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boodlesofdoodles · 11 months

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Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5

Mac is sitting impatiently as he watches Charlie scurrying about the kitchen, much more all over the place than usual; which is definitely saying something. He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a loud huff at the lack of attention he’s currently getting.

“So….” He starts, pausing for a minute and glancing up, hopeful that Charlie will stop what he’s doing and look up at Mac.

Charlie doesn’t.

“What’cha making today, Cat?” Hes even more intent on getting Charlie to pay attention to him. Charlie’s always enjoyed that nickname, and Mac uses it sparingly because when it’s a surprise it always seems to make Charlie happier to hear it.

Success this time around.

“Oh! Yeah-“ Charlie perks up, pausing what he’s doing for the first time in awhile. Actually looking at Mac for far too short a moment. Mac hates the way his heart flutters at it. “I’m making something called a, uh.” Charlie’s eyes quickly dart down to a oddly colorful piece of paper he had out on the counter in front of him, squinting at the name as his finger follows the letters, “a s-str. A stra,” he’s already getting a bit frustrated with himself.

It was already hard enough to learn the measurements. Now he has to sound out some of the words every time he tries reading a recipe. That’s why he’s so grateful to have Mac with him almost every time. Although.. when he’s alone, Charlie’s figured out a way to get his phone to narrate the text and read it out loud for him. He purposely hasn’t told Mac that, though, out of fear maybe Mac will stop hanging out with him while he bakes if he can ‘read’ the stuff on his own.

“A strundlay.” He finally stumbles out after a long pause of deliberation. Based on the look Mac is giving him, he probably read it completely wrong. “An apple strundlay,” he says more confidently. He knew the apple part was right… the other word? Not so much.

“Charlie, what in the hell is an apple strundlay?” Mac’s brows furrow as his face twists in confusion. He shakes his head lightly and reaches over the counter to pick up the paper Charlie was reading from. It’s a thin page ripped out of a magazine, some words rubbed off and smudged; he assumes Charlie must’ve ran his fingers over certain parts trying to reread them so many times. He probably went into some kind of office waiting room or lobby and just rifled through their magazines lying around until he saw a picture he liked. Mac scoffs slightly at the thought before his eyes roll over the word Charlie was just trying to say.

“Strudel?” This time he’s grinning and stifling a small chuckle, “you’re making an apple strudel?” He’s only met with a small, slightly embarrassed nod. “Sounds pretty good, Cat,” Mac beams fondly at the subconscious smile spreading on Charlie’s face at the repeated nickname, “I can’t wait to try it.” He slides the paper back over the counter and watches Char nervously fidget a little.

“I just, uh.” Charlie steps back a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s looking everywhere but at the expectant Mac, biting his lip lightly “I hope he likes it.”

Mac’s heart completely drops. Something about Charlie’s tone. The way he’s glancing around.

He? Who the hell is He? Why won’t Charlie look at me? Is he blushing? What is he talking about? There’s a He?

“Who the hell is He?” Mac blurts out before he can stop himself. He grunts and brings a hand to his temple, scrunching his eyes and praying he didn’t sound as angry as he felt when he said that.

“Dennis!” Charlie chuckles out.

Why won’t Charlie look at him anymore?

“Dennis? You’re making something for Dennis, Cat?” His voice isn’t nearly as playful as it was when he had said the name earlier. Why was Charlie so excited to make something for Dennis? “He doesn’t even know you bake. Just gonna show up with a homemade pastry and expect him not to be suspicious?” Mac doesn’t notice how much more he talks with his hands when he’s angry. Charlie always notices.

“Well, I’m obviously going to tell him.” Charlie’s face scrunches up and he shakes his head erratically, “I saw this and it looked so good I knew I had to make it for Dennis.” His eyes finally meet with Mac’s. They’re also no longer as playful.

‘Looked so good I knew I had to make it for Dennis,’ what’s that supposed to mean? He wants to make Dennis something even better than anything he’s ever made for me?

“You really think he’s not going to make fun of you for it?” Mac stands up from the stool he was lounging on. This is ridiculous. Dennis wouldn’t understand or appreciate Charlie’s baking. He wouldn’t understand Charlie like Mac does. He doesn’t understand him like Mac does. So then why the hell is Charlie so giddy about shoving some stupid pastry into his mouth. “This is a bad idea. You shouldn’t give Dennis anything.” His voice is loud, engulfing, he’s trying to intimidate Charlie into letting this stay a private thing only the two of them share. Please let this stay something only they share together. “He’s gonna hate it and you’re gonna go crying to me about it.” Mac bangs his fist on the counter as a last resort, “that’s such a stupid idea, Charlie.”

“Man, what the fuck is your problem? Why are you so angry at me right now?” Charlie is completely and utterly baffled. What did he do to piss Mac off so much? “Is it so awful I want to make something for him?” He can feel his face heating up, and his voice rising involuntarily as he gets angrier, “If he’s an asshole about it I’ll make sure you’re the first to know. That make you feel better, Mac?!” Charlie is shaking his head erratically again, as he starts scrambling around the kitchen. There’s loud banging as he works quickly to clean up after himself.

“Charlie what are you doing?” As mad as he is, and as hard as he wants to come off, his tone is desperate. He doesn’t get an answer as the sink turns on, watching Charlie angrily scrub off everything he was just using. “Charlie!” He yells over the running water.

“I’m going home, jackass.” He hurries over to the trash and just drops the whole bowl in, everything he had been working on since he got there. “I’m not making the god damn Strudel anymore.” Charlie’s scoffing as he turns off the faucet.

Before mac even has a chance to respond Charlie is already rushing past him and reaching for the front door handle. The apartment is dead silent after the door slams shut. Mac shakes his head and signs heavily. What the fuck just happened?

Absentmindedly he reaches over to the paper Charlie left behind. He just looked at the bolder lettering earlier and didn’t even notice all the ‘annotations’ and doodles Charlie left in the margins. There’s scribbled hearts scattered around, which makes Mac just feel sick. There’s a lot of stars just subconsciously doodled about. Charlie recreated some of the drawings Mac made of the measuring cups next to certain ingredients in the list.

Finally, his eyes land on one corner thats much busier than the rest. ‘4 Den and Mac’ is hastily written. Mac sinks back onto the stool, hunched over and sighing as he notices most of the hearts on the page surround the two names.

Den is written as neatly as Charlie could get it, while Mac is much sloppier. There’s a familiarity in the way Charlie writes the name, like he’s done it a million times. Den is still so foreign, but his hand knows Mac by heart.

Mac is left alone in the silent apartment, wondering how often Charlie writes his name.

#jealous mac my beloved #he’s so gay and in love with Charlie he can’t handle it #perceives Dennis as a threat LMAO #like he’s competing for Charlie’s love #charlie has two hands dumbass #also I didn’t make it clear before but Charlie mostly bakes in Mac and Dennis’ apartment #iasip #charmac #ramblings #I know nobody will read this #but I really like how it turned out #jealous Mac

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drawnbadly-blog · 3 months

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Hellish Bells

Chapter 5: Dinner Date 1

Charlie was smiling as she slid the beautiful ballgown dress over her head. She had been going over accessories in her head as she matched up gloves and a dainty set of slips. She wished her feet weren’t so flat! If they weren’t, she could wear ALL KINDS of beautiful pumps! Maybe she could commission some more decorative flats? Oh, but now she needed to find those cute hair bows that her mom had given her at her 500th birthda-

“Charlie!” The soft shout caught her attention. She pulled the ballgown all the way down her body to find Vaggie standing in front of her, naked. “I think you’re overthinking this, Char.”

“What do you mean?” Charlie had no clue on what Vaggie was talking about.

“Charlie, it’s dinner. I don’t think we need to be dressed to the nines for it.”

“No, it’s not just a dinner.” Charlie skipped over to her dresser where she’d put the invite and pointed to the specific wording. “It’s a dinner date .”

“Whatever.” Vaggie stretched as she turned and rummaged through her panty drawer. “Don’t expect me to dress up that much.”

“But…” Charlie let loose her most dramatic pout. “But Vaaaaaggie~”

“No.” Charlie could see the blush on Vaggie’s face even as she held firm. Before Charlie could keep applying pressure, Vaggie whipped out a pair of panties and bra. A matching pair.

Charlie gave Vaggie a sly smile. “No fancy dressing, huh?”

Vaggie did a double-take at the undergarments she selected. Her face entirely red now, Vaggie said, flustered, “Pure coincidence.”

“Aw. So you aren’t dressing up for me?” Charlie felt really clever with that turnaround.

“Wha-I, I mean, I could…”

“Great!” Charlie took off the ballgown, leaving her in her frilly underwear and soft, lacy bra. She then rushed over to Vaggie’s closet. “Now, I think wearing that gown you wore for our third anniversary would work best.”

“Charlie, I said we didn’t have to dress nice for Alastor,” Vaggie insisted.

“You don’t have to dress nice for Alastor,” Charlie confirmed. She asked, “What about me? Would you dress nice for me?”

Vaggie looked completely taken off-guard. The redness never leaving her face, she marched over to Charlie and wrestled the gown from her. She said, “Yeah, I’d do it for you.” Vaggie sighed and grumbled, “You’d better be willing to sit on my face later.”

Charlie grabbed Vaggie in a tight hug. “Of course!”

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In the end, they came to a compromise. Charlie did not wear her ballgown. No, instead Vaggie had gotten her to settle for one of their regular going-out clothes: a sleek deep blue maxi dress with a cute fascinator hat and her favorite slips, hair loose under the hat. Vaggie had convinced her not to wear gloves. Charlie refused to give up a hat for the occasion.

Vaggie, in turn, had dressed up from the outfit she normally wore. As she didn’t actually have many ‘nice’ clothes, her choices were more limited. Which is how she ended up in the red and black plaid sundress with the matching red bow with black wedge shoes that they reserved for picnics. Charlie couldn’t help but to giggle at the matching colors, to which Vaggie simply sighed and said, “Let’s get this over with.”

Now they were standing in front of the door up to Alastor’s tower. The whole tower was an entirely self-contained apartment that he had fashioned as he saw fit. Why he always wanted the forest connected to his main room no one really understood. Maybe she could ask him about it?

“Are we…supposed to knock?” Vaggie asked hesitantly. “When did he want us here?”

Charlie pulled out the invite card again. “Well, it doesn’t have a time. So, I guess?”

Apparently Vaggie was feeling more impatient as she reached out and knocked. Or, at least, she tried to. Just as her knuckle was touching the door, it opened.

“Ah! There you two are! I was starting to wonder if I should have specified a time!” Alastor waved them in, blocked from view by the door. Vaggie kept herself between Alastor and Charlie as they entered. They were moving to go up the stairs in front of them to the main living area but found them stopped by Alastor suddenly appearing in front of them. “We will not be going up there tonight, dear ladies!” He directed them to a doorway that had been blocked from view by him and the door. “Please, come this way!”

Charlie followed his shadow, Vaggie dodging around her to, again, use herself as a buffer between the other two. They walked through a little kitchenette area that was squeaky clean, almost sterile-looking, even as it smelled divine, out into a small dining area.

This room was different. Not what Charlie was expecting. It was very…human. Homey.

Green and yellow patterned wallpaper covered all the walls, crown molding and various craftsman designs on the walls and ceiling. There was a simple wooden table surrounded by four simple chairs. A china cabinet was nestled next to the doorway where some delicate-looking plates and cups sat on display. A grandfather clock ticked away against the other wall. Next to the clock was a small table with a record player and a radio that was playing soft jazz tunes.

“Wow. This is actually pretty cool,” Vaggie said, a compliment a good way to start out the evening in Charlie’s opinion.

“Why thank you!” Alastor stayed in the kitchen. “Pardon me as I fetch our dinner. I left it in the oven to keep warm and the icebox to keep cool. Please, feel free to sit down. No need to wait for me. I amthe host after all!”

Vaggie gave Charlie a Look. Silently they made a bet as they both sat down, Vaggie’s back turned to the kitchen while Charlie sat to her left. There was no need for words; it was a standard bet between them when they went out together.

“Ah ha!” Alastor’s tentacles reached out of the kitchen, reaching around Vaggie and setting various dishes on the table. “I hope you two have big stomachs!”

The tentacles withdrew to reveal a veritable smorgasbord of food: a cake that she was pretty sure was pineapple but it was upside-down; a plate of potatoes, egg yolk, and what looked like butter with some pepper dashed on top styled in a swirling baked shape; two roasts of some kind of bird with bits of cranberry and oranges scattered on the platter; and a creamy soup with what looked like pomegranates and chives mixed in.

“Wow! Alastor, this looks GREAT!” Charlie turned from the table to the kitchen. “Did you bake all of this yourself?”

“Of course!” Alastor entered the dining room and said, “These are some of my favorite foods from when I was alive. I don’t have much opportunity to pull out the oven mitts and get to work! Thank you two lovely ladies for giving me an excuse.”

Charlie’s attention was caught by his outfit. It, again, was strangely human. Not the same flashy suit that he normally wore. This was more comfortable yet high-class. A simple black and white pinstriped suit which matched perfectly with his eyepiece. He had a different cane, this one with a silver topper, and now she noticed in the corner a little umbrella stand with various canes in it, including his favored radio cane. As she was looking him over, he looked the two of them over.

“I was hoping you would take this invitation seriously,” Alastor said. “I don’t misuse words, and I’m glad you caught my wording.”

“Oh, yeah, we definitely…caught that,” Vaggie stuttered insincerely. Charlie would have to tease her about it later. It felt good to have been proven correct!

“So then…” Alastor skirted around Vaggie and sat in the seat next to Charlie.

“Dang it!” Charlie fussed. Looked like she was wearing that plug tonight.

“Is there something wrong, my dear?” Alastor asked, looking between the victorious Vaggie and the disappointed Charlie.

“What? Wrong? Me? Oh no, no, nothing’s wrong,” Charlie covered, taking unusual interest in the potato things. “This is potato, right?”

Alastor let her switch the topic. “Sharp eye! Yes, it is. Duchess potatoes! Mimsy could never get enough of them at our dinner parties.”

Alastor began explaining each dish as they served and ate them: its background, ingredients, and where he used to eat it when he was alive. Vaggie, forgetting her distrust, began discussing the different ways to bake. She had been the one to bake for the hotel before Niffty came after all. Vaggie hadn’t had any opportunity to talk shop with anyone which is why Charlie was SO HAPPY that her and Alastor were bonding.

Apparently she made it too obvious as it caught their attention. They both were looking at her, confused.

“Charlie?” they both said at the same time. They exchanged glances; Alastor gave Vaggie a toothy grin, to which Vaggie blew out a suddenly frustrated breath and looked away.

Alastor laughed. “My goodness, we let the conversation get away from us! Poor Charlie must feel rather left out.”

“I was really enjoying watching you two talk!” Charlie said cheerily. “Is there anything else you two want to talk about? That won’t lead to an argument? Hmmmmm?”

Vaggie’s eye narrowed at Alastor. “No.”

“And that’s my cue to change the topic!” Charlie said before Vaggie could elaborate. Taking one last nibble of what was duck, she asked, “So, Alastor, why didja wanna have this dinner?”

Alastor blinked, then laughed. “Oh Charlie, don’t you understand?” He said like it was obvious, “We’re on a date!”

Oh. Yeah, she’d pointed that out earlier to Vaggie. Right. That was a stupid question.

Vaggie snorted. “Yes, a ‘date’.”

“Don’t be like that Vaggie!” Charlie elbowed Vaggie when she tried to turn her back to Alastor. “You were having fun until you thought about it.”

“Yeah, when I thought about it! Charlie! It’s Alastor . It’s all an act!”

“Being distrustful of the host is very unbecoming of you, Vagatha,” Alastor tsked.

“Whoever the HELL started that thing with my name being Vagatha is going to die SEVERAL more times,” Vaggie growled.

“Oh my! How violent!” Alastor leaned towards Vaggie, his form shifting subtly to be more monstrous. “ Would you like some help? ”

Vaggie frowned, then admitted, “I might actually take you up on that.”

Well, at least they weren’t sniping at each other like normal.

Hoping to distract from the violence, Charlie asked, “What do we do now?”

“Hm? Do you mean after-dinner entertainment?” Alastor asked in turn.

“I mean, yeah,” Vaggie decided to add in. “It was a ‘date’, right?”

“ Dinner date,” Alastor emphasized.

“You can’t pull that shit on us. You’re making us stick with you, so you’re stuck with us. We don’t disappear after we eat. So, what are we doing?” Vaggie leaned back, staring him down and daring him to deny them.

Charlie was amazed to find that Alastor was caught off-guard. His eyes were wide, looking around in a mild panic, his nails digging into the table at the unfamiliar feeling. Clearly he really did think he could shove them out the door.

Charlie decided to take some playful pity on him. “What did you used to do when you and Mimsy went out to your parties?”

Alastor’s gaze snapped to her, and she felt the momentary panic immediately vanish as his smile reassumed itself on his face. “Ah, yes! I know just the thing!” He got up. “Please stand to the side as I clear the room.”

Not needing to be asked twice, the two women got up and stood back against the wall. Alastor nodded, clapped-

And everything in the room vanished into shadows.

“I didn’t know you could do that! Take things into the shadows like that!” Charlie marveled. “Where did it all go?”

“I merely moved it upstairs,” Alastor said. “We needed the room. And you did, indeed, know. Remember when you came to me when you accepted my proposal?”

“ Tricked into it,” Vaggie muttered under her breath.

“Right! I forgot!” Charlie took a step into the open room. “What are we doing?”

Alastor’s smile turned genuine as he tapped the top of his radio with his hand. A spark raced through it, suddenly turning the music to a fast, old-timey tune. It was VERY catchy and made Charlie want to dance. Her ‘want’ solidified into an ‘actually happening’ when Alastor took her hand and began dancing with her. It was similar to the song and dance that she vaguely remembered from when he first entered their lives.

Vaggie stood, unimpressed. “Yeah, that’s nice for you guys and all, but I-”

“Feeling left out? Very well then!” He let go of Charlie momentarily, one hand touching the radio and the other reaching out and grabbing Vaggie’s arm. As she squawked in protest and the music changed to a more frantic tone, he exclaimed, “Time to switch to a more festive dance!”

Charlie was barely keeping up. She was sure Vaggie wasn’t thinking anymore either; Charlie could see her dancing out of the corner of her eye and there were no more complaints. She looked up at Alastor to find a very pleasant sight.

The genuine smile was shining more brightly than ever, his eyes were closed in joy, and he was humming the tune as they all danced together to it. It made Charlie feel something inside, seeing it. And she wasn’t sure what it was.

#charlie x vaggie x alastor #charlie has two hands #chaggistor #romance #eventually anyway #bananarama is a word #hazbin hotel #demiromantic alastor #asexual demiromantic Alastor #asexual alastor

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