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azullumi · 13 days

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“withering desires of a cruel man with broken confessions” ; aventurine

to you : 🧀 nonnie !! i hope you had a wonderful birthday and i’m sorry for taking a long time to finish this but hey, it’s done now (finally). belated happy birthday and i wish you all the best <33

premise — his belief that he doesn’t deserve the good things is rooted deeply underneath the dirt where he buries his corpse, and he doesn’t deserve you; this is an ode to clementia and he wishes that his song reaches you.

tags — w/ gender-neutral reader, fluff to angst, friends to friends that knows they like each other, orange as a metaphor for love, angry and forced love confessions, aven my self-sabotage and mixed signals king, 1.5k ; one-shot

note — made while listening to phoebe bridgers, faye webster, adrianne lenker, and ichiko aoba. this was supposed to be a short drabble about peeling oranges and sharing with them what happened

They say clementines are a symbol for mercy—gentle, soft, and sweet, like an echo of the sun.

There’s the fresh smell of citrus in the air as he delicately pulls its skin to reveal its form, a warm burst of sunset trapped within its fragile walls, and his nails will be tainted by the color of its penance and he’ll forget what it feels like to only have hatred in his heart. Maybe that’s how forgiveness tastes; salvation will fill his blood as he sheds tears that carry his sins (they were never his).

“I don’t know how you can do that flawlessly.” You say, your voice drenched in wonder and amazement as you watch the movement of his fingers, adeptly peeling the fruit. The sections come apart neatly and perfectly in his hands.

He smiles, “It’s easy.”

“It’s not.” You insist, reminding him of the horror of the state the orange has become when you tried to share it with him. “Did you see the holes I tore through it? I was left with nothing but the mere coat because the juice sprayed in all directions.”

The sound of laughter forms in his throat and escapes, “It’s because it was small and the skin is hard. Come on.” He holds a small piece near your face and you part your lips open enough for him to feed you; a warm feeling resides in your cheeks as you chew. There’s a burst of sweetness, with hints of sourness that lingered in its nature in your mouth—it reminds you of the night when he held your form and gently guided you to the melody of the song.

“Is it sweet?” He asks, his head tilted a little to the side as he bores his gaze at you. There are lingering touches, whispered honey-coated words, affectionate gestures, and eyes painted of different vivid hues and contrasting pristine tones that never seem to hold the light, only reflecting your form within. You hum, nodding your head as you answer, “You should teach me how to peel them, you know. I don’t want to be calling you everytime or having to rely on you too much.”

(Truthfully, and hopefully so, may you never learn so he’ll get to be this close to you always.)

He smiles, sunshine peeking through his expression, “I wouldn’t mind.” He wouldn’t mind if it were just a small matter or nothing at all, you can keep on calling for him, ask for his assistance or simply just his presence—he’ll come running to you. He whispers, “Use me as you wish,” and his words shatter as it falls to the ground. (See him as a tool that has never known its purpose. See him as worthless but mere dust that covers your window sills. See him as nothing but a fool who never understood the lines in his heart.)

You say, “You know you’re not just as little as that to me.”

“Then what am I to you?” The comfort of silence settles in the gaps of his fingers and he finds himself seeking, waiting, with bated breath. His gaze seems to still at your eyes before falling to your lips, lingering for a few moments before meeting your eyes once more, and your hands tremble; you know the answer, you know what to say, you know, you know, you know, you know—and, at once, there’s the warm feeling of his lips on yours as you pull him in, as he pulls you in.

It’s gentle, soft in all of its edges and cracks. He holds your face in his hands and you intertwine yours in his locks, and you pull at his hair, eliciting a hum from him. It’s a burst of warmth, the taste of something sweet still left in your tongue as he kisses you. It’s short yet it will be engraved and buried in the depths of your mind for eternity.

“I like you.” You whisper against his lips as you part, eyes heavy on each other yet his gaze wavers and his breath shudders.

“I…” Why else would he continuously seek your embrace? Why else would he prefer to be alone with you even if it’s just silence between you and him (your presence alone brings him comfort)? Why else would he take such time to understand your form and cradle your being as if you were born from glass? He didn’t have your hands carve the shape of his thoughts into the form of your being just so he wouldn’t capture the feeling of your touch on his skin and how he craves, yearns for it like a starved man—and yet, he’ll hold his head down in humiliation as he looks for the words on the ground. He’s worthless, useless, nothing like his ‘luck’ that seems to curse everyone around him, and you’re everything he’s not. “I’m sorry.”

His hands fall from your cheeks and he stands up, saying, “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

The chair screeches beneath him; his thoughts remain silent yet deafening, your voice fading into white noise as you call for him. He has to leave—each of his footsteps are heavy, echoing back to him as if a semblance to contempt and mockery that trails his wake.

Fear and shame forms at the bottom of his lungs. What even is he afraid of? Is it the lack of experience? The fear of abandonment? But humans are not strangers to those thoughts, people are bound to leave and Aventurine wasn’t unfamiliar with that, so how could he be afraid of something that has become a friend to him? Maybe it’s when he’s torn apart from flesh to bones and they’ll see there’s nothing in him—he was born out of barren wastelands and dust, his form has been long since buried under the golden sands. Maybe it's when he’s shown everything to them and they seek for something that he doesn’t have; the disappointment that lies in their expression will forever haunt him. Was it fear or was it worry that nobody could ever love him for what he truly is? Behind the expensive clothes he wears, the shining and heavy jewelry on his wrist, the suffocating rings on his hand, maybe they prefer his skin tainted with letters instead of wounds that brands him as human.

“—Rine.” A hand grasps at his wrist, preventing him from leaving. He stills in his position, feet glued to the floor and his back turned against you. Your voice breaks, “Stay, please.”

He’s stuck, sutured to the ground, hesitation sewing his mouth shut. You urge him to turn around, your fingers tugging at him, so he could face you, so you could see him—he’s tattered, torn and conflicted over something you’ll never know. The unfriendly air of the cold night wraps around his figure, but your hand eases warmth and comfort in his weary bones.

“Why did you kiss me?” You seek for something in the gaps of his expression, looking for a falter in the lines of his features to know the thoughts that he hides beneath all the charades and facades.

“…It was a mistake.”

You answer, frustration slowly seeping into your tone, “You know damn well it’s not.” He knows completely well it’s not and it will never be. And you don’t cry nor plead, you beg with sore, trembling palms for an answer to soothe the disturbance of the waves that will come to swallow you, drowning you in the murky waters of your mind. “You don’t get to hold my hands and cradle me in yours and tell me it’s nothing. You don’t get to look at me in a way that is reminiscent of lovers and tell me it doesn’t mean anything. You don’t get to kiss me and say that it’s a mistake. You’re a cruel man, Aventurine, and you’re unfair for telling me that it was all nothing but a mistake when you haunt my dreams.”

“…I’m sorry.” He closes his eyes for a moment, darkness swallowing his vision yet his mind conjures an image of you in it, berating him. The broken pieces of your words are left scattered on the bottom of yours and his feet.

You ask, voice low, “Do you like me?”

“Why—“

“It’s a yes or no question, ‘Rine. Do you like me or do you not?”

“I love you.” His voice is raised and cracks start to form on the surface of his expression, “and it’s scaring me.” Forgive me. The clock continues to tick despite the world seemingly coming to a still at his words.

The air is suffocating and the silence sits on your shoulders before he says, whispering in a broken tone, “I’m leaving.”

And this time, you don’t stop him. His steps are rushed against the flooring, the sound of the door closing echoes throughout the corners of your mind. The walls of your home stand tall over you, his confession written and tearing through all over your wallpaper, screaming at you; you’re left crumbling on the floor. The sweet scent of citrus lingers in the air, the mess the two of you made still on the counter tops, and you wished you told him you love him too.

tagging @toorurs, the loveliest and sweetest of all. i hope you know that you're cherished and loved by me, and i'm so glad to have you and the sun that touches your skin must be too <33 always be reminded that you're beautiful and i appreciate everything that you do and say (you always make me laugh even when it's just the smallest and useless of things like wow you must have a special talent in making someone smile) !! thank you for always being there for me too and always cheering me up, and also making my day because everything for me nowadays is becoming unbearable and you're the only one that keeps me sane (fk exams and projects and research im going to cry)

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gemsofgreece · 3 months

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8 rare local dishes from the Greek islands

Post inspired by this Greek article. I picked half of the dishes in order to create an island and local exclusive list, then translated and summarized the info. The pictures have links and in most of the respective websites you can find the recipes in Greek.

Makarunes with Sitaka, Kasos island

Makarunes is thick penne-like handmade pasta which is served with caramelised onions and the special Sitaka cheese of Kasos island. Sitaka is so rare, it is sometimes hard to find even in Athens but some restaurants do have this dish in their menu.

Atherinópita (Smelt pie), Syros island

It is not truly a pie, but it is a dish produced from frying various small fish like sand smelts and bogues as well as onions all close together until they create a crust holding them together.

Photography: Χριστίνα Γεωργιάδου

Stuffed Hachles, Lesvos island

These are small baskets made of sun- and air-dried wheat kneaded with sour tarhana. They are usually stuffed with cheese, fresh tomato, herbs and spices but the filling is up to anyone's appetite really.

Sweet sefuklotí pie, Naxos and Tinos islands

Sefukloti or fesklopita is a rare pie that is actually a dessert, which is surprising (in Greek cuisine) because it looks exactly like a spinach pie. Sefukloti is a traditional recipe of these islands, particularly of the Catholics celebrating Christmas Eve (The Cyclades islands have the largest presence of Catholic Christians in Greece.) The pie is made of swiss chard, rice, sugar, molasses, walnuts, raisins, cinnamon and clove. The crust is kneaded with orange juice. Some also add onions and leeks, which also do not prevent this pie from working perfectly as a dessert. Before the serving, sefukloti is dressed with sesame seeds and honey.

Anthógalo with eggs, Réthymnon, Crete island

Anthogalo or Staka is produced exclusively in Crete island. It is made of the salted fats of sheep milk. In this recipe, eggs are fried with anthogalo which works here like butter. The eggs are buttered by the anthogalo, while parts of it curdle and form cheese pieces during the frying.

Aliaða & Vakalaópita, Cephalonia island

Aliaða is the local version of the Greek garlic dip "skorðaliá". Aliada is made of garlic, potatoes and the juices of boiled cod or octopus. The latter turns the dip a burgundy colour. Besides the famous fried cod that is enjoyed everywhere in Greece, in Cephalonia cod is also used to make "Vakalaópita”, a cod fish pie, in which the crust and the filling are kneaded with wine and vinegar.

Rhodian pungiá, Rhodes island

These are wild greens pies baked in special local traditional pans. The wild greens are not boiled before they are added to the pie but they are salt dried. The juice that is produced by this process is mixed with olive oil and is used as a dressing for the pie when it's served.

Anthos, Andros island

Anthos means flower. In Andros island it is also the name of the local spoon sweet, made of lemon flowers as well as the flowers of other citrus plants. It is fragrant, chewy and is considered an aristocratic dessert with limited production. It is a pretty hard recipe, because the flowers must be picked at the right time of the season and the cooking must be very careful so that the sweet won't get bitter and dark.

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pastel-pillows · 4 months

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Finally free of Hawkins Billy makes his way back to California after years away where he makes a special stop at his favorite diner.

Word count: 8925

No warnings!

“One all American breakfast, extra bacon, extra crispy, with a black coffee, extra hot. Banana nut French toast with a side of sausage and orange juice and an Ella’s original with water, coming right up.”

The sun had just barely made its home in the sky for the day yet the diner was already bustling, silverware on ceramic plates and chatter mixing into an ambient background noise that mingled perfectly with the wafting scent of brewing coffee and frying foods. Large windows let in unfiltered light to bathe the small diner in a natural glow and despite the early hour, most everyone seemed to genuinely be enjoying the welcoming atmosphere the building was bringing in, content, and some admittedly sleepy, faces all at peace.

“Thanks Hun, you’re the best.” A wrinkled hand held out the menus for you to grab, her other one patting the top of your hand in a silent ‘nice to see you gesture’ as you grab them.

“It shouldn’t be too long of a wait, most of the morning rush has been seated and served.” Tucking the menus underneath one arm you turn your attention to the toddler seated next to the older woman to ruffle his hair. “Would you like some crayons, little man?” Flipping the paper place mat in front of him over you pointed to the drawings and little mazes printed on it, all things he’d seen many times before but was nonetheless excited each and every time you showed him them.

“Here you go sweetheart.” The bell over the door chimed while you were grabbing the cup with worn down and, unfortunately, mostly broken crayons, so you call out over your shoulder that you’d be with whoever had just walked in, in just a minute. “Who’s the lucky person you’re coloring for this time?”

Having known the Hannigan’s from the summers you’d spent with your grandmother, you’d become quite familiar with their kids and in turn their grandkids and had several juice-stained pieces from Jackson pinned to the fridge in the kitchen of the restaurant. You didn’t get to hear his answer, the door chiming once more covering up the gentle reply from the timid kid so you just nod to pretend that you’d heard what he said and then promised to be back soon with their food and to check on his masterpiece.

By the time you made it back to the podium up front, no one was there to be found. A quick scan told you that whoever had come in had either gone to the counter to pick up an order or had gotten too impatient and simply left.

“He already left, sweetheart. Grabbed some pastries and booked it.” Helen reading your searching face gestures to the small glass display to illustrate her point. “Must’ve been on the road and in a hurry, I didn’t recognize his face, real quiet kid too, he didn't say much.”

“Thanks for taking him, I got caught up talking to Jackson about his art.”

“If only I was thirty years younger, he was a cute little thing.” Helen waves away your thanks in favor of cooing over the mystery man with the sweet tooth and how she would’ve eaten him up back in her day.

“Your mailman is going to be heartbroken.” You shoot a quick glance over the counter to see Sabino still cooking and take the chance to lean over the counter and gossip about Helen’s love life. “ The sailor, too.”

“Honey, there is plenty of me to go around, even at my age a good time is a good time. You should really be getting out there too, we can manage a shift or two without you, you know? The place isn’t going to crumble if it’s just us and you need to have fun while you’re young.” In between stories of her rendezvous Helen loved to urge you to follow in her footsteps and take the good that was offered, or at the very least spend time anywhere that wouldn’t leave you smelling of burnt coffee and fried foods. Her own kids had grown and left some time ago and she’d taken to you with an almost maternal, maybe more older sister role and was no stranger to worrying over you.

A pair of plates scraping as they slid across the tiled ledge drags your sight from Helen’s scrutinizing, albeit well-meaning gaze to a plate of French toast stacked sky high with whip cream, chopped nuts, bananas and powdered sugar and a much more modest one of eggs, hash browns and bacon. “Better get that, Jackson hates when the whip cream melts before he can eat it.”

It wasn’t that you weren’t interested in going out; California was thriving –the place to be with seemingly new things coming out every day, but you needed to save. A car wasn’t going to buy itself and waking up at four every morning to catch the bus to make it to the diner on time wasn’t something you wanted to do forever and as much as you like rooming with Lisa, a place of your own was eventually the goal.

Your shift passes slowly after that, thoughts of what girls your age were doing occupying your mind, daydreams of nights out and shopping trips mixing with the fried scent of reuben sandwiches and chicken tenders as the morning crowd bled into the afternoon lunch rush.

Helen’s words left you longing for both the things you were missing out on and the parties you’d gone to in high school. You hadn't realized just how much you’d missed having simple mindless fun until today. The memories of his laughter echoed in the back of your head through your afternoon chores and well into the evening, your dreams were water colored that night, pretty but distant and just out of reach.

“Morning Hun.” Sabino, the only person to get there earlier than you, sat at an empty table with a mixing bowl full of fruit loops in front of him and a steaming cup of coffee which he slides to empty space on the other side for you to enjoy.

Sliding into the seat, you lay your head down on the table and wrap your palms around the warm ceramic to both enjoy the last dregs of sleepiness and allow yourself to fully let the approaching work day settle in in the peace of the morning. After a good ten minutes had passed, the bell on the front door chimes once, then twice– and finally a third time to let you know Helen, Marie and Dennis had made their way in and that it was time to chug your now lukewarm coffee and start getting things ready.

The morning prep goes fairly painlessly and as the sun creeps up people began to trickle in, all of them just as heavily lidded and reluctant to leave the cozy promise of beds and sleep that came with nightfall as you had been, but perking up at the smell of coffee and grilling bacon that saturated the air .

“Welcome to Cecil’s, will you be dining with us or ordering to go?” It was barely fifteen minutes past the hour when the bell chimes signaling another customer had come ambling in. Marie was hosting today and you can just barely hear her greeting the patron with an enthusiasm that could only come from someone who was as new to the workforce as she was, fresh faced and eager with everything ahead of her.

There was a longer than usual pause and you heard Marie speak again. “Sir?” Just a few more seconds pass and a deeper voice responds with three words that had you craning your head to peek around the corner where you’d been setting out the pastries.

“Coffee, to go.”

Marie repeats his order to confirm. “One black coffee to go. Can I get you anything else this morning? They’re just putting the pastries out, we make them ourselves.”

“Just the coffee, thanks.”

“Yes sir.” Knowing you should probably brush it off as someone who just sounds familiar, you find yourself quickly stacking the last of the muffins and closing the display to finish before Marie is done pouring the coffee to get a glimpse of the man up front.

Rounding the corner you make it in time to see Marie putting the pot of coffee back, she’d given him decaf on accident, with no one else up front. “Marie?”

“Yeah, hun?”

“Can you cover for me real quick? I need to check on something.”

“Sure thing, honey.”

He was still there, sitting with one hand resting outside the window of his car holding a cigarette that he wasn’t smoking, head tilted back and eyes locked firmly on the roof of his car, the coffee he’d just bought was placed on his dash with the lid popped off and several sugar and creamer containers were open and emptied alongside it.

To everyone, including yourself, he looked to be just another man who was taking a moment to collect himself before the start of another day. To those who paid just a little more attention he looked nervous, the hand holding the dwindling cigarette shaking slightly at the sound of your approaching footsteps.

“Billy?” He could hear the sun in your voice, feel the warmth.

“Hey Princess.” He offered an easy toothy grin as if him stopping by to say a quick hello was a common occurrence.

“I knew I recognized that voice. I didn’t know you were back in town, are you visiting family?”

“I’m just here for a few days on my way through town, then I'm heading out.” Billy flicks the butt of his cigarette to ash it, the cherry burning upwards on a smoke he’s only taken one drag from.

“That’s a shame, it’d be nice having you back around. You always had a way of shaking things up.” The chime of the bell over the door alerts you to Marie before the call of your name does. “Stop in for breakfast before you go, yeah? I’m on for the next three days, all opening shifts. I’ll have our chef Sabino make you his famous peanut butter banana nut waffles.”

You pat the hood of his car a few times and bid him goodbye over your shoulder while making your way back into the well-loved diner for the rest of your shift, a skip only your coworkers would notice had been added to your step.

After two weeks had gone by, you were sure that Billy had simply come and gone, sparing a quick stop to say hi to a highschool friend before disappearing to wherever his final destination would be. The coast was your guess, somewhere quiet, but not isolated where he’d always be close to the water. He’d always loved surfing on warm days where he could relax while digging his toes into the sand and watching the waves lap at the shore on the cooler ones.

It was a short meeting but it left a lasting impression on you, memories flitting through your mind while you worked for the rest of the day.

The trailers were just coming to an end when you’d finally made your way into the theater, the opening scenes filling the screen while you balanced your popcorn, soda and candy in one hand and your purse in the other, the narrow aisles seeming smaller with every seat already full for the debut showing of Terminator 2. Even in the dim lights, it was obvious tonight was going to be a sold out show.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Every empty seat you managed to find was filled by a bag or stray sweater to signal it was being saved for a friend or already taken by someone who were making a quick dash to the concessions for a refill on popcorn and coke, having already downed theirs during the ads for upcoming movies and new products.

“I’m sorry my friend is sitting here, she just went to the bathroom.” Linda Hamilton’s voice booms on the speakers just as the girl was talking, her words hushed and nearly lost by the on screen presence, but the apologetic expression was more than enough to let you know exactly what she had said.

A shout of your name brings your attention to a row towards the back where you were surprised to see Billy waving you over, his tenor deep enough it cut through the boom of the music sequence to show you that he was pointing to where there was an empty seat next to him.

You had to squeeze past more than a few people to reach him, awkwardly shuffling sideways while being sure not to step on anyone’s toes as you made your way down the aisle to where he sat next to the seemingly only open seat left in the theater. “You always were there in my time of need, I might just start to think you’re my hero.”

“You’re here on your own?”

“Sara was supposed to get here earlier to save seats but she called last minute to cancel.” You had a sneaking suspicion that her sudden change in plans had something to do with the new coworker she’d met last month named Michael, his name had been popping up in more and more of your conversations and you knew it was only a matter of time before her work crush turned into something more. Juggling your stuff, you managed to get your sprite into the drink holder and tuck your bag underneath the seat before collapsing into it with a relieved sigh. As used to being around strangers and making pleasantries as you were from work, it was nice to settle beside someone you knew on your day off.

The movie was ok and Billy was sure he would have liked it had he gotten more of the story but his attention was divided between you and the big screen, his eyes having a hard time choosing between the fast paced action scenes up ahead and your delighted face as you crunched away on your treat. In that hour and a half, he learned a few things: you like to talk during movies, soft enough that only he could hear your whispered commentary and jokes, you alternated between salty and sweet, for every few handfuls of popcorn you would toss a mouthful of reese's pieces into your mouth for balance, and no matter how many times he declined your offer of snacks you’d always offer again a few minutes later, never content until he was eating too.

“Did you see the Hospital escape?” By time the movie had ended you’d made your way through all of your Reese’s pieces and soda but still had about half of your popcorn left, you were clutching it to you and still snacking on it as you recited the film you’d just seen back to him in a dramatic play by play. “I never saw the first one, but Sara had insisted this was going to be the ‘it’ movie of the summer. You saw the first one, right? How did this one hold up compared to it?”

Like it was a habit you’d been doing forever you leaned against him, your head resting on his shoulder as you walk through the lobby and towards the parking lot, the tub of popcorn being shoved into his view from time to time in your never ending bid to feed whoever was around you. He tensed at the contact initially, but relaxed as you walked in stride with him, the warmth of your head against his bicep bleeding through the denim of his coat. The arm that wasn’t clutching the butter stained container to your chest looped its way around the arm you were leaning against to offer you an easier time keeping pace with him.

Outside the sun had reached the final stages of setting, the darkness crowding the streaks of crimson and orange and snuffing out the last of today to get ready for the morning to come. It was still warm, made bearable by the breeze that drifted in from the west. You walked absentmindedly with Billy to his car, side by side like no time had ever passed and waited until he was by the driver's door to hand him the rest of your salty snack before wishing him a good night.

“Hey, wait, you have a ride?” He rested against the car with one arm, the other digging into the pocket of his jacket to grab his cigarettes and lighter.

“I walked here, Sara was supposed to meet me at my apartment and we were going to head here together since my place is just around the block.” Your thumb pointed behind you to show the direction you'd be heading and to give him some reassurance that you didn't have far to go to make it home.

Billy opened his mouth to say something. He'd wanted to insist on a ride, tell you to be safe, ask if you were sure; instead he pursed his lips together and brought the lighter to the end of his cigarette and just nodded.

“I’m glad I was able to see you one more time before you left.” He wondered if you could feel the way his body froze when you wrapped your arms around his frame to give him a quick hug, thanking him for watching the movie with you, or the way it relaxed as you did that same little squeeze right before you let go to say goodbye, just as you’d done since you were kids. He thinks you did when you turned back around for another hug, a fast one, clinging to him for the briefest second almost like you were making up for the goodbye you never got to have back then.

If he thought back far enough, he could remember what it was like before, before his mom had left, before Hawkins, before the mind flayer.

You’d been together from the start from kindergarten with Mrs.Mayo, where he’d been paired with you as your walking buddy. Your school in California had been a lot different from the one in Hawkins– rows of buildings connected like a strip mall with no hallways. The school had been fenced in of course, but they had you pair up for safety anyway and when it came time to take you to the cafeteria or the play area they’d line you up and have you walk side by side.

Everyday, multiple times a day he’d find himself next to you, marching in rows to get lunch or visit the library, but he never minded, you were nice, you liked to talk and you always shared your animal crackers on the walk back from the elementary rooms to the preschool and kindergarten area.

It didn't take long for his teacher-assigned partner to become his best friend.

He’d spend recess walking on the wooden beams that lined the wood chipped area of the playground, balancing on the thin strips and pretending you were on a pirate ship and walking the plank. Billy remembered taking turns with Selena, you and Andrew on the swings, competing to see who could get the highest before jumping off and bragging that he’d be able to swing high enough that he could loop around the metal bar. He’d hog one of the swings for the entire play time trying to soar over the top but had never managed to.

Even in class you’d been together, your desks arranged into pods of four that made up the ‘blue group’ were pushed flush together, blue construction paper taped to the forward facing side with your names written in your own messy scrawls. No matter how far back he’d thought, there was never a moment you weren’t a part of, something he’d only realized after replaying your night at the movies together.

It was an easy friendship to have.

It became a hard friendship to maintain.

You weren’t oblivious, he knew you weren’t, you’d seen the change. You heard the way playground roughhousing had evolved into high school rumors of vandalism, hookups and bullying, but Billy was still Billy, at least to you and when the lunch bell rang, he'd wait around your classroom and walk side by side with you to his car where you’d pile in with a mixture of his friends and whatever girl he was with that week.

“Let’s get Jack in the Box, those tacos have been calling my name since the second period.” Sid had one arm looped around your shoulder and one around the driver's seat where he was patting Billy’s chest to emphasize his need for the fast food tacos. “I’m sure our girl here could go for some onion rings.” He jostled your shoulder knowing if anyone could sway the vote for today’s lunch excursion that it’d be you.

“Curly fries do sound really good.” His eyes were on you, visible through the rear view mirror.

“Can we get McDonald’s, Billy? I’d die for a milkshake right now.” The front seat was occupied by Amanda who was using the visor’s mirror to swipe on some lip gloss.

With one hand on the wheel and the other on Amanda’s thigh, Billy backed out of his parking spot, the rubber of his wheels leaving black marks on the pavement as he peeled out “A milkshake sounds good to me.”

“Come on man, even she wanted Jack in the box.” Defeated Sid slumped into his seat, a pout on his face at the lost opportunity to fix his midday cravings.

“An apple pie sounds good, too.” Your hand found Sid’s arm to give it a squeeze.

“I didn’t want an apple pie.” Through the mirror you could still feel his gaze, heavy, intense, and entirely focused on you as the car sped down the road towards town.

At the time it’d seemed like a good idea, in his mind at least, to push you away. It’d be easier for you both if you were the one who chose to walk away, he’d had plenty of experience with that and he knew if that was how things ended, he would at least be ok.

You’d known he was going to move, a few of your friends had gotten together in the dried creek behind his house to get wasted, say goodbye with jokes and talk about how he was planning to blow that ‘Midwest shithole’ that Susan had found for them in the middle of nowhere. You’d all stayed well past the setting sun, watching the running oranges and red dampen into a star-smattered sky while passing around the cheapest bottle of vodka that Wayne had been able to get his hands on.

The burn of the cheap booze sat in your throat even after the bottle had been handed from you to Billy to Wayne then to Sid, the bitter taste masked only by the bottle of apple juice you’d been nursing on the side.

“This year is going to blow without you man. Why’d your sister have to go try and run away like that?”

“She’s just a kid.” You defended.

“She’s not my sister.” His first answer overlapped your own. “She’s not my sister.” The second a much firmer response.

“Right, sorry man. I’m just bummed you’re leaving.” Sid raised his hands in defeat and the stereo pausing before switching to the following song, Rock you like a hurricane, was like an awkward punctuation to the tense conversation.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll be back here the day I turn eighteen. There’s no way I’m staying in that backwoods hell.” A breeze kicked up, warm but with the barest whispers of the impending winter, and you’re hit with the scent of cigarettes, liquor and cologne.

“Hey, Billy!” A little further down the dried creek Amanda calls out, she’s got a bottle of something brown clutched in her hand and two of her friends flanking her on either side.

“It’s about time you showed up.” Billy’s grin is wolfish when he pats his leg to invite her to sit on his lap, the excuse of there being nowhere else to sit leaving his mouth before she could make her way to the over crowded couch.

Things picked up from there, a bottle being passed between friends turned into more cars pulling up and beers being handed out as people clapped Billy on the back and told them they’d miss him, plans for the following summer already being made with liquor fueled optimism.

It was around three when people begrudgingly began to make their way home, designated drivers towing their drunken friends into their cars where they’d shout a final goodbye over the idling engines and milling people to Billy who just waved them off in favor of sucking face with Amanda.

“Hey man, we’ve gotta get home. My mom gets up at five and if I’m not home she’s gonna ship me off to Indiana with you.” Wayne stood behind the couch, fingers gripping the backrest and shaking it to get the pair's attention.

“I’m a little occupied.” Amanda’s lips stayed busy against his cheek as Wayne continued to whine about Sid being too drunk to drive them home.

“School starts in a couple hours, Billy. We could really use a ride home.” He didn’t respond to you at first, instead tilting his head so Amanda could continue to lather him with attention.

“Come on man.” Wayne shook the back of the couch hard enough it rattled you as well to no response other than a middle finger in his face. “Why don’t you try, Honey? He likes you better.”

“It is getting really late, Billy, would you mind taking us home?” Billy’s head lolled to the side and for a few seconds you felt like he was scrutinizing you, his blue eyes hardened for the briefest moment before softening and ultimately shifting to annoyance.

“Let’s go.” He patted the side of Amanda’s hip to tell her to hop off. “I’ll be back, Honey, wait for me here. Let’s make this quick, I have better things to do than drive you three home.”

“Told you he’d do it if you asked.” Wayne’s breath reeked of cheap beer when he leaned in to try to whisper that to you but the words simply went in one ear and out the other, just barely registering in the back of your mind.

He’d called her Honey.

He’d called her Honey and that shouldn’t have bothered you, but it had, more than the cold shoulder he’d been giving you for the past two months. It was a sting, sharp and quick, like the jab of a needle to see how pleased he was when she smiled at the nickname he’d only ever used on you. That had been your name since you were small, it was what everyone had called you, and it had never been all that special, not until it was given to someone else.

Sid’s house was closest and it took both Wayne and Billy to nearly drag him into the house, he’d been well past drunk and found the entire thing funny as the two wrestled him into a standing position so they could get him to walk with them. Wayne was next, a lot more sober than Sid, he offered Billy an arm around the shoulder squeeze and a “Keep in touch man.” Before he was off to climb in through his window.

When he’d pulled up to your house you didn’t reach for the handle, instead turning in your seat to face him. “Did you want to-“

“I’ll stop by tomorrow before I go.” He didn't miss the way your smile faltered as he said that.

“Promise you won’t forget me in the chaos of the morning before you go?”

“I won’t forget you, I promise.” His arm twitched against the back of your headrest where it lay, the habit of you hugging him before leaving his car ingrained into him. It was a small movement unnoticed by you, but a moment of weakness to him to see that he’d been expecting, wanting, that last hug.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Silly Billy.” The nickname got a smile out of him, the first one he’d directed at you that night

“Bye, Honey.”

The next time you see him, you had ended up missing the bus by a few minutes, the fading red of the tail lights grew dimmer as they ventured further into the night. The heavy rain obscuring them and your hope of making it home far quicker than it should have on a summer night like this. It was warm at least, so it could definitely be worse, you reassured yourself, the air stifling despite the waters rushing down your face in rivulets and drenching your uniform with each trudging step forward, it could be winter.

Home was easily more than an hour and a half walk that you weren’t willing to take at this time of night, and the diner’s doors were locked until Sabino made his way in the next morning. A hotel would be too expensive so you turn to walk towards the edge of town hoping that Marie would be home and not at her night shift at the nursing home.

“Get in.” The roar of an engine reaches you before the lights do, muted by the downpour that had left you soaked to the bone and ready to throw down the fifty dollars for the cherrywood hotel that would assure you a bed and a shower in the next few blocks, even if it would be for less than eight hours. Your body tensed for the second it took you to process that the car that had pulled to the stop beside you was the same bright blue Camaro that had left the diner a few hours before you had and once it sunk in who the furrowed brow and rumbling voice belonged to you were more than eager to climb into passenger seat and melt into the leather interior that smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and cologne. “What the hell are you doing out here, you’ll get hit in this weather.”

“I missed the bus, a table of six walked in right before closing and I just got out.” Water still drips from your hair and lingeres on your lashes before splashing onto the seat belt you were strapping across your chest. “I was heading to a coworkers to see if I could spend the night.”

A cigarette stayed tucked between pinched lips while Billy exhaled a sigh,he’d gone straight to the laundromat after grabbing a burger to go and had spent the last two hours on a hard plastic chair waiting for his clothes, which were all crammed in his back seat, to be done. “I’ll give you a lift, you still staying on Lakeshore?”

“Are you sure? It’s a little out of the way.”

“I was heading that way, I’m staying with an old friend until I find a place of my own.” The key with the tag ‘Cherrywood Room 218’ was burning a hole into his back pocket at the lie.

Billy’s knuckles were white, both hands wrapped tightly on the wheel with his thumb tapping against the hard plastic, the sound of the heavy rain pounding the top of his car had muddled with his racing thoughts of what to say until it was a cacophony of white noise that spurred on his anxiety. He’d gotten this far, taken years to heal, made it back home and was seated by you. He knew what he wanted next but being here alone with you had him feeling like he had when he moved away when he was seventeen, unable to express what he was feeling. It boiled his blood to feel helpless in a situation.

“You’re staying?” Just two words, spoken in no special way, warms him, stoking a growing feeling that you’d been feeding with each interaction, with each touch and act of compassion. He knew that he had a lot to fix, and that you weren’t the answer to how he would do that, but you were an ember, crackling quietly as a source of comfort he’d never known before, creating cracks in the wall he’d hastily boarded his heart up with all those years ago when his mom had left.

“I’m sticking around for a while. This place feels like home, you know?” He’d have to break the rest down himself, take steps to the life he knew he wanted, but he had a foundation, a place that wanted him.

His grip on the wheel loosens, the tension from just minutes prior lifting with the contended hum you answered with as if you had just given him permission to allow himself to want to stay.

The drive passes quickly after that, with your head rested against the window watching the rain race against the chilled pane of glass and the both of you wrapped up in your own thoughts, neither of you seeming to realize you’d made it to your driveway until the car went from smooth cement to the crunching of your gravel driveway.

You linger in the car for a minute, your hand on the handle of the door steeling yourself to be drenched again. “Thanks for the ride, Billy.”

“It’s not a big deal, I’m staying just a few minutes from here.” Again the key feels more present in his pocket, reminding him of the can of worms he was opening by allowing himself to take this time with you.

“I’m glad you’re sticking around, senior year just wasn’t the same without you around, I missed having you there.” The volume of the rain increases as you crack open the door. “Thanks again for taking me home, the next time you come into the diner, desserts on me.”

“Take this.” Before you’d fully opened the door Billy shrugs his coat off, the same brown leather one he’d had since you were fourteen, to hand to you, his favorite one he’d never let anyone else wear, let alone borrow before tonight. He lingered for a bit, watching you run the short distance to your front door with his coat held above your head, the leather he’d taken such care of getting drenched to spare you from getting any wetter and only backing out of the drive once he could see the light spilling from your living room as you walked into your apartment.

Any plans he’d thought of having for the following day were forgotten as he decides that pancakes sound perfect for tomorrow’s breakfast.

“Good morning and welcome to Cecil’s, I’ll be your waitress today.” It was early, the gray of the sky muddling into the blue of early dawn, but you were wide awake, the smile on your face genuine as you greeted the third table of the morning.

“I was in green all day.” Jackson is already hard at work on his newest masterpiece, the blue crayon running against the paper to fill the sky like he was in a race against time to complete it.

You glanced at his grandmother for context and she explains that they had a chart for behavior, green was good, yellow was for needing a little extra direction, and red meant they'd been having a hard day.

“Well it sounds like you’ve earned yourself a treat, I'll be sure to tell our cook to make your pancakes extra special. After all, it's not often we get someone who managed to stay in green all day.” The boy beams at you, obviously enjoying the praise and the promise of an extra special breakfast for his good behavior at the daycare. He’d always been a good kid, and you were happy to celebrate that, but you were especially proud at how he’d been so excited to tell you about his accomplishments.

Helen grabs you the moment you put his order in with Sabino. “I’ve got another one for you, honey, Chelsea’s running late again.” The pause and pointed look before she said again was telling. Chelsea being on time was more unlikely than snow in December, but at least she always showed.

You could just make out the mess of blonde curls over the high back of the booth, styled to perfection but made to look effortlessly natural. “Welcome to Cecil’s, I’ll be your waitress this morning. Can I get you started with some coffee?”

Billy looked at ease, he almost always did, one arm tossed over the back of the booth and a bored look on his face. His jaw is tense, a nervous tick he remedied by placing an unlit cigarette between his lips.

The filter between his lips being crushed when he offered a tight lipped nod and slid the still upside down ceramic cup to you.

He could swear the sun broke through the clouds at the same time you smile, maybe even believes it only had because you did if it hadn’t been so embarrassing, dusting the gray expanse with gold to match the warmth of your grin as you rattled off the specials of the day even though you both knew he was getting the peanut butter banana nut pancake stack you’d promised at the movies.

Your pencil, a stumpy little thing just barely long enough for you to hold, had been scribbling on the notepad you carried in your apron, writing an order down he hadn't placed before you had even finished telling him about the soup of the day. “I’ll be right back with your food, Billy.”

Wafts of smoke start to lazily float up the moment you walk away, twirling in wispy gray lines before dissipating into the air. Billy isn’t sure if it’s the rush of nicotine or the comfort of routine but he can feel his muscles losing the tension he hadn’t realized they’d been holding since he walked into the diner, the simple act of doing so being a submission on his end. With all of your prior meetings being on his terms and in his places of comfort walking into a place that was so inanely you felt almost vulnerable.

Less than ten minutes had passed when you were back at his booth with a plate stacked high in one hand and a steaming mug in the other one, the look on your face is all too pleased as you set down a mountain of banana nut pancakes smothered in peanut butter and drowned in syrup. The sight of it alone is enough to make Billy’s teeth ache.

“I brought you some cocoa too.” The mug you hand to him was full to the brim almost to the point of overflowing and topped with a more than generous handful of mini marshmallows the top of which were sprinkled in cinnamon.

Exactly the way he’d taken it since you were both small and had spent your first holiday season together.

The house smelled of chocolate melting into perfectly buttery cookies, splashes of vanilla and sugar settling the house into a holiday haze. On the couch next to you Billy was curled up into himself, half of the blanket you were under was draped over him as you both nursed the cups of cocoa his mom had made you while you attempted to warm up from the day you’d spent playing outside.

On the tv a year without Santa was playing and Billy’s mom sang along to the tune of Heat Miser’s song, your own mother alongside her working on cookies for when Santa made his way here the following morning.

Billy’s attention is ripped away from the screen when he hears your mom calling a name, a name he doesn’t know, and you hop off the couch with your cocoa still in hand to go help her with the cookies.

“Your name isn’t Honey?” The revelation was clearly a shock, his eyes were large, comically so as he repeated the name to himself, your actual name feeling weird and clunky on his tongue after having known you as Honey for the past three months at school.

“You thought my name was Honey?” Billy could feel his face burn at the giggles that caused, both yourself and the two moms in the kitchen cooing over the fact that he’d been calling you Honey this whole time.

“That’s what the teacher always calls you.” He could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping past his face to his ears.

“That’s silly, Billy, that’s just a nickname.”

“Yeah, well…I like that name better.” He took a hasty swallow of cocoa to cover his blunder and coughed as it went down the wrong pipe, the whole ordeal only bringing more attention to him.

“That’s ok, you can call me Honey.”

“Thanks Princess.”

“I'll be back in a bit to see how you’re enjoying the food.” Not if he was enjoying the food, just how he was enjoying it. Billy had been known, by those close to him, to have a notoriously big sweet tooth, he’d done well to reign it in, instead focusing on working out and keeping in shape but he’d never been able to say no to baked goods especially if it was you who was offering them.

When you make your way back around to him, coffee pot in hand to refill his cup, he’d already polished off the cocoa and a third of the pancakes.

“How’s the food?” You spare a cautious glance around to the other diners to assure they were all content before setting the pot onto the table and sliding into the seat opposite him, the worn leather making you scoot more than glide across the bench seating to be directly across from him.

You’d asked him right as he’d taken a bite of his pancakes and he did his best to say it was delicious around the mouth full of sticky cakes which only earned a laugh from you and a glare from him.

“Are you on break?” Billy takes a quick sip of the too hot coffee to help clear the food in his mouth so he could talk to you.

“Not for another few hours but I’ve checked all my tables and can spare a few minutes.” Your hand reaches across the table to steal his fork and uses it to cut a chunk of his pancakes that you steal a bite of. “We really do have the best pancakes.”

“Do you always steal your customers' food?”

“Only the ones I really like.” It was an old game between you two, shared food, stolen food, some days he’d steal your cherries and you’d take his pickles anytime his food came with them. Seeing you slip into your old role so easily brings a smile to his face.

“Do you want to go out sometime?” It slips out before he’d wanted it too, the words leaving his mouth before they get a chance to fully form in his head. He’d been wanting to ask you,in a far less crass and direct way but the question lingered in the air unable to be taken back.

“Like on a date?”

“Yeah princess, a date.” It was already out there so he doubles down, layering his voice with that thick charm that he’d practiced, and perfected, over the years. Leaning in, Billy let the knuckles of his right hand brush against the top of your folded hands that were resting flat on the table, you were soft against his own battle scarred skin.

“Sure Billy, I’d love to.” It was a fast answer, instant really, an eager response and the matching grin you held on your face has him retracting his hands back to his own side, both of them landing in his lap before they slid down to his knees so he’d have a place to rest them. What did he normally do with his hands after someone had said yes? “I'm free. Friday night.”

You weren’t but nothing worth doing was going to be happening on a Wednesday evening and trading a shift to soothe the fluttering in your stomach that had been building since your first run in in the diner parking lot seemed worth it.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Are you just going to wait by the window?” You’d been hovering in Lisa’s peripheral for the last ten or so minutes, alternating between checking the window by the door and double - then triple checking that you still looked ok in the little circular mirror that was older than you were that was pinned to the wall. “You’re going to pace a hole into our carpet.”

“It’s been awhile.”

“That you’ve been on a date or that you’ve been with Billy?” You held her full attention now, Lisa’s body twisted on the couch so she could rest her torso on the arm rest and watch you with an amused gaze. The name ‘Billy’ came out in a lilting way telling you she already knew the answer to your question.

“I’ve missed him, y’know?” You wouldn’t say a piece of you had been missing, but his absence had been felt. It was felt in the way you’d hear a car peeling down the street and your head would still turn, always expecting to see the blue build of his Camaro and to this day you still get an extra cherry on your milkshakes because he’d always stolen the one off of yours for years. Having him gone was like losing your favorite sweater or chapstick, you know it’s gone yet you still find yourself searching for its comfort.

Lisa’s eyes study your face for what felt like an uncomfortable amount of time but in reality had only been a few seconds before she turns back around on the couch sliding down into the divet she’d made to continue watching whatever had been holding her interest before. “Make sure he has you home before midnight.”

This time when you heard the roar of an engine pulling into the spot in front of your apartment you know that as soon as that door opened you’d find the perfectly polished metal of Billy’s 1979 Chevy and Billy himself on the other side waiting for you.

You can smell it the moment you’d climb into his car, a warm, greasy, salty scent that makes your mouth water filling the air. Nestled between your two seats you could see a white bag, still warm enough you could feel the heat radiating from it, with bold red lettering and the paper turning translucent from the grease seeping through it from the fast food inside. “I haven’t had this in years.”

Billy had his foot on the gas the moment your seatbelt clicked into place, the music turning up as he turned onto the street and began to drive you towards the edge of town.This time settling into the passenger seat felt right, like sliding on your favorite sweater that you’d worn over in time, like it was your seat again.

Small talk fills the short ride, your excitement over him being there and his slanted half smile coming easily, like no time had ever been spent apart, your comments being met with sarcastic banter and teasing remarks. The drive ended up going quickly and finishes with him pulling into the empty parking lot of a park you’d often pass by while running errands, the dark stretch of playground and grassy fields being illuminated by the pale moon overhead and the filtered yellow of the lampposts littered around the area.

The two of you sit on the play area, bypassing the splintering picnic tables to sit on the faded black plastic of the swings, the chains digging into the meat of your palms as you held onto them to help keep you in place while your legs folded in and out to get just enough momentum going for a light swing.

“This seemed so much bigger when we were younger.” You can still see his blonde curls leading the way around the playground, frizzy from playing in the hot summer sun, and still hear his voice excitedly telling you about the seven foot wave his mom had let him surf on his own over summer break.

Beside you the paper bag crinkles as Billy digs out the food he’d gotten for your date and you’re handed two tacos and a large curly fry. “Haven’t had this since junior year, there’s nothing in that shithole but cows and corn.”

“You still remember my order.” The swing drags to a stop when you push your heels into the soil and wood chips below, two deep divots forming in the material at the base of your heels as your movements halted.

You go for the curly fries first and the memories of lunch runs and late night drives hits you before the salt registers on your tongue, the way he’d always grumble about crumbs in his car negated by the salty treats he always seemed to have around for you.

Billy had always been unapologetically himself but it was only when you’d begun reminiscing on both your shared past and the years apart did you truly get to see him as he’d been in your memories, eyes bright and that deep hearty laugh of his twisting your stomach in knots that only his smile eases.

The rest of the night passes like that, stories shared between bites of food, jokes that weren’t nearly as funny as the way you two were laughing at them made them out to be and every so often his knuckles brush against your own as the swings sway with your movements. You stay in the park until what you could only guess was well past the curfew Lisa had given you, the cars having long since cleared the road.

It wasn’t until his car pulls into your parking lot that he kisses you, there was lull in conversation as you sat in the passenger seat with neither of you in a rush for the night to truly be over. You’d just finished telling him a story about graduation and how Sid and Wayne had almost made you miss your turn to walk and you have the biggest smile on your face.

You were always smiling, sure in him as a person in a way it took life-altering events for him to be in himself, even now as his fingers hesitated moving gently against the swell of your cheek. He’d been good at this before, it came naturally to him; a flash of a smile, a compliment here, a light touch there and whoever he was with was putty.

When his lips brushed against yours it was light, a soft glide of his lips that made your lips tingle. The initial kiss was enough to make him hungry for more, his own slightly chapped lips pressing against your own more eagerly, the hand that was just barely ghosting against your skin now cradled your face, holding it firmly to keep you in place as his lips moved against your own. The kiss had a sense of urgency to it, longing and needy but with no end goal in mind, he took and you were happy to give.

You couldn’t be sure how long it lasted,was it a long kiss? Short? Time had slipped away, moving around the two of you, just for this one moment, the moment everyone but the two of you had seen coming since fall of ‘72 when you’d intertwined your little hands for the first time and instantly bonded.

Billy broke away first, his lips kiss swollen and slick, but he remained close, his half lidded eyes, normally so icy and sharp had warmed to a softer shade of blue as they stayed level with your own, drinking in your own dazed but entirely pleased expression and only darting down to watch the way you bit the corner of your lip, chewing on it with a giddy smile.

“Wow.” He couldn’t help but snort a laugh at that, your genuine response simple but so endearing, that same sunshine bright smile on your face as he laughed at your awe-struck answer to your very first kiss together.

“Wow?” He was sure you would be able to warm up even the dreariest of Hawkins winters with the way you were looking at him, eye bright and taking him in like he was the one who could thaw a cold Midwest January day with just a look.

“I’ve been hoping you’d do that since you drove me home back in August.” There was a breathlessness to your voice with the kiss itself not being too heated, but the thrill of how perfect it felt to have him mould against you stealing the air from your lungs all the same.

You would have stayed there all night if you hadn’t had a shift the following morning but the late hour didn't stop you from stealing one more quick kiss before bidding him good night.

“I’ll see you in the morning Honey.” This time as you climb out of the car and he promises to see you the following morning you know he’ll be there.

Special thanks to so many people first @jo-harrington who is the reason I wrote this. @the-unforgivenn who has read this enough times im sure she could recite it by memory. @ghost-proofbaby @hellfire--cult (who also made the amazing banner and divider) @munson-blurbs @dr-aculaaa who all helped plot and cheer me on every step of the way. I’m so appreciative of you all 💕

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #i honestly consider this my first full real fic #i hope you guys like it

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nanawritesit · 4 months

Text

Beelzebub Imagine: Making Breakfast Together

TW: kissing, cuddling, preparing and eating food, brief mentions of dieting (asmo)

—————

You squinted as your alarm went off, reaching over to turn it off. Why is it going off so early? you asked yourself momentarily, then sighed as you remembered. It was your day to make breakfast with Beel.

Seeing as there were seven days a week, Lucifer decided to leave meal preparations to the brothers, being that there were seven of them. Rather than throw off the system just to give you a day, he decided to just have you assist Beel on his day. He was always eating everything before he could serve it, and you were pretty good at controlling him.

You threw on your robe and slippers and made your way down the hall to Beel and Belphie’s room. You never had to worry about waking Belphie up, since he could sleep through an earthquake.

“Beel, honey…” you spoke softly, shaking him awake. “It’s time to make breakfast.”

He opened an eye at the mention of breakfast, then saw you sitting next to him with a cute smile. “Good morning Y/N.” he grinned back at you, stretching slightly.

“Good morning, Beelzebaby.” you replied, ruffling his tangerine locks. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mmhm.” he nodded, yawning slightly. Suddenly, he scooped you up in his arms and rolled you over to the other side of the bed, clinging onto you like a koala.

“Beel!” you yelped as he did so, giggling at his sudden display of affection. “What are you doing?”

“Getting my cuddles in.” he answered matter of factly, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I can’t start my day without them.”

“Awh, that’s sweet babe, but we really need to get started on breakfast…” you protested, trying to move out of his grasp. He was much too strong though, pinning you down to the bed with just his body weight.

“Mm, five more minutes…” he groaned.

“Now you’re starting to sound like your twin over there.” you teased him, gesturing to the demon on the other side of the room who was currently drooling into his cow-print pillow. “If I give you a kiss, will you get up?”

“Maybe…” he grumbled with a pouty tone. You simply chuckled at his false apathy and sat up in his arms to place a sweet kiss on his lips. He smiled as you pulled away, pulling you back down for another one, then another one after that, then one more…

“Beel, you’re being so gluttonous!” you giggled, shoving him away from you.

“I can’t help it, you taste so good…” he justified himself, finally rolling off the bed. “But, I’m a demon of my word. Let’s go, babe.”

You jumped up on his back on the way down the stairs, making him stumble a bit in surprise but still catch you without any problem. You were so small compared to him that the entire force of your body weight barely made him tumble over.

The violet-eyed demon set you down gently as you reached the kitchen, then immediately busied himself with preparing the drinks. It was your arrangement that he would handle making the drinks while you started on the food. It was partly because he wanted things to be fair, and partly an attempt to make sure he didn’t eat all of the food before breakfast was served. Besides, you could usually finish cooking the food before all of the drinks were finished.

The brothers were super picky with their drinks, and they all wanted something different. Lucifer insisted on having his shadow coffee mixed with oolong and black tea, Mammon wanted his chaos devil cider with ginger ale, Levi requested orange acid and iced tea, Satan wouldn’t drink anything but caged clot matcha, Asmo demanded a bloody berry smoothie, Beel liked blood strawberry juice with his pancakes, and Belphie needed a d-energy drink to start his day or he wouldn’t have a hope of making it through classes. You were the easiest person to cater to, only requesting a simple hell coffee with cream and sugar.

While Beel was hard at work preparing the long list of detailed drinks, you got started on the food items. You decided to make hell pancakes, bufo eggs, and black-tapir steak since it was such a hit with everyone. They weren’t nearly as choosy with their food as they were with their drinks. Well, except for Asmo, who only drank his smoothie because he “needed to stay slender.”

As Beel was waiting for all the various teas and coffees to brew, he decided to wander over to the stove and wrap his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. It was kind of awkward for him to bend down so far, but he wanted to be close to you.

“Whatcha’ doin, Beelzebaby?” you inquired with a tiny grin.

“Hugging you.” he replied, nuzzling his face into your neck. He glanced down at the pan you were stirring up the steak in with some death garlic and grieving onion. He sniffed the air and squinted his eyes shut in pleasure. “Mm, that smells really good…”

“You know the rules, Beel. No eating until we get to the table.” you informed him sternly.

“But Y/N…” he whined, gripping onto you tighter. “I don’t think I can make it that long…” He began peppering kisses all across your cheek, ear, and neck, making you feel flustered.

“Okay, you can have one bite. No more, understand?” you explained to him.

He nodded frantically into your shoulder. “Yes, only one, I promise.”

You picked up a piece of steak with the tongs and held it up to his lips. He gobbled it straight up, swallowing it in seconds. You could feel the happiness radiating off of him as he enjoyed the savory flavor. He didn’t seem to care at all that it was searing hot, or that it was half cooked.

“Thanks baby, that was delicious.” he beamed, kissing your cheek one last time before walking back over to the kitchen island where he was preparing his drinks. Now having received a pick-me-up, he had all the energy he needed to finish making them.

After what felt like forever, you had finished making all the food, and scooped it into serving dishes to be brought out into the dining room.

“Let me take those babe, they look heavy.” your boyfriend insisted, taking them from you. You smiled gratefully, then carefully picked up the tray of drinks and followed him out to the dining room.

As you arrived at the table, the rest of the brothers all started filing in. Lucifer was first, as usual, and graciously took his place at the head of the table.

“Here’s your shadow coffee with oolong and black tea.” you chirped as you held the tray out to the eldest brother.

“Thank you very much, Y/N.” he chimed with a small appreciative smile. “I really appreciate you helping Beel prepare breakfast. I’m sure it’s not an easy task.”

“Nonsense, I enjoy being around him.” you reassured him.

Beel gave you a touched grin and a small blush, ruffling your hair as you walked past him. He wouldn’t trade you for anything else in the whole world, and you felt the exact same way about him.

#beelzebub x reader #beelzebub imagines #beelzebub scenarios #beelzebub fluff #beelzebub fanfic #beelzebub obey me #beelzebub headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me shall we date #obey me writing #obey me requests #obey me x reader #obey me scenarios #obey me fluff #obey me fanfic

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Hi love! Joel Miller has rotted my brain for forever now and I’m so excited to see the influx of fanfiction for him! ☺️☺️ if I could put in another request with pre-outbreak Joel again, please, could you do one where it’s outbreak day and the reader is already in an established relationship with Joel and is close with Sarah. Maybe the reader is with Sarah when everything starts to go down? A nice mix of angst and fluff? Thank you hun 🥰🥰

AN | There’s plenty of softness and fluff 🥰 but also a very sad ending (sorry, but also not)!

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, TLOU typical violence [outbreak day chaos, attack by infected, non-descriptive mentions of injury and blood]

Word Count | 2.9k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey,” he heard your voice, soft and sweet like golden honey. He felt your touch, soft and warm, ghosting over the exposed skin of his back, mindlessly tracing over his freckles, “hey sleepyhead, it’s time to get up.”

“I’m up, I’m up,” his protest was weak and his resolve to actually get up melted even further as you wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled yourself closer to him, “baby.”

“Come on birthday boy,” a row of kisses was pressed to his bare shoulder as you tried to nudge him towards the edge of the bed, “busy day today, we’ve gotta get up.”

“Can’t we just stay here all day?” He knew it wasn’t an option but he figured it was worthy of a try.

“I-”

“Get up!” you heard Sarah’s voice from the other side of the slightly cracked door, “and if you’re doing anything nasty, close the door at least!”

Joel grinned but Sarah giggled as she ran downstairs and to the kitchen. You rolled onto your back and sighed happily at the ceiling. You really, really loved the Millers.

“You heard the lady,” you rolled out of bed and pulled on his t-shirt from the night before. Joel opened an appreciative eye as he watched you head into the ensuite bathroom. But before you disappeared from sight, you stuck your head around the corner and beamed at him. God, he loved your pretty smile, “happy birthday, my love.”

Joel sat up against the headboard, arms crossed over his broad, golden chest. He was tired, but there was a warm smile quirking up the corners of his mouth nonetheless, “thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you tossed a clean towel at him, “now get up, or we’re both going to get yelled at.”

“And we definitely don’t want that.”

“We absolutely do not.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“This looks amazing,” Sarah was a wonderful kid. Like, truly so. You never thought you’d feel that way about any kid, but she’d proved you wrong. She preened under your praise as you pressed a kiss to the side of her head, “you did this all by yourself?”

“As if,” Tommy Miller poked his head out from the fridge and cheekily waved his hand at you. You playfully rolled your eyes but returned the wave. When you said you loved the Millers, you really meant all the Millers, “I squeezed - by hand - the oranges that made that delicious juice. And cooked the bacon.”

“I don’t like the grease,” Sarah shrugged with a teasing glower at her uncle. You grinned when you saw the balloons they’d blown up floating around the kitchen, along with a wonkily hung happy birthday banner, “but I made the pancakes.”

“Well, both of you did a wonderful job,” you praised as the three of you heard Joel coming down the stairs. You exchanged a quick look with Tommy and Sarah and the two of them nodded in silent understanding.

“Happy Birthday!”

The two of you shouted in unison, catching the poor man off guard as he almost jumped at the sound of all three of you at once. He clutched at his heart as he watched into the kitchen, pulled into a hug by his daughter and brother. Once they let him go, he came over and pulled you into his arms, hugging in a bone crushing grip, before kissing you sweetly.

“Save that for later,” Sarah groaned before taking his hand and leading him to the table, “we have to have breakfast and then you’ve got to take me to school, old man.”

“I should make you walk,” he joked and the girl pretended to be upset. The two of them were too funny for their own good, “I’m thirty-six years old you little shit, who are you calling an old man?”

“Definitely not my wonderful, amazing father that’s not old at all,” she tried again, “and the one who gives me rides to school.”

“Yeah,” he waved her off, but the affection and love was written all over his face, “you’re lucky I love you!”

“I love you more, dad!”

-─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"You seem very happy today," Betty gave you a knowing smile as you walked into the office's break room to grab a cup of coffee; well another. It's been a long day at the law office already.

"Well," you took a sip and smiled softly, "it's Joel's birthday today. He likes to pretend to be all grumpy, but we know he loves it. His brother and daughter made him breakfast this morning and you should have seen his face light up."

"He's a nice guy," she agreed. Most of the women - people - in the office loved him, "any plans tonight, then?"

"Stop," your face warmed as you laughed softly, "not tonight. He's working late, so I'm hanging with Sarah. If he's home at a decent hour, we're having a movie night. But…I do have a little something planned for the long weekend."

"Oh, do tell," Betty was funny in a way, but you liked her. She was older than you, and she'd been married for eons. She liked to joke around that marriage was such a drag but it was obvious just how much she loved her husband. You hoped that would be you and Joel one day.

"I've got a little weekend getaway planned," you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively, "Tommy is going to watch Sarah, so it'll be just the two of us."

"Very nice," she clinked her mug against yours, "well, cheers to Joel, and you."

"Cheers!"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Do you think he'll like it?" Sarah gave her cake a dismal little look as you looked over. It was a little wonky looking with mismatched candles, but still beautiful. All her.

“He’s going to be over the moon babe,” you promised her, watching as the smile on her face grew and grew. She set the plate on the dining room table, next to the present she got for him (with your assistance but that didn’t matter), “I’m sure he’ll be home soon.”

“I hope,” she agreed, “he’s been working late a lot and it’s birthday. He should be here.”

“And here he is,” the back door creaked open, both of you too wrapped up in what you were doing to hear his truck. He beamed at the two of you, causing Sarah to squeal and run over to him, throwing herself in his arms, “hey, kid.”

“I missed you,” she looked at him, her big brown eyes mirroring his own, “you said you’d be home like an hour ago!”

“I know baby, I know,” he touched her cheek affectionately, “there was somethin’ weird going on in the city and it took forever to get home. What’d I miss, huh?”

“Nothing,” she grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the table before throwing her arms out in a ta-da gesture, “except this amazing cake!”

“And present,” you added with a cheeky wink.

“And present,” she agreed happily, “now hurry up so we can have some cake and watch the movie? It’s getting late and unfortunately, you force me to go to school everyday, so.”

“So,” he put his hands on his hips as he stuck tongue out at her, “go in and get ready for bed. Then we can have some cake and watch the movie.”

“Yes!” she pumped her fist excitedly, but before she could run upstairs, she stopped herself, “wait - open this first.”

“What is it?” his grin only grew as she handed him the box, “where’d you get the money for this?”

“Drugs,” she snorted in amusement, “I sell hardcore drugs.”

“I should have known,” he shook while delicately opening the small box, “you’ve always been nothing but trouble. What is - wow.”

He took the watch in his hand and looked it over carefully, watching it steadily tick again. It hadn’t worked properly in years; he’d always loved it, but now, seeing it fixed by his brilliant daughter, he decided it was his favorite thing in the world.

“Do you like it?” her voice was small; timid. She suddenly sounded every bit her age, so young and full of life, “I know you’d never get it fixed yourself and now you don’t have to.”

“I love it,” he put the watch on and pulled in for a tight hug, “I love you, baby. Thank you so much.”

“Happy birthday dad,” she kissed his cheek before running upstairs to change.

“Troublemakers,” Joel teased as he took the few steps over to you, “both of you.”

“Good trouble,” you insisted, easily falling into his touch as he wrapped his arms around you. You felt him kiss the crown of your head as melted into him causing him to hum contentedly, “happy birthday, my love. Cheers to today and a lifetime more.”

“Thank you,” he pulled back and kissed you softly, both of silently asking for more and refusing to break apart until you heard Sarah clear her throat.

“You’re going away and you’ve got all weekend to do that,” she grabbed the DVD off the table and headed into the living room, “my virgin eyes don’t need to see this!”

“You heard her, Miller,” you nudged him in the direction of the couch, “control yourself!”

“This isn’t finished,” he whispered under his breath, “far from it.”

“I’m counting on that.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Sarah was sleeping, sprawled half on your lap and half on Joel’s. The two of you were halfheartedly watching the movie, lost in each other’s small touches and looks. This - this simple act of being home with the two people you loved most in his world - was everything to you. There was no place you’d rather have been.

You were in the midst of exchanging a look with Joel when you heard a loud boom outside. The two of you startled as Sarah woke up and looked around in confusion. The sound of yelling and screaming soon reached your ears as Sarah hugged onto you, “what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted as Joel went to the front door to look outside. The neighborhood was normally quiet and sleepy; nothing like this. You swallowed the lump in your throat as a few car alarms went off, “Joel?”

“There’s a fire down the street,” there was a deep frown on his face, “stay here. I’m going to go and take a look.”

“I don’t know if that’s-”

“Just real quick,” he insisted, “it’s old man Smith’s house. I just want to make sure he’s all right.”

“Okay,” you nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. You didn’t like the idea of him going out there, “be careful…please.”

“I’ll be back in just a few,” he promised with a nod before slipping on his boots and heading down the street.

“Come on,” you tenderly nudged up the girl so you take her upstairs and hopefully too bed. You wanted her to be able to get some rest, “let’s get you to bed, missy.”

“Do you think dad will be okay?”

“Of course he will,” but it was a promise that didn’t settle quite right in your stomach. There was a nagging feeling that was slowly starting to consume you and you hated it, “dad’s gonna get through anything. And I’m sure it’s nothing major - maybe something just caught fire.”

“Okay,” but you could tell she wasn’t quite convinced either, “I love you.”

“I love you too, babe,” you didn’t like how final her words seemed to be appear, “more than anything.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You ended up pacing around the living room for almost an hour as you waited for Joel to get back. Just a few minutes, you sighed lightly, of course it wasn't just a few minutes. Your nerves grew with each passing moment.

It grew quiet for a while, which you weren't sure was a good or bad sign. Your question was soon answered by screaming and barking from next door. Sarah barreled down the stairs, panic on her face.

"The dog," she said, "next door. He's barking and I-I think he's scared. I want to go and check on him."

"Sarah," you shook your head, blood rushing in your ears and heart pounding in your chest, "we should just wait inside."

"But-"

"Your dad's not back."

"Well, then we have to find him too!" and she was out the door before you could stop her. You followed after her, not even bothering with shoes.

"Sarah!" you found her running down next door, trying to comfort the whimpering dog. Something just felt off. The front door was open but the lights were off; the fire at the end of the street was showering the neighborhood in an orange haze, "don't go in there!"

"But…"

"Don't," you insisted, "come here. Please. I know you want to save the dog, but it's not safe."

She looked close to tears but gave you a small nod. When you turned to look at the neighborhood, you finally saw all the chaos that had broken out. There was fire around, people screaming and running and shouting. It felt apocalyptic.

"Come on," you took her hand and tried to lead her back to the house. You weren't sure if it was the best choice but it was all you could think of at the moment. Joel would come back and save you soon, "I think we'll be better off-"

"Watch out!"

But Sarah's warning shout came just a moment too late. You couldn't blame her; everything around you was falling apart.

Your knees buckled and hit the ground as you tried to keep your scream of pain down as much as possible. Whoever - or whatever it was - made a horrible sound, somewhere between a growl and shout as it tackled you to the ground. When you got a look at whatever was holding you down, you realized it was Al Walker from down the block. Or at least, it had been. But this version was not; it was something much more sinister.

You tried to keep him back as he tried to lunge and bite you, but you were only so strong. All you could do when you felt the burning in your neck was to wince; you were too busy trying to mentally calm Sarah down. She was in full panic mode and trying to figure out what to do if anything. Your upper body felt sticky and warm; a coppery metallic smell overwhelmed you.

Before you could try to shove him off you again, you heard a loud gunshot coming from some direction before his lifeless body fell on top of you.

“Fuck!” you crawled out from under him, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, and gather your bearings. You found Joel standing in front of Sarah, gently shielding her from whatever was around - from you. All around you people were running around and trying to leave or meeting the same fortune as you.

You swallowed thickly, tears already welling up and running down your face. Joel’s gaze was on your torso and you followed it, inhaling sharply. You were soaked in your own blood and the wound on your neck was burning profusely. Although you didn’t full know what was happening or what sort of chaos had been set loose in the world, you knew this wasn’t good.

“Baby-”

“Joel,” your voice was shaken as you looked at the two of them. You already knew that this would be the last time you’d ever see them. There was just a feeling in your gut that told you so, “go. Go.”

“Not without you.”

“Please,” you’d beg, you weren’t ashamed. All you wanted was for the two of them to get somewhere safe. You could see Tommy pulling up with Joel’s truck; even he seemed extremely rattled, “go with Sarah and Tommy and get to safety. Please, listen to me for once.”

Joel let out a loud groan of frustration before coming over and wrapping you up in a tight hug. You hugged him just as fiercely, despite your initial insistence that he leave, “baby.”

“I know,” you pulled back and took his face in your hands, neither of you caring about the blood that was now covering you both. You kissed him, one last time, sweet and saccharine as it always was, “I love you. But please, get going now. Keep them safe. Keep yourself safe.”

“But-”

“Promise me, Joel Miller,” you insisted firmly and he gave you a teary-eyed nod, “I’ll catch up to you.”

It was a lie. You both knew that.

“I swear it.”

“Good,” you whispered, “now go, and don’t look back.”

“I love you.”

“I know,” you smiled softly and gave him one last kiss, “I know.”

You gently pushed him back as he reached for Sarah and pulled her towards the truck. It felt like time slowed down as you watched them get in and drive away, headed to what you hoped was safety.

Your heart was beyond heavy.

You’d just lost your entire world.

If only you knew what was yet to come.

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us

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kiss-theggoat · 10 months

Note

Ok okay okay- I’m back and I just have to pitch this idea to you. Don’t feel like you need to write anything for it but I just need to slide this over to you. House of Wax setting again lol- okay so the clothes and outfits- the boys have a lot already from their previous victims. But sometimes they want something a bit different for an exhibit. Enter the S/O. Who’s sitting in the garage with Bo, sowing outfits together for Vincent’s new figures. She can’t be in the basement with Vincent since she needs proper light- but can’t be completely alone since the boys are still, even after years, unsure if she’ll try to leave.

So She’s just there, tongue sticking out as she thoughtfully sows glass beads onto a dress. And if any victims walk through the garage, and ask why she’s sowing in here or what she sowing- she’ll say;

“Oh its clothing for the museum”

“Oh I’m working on one of the girls prom dresses.”

“Oh, one of the old men in town ripped his pants again.”

“I just enjoy the company and music.”

She’s also always repairing the boy's clothes when stuff… happens (cough cough knife and chasing)

Angrily sitting there, sowing up Bo’s shirt and lecturing him. “I just re-did this Bo! Now I have to pause my work on the gown for Vincent.”

-🪴🖤

A/N: Hi hi hi 🪴🖤!! Thanks so much for the request and I love the idea! It’s so cute to think of one of the boys coming up with some clothes that need mending. Anyways, on with the one shot!

The Sinclair Seamstress

Sinclair Brothers One Shot

Summary: You find yourself as the personal seamstress for the Sinclair brothers.

TW: none 🖤

The radio was quiet, filling the kitchen with a soft melody which you hummed along to. You were hard at work at breakfast for the Sinclair brothers, whom you’d become very close to in your year in Ambrose. The toaster popped up beside you, and you held the pan that contained almost nine eggs worth of cheese covered scramble. You’d filled the house with an amazing aroma, mixing cheese and eggs and bacon, and onions in half because Bo and Lester liked onions and Vincent and you didn’t. You smiled as you grabbed the toast, now having two pieces for each of you. You placed the carefully on the plate and then buttered them all before putting the egg scramble between the two pieces, along with three pieces of fresh, crispy bacon.

“Somethin’ smells good.” You heard Bo’s raspy morning voice and it filled your chest with warm honey, making you turn around with his plate in your hands like a little kid presenting a handmade gift.

“Breakfast!” You said happily, setting his plate down where he usually sat, at the head of the table. “Sit.” You said, walking towards the fridge. You wanted to grab out the gallon of orange juice you’d gone so far to buy, but you knew that he’d hound you for a beer, so you skipped the hassle and grabbed one for him. You popped the cap off and set it besides his breakfast. Bo looked up at you with a quaint lopsided smile, which you knew meant he was pleased.

Before you could ask what he had planned for the day, you heard the creaking of the steps and whipped around to see Lester, sliding his loose old button up over one arm. As he moved, you noticed the huge hole near the armpit seam of the shirt.

“Lester, you can’t wear that. It’s falling apart.” You scolded and walked towards him, fingers finding the tear and tracing it.

Lester sighed, “Well I ain’t got another shirt today. It’s fine.”

“I can fix it for you before you leave. Do you have a sewing kit?”

Lester gave you a look with one eyebrow up. “You can sew?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I used to make my own clothes and stuff. It’s a really easy fix, no time at all.”

“…Well alright. I’m sure we got some sewin’ stuff somewhere.”

And this conversation was how you became a personal seamstress for the Sinclair brothers. You never thought you’d be in this position, living with three men in a town of wax and making clothes for their sculptures. But, here you sat, red fabric draping over your legs as you moved closer to the seams you were sewing. The only downside to this was that they didn’t own a sewing machine, so everything you made had to be by hand. This definitely simplified yours and Vincent’s designs, but you made it work.

The dress you were working on now was for a pretty blonde girl in a classy red cocktail dress. You were excited about the fitted bodice and the slight flare of the knee length skirt. Vincent was particular about this dress, and the girl that was about to become wax didn’t have anything that fit that vision.

You hummed to yourself as you sewed, enjoying the pace of the activity and the feeling of the fabric under your fingers. You were sequestered to your room in the house, locked, because the boys were dealing with a new group in town. But it was already close to two in the morning, so you decided that you’d stay in your room until sunrise and then you’d go out and look for them.

That concern and worry was quickly flushed away by the sound of the front door slamming shut and familiar big boots stomping up the stairs. You ran up to the door and unlocked it, seeing a sweaty but thankfully not injured Bo.

“Oh thank god.” You said, practically tackling him with your arms around his neck. “You scared the shit out of me, Bo.” You whispered. “Where are Lester and Vincent?”

“They’re alright. They’re in the workshop.”

You pulled away from him and nodded, sighing a breath of relief. As you stared at him, subconsciously scanning for injuries and blood like you were used to, you noticed a giant hole through your perfect sewing.

You reached forward and touched the edges of the tear. “Dammit Bo, I just fixed this! You guys can never keep your clothes in shape.”

“Not exactly my fault, darlin’.”

“Take it off. I already have my stuff out.” You grumbled, moving back towards your chair and moving the dress onto your bed.

“We’re gonna have to tell Vincent that this dress is gonna take longer now because I have to fix your shirt for the ninth time. And he also wants me to make a pair of pants for another sculpture, but-“

“You don’t have to fix it, doll.”

“Take your shirt off, Bo.”

Bo slid his button up off and handed it over to you with a sly smile on his face, chuckling a bit at the fact you were so perturbed at the hole in his shirt. You grabbed his shirt and finally your supplies, sitting back down in your chair to begin sewing.

Just then, you heard more footsteps clunk up the stairs. You looked up from your needle to see Vincent and Lester. And even though you were relieved that they were okay, the stack of drawings in Vincent’s hand, surely new clothes for his new sculptures, made you anything but happy.

#slasher x reader #slashers #horror movies #horror fanfiction #slasher x y/n #house of wax fanfiction #bo sinclair fanfiction #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair x you

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jimmy-dipthong · 10 months

Text

罠英語・Trap Words pt 1

和製英語（わせいえいご）are Japanese words that have some origin in English, but have been appropriated by the Japanese speaking community. Often, if converted from katakana to English, they won’t be real English words (which can sometimes lead to funny mistranslations on signs).

シャーペン → shar-pen?? ❌ → mechanical pencil ✅

トランプ → trump?? ❌ → playing cards ✅

ベビーカー → baby car?? ❌ → stroller/pram ✅

However, there is a subcategory of 和製英語 which is particularly insidious, as a japanese learner. I’m gonna call them 罠英語 - trap words. They appear to be a normal English word simply converted into kanakana, but although they look like a regular old loan word, they are actually a Japanese misinterpretation or reinterpretation of an English word.

マンション → mansion ❌ → condominium/apartment ✅

The most well known example is probably マンション. Each of these words has a history which explains how they became trap words. In マンション’s case, it was business. In the 1960s, Japanese developers were building luxury housing complexes, but wanted to differentiate them from other housing complexes that had a low-class image, like public housing.¹ As far as I can tell, it wasn’t just one company, and マンション wasn’t a brand name. They created a whole new word, borrowing from English. Since then, the word マンション evolved to have a wider and wider scope, now including not just luxury housing complexes but any housing complex.

ジュース → juice ❌ → juice/soft drink/sports drink/mixer ✅

This one drives me up the wall because of how different it is from English. ジュース is a huge umbrella term which includes Coke, Aquarius, ramune, flavoured milk(!!), and actual orange juice. It does NOT include coffee, tea, anything with alcohol, or lemon juice(!!). Why not lemon juice? Because ジュース kinda means “beverage”. You don't usually drink lemon juice straight, so it’s not ジュース. Instead, you call lemon juice レモン汁. There are plenty of recipes on the japanese recipe sharing website Cookpad for レモンジュース, and most of them involve diluting actual lemon juice in carbonated water and mixing it with sugar or honey.²

Apparently, up until the 1960s (〜昭和40年), the word ジュース was not regulated, which meant Japanese brands were free to label fruit flavoured drinks as ジュース, even if they had no actual fruit juice in them. This changed in late 1967, when, thanks to pressure from consumer groups, the Japanese Agricultural Standard Law (JAS法) was revised to include a regulatory definition of the word ジュース: 「果汁100%のもの以外は、『ジュース』という名称で販売できない」(100% fruit juice).³ Even the wikipedia article for ジュース defines it using the JAS definition.⁴ However, the word ジュース had already entered common usage before the law came into effect, and it’s still used today to mean any non-coffee, non-tea, non-alcoholic, sweet beverage, especially ones sold from a vending machine. I believe the prevalence of vending machines may have led to the spread of this word. Another reason ジュース has not been adopted in common use may be that Japanese already has a word for fruit juice - 果汁. Languages dislike redundancy, so it’s natural that one of the two would have changed to have a different meaning. Many native Japanese speakers are unaware of the regulatory definition⁵, (and even then, regulations shouldn’t and don’t dictate how language is used in everyday conversation) so it’s important to be careful!

ノート → note ❌ → notebook ✅

In Japanese, it’s rare that a common word will be longer than 4 kana sounds long (aka morae). Similarly in English, we don’t end to use words that are over 4 syllables long very often. In English, the word “notebook” is 2 syllables, nice and short. But when you convert it into Japanese, it becomes ノートブック, a whole 6 morae! No one has time to say all that! Since English can fit multiple consonants into a single syllable but Japanese can’t, when converting to Japanese, lots of additional vowels get added in, which extends the word. That’s why loan words in Japanese tend to get abbreviated: ビル for building, リモコン for remote control, ティアキン for “Tears of the Kingdom”.⁶ It’s only natural that ノートブック would get abbreviated to ノート. It’s just an unlucky coincidence that “note” happens to be an English word as well. The word for "note" in Japanese is メモ!

This is why the Death Note is called a note, even though it’s not a note, and also gives us this slightly おかしい translation.

I’m keen to post more about these trap words since dictionaries are often quite prescriptivist about the meanings, and it’s hard to get a good idea of what the word means without talking to Japanese people. I also find the histories quite interesting. Let me know if you’re interested! I have a feeling these words (besides ジュース) may be kinda common knowledge, but I hope the explanations were interesting! I think next time I'll talk about some ones that are less commonly known.

[1]: https://www.homes.co.jp/cont/buy_mansion/buy_mansion_00137/ [2]: https://cookpad.com/search/レモンジュース [3]: https://www.meg-snow.com/customer/center/communication/pdf/center12.pdf [4]: https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/ジュース [5]: https://macaro-ni.jp/36654 [6]: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_abbreviated_and_contracted_words

#langblr #japanese #language acquisition #language learning #linguistics #japanese language #learning japanese #language #jimmy blogthong #trap words

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kitchenwitchtingss · 10 months

Text

WITCHY SAGE SKEWERS

They've got witches at the barbeque now????

I rarely ever see witchy grilling recipes for summer, so when in doubt, make your own!

The witchy part comes from the seasonings mostly, but also the intentions. Any food cooked with good intentions goes much farther than that with none.

That being said, sage, rosemary, black pepper, and thyme are kinda like the go-to bad vibes be gone type herbs lol.

I use bok choy and yellow squash in this recipe, but you can totally use whatever vegetables you have on hand at the time.

Oh! You could also try to spice the recipe up by subbing the butter for some sort of BBQ sauce. Sounds yummy.

INGREDIENTS (seasoning measurements are just suggestions):

4 chicken thighs, skinless + boneless (can be substituted for pork, tofu, or any fatty meats)

1 yellow squash, washed.

1 bunch of bok choy, washed.

1/2 tbsp Dried Sage

2 cloves Garlic, Minced

2 tsp Ground Thyme

1.5 tsp Black pepper

1 tsp Onion powder

1 tsp brown sugar (you don't need it if you don't really want anything too sweet)

1 tsp honey (or more brown sugar)

1 tsp salt (plus more for the chicken)

0.5 tbsp Paprika (plus another half for the butter)

1 tsp Dried Rosemary

1/4 cup (4 tbsp) Unsalted Butter

Zest of half an orange (if you don't like orange, you could use lemon instead.)

1 tsp orange juice (or more to taste)

You can add lemon juice if you like a little more tang along with the orange juice

PREP: Mince garlic, soak wooden skewers, wash veggies. Slice yellow squash vertically into thin slices, along with bok choy, slicing vertically across the center. Set aside.

DIRECTIONS

Cut chicken thighs into about one-inch pieces. Season chicken thighs with salt, pepper, paprika, brown sugar, ground sage, and onion powder. Massage chicken until coated nicely. I like them pretty seasoned but really it's up to you!

Soak wooden skewers in water for at least 12 minutes so they don't burn on the grill.

In a bowl, combine mix melted butter, minced garlic, onion powder, salt, paprika thyme, black pepper, honey, and rosemary together in a bowl. Add in orange zest and a tsp of orange juice. I also added a little bit of lemon juice. Set aside.

Toss chicken thighs, bok choy, and yellow squash in olive oil.

To assemble skewers, string on a piece of bok choy, gently folded over itself a couple of times, and pierced through to keep it folded on the skewer. Then, string on a piece of chicken. Next with your thinly sliced yellow squash fold that over just like the bok choy. You could also cut it into bite-size pieces and pierce right through it without needing to fold it over itself. Repeat this pattern until the skewer is full.

Heat the grill, clean the grates, and oil them. On medium high-ish heat, cook the skewers on each side for 5 minutes. Each time you flip the skewer, brush on your sage butter sauce. Make sure the chicken is done before taking it off the grill. It could take more than 5 minutes on each side to cook. To be safe, I cook them for another 3-4 minutes after flipping both sides.

Take off the grill and brush with more sauce if desired!

Enjoy! I made these with some herb-crusted potato wedges and grilled peach salad. They were delightful.

RECIPE NOTES:

I love skewers because you can put any fruits, veggies, and meat on it, and it works. A fun lunch idea is to skewer some peaches, cook them slightly on the grill, and throw it into some sort of salad. Very tasty lol.

I like using Bok Choy because it's very absorbent, and any marinade you put it in, it will soak up all the flavor. Just be careful not to share it on the grill.

Yellow squash is also what I use in this recipe, but the good thing about skewers is that you can use any vegetable. The more colorful, the more fun!

#witches #witchy #kitchen witch #magick #witch #food #foodblogger #recipes #witchblr #kitchen witch recipes #kitchen magick #recipe #summer recipes #savory #chicken #witch blog

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newvegascowboy · 1 year

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Proposal based on your food post and some things in Fallout.

:readmore:

Homemade sodas and sweet drinks are incredibly common based on home recipes passed down through the generations.

In Fallout new Vegas, and in Fallout 4 you can make drinks such as Nuka-Cola.

Filtering water and making it drinkable will be a big priority wherever you go. But making it palatable will also be a big goal.

Local settlements will probably mix sweeteners like syrup, juices, or even honey to mix it in the water.

Tea will be very popular too with all kinds of local teas made from local plants, sweetened with local sweeteners, and traded or even sold to each other.

Tea has the advantage of being boiled, filtered, and flavored making it a popular drink with massive variants between region to region and even settlement to settlement.

Brahmin milk will have a lot of nutrients and apparently good for treating radiation so odds are its also used as a medicine and a big part of a lot of diets.

Some rare drinks may still be possible but take a lot of work such as coffee, and ice cream.

Coffee needs specific growth and a lot of space to grow. So maybe it'll grow in small quantities.

There's ways to make ice cream without machines but it takes a lot of salt, ice, and milk. So you'd have to be very wealthy or very well located to have it

Shaved ice with simple syrups and fruits may make good treats in areas where there's a lot of ice

I fully agree with all of this! Not including it was probably a bit of an oversight on my part, but this is exactly the kind of extrapolation and worldbuilding I was aiming for.

Soda was invented in the mid 1800s, so I don't think it's beyond the realm of possibility for people to have reinvented soft drinks. Originally, the water was taken from springs that were naturally carbonated and today, we can do it at home with compressed CO2. Even if the drinks aren't carbonated, I totally believe and agree with the idea that they're making sweet drinks.

I was going to mention in the original post and forgot, but lemons? Those things totally still exist. Citrus is too much of a botanical freak not to have survived. It might not be lemons (or limes, or oranges) as we know them, but they are OUT THERE and that means lemonade is real.

Tea is canon within the realm of fallout because you can brew several different varieties in 76. Also, hot drinks are comforting, especially in the winter and I think it's totally reasonable to think that new brews have popped up with the addition Coffee grows in Mexico at a similar latitude to Florida and parts of the southern united states, so I think you could claim that certain strains have been cultivated and grown in those areas, though it might be rare and extremely expensive.

Ice cream's origins are known to reach back as far as the second century B.C., although no specific date of origin nor inventor has been undisputably credited with its discovery. We know that Alexander the Great enjoyed snow and ice flavored with honey and nectar. Biblical references also show that King Solomon was fond of iced drinks during harvesting. During the Roman Empire, Nero Claudius Caesar (A.D. 54-86) frequently sent runners into the mountains for snow, which was then flavored with fruits and juices.

Ice cream is one HUNDRED percent a thing in the wasteland. The milk and cream is easy to source from Brahmin milk. Cane sugar can be grown in Florida and Louisiana, so it's not unreasonable to think that that's another rare and expensive import. It would be easier and cheaper to get your sugar from tree sap or malt grain or reduced fruits, but cane sugar is out there. Making ice cream is a pretty popular thing for kids to do -- put some rock salt and ice in a bag with cream, sugar, and vanilla, and shake it until it freezes. On the coast, salt is probably pretty abundant, even if it's time consuming to harvest, but vanilla is probably one spice that nobody has access to in the wasteland.

Ice houses and cold cellars are probably pretty common in the wasteland, so ice could be available all year round. Plus, refrigeration is useful in the process of preserving foods rather than canning or bottling.

I think it's important to keep in mind that people are smart, and just because the bombs dropped, we didn't revert back to the stone age. The knowledge of canning, bottling, making jams and preserves, cold storage, curing meat, making cheese -- all that knowledge is old. Just because modern technology makes it easier doesn't mean people couldn't do it two hundred years ago. If the knowledge is lost, logic and human ingenuity will rediscover it eventually.

#fallout #kal talks #asks #meta #fallout meta #fallout food #i love this kind of shit i love it i love it #important addendum to my post!!!

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belle--ofthebrawl · 10 months

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I love how you write Swiss & Dew & the waythey like to play pretty rough and mean but i am sooo convinced they have another side to them. Like, ok. Hear me out?

Dew feels worn out one hotel night & asks Swiss to treat him gently? Swiss can /totally/ manage that. Except, whenever that happens the pair of idiots (affectionate) end up "making love" in the most classical & then being shy about it the next day. Like, Swiss will destroy Dew emotionally & physically then in the morning it's as if nothing happend but one (1) night of eyecontact, missionarry, & pillow talk they turn into a pair of blushing maidens when their hands meet as they reach for the orange juice at the same time during breakfast.

Am i waaaay off base here? Does Swiss only specialise in the rough stuff?? Idk. i love them either way your honour.

Thank you so much! I'm hardly the first or only person to be writing them like this but I will admit it's so fun to write Swiss being an absolute bastard (positive) and Dew being angry about how much he enjoys it when that happens.

I am also one hundred percent a soft Swiss truther. I fully believe he wields different personas depending on the mood he's in. Why deny anything that gets him off, gets his packmates off? I adore your idea, so I'll share one of my own in return.

Order in the court!

Something gets mixed up, maybe a room is out of order for maintenance but the hotel is packed and no one's exactly willing to sleep on the floor. Dew and Swiss are put into the only room left: the hotel's honeymoon suite and Swiss gets a look in his eye that makes the hair on the back of Dew's neck stand up.

"Gimme the suitcases, honey." He drawls. "I don't want you tiring yourself out before I get my hands on you." He winks at the clerk. "Signed the papers right before we left but, y'know. No privacy on a bus. This works out great."

"Congratulations!" She beams. "Please let me know if you need anything!"

"Got everything I need right here," Swiss murmurs, staring dreamily at Dew, who is staring resolutely at the wall, face aflame.

The room isn't as bad as Dew thinks it is. Sure, the bed and the hot tub are heart shaped and there's a mirror on the ceiling but it comes with wine and chocolates that Swiss insists on getting into. A bath is run, Swiss dotes on Dew. But Dew can't shake the weird, squirmy feeling in his gut the whole ordeal gives him. Does he like being treated so soft, so gentle? He doesn't really know how to react to it, especially from Swiss.

They towel off and hit the sheets. Dew probably makes the first move just to distract himself from what's going on in his head and Swiss lets him. Keeps his hands on Dew's hips as they kiss and rock their hips together until Dew's a shivery, whining mess. At which point Swiss rolls them over, gets his hand around Dew's dick and whispers into his ear how he's gonna make him knot, get the little bulge of it all reddened and raw before Swiss will fuck him, watch his cock spurt out cum with every slow, gentle thrust deep into his little body. He's going to make Dew feel so good.

"Will you let me do it?" He murmurs. "Pretend it's your first time? Will you let me pop that sweet little cherry of yours?"

He squeezes around the base of Dew's cock so Dew can fully grasp what he means by that.

And Dew?

Dew makes the mistake of saying yes.

(It's the best and most confusing orgasm of his entire existence.)

(Everyone jeers at them when they're all on the bus the next morning. Someone twists aluminum foil into wedding rings but then everybody wants one and the next superstore they pass they demand a stupid sheet cake to celebrate "their" wedding.)

(There is absolutely a frosting fight.)

#swiss x dewdrop #swiss ghoul #dewdrop ghoul

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fandomnsfw · 1 year

Text

Changes Epilogue - Scott McCall x Reader

Paring: Scott x Reader

Prompt: Say You Won’t Let Go by James Arthur

Warning: Labor and stuff...

And a BIG thank you to my Beta who did this even though she wasn’t feel well! @lets-imagine-fanfics

Last Chapter! I hope youuuu enjoy!!

Pictures for this ending!

*****

It’s been months since you and Scott had complete the bond. Working out how it worked had been a task but you’d finally managed, with the help of Deaton to find out all the perks and downsides. You were currently sat in the school cafeteria with the pack.

The perks of being true mate are, you can speak to each other through thoughts, however, it does require concentration. Another perk is you can channel Scott’s True Alpha power if you need to, though you had only done it once and that was because Liam and Jackson had been fighting and bitching while everyone was trying to train and you’d had just about enough.

Your eyes had changed colour after the bonding, which you found strange. Once you’d ask Deaton, he’d explained that an Alpha’s mate also known as a Luna, should have similar eyes to omega's except the blue is a lot darker. However, as a true mate, the most submissive wolf of the two gains the ability to channel the stronger wolfs power there for mixing the eye colours together.

So the result was pinky-purple eyes. Personally, you found it weird but Scott always went on to say that you had unique eyes and that they were beautiful. Derek actually agreed, apparently, he thought to have eyes like yours meant you were special and being special was never a bad thing.

Your bond with the pack had grown through the past few months. The younger teens of the group now came to you for help or advice despite the fact that you are actually the newest wolf of the group.

“Liam, get your ass of your brother before I decide you're not too god damn old for time out!” You snapped as you sat down with your glass of orange juice.

“Sorry, mom!” Liam answered back cheekily, knowing it pissed you off.

Melissa strolled into the room with a coffee and her work clothes on. She and Scott had recently been talking about moving into the Hale house permanently mainly because bills were too much and Scott wanted his mom not the work so much.

She sat next to you and held out her cup for you. You took it with a grateful smile but as the scent of the coffee hit your nose full force you began gagging. Melissa and Scott frowned as she followed you to the bathroom. She held back your hair as you threw up everything from this morning.

“Honey, are you okay?” She asked softly, stroking your face as you sat up with tears in your eyes.

“This is the second time this week…” You muttered fearfully the only thought crossing your mind is that you caught some sort of fucked up werewolf disease.

“Y/N! BABY! YOU OKAY? I CAN FEEL YOUR PAIN AND SADNESS!” Scott screamed as he skidded down the hall before backtracking to see you sat there next to the toilet.

“Again?” He asked with concern lacing his voice.

You shot him a nod as Melissa muttered to wait here before running downstairs. Scott bent down to hold you tightly against his chest as he muttered words of comfort. Melissa ran downstairs to see Chris and Derek were the only ones in sight.

“You two!” She yelled as she pointed at them both. They looked up in shock before nodding and the same time.

“Go to the store and get loads of pregnancy tests!” She demanded with wide eyes.

“Melissa don’t tell me yo-”

“Christopher Argent I went through menopause two years ago. Your sperm ain’t that magical.” Melissa sassed, cocking her hip to one side.

“So who?” Derek asked with amusement in his tone.

“Chris doesn’t have super sperm but turns out my son might! GOOOOO I WANNA KNOW IF I’M GONNA BE A GRANDMA!” She yelled impatiently. Chris and Derek’s eyes widened as they took in what you said before they started scrambling about like getting that test was now their only goal in life.

“Why is Der spazzing out like he switched places with me?” Stiles asked as he came into the room with Peter.

“I think Y/N's pregnant.” Melissa puttered before telling them to keep it quiet.

“OH MY GOD! YES!” Stiles screamed before glancing at Peter. He held out his fist and unexpectedly, Peter gave him a fist bump.

Five minutes later Chris and Derek ran in sweating and panting with two carrier bags. Melissa grabbed a plastic cup from the kitchen before making her way upstairs. She hid the tests in her room before taking the cup the bathroom.

“Sweetie, can you pee in this cup, please? I know it’s gross but I need to run a few tests and this is the easiest way.” You gave her a nod before she and Scott left leaving you to do what she asked. After you’d done she took the sample and walked to her room leaving you and Scott to worry.

Melissa dipped about 20 pregnancy tests in the sample before putting the lids on the end and waiting. She turned her back not wanting to watch but all the same wanting to watch every second. After she looked at her watch for what seemed to be the millionth time she finally deemed it time. She spun around and stared down processing what she was seeing.

There laid 20 pregnancy test and every single one was positive. Melissa tried to contain her excitement as she ran to yours and Scott’s bedroom you now shared. She was panting and had a giant smile on her face as she reached the door.

“There is nothing wrong. You’re perfectly healthy just like a werewolf should be.” She said as she took a breath to calm down.

“So why do I keep throwing up?” You asked with a frown.

“It’s nothing bad just you might wanna start eating a little more and coming to see me for check-ups.” Melissa gave you a small smile but her response made you worry even more. If nothing was wrong why would you need to go for check-ups? That’s when it clicked.

Nothing wrong = This is good news

Eat more = Eating for two

Check-ups = Ultrasounds

“OH. MY. GOD. SCOTT MCCALL, YOU ARE DEAD!” You screamed as you launched at him with glowing pink eyes.

“WHAT WHY!?” He screamed as he ran out the bedroom with you running after him.

“YOU AND YOUR DICK ARE DEAD!” You screamed as he ran downstairs in the living area where Peter, Derek, Stiles and Chris were sat.

“WHAT THE HELL DID MY DICK DO!?” He squealed as you tried to hop over the couch to get to him but missed him by a hair.

“Y/N! Be careful!” Melissa scolded causing you to stop and realise, this wasn’t just your body anymore it was a shield that was protecting another life so you had to treat it differently.

“Why am I being chased?!” Scott panted as he looked at his mom and mate.

“I’m pregnant, dumbass.” You muttered a blush working its way to your face. Unlike how you imagined this moment to go later in life it was different. You didn’t have time to think about the usual stuff. Would Scott leave you? Would he make you abort? Does he even want kids? because as soon as you said it Scott picked you up with a giant smile.

“Really?!” He asked as he stared into your wide eyes.

“Y-Yes at least that’s what I figured Melissa meant.” You glanced at her with wide eyes before she gave you a nod.

“Oh my god! I’m gonna be a Dad!” Scott chuckled his face lighting up like you’d never seen.

“I thought it was the Moms who glowed during pregnancy, not the Dads?” You snorted before glancing at Melissa.

“No actually the Dads are glowing and the Moms always look like zombies. The back pain, the boob pain, the feet swelling, the throwing up, the eating of weird shit. You name it.” Melissa shot you a sinister grin and suddenly you felt the urge to kill your baby daddy.

After 20 seconds you had Scott on the floor standing on his chest with one foot. When the front door opened you glanced over to see the Sheriff and shot him a sarcastic smile to let him know you were pissed.

“Why is Scott being punished?” The Sheriff snorted as he stood and glanced down at Scott who sent him a wave.

“I dunno should I tell him Scott? He is basically my Dad after all!” You growled as you applied for pressure to Scott’s chest earning a wince from him.

“Tell me what?” The Sheriff muttered with a glare quickly making it way to his face as he glanced at Scott.

“Papa if you’d be so kind as to hand me your gun first before I tell you that would be great.” You asked sweetly but he immediately passed his gun to you.

“I’m pregnant.” Was all you said, before stepping away from Scott, with a smile on your face.

“I’m gonna be a grandad?” You gaped at the man who you classed as your father confused to why he wasn’t killing Scott.

“OH MY GOD! AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO IS HAVING A HARD TIME ACCEPTING THIS?!” You screamed before storming up the stairs, placing your ‘Dads’ gun on the table near the front door before you went.

You stormed into Lydia’s room without knocking which resulted in a naked Aiden falling off the bed and a naked Lydia sighing. They both looked at you and kept their mouths closed before they began getting dress.

“Honey, what happened?!” Lydia asked as she sat on the bed waving at you to come over. You glanced up at her from the door, tears streaming as you finally spoke up.

“I’m pregnant.” Aiden gasped whereas Lydia opened her arms and you ran into them.

She held you as you cried never saying congrats or this is good news. She just held you and right now that is what you needed. Aiden moved to close the door before sitting back down and stroking your back.

“I know its scary baby girl but listen to me when I say this.” She pulled you away and cupped your cheeks.

“You will be a great mother.” That was the only thing you needed before you broke down completely.

“You are not like your mother. You are kind and you’re fearless and above all else, you always protect your family. I know you’re scared and I know you want to run baby but right now I need you to think about your child. I know you’re 18 and haven’t even finished high school yet but I also know if anyone can do this…it’s you.” She whispered into your hair as you clung to the other girl. Suddenly Aiden shocked you into sitting up by speaking.

“This child will never go unloved or want for anything. We’re your family and we’re here to help you. No matter what Y/N.” You and Aiden always took the piss out of each other and teased one another but you had a bond that not many others could ever understand. He stared into your eyes, letting you know he was sincere and you gave him a small smile that screamed thank you.

“I think you should go and talk to Scott.” Lydia stated as she looked at you with a smile. You gave her a nod before drying your eyes and making your way downstairs to find Scott.

You found him sat in the living room with the other as his teeth worried as his bottom. He looked up before rushing over to you and hugging you so tightly. In that moment you knew you could do this because your family would never leave you and would always believe in you.

….

“Lydia, I really don’t think we need a designer pram…” You muttered as you strolled through the shops with Derek, Lydia, Peter and Stiles.

“Maybe, but it’s the first pack baby and if we need to we can put it in the attic for when another pack member has a baby.” Lydia argued as she glanced at Derek.

“I hate to say it but I actually agree with Lydia.” Derek grunted as he glanced around the prams. You looked around and spotted a pure white pram that stood out to you. You strolled over to it but as you tried to check the price tag Peter grab your wrist and nodded to the Derek. Derek turned to the sales-person with a smile and handing over his card.

“Peter! I wanna check the price first!” You snapped angrily but he just shook his head and began dragging you out the shop. The next shop was for clothes which you dread because you had yet to tell anyone but Scott, Melissa and your Dad the sex of the baby.

“Right you’re gonna have to tell us the sex or this is gonna be difficult.” Lydia sighed as she glanced and the expensive multi-designer brand baby shop.

“Girl.” You muttered quietly but you knew she’d heard you when her and Stiles let out a scream before running off.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell her. Now she’s gonna buy so many clothes that are desi-” You looked to your side to see Derek and Peter had disappeared and were now cooing at baby Gucci dresses.

“Seriously!” You huffed before walking over to Derek.

“Do you not think it’s weird for a teen mom to have baby Gucci and baby Chloé?” You muttered as you approached Peter and Derek who was picking up a baby Chloé pink winter coat.

“Nope, not when she has Hales as uncles.” Peter sassed earning a glare from you.

“I like this Gucci pinafore dress with this white shirt.” Stiles grinned as he approached you with a tartan pinafore dress and a white long sleeved shirt that had a lacy collar.

“That is so cute!” You squealed as Lydia approached you with wide eyes.

“Christian Louboutin started doing baby shoes!” Lydia gasped as she pointed towards the large shoe section. She knew if there was one brand you couldn’t deny it was Louboutin’s.

After shopping for a while long your feet started hurting so you decided to get the rest of the stuff online. Derek, Peter and Stiles carried in all the bags containing designer clothes and shoes with proud smiles on their faces.

Peter had seen a princess hanging canopy that could go above the cot and insisted his little niece needed it even though you tried to deny it Peter bought it anyway. You sat down on the couch where Melissa and Chris were sat, letting out a loud sigh.

“Oh my god!” Erica screamed as she held up the Gucci floral dungarees and white curved collared shirt.

“It’s a girl!” She screamed as she fumbled through all the clothes with Melissa and Allison.

“Welcome back. How are my Queen and Princess doing today?” Scott cooed as he walked into the living area. You chuckled as you stroke your large stomach.

“Uncle Peter and Uncle Derek spent lots of money on you today didn’t they Princess.” You giggled softly, earning a kick from your little girl.

“I can see…” Scott sighed as he stared at all the designer bags.

“Hey, stop it.” You scolded as he frowned.

“I just wish I could buy her all this stuff…” Scott muttered as he looked through the bags.

“Baby, she doesn’t need Gucci clothes or Louboutin’s from you…She needs your love.” You chuckled softly as you leant down to leave a soft loving kiss on his lips. You pulled back with wide eyes and glanced at Derek.

“How much was this sofa?” You asked Derek with a worried frown.

“A lot.” He grumbled with a confused frown.

“You could totally afford another one, right?” You chuckled with a blush on your face.

“I mean yeah if I ne-Why?” His eyes narrowed as he scanned over you until he saw the wet patch on the sofa.

“Did your…” Derek’s eyes widened as he glanced at you in panic.

“What’s that smell?” Scott asked with a frown as the other wolves sniffed at the air.

“DID YOUR WATER JUST BREAK!?” Derek screamed clearly freaking out.

“MELISSA!!!!” Chris screamed as he started running around and grabbing the birthing bag you’d pack less than a week ago.

“What!?” Melissa yelled as she ran down the stairs.

“MY WATER JUST BROKE!?” You screamed, watching as her eyes widened.

Everyone was running around calling Deaton, making sure they didn’t forget anything as Scott sat there in shock, holding your hand. You threw your head back and let out a pained filled growl as you felt Scott’s hand breaking under your hold.

Not 10 minutes later, Deaton bust through the door, medical bag in hand and eyebrows raised in urgency. He instructed Scott to carry you to the bed, as he followed quickly. You wished you could go to a hospital but as Deaton had said a few months ago. You are likely to shift if you're in pain, so you couldn’t go to a hospital.

Suddenly Liam ran into the room with his dad following him. You stared at him like he’d gone crazy before Liam’s stepdad stared at you.

“I’m gonna have questions after this but right now we need to get this baby out safely!” Liam’s dad screamed before turning to Melissa.

“I need hot water and towels.” He ordered quickly before rolling up his sleeves.

“Scott, I need you to take a deep breath and focus. Deaton do you have the stuff I’d need to do this?” Liam’s dad asked as he nodded to Deaton medical bag.

“I have gloves and few bits and pieces in case we need to cut. She has supernatural healing and the wolves can take her pain that’s all you’ll need. Epidural won’t work on her.” Deaton stated as he checked your vitals.

“Got it. Scott and Liam that’s your job.” He instructed earning a serious nod from both boys.

Melissa ran in with towel while Derek followed in with a large bowl of hot water. Liam’s dad lifted up a pair of scissors and began cutting off your jeans knowing that right now it was urgent. Melissa threw a blanket over your bottom half to cover your dignity before bending your legs up and giving you a smile.

“Scott McCall, this is all your fault!” You screamed as you felt another contraction happening.

“She’s 9cms already!” Liam’s dad yelled as he glanced at Deaton with wide eyes.

“Her water only broke 25 minutes ago!” Melissa screamed as she dabbed the sweat off your forehead.

“Well apparently, this baby doesn’t care!” Liam’s dad yelled back as he looked at Scott and Liam with a nod.

“Derek I need you to take over a minute.” Scott groaned as he collapsed to the floor in pain.

“What’s wrong with your son, Melissa?” Liam’s dad sighed as he looked at Scott.

“Unlike most men, Doc, he’s actually feeling her pain. It’s a werewolf thing.” Melissa snorted as she let Chris take her son out the way.

“Derek Hale, this m-might be a bad time to ask and I-I’m not religious b-but I’d be happy if you’d be the godfather.” You stuttered softly as he and Liam took your pain.

“I’d be honoured Y/N but first let’s get you through this okay?” He muttered gently as he stroked your hair.

“Okay, I need you to push! SCOTT, GET IN HERE!” Liam’s dad yelled with urgency.

The pain was unreal, causing you to scream but Scott held in his scream of pain and chose to peck your temple. His hand running through your hair softly.

“Come on baby, you can do it.” He whispered, his breathing as heavy as yours.

“You know you can cut off the pain channelling. You don’t need to feel this too…” You whispered as you got a second to breathe.

“We’re in this together baby if you have to suffer to birth our baby girl, then so will I.” Scott stated with a dopey lopsided grin.

“I love you.” You stated before Liam’s dad told you to push again. Suddenly everything else disappeared as you heard a scream. You look up to see the Doctor holding your baby with a smile.

“Congratulations it’s a baby girl.” He stated before he turned to Melissa and asked her to cut the cord. Everyone crowded around the room and the bed, sniffling and cheering as they all welcomed the newest pack member.

At that moment you knew there was nothing you’d change your life for.

Part 7 <-

#teen wolf #tw #teen wolf imagine #imagine #reader #reader insert #scott mccall x reader #scott mccall x you #scott x you #scott x reader #fluff #labour #baby

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bioethicists · 21 days

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What’s your fave tsimmes? It’s cooked a lot of different ways so like what’s your preferred style is more what I mean? (I haven’t had it and I wanna try it bc it seems right up my alley but there’s so many different recipes that it’s overwhelming)

i like it quite sweet! i tailor it to my preferences (i love sweet potatoes + apricots, the carrots in this one are much less forward than they usually would be) the recipe i made last night was

3lbs sweet potatoes (half white, half yam, peeled + cubed)

1 bag dried cherries

1 bag dried apricots

7 carrots (peeled + cubed, this is just all we had haha)

like 20 prunes

2c chicken stock (i boil a kettle then mix in powdered stock but some ppl take this part much more seriously or use like schmaltz or smth)

2c orange juice

3oz honey

large scoop of generic mix of warm spices (cinnamon/cardamom/allspice/nutmeg- i have these premixed in my cabinet so idk ratios)

several sprigs of thyme

add everything except the prunes + only add half the liquid at first (so it goes up halfway to the veg, not submerging them). stack potatoes on bottom, then carrots, then dried fruit, lay thyme on top so it's easy to fish out. mix the honey in with the liquids ahead of time. slow boil, covered for 40 min, then add prunes + the rest of the liquid (DO NOT STIR, you can shake the pot a lil if u are worried abt sticking) + do another ~10 min (prunes will get yucky nasty if u add them at the beginning). fish out the thyme sprigs.

what i look for: a bit of liquid hanging around, ideally runny syrup texture (tbh u could add more honey or add brown sugar for this cuz i skimped on it due to The Neuroses) but mostly a root vegetable/fruit medley, sweet with a slightly savory undercurrent, potatoes hold together but fall apart when bitten

this is not a very traditional recipe + is primarily based on my preferences!

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onyourowndaisymae · 1 year

Text

obey me brothers as songs from noah kahan's "stick season"

i don't really have any excuse for writing this over the million other things i need to write, i just really fucking love this album i beg of you please listen to it so i have a void to scream in

content warnings: season 1 and 2 plot spoilers, discussions of death, minor nightbringer spoilers

Lucifer - Strawberry Wine

"strawberry wine, and all the time we used to have // those things i miss, but know are never comin' back // for you, darlin', for you //// no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft // and sentimental like a stranger in the park // for a few moments, i see you"

a soft song about grief centered around alcohol? so painfully lucifer

strawberry wine (as far as i'm aware-- and side note that all of these interpretations are semi-official and semi-speculation) is about losing someone you loved

makes me think of his grief surrounding lilith as her older brother. in nightbringer, he talks about how he used to laugh off her visits to the human world and how that was a mistake. every time he discusses her brings this sort of softness, this melancholic haze of regret and love.

that's what strawberry wine is to me. it's love and regret and pain all mixed together into a sense of yearning for something you know is long gone.

Mammon - Orange Juice

"honey, come over, the party's gone slower // and no one will tempt you, we know you got sober // there's orange juice in the kitchen, bought for the children // it's yours if you want it, we're just glad you could visit //// feels like i've been ready for you to come home for so long // that I didn't think to ask you where you'd gone // why'd you go?"

this song literally makes me scream

orange juice is about seeing someone again for the first time in awhile and finding out that they've changed and worked to better themselves in their absence-- all while you never noticed them struggling in the first place. it's pity and regret and sympathy and hope all mixed together into a mocktail of emotion that KILLS me.

mammon is a busy guy. something is constantly on his mind. s much as he loves the people around him, it wouldn't be that hard to hide your struggles from him.

it makes me write this fanfic in my head about mammon seeing a newly sober mc a few years after the exchange program and coming to terms with the fact that as much as he cares for them, he's not always been there for them in the way they need. i have a vision so clear in my head. maybe i'll write it someday

shoutout to the "are we all just crows to you now?" lyric that i can't listen to without thinking of mammon. the disappointment and earnesty in the way he says it makes me lose my MIND

Leviathan - Come Over

"i know that it ain't much, i know that it ain't cool // oh, you don't have to tell the other kids at school // my dad will strike it rich, we'll be the big house on the block // someday I'm gonna be somebody people want //// but I'm in the business of losing your interest // and I turn a profit each time that we speak // don't you know there's a coffin buried under the garden? // was there when we got here, will be there when we leave"

come over is a song about feeling so small and out of place, about yearning for something greater feeling foolish all the while. it's insecurity, knowing you're not what you want to be, but hoping that the person you hold so dear can look past the things about you that make you squirm.

this one is my roommate's fav song, btw, so i hope i do it justice.

i see levi here in the song's insecurity, in the almost apologetic tone for not being "enough". it's all yearning for someone you worry will be ashamed of you. the song practically shuts itself down before it even starts, and this to me reminds me of that envy that keeps itself coiled around levi when he interacts with mc or groups of his brothers

the lyric "the sad kid in the sad house on Balch Street", my mind immediately pictures levi, head ducked, avoiding the spotlight most of his other brothers embrace

Satan - Northern Attitude

"if I get too close // and I'm not how you hoped // forgive my northern attitude // oh, I was raised out in the cold //// if the sun don't rise // 'til the summertime // forgive my northern attitude // oh, I was raised on little light"

i feel so passionate about this one, i feel it in my BONES

if satan wasn't from hell i could absolutely see him as a northeastern sad boy from a rainy town

northern attitude is a song about being a fuckup from fucking nowhere. the chorus (quoted above) is a plea for the listener to forgive them of their social transgressions, of not being good enough to be around, because they weren't raised with warmth and love, but rather in the cold and the dark.

satan was never an angel, unlike his brothers. they had time to roam and grow up in the celestial realm, a land of light and virtue. satan's home is the devildom in all its dark, sinful glory. that place is all he as himself-- not as an extension of lucifer's memories-- knows.

satan is also well aware that he is the avatar of wrath and clearly that is off-putting to a lot of people. especially after meeting mc, this song to me is satan trying his damnedest to go against his nature as a reckless demon and be someone they can love

Asmodeus - She Calls Me Back

"if only i could wake you up // if only i could fall asleep // i'll love you when the ocean's dry // i'll love you when the rivers freeze //// does it bite at your edges? // do you lie awake restless? // why am i so obsessive? // hanging onto every sentence // this town's the same as you left it // your page is blank but i read it // i still dial 822-993-167"

i don't think asmo, at least aesthetically, fits into stick season very well. the whole album is very rainy and depressed, unlike him. but. there is one song that stands out to me sonically, just like the way asmo stands out from his brothers. hence why she calls me back and asmo are a good match

i like asmo most when solmare decides to acknowledge his depth as a character. one of those dimensions i think is very interesting is this sort of obsessive aspect to him where he needs everyone to like him and to always be perfect all the time. it's like he uses this perfectionism to generate enough love and praise to cover his insecurities.

the first and only person asmo loves as much (or more!) than himself is mc. noting that obsessive part of him, i think that everything they do sort of eats at asmo. he's never been in genuine love before, so i think that everything about loving mc feeds into this obsessiveness. like the popularity contest where he's fighting so hard against lucifer, where simeon eventually pointed out that people want to look good in front of those that they love? that. that is the feeling i'm getting at.

when the chorus gets to the "everything's alright when she calls me back", that reads as the relief. asmo won't worry about what mc thinks or if they like someone better in those moments because there, above everything, is the feeling of love he has from just being around them.

Beelzebub - Everywhere, Everything

"would we survive in a horror movie? // i doubt it, we're too slow moving // we trust everyone we meet //// two bodies riddled with scars from our preteens // intertwine in a car's dirty backseat // stare at a drive-in screen //// we didn't know that the sun was collapsing // 'til the seas rose and the buildings came crashing // we cried, 'oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh'"

everywhere, everything is a song about wanting to stick by someone that you've grown up and grown together with through the end of the world-- or the end of yours, specifically.

beel comes off to me as SUCH a family person. i'm sure that's canon too, i just can't think of anything specific to quote atm.

this song to me seems like a reflection on the journey of the past as it mirrors the journey ahead. to me, with beelzebub, his previous life in the celestial realm came crumbling after the great celestial war-- yet he came out the other side with (most of) his loved ones to stay by his side.

i think he's willing to follow the twists and turns of fate to jostle him around, take what they need from him, so long as he gets to keep his remaining family.

when mc comes around, i think they're immediately woven into that same protective field of his. he'll go through hell and back again as long as they come out the other side with him.

Belphegor - The View Between Villages

"passed alger brook road, i'm over the bridge // a minute from home but I feel so far from it // the death of my dog, the stretch of my skin // it's all washin' over me, i'm angry again //// the things that i lost here, the people i knew // they got me surrounded for a mile or two // the car's in reverse, i'm grippin' the wheel // i'm back between villages and everything's still"

this is, unquestionably, my favorite song on the album. by a lot. it just means so much to me. the extended version WILL kill me this summer.

the view between villages starts slowly with an acknowledgement of growth while painting a picture of a slow drive through the backroads home. it's all peace and love, all growth.

then the second half of the song kicks in (quoted above) and it just hits you like a sledgehammer, picking up intensity until the final line where the world stills again. it is so, so good. the latter half is the feeling of being back home and being mobbed by your ghosts, of realizing that maybe you can't just up and walk away from your traumas like you thought you could.

to me, this feels like belphegor's experience in lesson 16. when confronted with the truth about lilith's death, all of the pain and anger and fear rushes back to him, and he just... breaks down. the swell of the music mimics that rush of emotion as it overwhelms you past your breaking point. it's the influx of righteous anger at your loss, the pain of yesterday finding its home back inside you. it's bitterness and anger and pain melding with the person you've grown to be. it's a new beast entirely.

god this is such a good fucking song

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