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#just one fork huh I c I c
kissitbttr · 4 months
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flashing simon your titties in the middle of an argument
it’s the fourth time this week and he’s pretty much getting sick of your attitude.
whether it’s about the messy drawers, forgotten keys, not getting your fresh strawberries from the market and now, it’s about the new female recruit that seems to be enjoying flirting with your boyfriend and him not doing anything about it. of course you’re pissed! you’re allowed to.
“sweetheart” simon huffs out a sigh of annoyance, rubbing his hands all over his tired face. “for the fifth time… i wasn’t flirting with her”
a scoff escape your mouth. cocking one eyebrow while your arms are crossed over your chest. “i didn’t say you were. i said that bitch had her hands all over you and you didn’t do anything! she was batting her fake ass lashes at you too. jesus, her ass should got beat for that”
the sight of you getting pretty heated almost turned him on. almost. sure, you’re hot when you’re angry and usually he’d fuck you dumb to get that out of your system but this time? he’s far too exhausted.
“fuckin’ hell” he shakes his head in disbelief. “you know that’s not what happened. we were just talking.”
“i know what i saw-“
“don’t give me that!” simon exclaims, pointing his finger at you as he watches you give him a look of ‘oh you did not just do that’. “we were basically just talking, she was the new recruit. asking me about pointers.. and it was at the gala! what did you expect me to do?!”
you shrug casually, leaning against the kitchen counter. “poke her eyes with a fork”
“my god-“ he has to cut himself off before releasing a heavy sigh. eyes shutting briefly, head tilts to the back as he silently prays to whoever up there to give him enough strength to deal with you. “that would be illegal.”
“for you, maybe. i’d do it if you weren’t in my way.”
“that’s crazy” he answers, earning a look from you. “i didn’t say you are crazy! christ, woman!”
rolling your eyes, you huff. maybe you are overreacting but the thing is? you don’t want him to win. because in your head, you’re always right.
“so, what? you’re just going to let other female recruits feel you up too, huh? grab your biceps, twirl their hair when they look at you or maybe hey! you’d let them grab your dick too.”
“you’re unbelievable”
“me?! you are—“
“no! okay, you know what?! doll, i love you... i do so please never doubt me, yeah? but you can’t keep doing this, alright?! it’s not healthy! and if you—w-wait, what are you doing? wha-“
you lift your shirt up to flash him your naked breasts so he can shut up. and it worked. obviously. now, his eyes aren’t even looking at you but at his second favorite thing—after you— your lips stretch into a smirk when you see him freeze. jaw hanging open slightly.
“a-and you c-can’t” he gulps, becoming a stuttering mess as he struggles to maintain an eye contact. “c-can’t—like—just—fuck! this is unfair! what was i saying?!”
oh yeah, now you’re taking the W
-
did this once with my ex and got fucked lol
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beansprean · 6 months
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frog tweet redraws!!!
(ID in alt and under cut, tweets under cut)
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ID: 1. Nursey, wearing a gray peacoat, and Dex, wearing a brown canvas jacket and a backpack, are walking side by side when two samwell students, one a white girl with a brown ponytail and red sweater and the other a brown boy in a black hoodie, rush up to Nursey surrounded by hearts. The girl asks, "Is that you on the back of the fall schedule?" The boy adds, "We like, need to know!" Nursey grins at them, flattered, and presses a hand to his cheek as he replies "Oh? Yeah, that's me." Dex scowls and rolls his eyes so hard it looks painful, sighing, "Oh god."
2a. Nursey, wearing a yellow puff vest over a long sleeve purple shirt, sitting next to Dex, who is wearing a blue button down over a tee shirt. Nursey grins and nudged Dex with his elbow, asking, "Guess how many cards I got today, Poindexter." Dex, mouth full of pie and another bite poised on his fork, sighs heavily and glares away into the distance, replying after a long pause, "Like 20." 2b. Repeat. Nursey pulls up his hands, one holding out five fingers and the other holding up three, and looks down at them as if checking his count. He says, "Eight. One was from my mom." Dex startles and hunches up, trying to stifle a loud snort of laughter. A chunk of pie flies out of his mouth.
3a. Nursey and Chowder standing side by side in the kitchen, Nursey holding a bowl of filling and Chowder chopping something on the counter offscreen. He is not looking at his hands, but off to the right, where text indicates a Falconers game is playing. Dex is in the background, holding a fresh pie with oven mitts, and calls out, "Hey Chow, pay attention! 3b. Repeat. Chowder says "Huh?" and looks down to his hands just as the knife slips and sends a spurt of blood upward into frame. Dex and Nursey startle, eyes bugging out in shock. Nursey goes visibly gray and drops the bowl he was holding. 3c. Repeat. Nursey slips offscreen completely, fainting. Dex smirks at him and lets out a little "heh" laugh. Chowder looks down at him in concern, pressing a washcloth to his bloody finger. 3d. Later, Nursey sitting on the gross Haus couch with a glass of water, Dex standing next to him with his arms crossed. Dex smirks down at him and teases, "You fainted a little there, huh?" Nursey looks up at him, stern but clearly embarrassed, and says "Chill, that was a lot of blood." Dex pushes, "Boy, you were pale!" Nursey replies blankly, "...Poindexter."
4. Screenshot of a series of tweets by Eric Bittle. a. Nursey: Guess how many cards I got today, Poindexter? Dex: [a long sigh] Dex: like 20. Nursey: Eight. One was from my mom. b. Ah, Dex tried to hide that laugh but there's pie everywhere. c. 15 minutes ago. Chowder: I was paying attention to the Falconers game and I think I cut my finger? Dex: I think Nursey just fainted. Dex: Heh. d. Dex: You fainted a little there, huh? Nursey: Chill that was a lot of blood. Dex: Boy, you were pale! Nursey: ...Poindexter. e. -Nursey Fans- Girl: Is that you on the back of the fall schedule? Boy: We like NEED to know. Nursey: Oh? Yeah that's me. Dex: Oh GOD. /end ID
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soupandsimple · 8 months
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this video is very much not at all like what I wrote but it was used as the inspo for James and daughter 😌
* James’s reaction to his 3 year old daughter telling him she has a boyfriend (SPOILER ALERT; it’s just a boy who’s her friend)
* see request here
………………
Your daughter started daycare at the beginning of this week. Coincidentally also this week, James had been coming home late from work meaning he missed seeing and talking to her before she got into bed (besides the quick goodnight kiss he did always manage to make it in time for with a little slip into her bedroom just as you’d finish tucking her in). But since today was Friday, you let her stay up a little later to see and be with him for awhile.
It’s a little before eight when he gets home and the smile on his face when he sees his little girl is still up and about is a special one. After greeting you both, you let him get changed then serve him his dinner plate and set out a bowl of raspberries for your daughter to snack on to keep James company at the table.
“M’daddy guess what,” your daughter speaks as you help her climb up on the cushiony booster seat in her chair.
“What doll?” James replies promptly, hungrily gathering some food on his fork.
“I have a boyfend.”
The forkful of food is just centimeters away from James’s open mouth but all his movements freeze in that second.
Arching your brows, you smile to yourself as you go to the kitchen area to put away some dishes that had been sitting in the drying rack.
“Excuse me? Can you repeat that?” James urges, voice full of hope that he had heard wrong.
“I have a boyfend!” your daughter repeats happily, popping a berry into her little mouth.
“Oh n-n-n-no,” James says, setting down his fork with a forced chuckle of disbelief, “you are three years old, you cannot have a boyfriend at three years old.”
“Uh-huh I do, hims names Matthew!”
“Matthew?”
“Yes! He’s pwetty!” she claims with a big ol’ smile.
“Hey, hey, hey missy, this isn’t girl talk hour. I don’t care how pretty this Matthew kid is, you are not supposed to have a boyfriend!”
“Him hold my hand” she adds, blissfully ignoring everything James had just said. “And him gives me grapes and him sits by me on the listening carpet.”
“Oh no baby, no” he mumbles as he hits his hands against his face, shaking his head. “C’mon, that’s bare minimum!” he says, sliding his hands back off his face. “And he didn’t even give it time, it’s been what? One week? Don’t tell me he became your boyfriend on the first day of class?!”
Very much not interested in the conversation anymore, your daughter nonchalantly nods as she munches down on another berry and intriguingly observes how the juice from it spills to her hands.
“Wha- are you hearing this?” James astonishingly asks you, whipping his head over in your direction.
“Yes I’m listening. Are you?” you tease as you continue putting away dishes.
Now, the reason you weren’t reacting to your daughter’s claims was because earlier that week at one of the pickups, your daughter had joyfully ran up to you at the door upon arrival and announced to you that she had a boyfriend! After telling you all about the hand holding, fruit sharing and carpet sitting with Matthew, the daycare teacher monitoring the pickups cleared it all up for you.
For starters, the hand holding was only allowed when they walked from building A to building C for gym class and since your daughter and Matthew were next to each other alphabetically on the class sheet, they were paired together for that. Same went for the listening carpet where they were sat in an alphabetical order seating chart. As for the fruit sharing, it was something this Mathew kid did with any and all of his classmates apparently.
So did your daughter have a boy friend ? Yes.
A boyfriend ? No.
The fact that James automatically heard the term boy-friend and paired it with the amorous meaning was no one’s fault but his own. You’d explain it all to him later of course but for now, it was fun seeing him helpless while your daughter remained oblivious and frankly unbothered as to why her dad was freaking out over her having a boy as a friend. <3
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— good little girl
pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader
request: anonymous
warnings: angsty with fluffy ending
summary: a small (lovers') quarrel between you and wednesday leaves you sour for the whole day, but you just can't stay away from her for too long
word count: 2.2k
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A grunt came from Enid’s left where the blonde was sitting at her usual place in the back of the herbology class, and the werewolf turned to look at her desk neighbor, expecting to see Yoko with her usual morning person frown. There was a frown, but instead of her vampire friend it grazed the face of (Y/n). Her demon friend.
Her brows were furrowed, and, without sparing a single glance at the blonde, she took her books out, throwing her bag down at her feet before folding her hands on her chest with a huff. Enid could swear a small puff of smoke escaped the fuming oni’s nose.
“Good... morning?” The blonde girl tested with a nervous smile, leaning back in her seat to take a look around the class. Her gaze landed on the back of the head of a small ravenette sitting next to Xavier, her posture perfectly straight as she wrote something down in her textbook, completely ignoring the artist’s poor attempts at striking a conversation with her.
(Y/n) never sat with anyone but Wednesday. Ever.
“Mhm,” the demon hummed in reply, putting her elbow on the desk to support her chin by her clawed palm, “Better for some than others.”
“Did... something happen between you two?”
“We had a fight,” (Y/n) mumbled grumpily, her top lip rising over her tusks as she spoke with distaste and resentment, obviously angry.
“A fight? With Wednesday? How are you still alive and in one piece then, huh?” Enid joked, quickly ducking her head into her shoulders at the piercing glare the oni girl sent her way, “Okay, yeah, too soon,” she gulped, watching (Y/n) roll her eyes and turn her head away to stare at the board, then scooched closer to bump her shoulder against the other girl’s, “C’mon. No wrath – wallowing, remember? Talk to me. What was it about?”
There was grumpy reluctance on the (h/c) – haired demon’s face, but she knew better than to resist Enid’s best intentions, “She missed our movie night yesterday. Was out in the forest, as I later found out. Alone,” she growled under her breath, “I was worried. But she told me there was no need to be because she could ‘fend for herself’, and that I was being too overprotective. I keep telling her she doesn’t have to do shit alone, but her stubbornness has me losing sleep.”
Enid nodded, watching as (Y/n)’s downcast gaze shifted from irritation to dejection, “We should’ve talked it out, but I got very angry. I know I shouldn’t have, but I can’t control it,” she turned to Enid, voice suddenly quiet, “Am I too obsessive? Too violent?”
“No, dummy, you aren’t. You’ve got your own screws lose, as we all do, and you’re working on them,” the werewolf assured softly, looping her arm over (Y/n)’s free elbow to comfort the sad demon, “It’s okay to fight. It’s healthy. And, well, you know Wednesday – most social constructs are lost on her. It’ll be fine. You just need to cool off.”
The oni girl sighed, picking a pencil to twirl it with her clawed hand absent – mindedly, not in the mood to keep the conversation up anymore.
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Enid was hoping the situation would get better a few classes in. But it didn’t.
The blonde sighed as she watched Wednesday take a sit next to her at lunch, silently placing her tray on the table. Taking a single glance over the small ravenette’s shoulder, Enid groaned – the oni demon was sitting a few tables away, head hung as she sulked over her meal, angrily picking at it with her fork.
“God, you two are still not over this?” The werewolf girl spoke through the chunk of steak she was chomping on, exasperated, turning to watch Wednesday cut her stuffed sweet potato and put a piece in her mouth, not saying a word, “Wednesday.”
“Don’t speak with your mouth full.” The girl deadpanned, her attention still fully focused on her food.
“I can’t believe it. You are, like, constantly inseparable! How can you let such a petty argument get in the way?” Enid exclaimed, swallowing the meat, “Wednesday. You love (Y/n). You can’t just keep ignoring her, it’s extremely childish.”
Wednesday’s back straightened at the accusation, “It’s what she herself chose to do, too.”
“(Y/n)’s a hot – headed dumbass. I bet she’s afraid she’d lash out at you again, too. You really need to talk. You balance each other out perfectly, there’s no way you won’t figure things out.”
Wednesday didn’t answer, making Enid’s shoulders sag, and the blonde turned back to her plate.
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“Have you ever been smacked upside the head to unconsciousness, (Y/n)?” Enid asked, a fake tight – lipped smile on her face.
Narrowing her eyes, the demon looked the suspiciously cheery werewolf over, “...No?” She answered, uncertain of where such a question was coming from.
“Would you like me to be the first?”
(Y/n) shuddered, raising her palms in surrender, a water bottle in one of her hands, “Not really.”
“Then why the hell are the two of you still apart?” The blonde girl exclaimed, pointing at Wednesday who was sitting at the bench on the other side of the football field, gaze empty as she watched the rest of her fellow classmates run laps around the perimeter.
The oni’s eyes followed Enid’s hand, then she scoffed, unscrewing the cap and taking a few big, unnecessarily aggressive gulps of the liquid, some droplets trickling down her throat and wetting her jersey shirt, before tossing the bottle to the werewolf, “Because Addams never does anything wrong.”
“Stop being so salty,” Enid rolled her eyes, taking a sip and screwing the cap back on, “You know how Wednesday is. Better than anyone else, actually. And don’t think I can’t see you moping, I know you miss her.”
(Y/n) sighed, her gaze landing back on the small ravenette. She watched as the girl read, a pale hand turning the pages of the book in her lap, and a nauseating feeling of longing washed over the demon.
She did miss Wednesday. She missed her engrossed murderous rants, her critiquing comments and the small gentle displays of affection that were so seldom but oh so welcome: entwining her pinky with the oni’s, sitting closer to each other in class so their shoulders would subtly touch, dozing off with (Y/n)’s head on Wednesday’s lap during breaks.
But did Wednesday miss her? She couldn't really tell - there was the usual small frown on her dark lips, and (Y/n) could see her brows knit under her fringe, but nothing out of ordinary grazed the face of the black - haired girl.
The more (Y/n) stared at Wednesday, the more she realised how badly she wanted to be close to her.
The ravenette looked up suddenly, her grey eyes meeting the demon’s, and (Y/n) turned her head away.
“Think I’m gonna do some more extra laps.” The demon murmured lowly, raising her hands to tighten her ponytail before standing up from the bench, starting off and away from her annoyed werewolf friend.
But she knew she couldn’t run from the heaviness in her chest anymore.
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It was late in the evening as (Y/n) walked up the stairs of Ophelia Hall, her steps echoing around the building – most of the Nevermore students were already resting in their rooms, providing silence and tranquility to the usually busy school. But the demon felt far from calm, anxiety pooling inside her heart like water in a boiling whistling kettle.
It wasn’t about resentment, anger or her precious fragile pride anymore – she needed to make up with Wednesday. Neither did she care who was in the right, or what the argument was even about. She missed the girl terribly.
She could only hope she won't be turned away.
Coming up to stand in front of the door, the demon took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the confrontation she was so desperately trying to avoid the whole day. Finally gathering up all her courage, she raised her fist – delivering three loud knocks to the wooden surface, the girl listened. But no sound came from the other side. Feeling bold, (Y/n) turned the handle, surprisingly finding the door open, and let herself in.
The lights in the room were dimly lit, the only lamp working being on Wednesday’s side, as the other resident of the dorm was absent. It smelt very pleasantly inside – an incense stick was burning on the ravenette’s desk, perched on a skull – shaped glass stand, letting the fragrance of sandalwood float around in thin trails of smoke.
The gloomy girl herself stood in front of her closet, sorting and putting clean clothes and laundry in neat piles. She was wearing a black oversized hoodie, big over her shoulders and covering the middle of her thighs, and her feet were clad in matching fuzzy socks. (Y/n) could feel her heart melt – the small ravenette looked so warm and cozy, the demon wanted nothing more than to embrace her tightly and never let go.
But it could wait. She needed to make things right first.
Wednesday didn’t turn at the sound of the creaking door, nor did she turn to acknowledge whoever came inside, fully dedicated to her aim of ignoring the (h/c) – haired oni. She knew it was her coming, of course – she learned the way her footsteps sounded in the halls, their heaviness, the pattern of her knocking. (Y/n)’s presence was unlike any other, too.
“Hey. The door was unlocked.”
Unsurprisingly, Wednesday didn’t reply, and (Y/n) sighed, but chose to keep talking.
“Look, about yesterday... I’m sorry. The way I acted was... not what you deserve. No matter the reason. I’m sorry I got angry. It’s something I’m working on.”
No reply came. The ravenette continued rummaging around her closet, completely ignoring the other girl.
The demon huffed, walking up to Wednesday whose back was still turned to her, and in a slow, slightly unsure movement, she snaked her arms around her waist. Wednesday gave a barely noticeable start, but ultimately didn’t resist, and the oni took it as a green light, locking her hands around the ravenette’s hoodie – clad middle and giving a gentle loving squeeze.
A small grin made its way onto the demon’s toothy mouth. Lightly clearing her throat, she leaned into Wednesday’s shoulder, bending over to settle her chin on top of it snuggly.
“Good little girl,” she started to sing in a voice barely above a whisper, her breath tickling Wednesday’s neck, “Always picking a fight with me. You know that I’m bad,” (Y/n) couldn’t stop a soft chuckle in-between the lyrics, “But you’re spending the night with me...”
Wednesday turned around in the oni’s hold, gently, without breaking it, her eyes trailing up to (Y/n)’s slitted ones as the demon girl’s voice gently drifted through the otherwise silent room.
“What do you want from my world? You’re a good little girl...”
Wednesday’s gaze was unreadable – she watched the other girl’s face silently, prompting her to continue.
“Don't you know I'm a villain? Every night I'm out killing, sending everyone running like children,” (Y/n) murmured with a tusked grin, making Wednesday roll her eyes, “I know why you're mad at me. I've got demon eyes, and they're looking right through your anatomy,” adoration glinted in the (e/c) cat – like irises, “Into your deepest fears, baby.”
The smaller girl moved her hands up (Y/n)'s shoulders, and the demon rested her own on Wednesday’s waist, pulling her closer.
“I'm not from here. I'm from the Nightosphere. To me, you're clear,” she leaned closer to Wednesday, pressing her forehead against the other girl’s as she murmured in a mockingly conspiratorial tone, “transparent. You got a thing for me, girl, it's apparent.”
The ravenette huffed a soft laugh through her nose, a small smile finally appearing on her face, the girl unable to resist the demon’s charm.
“You’re so corny.” She scolded half – heartedly.
The grin on (Y/n)’s face turned cocky, “You know you love it.”
“Unfortunately.”
The two young women swayed for a while, enjoying each other’s presence, finally content.
“I have to apologize, too. For... disregarding your concern for me and taking it for granted. I’m sorry.” Wednesday said, pulling away to look at her demon lover.
“I forgive you. I know I can’t expect you to suddenly get used to certain changes I brought into your life. That’s what I’m here for. To guide you. There are some things the great Wednesday Addams doesn’t understand completely yet, as super intelligent as she is.” The oni girl noted jokingly, making Wednesday purse her lips in a half – hearted frown.
“I can’t tell if this is bullying or you trying to make a compliment,” she said, her palms reaching up to (Y/n)’s face, thumbs tracing her cheekbones gently – she was surprised at how much she had missed the demon’s features, “Also, good little girl? Is that really how you see me?”
“No, ma’am, not at all,” (Y/n) shook her head with a quiet giggle, mischievousness shining in her slitted eyes, “Little, maybe, but– “
“Stop talking.”
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kl4us4 · 2 years
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MR. RAGER (eddie munson x f!reader)
you wanna be one of them, yeah, you wanna be one of them.
or, in which, Eddie's desire to fit in has never resurfaced as much as it does while watching you gain attention from the popular crowd. things get messy when Jason targets Eddie, yet again.
warnings: bullying, witnessing a physical fight/violence.
There’s never been such longing in someone’s eyes before. You feel as though his big, brown eyes are drilling into your back, making your spine shiver. With every passing second, you feel another inch of him digging into you. The longer Jason and his friends linger around your table, the more you want to turn and meet Eddie’s gaze.
“I dunno,” Lucas mumbles sheepishly, “I mean, Mrs D’s class is kinda tough, she moves way too fast.”
You give him a nod of acknowledgment, looking up from your notes, “Right!”
Eddie watches your smile, the way it literally brightens the room and, at the same time, makes his face contort with jealousy. It isn’t just that though, he can’t pinpoint it. It’s jealousy but it’s not because you’re smiling at Lucas - he knows you’re friends with all the kids in Hellfire due to your friendship with Harrington and Buckley - it’s just… it’s because it’s you smiling because you fit in. That was just it. You fit in.
“Mrs D’s class?” Jason barks out a laugh, throwing his head back and exposing his sharp, white teeth; as if a hyena emerging from a hunger filled slumber, “A seventh grader could pass her class, come on!”
You notice Lucas’s face scrunch for a moment before he just laughs it off, watching Jason roll his eyes at him. It sends a pant of guilt to your heart - Lucas, trying to brush off being ridiculed by someone who was meant to be his friend.
Trying to hide your frown, you just give Jason a shrug, “No, Lucas is right. It’s like she wants everyone to fail.”
Chrissy nods her head in agreement, pointing a fork in the air, “She’s definitely not the greatest.”
“Please,” Jason grins widely, leaning his back against the table as he folds his arms, “the only person who’s dumb enough to fail her class, again and again, is The Freak.”
A frown grows on your face. You should be used to people talking shit about him - but Jason brings him into conversation so needlessly. And you’ve never heard someone speak about him behind his back. You weren’t naive, you knew they did it, you just never thought you’d have to endure it without Eddie by your side. He would always make a joke or sly comment, he’d always bounce back from it better than you ever could - and the comment wasn’t even about you.
“I know,” Jason remarks, seeing your disgusted expression before he turns to the Hellfire table, “At least we’re not as brain-dead as him, huh?”
Eddie doesn’t tear his eyes away, having heard his accepted ‘nickname’ being thrown around from a few metres away. He doesn’t move an inch, not even as his friends continue talking their utter nonsense about Vecna and Kas right in front of him.
Jason straightens up when he meets Eddie’s eyes, immediately on guard for an altercation. You wonder if he tenses from fear or anticipation and you’re not sure which is worse.
“What’re you looking at, Freak?” Jason exclaims, lifting off of the table. You swallow the lump in your throat, the hairs on the back of your neck beginning to rise in fear.
“Oh, c-c’mon man,” Lucas mutters awkwardly, his dark eyes flicking between Jason and his friends at the table in the distance.
Carvers voice gains the attention of the Hellfire Club, who send hateful glares towards your table. You lock tense eyes with Dustin and Mike, who watch you in confusion. They don’t know about you and Eddie, but they know you’re meant to be their friend-slash-babysitter. When you meet Eddie’s eyes, just for a second of a moment, you can tell he doesn’t want to hold back anymore. He looks so fed up. But he sees your wide, frightful and apologetic gaze, and he casts his eyes to the centre of his table, teeth gritting together.
“Yeah,” Jason mumbles, grinning at the older kid, “That’s what I thought, trailer-park trash! Go cry about it to your alcoholic Uncle.” Jason turns around, grinning to his squad of jocks who surround the table.
The screech of Eddie’s chair against the ground as he rises to his feet makes you grimace as your teeth grit together. It happened to quickly, you barely made it out of your seat as Eddie grabbed Jason’s tidy, ironed collar and pulled the shorter boy towards him.
“Say that shit again!” Eddie shouts in his face, staring down wildly, “Say it again, I dare you!”
Andy grips Eddie’s shoulders, his hands tugging him by his denim vest before tearing him away.
“Stop!” You scream, pushing past the students who had begun to crowd around as Andy and Chance stand on either side of Eddie, holding him in place, “Stop it!”
Someone pushes you back before you can reach the inner circle. You hear Jason’s first punch land and Eddie lets out a grunt, keening over. Two hands are on your shoulders and you look up.
“Y/N!” Chrissy exclaims, staring down at you with wide, terrified eyes, “Oh, God! Are you okay?”
She helps you stand and you shove past the crowd or students. “Eddie!” Dustin shouts, held back by Mike as he tries to wrestle his way to the older kids.
Before Jason can land a third punch to Eddie’s face, shove Chance off of him. Andy, in confusion and somewhat shock, lets go of Eddie. He crumples to the floor, one hand immediately going to his tender stomach. That first punch landed the hardest, he’s gotta admit that. It was right in the kidneys, completely knocking the air and sense out of him.
Lips parted and eyes wide, you look at Jason, “Are you insane?”
“Didn’t know you had a soft spot for junkies,” Jason laughs before looking down at his red knuckles, “c’mon, don’t be so goddamn dramatic, Y/N.”
Eddie lets out a shallow grunt, riding to his unsteady feet. You turn to help. When you place a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, you can’t help the breath that catches in your throat when he flinches away from you. You take your hand off him, watching as he looks up at you, head angled towards the ground, “Eddie-”
“Don’t touch me,” Eddie’s voice is like venom - you don’t even realise it’s menacing and deadly until a few seconds too late.
“Wow,” Jason mewls, watching the interaction, “really living up to that Munson name, aren’t you?”
It takes you a moment to full hear what Eddie said. Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me? Pressing your lips together, you stand to your full height and, like you’ve practiced too many times before, you pretend you don’t care about Eddie Munson. Gareth rises towards Eddie, his eyes always flicking towards the jocks still surrounding the scene. Jeff steps in, hesitantly helping Eddie to his feet. Eddie doesn’t even look at you as they lead him to the Hellfire table, just as the principle comes in shouting and ordering students around. But the bell rings, signalling the end of lunch, and almost everyone disperses.
“Y/N,” Chrissy calls from behind you, collecting your things for you, “c’mon, let’s… let’s go.”
Watching as Eddie walks out of the cafeteria, black bandana held against his bloody nose, you bite the inner corner of your cheek. He doesn’t spare a glance at you. Chrissy hands you your bag, now packed with all your things and you stare at it for a second before taking your bag and rushing outside of the cafeteria, outside the entire school, and heading in the direction of your house.
You weren’t sure if you should call him. It didn’t seem like it. Didn’t seem like he wanted you to, judging from your interaction. Eddie had never looked at you like that. You can’t get the image from your head, his bleeding nose and pained face, staring directly at you as he told you not to touch him. He even flinched away from your hand. Eddie had never done that before.
It’s late. You’re just about to turn your lamp off when a knock comes from your window. Shutting your eyes, you freeze, already knowing who it is. When you turn, you can see Eddie perched on the roof below your window. Letting out a sigh, you rise from your bed to unlock and slide it open. You don’t say anything as you look down at him, meeting his sunken eyes.
“It's late,” you mutter nervously, the lamp from your bedroom illuminating the light bruise on his nose, "are you okay?"
"Fine," he just nods absentmindedly, before rushing out his question, “why’d you get involved?”
“What?” You narrow your eyes at him, wondering if he’s seriously asking such a stupid, obvious question.
“It was really stupid of you,” he adds seriously, “stepping into a fight like that - everyone there was ten times bigger than you.”
“Did you come here just to hurt me?” You ask plainly, “You already did enough of that today.”
Eddie looks at the window sill, hiding the guilt in his gaze, expression totally unreadable and plain, “Can I come in?”
You open the window wider, stepping aside and watching as he slowly climbs into your room. You don’t say anything. There’s this really heavy tension that’s settled between the two of you and you don’t know how or why it got there.
“Parents home?” He wonders quietly, looking around at the silent home. He knows they’re not. They rarely are.
You get to the point because you’ve never been a fan of dancing around anything, “I got involved because they would’ve beaten you until you couldn’t remember your own name. Why’d you push me away?”
Eddie watches as you stare up at him, eyes already glossy as you examine his bruising face. His lips part for a moment and he licks them, “I don’t know.”
“Eddie,” you mumble, staring at him and waiting.
“I didn’t… People were staring at us, I…” He just shakes his head, eyes darting to yours to gauge if you understand his stuttered words.
“You didn’t want people to find out about us,” you finish his sentence for him, giving him an emotionless nod, “you were being beaten in front of me and-and you’d rather just… endure it than have anyone know you’re dating me.”
“No, just... let me find the words,” Eddie’s eyebrows pinch together and he lingers by your window, as if at any moment you’ll tell him to leave and, honestly, you might, “people were staring at me like... like I was crazy for standing up for myself - like even though I got the shit beaten out of me, somehow it was my fault." He lets out a humourless laugh, shaking his head gently, "I don't know... I just - then I saw you and I-I don't want people to look at you like they look at me; like a freak."
"I don't care what people think about you, you know that," you remind him.
"You should," he refutes simply, "Y/N, I still think it’s… better for you; for no one to know. You know, I… I get shit from everyone, yeah, but I’m used to it. I can handle it.”
You frown at him, “You don’t think I can?”
Eddie looks at you, noticing your red cheeks and glossy eyes. “No,” he answers truthfully, “and I don’t ever want you to. You fit in with them - Chrissy and the cheer squad and all that, they’re your friends. I don’t want you to lose that over me, you don’t deserve that. You deserve to enjoy your last year without me ruining it. So, no, I don’t… I don’t think you really know what it’d mean to be seen with me.”
“You’re aware that I’m capable of making decisions for myself,” you stare at him, eyes borderline glaring at him, “right?”
“Yeah, I know,” he breathes out a sigh, his eyes roaming up and down you.
"Also, you don't ruin anything for me, ever - so, don't say that," you glare at him, shaking your head at his idiocy.
Eddie lets out a light chuckle at your expression but gives you a knowing nod, "Yeah, well, either way - I gotta stand my ground on this one, sweetheart. I just... I want you to be safe."
"I'm safe with you," you tell him openly, pressing a hand against his cold cheek, "always."
"You wouldn't be if they knew," he responds, trying so hard not to let his instincts overcome him by leaning into your warm touch, "they'd make your life hell. You shouldn't have to worry about the shit that I worry about, you know? I... Jesus Christ, this is gonna be embarrassing but... I used to want to be one of them, you know?"
You squint your eyes at him, tilting your head as you give him a smirk, "You? Metalhead Munson?"
A smile breaks through his demeanour and he squeezes your hip gently, giving you a fond look, "Yeah, when I was a kid - like 13, 14 - I used to want nothing but to fit in. I never felt like that again 'til today."
He watches your expression fall and you frown at him, "I'm sorry, Eddie."
"Not your fault, pretty baby," he hums, trying to lighten the mood as he leans forward to brush his nose against yours, "just want you to be okay because I know what it's like not to be." He finishes. You gaze up at him, a small pout on your lips. "Don't look at me like that," he hums out a whisper.
"I just love you," you admit honestly, stroking your thumb against his cheek which has become warmer the longer he's stayed inside of your room, "I love you so much."
Eddie grins, one of those charming, dimple-y, unadulterated smiles that makes you stare at him fondly. “I love you too, sweetheart,” he mumbles tenderly, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours, “always."
“Always,” you respond to him, pushing your lips to his. His soft lips move against yours tenderly while his hands fall down to your hips. The kiss feels like it always does - bubbly, familiar, loving - but it makes it even more comforting to know you’ll be kissing these perfect lips for as long as the universe allows you.
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upon-a-starry-night · 10 months
Text
Number Neighbors Pt.3
Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader
Natasha masterlist     Series Masterlist
Pt2
Word Count: 1k
Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?
~
You and Nat began texting regularly back and forth every day, despite her initial hesitance to talk to a stranger it seemed like maybe she was beginning to open up to you, and it was safe to say she was on your mind 24/7- which after one too many glasses of wine and rom-coms lead you to pick up your phone and send her a text you were far too drunk to think over
               Nat🔪
Y/n🍦:
Heyyy segg-c ;)
The response wasn’t immediate although you could see she had viewed your message, you pouted at her lack of reply and sloppily typed out another message. You were relying solely on auto-correct to convey your emotions
Y/n🍦:
Don’t ignore m3 :(
Nat🔪:
Sorry-
What’s up?
Y/n🍦:
I’m lonely
How cme no one un New York wants to date me?
Nat🔪: 
Maybe because people in New York suck?
Y/n🍦:
I want to agree but technically I live in New York 
which means your saying that I suck
Nat🔪: 
You're*
And I mean
-If the shoe fits
Y/n🍦: 
Shhh my brain can’t think grammar right now
>:0 
Currently sobbing and not because of the Rom-coms
Nat🔪:
I’m kidding
You only wear Duck socks anyway
Y/n🍦: 
Stalker! 
How did you know I was wearing them?
Nat🔪: 
Well last time you were watching TV you were wearing them
I just guessed
Y/n🍦: 
I don’t believe you
I knew you were an FBI agent!
Nat🔪:
You got me.
Surprise
Y/n🍦:
 wait really?!
Nat🔪: 
Yep, I’m actually right outside your window
You, being in the drunken excited state that you were in, immediately dropped your phone on the couch and ran to the window, searching for signs of anyone but the local crackhead on the streets. Much to your dismay, no one was there
Meanwhile, Nat was silently praising herself for getting you to believe her story, but it was obvious you were probably under the influence of some sort of substance and despite you being a total stranger you were remotely interesting and she could humor herself a bit longer.
                        Nat🔪
Y/n🍦: 
You’re mean
Nat🔪:
Just so you know I’m laughing so hard right now
Y/n🍦: 
I don’t tolerate liars in the sacred house of Y/n
Nat🔪:
I didn’t know you were a religious figure
Y/n🍦: 
well when you look as hot as I do…
People can’t help but worship you
Nat🔪:
Understandable
I’m sure you look great
 Although your cheeks were already red from alcohol consumption, you were sure that if you had any friends they would point out the noticeable blush on your face
Y/n🍦: 
Thanks ;) 
 I’m sure you look great too
Nat🔪:
Yep
People are falling over themselves as I sit in my Pajama pants and Tank top
Nat looked up at the sound of someone entering the living room. Clint, surprised that someone else was in the room, tripped over his own feet and fell straight onto the floor, Nat chuckled to herself while Clint just groaned. Huh, guess she was right. 
“What are you doing awake Nat?” Clint stood and rubbed the back of his neck, stretching his now-aching muscles
“I could ask you the same thing” Nat shot back
“I’m just getting a snack,” He explained, opening the fridge and taking out some leftover pasta that Wanda had made, Nat lifted her brow in a silent question but Clint just shrugged and grabbed a fork
“Whatever, fine, don’t tell me I didn’t even want to know” He mumbled as he walked back to the elevator to go to his room
Nat decided her room would probably be a more appropriate space for privacy and left the living room for the solace of her bed
She knew she could look you up and find out who you were in seconds but it was nice to finally talk to someone new who wasn’t a target for a mission. And you were actually pretty fun to talk to. Maybe she’d just take a peek in the morning. For now, she was reveling in the moment.
                      Y/n🍦:
Y/n🍦: 
What kind of pajama pants?
Was the question Y/n had sent, along with a picture of her own pants, which had rainbows all over them. She laughed to herself, haha gay. 
She needed to drink less next time.
Nat🔪: 
Wow.
Nothing as interesting as those
Nat debated sending a picture of her plain gray pajama pants and after what felt like ten minutes of internal struggle, finally snapped a quick photo and sent it
Y/n🍦:
Booooo! Gray
You know a person's pajama pants say
A lot about their personality
Nat🔪:
I’m offended
Y/n🍦:
Good, you should be.
I’m offended too
Offended that you’d even consider buying pants so boring
Nat🔪:
What’s wrong with gray?
It’s a great neutral color
Y/n🍦: 
Is that what you want your personality to be Nat
Gray?
Nat🔪:
Well what would you suggest I wear then 
Miss Rainbow pants?
Y/n🍦:
Rainclouds
Since you’re so grumpy all the time
Nat🔪:
You’re really pushing your luck
Might just have to delete your number now
Y/n🍦: 
No!
I thought we were friends
Nat🔪:
Strangers
Y/n🍦:
Strange friends.
Nat🔪:
Don’t you have a job or something? 
How come you’re always up so late?
You should sleep
Y/n🍦:
Don’t You have a job??
Maybe you should go to sleep
Nat🔪:
I’m trying but this crazy stranger keeps
Texting me all night and keeping me awake
Y/n🍦: 
They sound like a great person
You two should definitely meet
Nat🔪:
Goodnight Y/n.
Y/n🍦:
:( fine
Good night Nat, good luck sleeping in your Gray bed
Nat scrolled up and checked the picture that she sent, confirming that her bedspread was in fact, not in the photo
Nat🔪:
How’d you know it was gray?
Y/n🍦:
 like I said-
A person’s pajama pants say a lot about them
Nat just shook her head as she shut off her phone, a smile on her face, You really were something. The more she talked to you the harder she found it to stop texting you.
Pt.4
-I had a random number invite me to a birthday party not too long ago. What’s your weirdest random number story?~ Starry
------
Taglist @romanoffsgal
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darksaiyangoku · 1 month
Text
RWBY Winter Tales
Witch of the Shadows
Blake walked along the path with her familiar, a shadow cat named Fergus. In the City of Vale, there were rumours of a Demon Knight that would appear during the blizzard and slay any unsuspecting travellers. She couldn't stand monsters like that and she agreed to hunt it down in exchange for a weekend at the Library of Forbidden Tomes. There was a treasure kept inside that was far more valubale than any gold in Remnant. Blake shivered violently as she stumbled in the snow.
Fergus; Are you sure you can handle yourself in this weather, my lady?
Blake: O-Of c-c-course. I-I-I'm perfectly f-f-fine.
For several more minutes, the two of them kept trudging along and all the while, the snow became thicker. Blake started to feel her feet soak with each step and it was making her uncomfortable. Unfortunately, she didn't know any fire spells to warm herself up. Fergus shook his head, disappointed in his mistress' lack of forsight.
Fergus: Tsk tsk tsk.
Blake: S-Shut up. A-Anyway, are we in the r-right area yet?
Fergus: We need to go further left. According the citizens of Vale, the Demon Knight's stronghold should be right over here. *runs*
Blake: What the- Fergus, get back here!
Blake tried to run after her familiar, but the deep snow was restricting her movement. She was struggling to keep up and the snowfall was becoming heavy, obscuring her vision. Suddenly, she tripped over what felt like a loose branch and ended up falling down a steep hill.
Blake: Agh!! Ow! *rubbing her head* Damn it! *turns around* Huh?
Blake was flabbergasted. In front of her was a small, decrepit stone house and on the windows were torn flags of a forked Imp. This couldn't possibly be the home of a demon, could it? Blake tried her best to stand up and, grabbing her wand, carefully walked inside.
It wasn't what she had expected at all. The inside of the house looked like a common living room. There was a table, a few broken chairs and a bookshelf. Sitting on a dusty bench was a young man stroking away at Fergus, who trilled delightfully. He had blonde hair, deep sapphire eyes and wore torn white tunic. His most distinguished feature, however, were his horns. He was a demon. Blake shook her head. She couldn't just attack him. Fergus didn't appear to be in any danger and he didn't look like he was a knight either.
Blake: Um, hello?
Demon boy: Huh? Oh. Hello there, witch. I didn't hear you come in. Why is it that you've come here?
Blake: Um... well, I... *lowers wand* I was sent to investigate the reports of a Demon Knight who was attacking unsuspecting travellers. I-I hate to ask, but do you know anything about it?
Demon boy: *shakes head* No, I don't. I was exiled from the Demon Knights 3 months ago.
Blake: Oh... I'm sorry.
Demon boy: It's okay. To be honest, they were a bunch of dicks anyway. By the way, is this your cait familiar?
Blake: Yeah, his name's Fergus. *snaps fingers* Return to me.
Fergus disappeared in a puff of black smoke.
Blake: Anyway, I know you're not a member of the Demon Knights anymore. But did you at least hear anything about the attacks?
Demon boy; Hmmm, if it was attacks on humans, I think I might know one in particular. His name is Cardin and he's... well, infamous is putting it lightly.
Blake: Why exactly is he infamous?
Demon boy: Put it this way, even among demons, he's quite brutal. No one escapes an encounter with him intact. He truly is a monster.
Blake: I see. *grips wand* I hate to ask, but would you help me in finding him?
Demon boy: Well, my combat skills are a little rusty. *stands up* But if you need my help, then I will gladly lend you my services.
Blake: Thank you, Mr...?
Jaune: Jaune Arc. *smiles*
Blake didn't know why, but seeing him smile made her heart flutter a little.
Jaune: Now then, *stands up* why don't you sit down and I'll get some dinner ready.
Blake: O-Oh no no no no, I couldn't possibly-
Jaune: Don't be silly, you just came in from the cold. A hot meal will do you some good. The kitchen's not perfect, but I can whip up something real nice. Do you like tuna?
Blake: YES! I mean- uh, tuna is good.
Jaune: Two tuna steaks with asparagus and mashed potatoes coming right up. *goes into the kitchen*
Blake's stomach grumbled as she heard the sound of pots, pans and the sizzling of the fish. Drool dripped from her mouth as the buttery scent touched her nose. She smiled excitedly. Maybe she had finally found the one.
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angxlwritez · 10 months
Text
Been Like This
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➳♡゛PAIRING: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader
➳♡゛SUMMARY: (Y/N) has finally come to the realization that things are no longer how they used to be. Coming to terms that it was never her fault.
➳♡゛WARNINGS: Explicit Language, Angst, Mentions of Breakups, Angst (If I missed any just let me know).
➳♡゛A/N: Heavily inspired by the song "Been Like This" by Doja Cat. From the moment I heard it I just had to write something. Plus I had to get in my angst bag real quick!
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Y/N sat at the table as classical dinner music played around her. She poked the long green vegetable with her fork while her other hand rested along her thigh, discreetly hiding the fact that her long acrylic nails were digging into the skin of her palms. She watched as the man in front of her ate his meal without giving her a second glance, almost as if she wasn't there at all.
Thoughts went through the woman’s head, debating on whether she should leave or not. She wasn’t the type of person to just leave, but the situation had become too much for her. One of the biggest issues was that she didn’t know what to say, but the reality was that there really was nothing to say at all. This had gone on for far too long, and she finally wanted out.
As Y/N rested the fork down, she took up the thin wine glass and took a long sip as her eyes closed. It wasn’t like the man in front of her was paying attention anyway. That being said, she’d be needing the sweet liquid courage for what she was about to do. As she opened her eyes, she let out an almost quiet “ahem,” hoping to catch his attention.
As Eren looked up, the woman began to speak. “I shouldn't have come. You can't be doing th-" Stopping her words, she took a deep breath from her nose, trying to conceal the harsh tone of her voice as to not draw any attention between the two.
Before anything else was said, Y/N whispered a hushed “I need to go,” as she quickly stood up and left through the restaurant’s doors. Walking as fast as she could in her heels to find her car, tears started to fall from the woman’s face. As easy as she’d thought it would be to let go, she felt hurt and upset.
 She knew she should have listened to the people around her, but she was just too blind to see it. She thought that whatever was going on would just pass, but she was wrong. Those days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months. The same person she fell in love with changed right before her eyes. It wasn’t until the time they spent apart that she finally noticed.
He never reached out to her once, never apologized when he was the one who did wrong. It was always her coming back to him, her apologizing to him, and she never did anything wrong. All she wanted to do was be the perfect partner, and that’s where she realized she was wrong. It was never her fault.
Digging through her purse to find her keys, Y/N could hear the heavy footsteps of Eren close behind her, refusing to turn around.
“What was that about, Y/N?” The man’s voice rose as he continued to stand behind her, waiting for her to turn around.
Discreetly wiping the tears from her face, Y/N gave him a piercing gaze before turning her head again as she began to speak. In a hushed tone, the woman whispered, "Why did you invite me here, Eren?"
"Is it wrong for me to want to see my fiancé? I haven't seen you in five fucking months, Y/N!" The man's voice rose as his nostrils flared.
 The woman turned around as she shook her head. "See me? You didn't even look at me at the damn table. As a matter of fact, you barely even looked at me all night. Do you want to tell me why that is?" Eren stood still, not even uttering a word, just looking at her as if she had two heads.
 "What's the matter, huh? Cats finally got your tongue? Or have you realized how much of a pathetic person you really are?"
Before Y/N could let out any more words, the man quickly interrupted her. "Do you really have to do this here? Can you stop making this a big deal for once?"
Y/N rolled her eyes as she slightly clenched her jaw, her anger almost getting the best of her. As she tried to ignore what Eren had just said, she spoke, "I'm tired, Eren."
Eren continued to stare at the woman, taking slow steps towards her as he tried to close their distance.
Not wanting him any closer than where he was, she mumbled 'stop' as she stuck out her hand to stop him. She murmured, "I don't think I can love you like this.”
"Tell me that's not true, Y/N. This has to be a joke, right?" Eren exclaimed as he was shaken with shock.
The woman shook her head as she spoke, "There's nothing to joke about, Eren. Everything is more important to you than me. I tried, I really did. I gave you three whole years of me, and I guess it wasn't enough for you. All you had to do was meet me halfway, and you couldn't even do that."
 Eren's eyes widened as a look of panic flashed across his face. "We can work this out, Y/N. We always do."
"There's nothing to work out, Eren. I'm done. I really thought you were different, and you proved me wrong. The damage is done. We're over!"
Y/N removed the diamond-encrusted band from around her finger, throwing it at him.
 "You don't mean that, Y/N. I can be better. I promise!"
Y/N watched as Eren got on his knees, pleading with her. As much as it may have hurt her to see him like this, she couldn't bear the pain of the constant hurt he'd caused her. She was doing this because she finally needed to let go.
"I'll have a few people come by to collect the rest of my things in the next few days. If you need anything from me, just let them know, and they'll be sure to drop them off. You won't be seeing me again."
As the woman got in her car, she rolled down the window to utter her last words to him. "And Eren... I hope that one day you'll look back at what we had and regret every little thing that you did to let us end." As she rolled up her window, the woman left in her car.
 Taking one last glance at her rearview mirror, she saw the man she once loved on his knees, leaving behind their memories in the past.
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fmoe1997 · 8 months
Text
Dinner had been served at the Knowlastname household. Within the dining room, Alessio stood by Crimson as he sat at the head of the table; just beside them, little Moxxie sat somberly. He had shifted his body over the lip of the table to gain leverage over his plate. In each hand he wielded a fork and knife respectively, and ineffectively attempted to cut into the tough ribeye placed before him.
He grunted with the effort, and each failed cut only made him more crestfallen. Until, eventually, he fell back onto his seat with a soft sob, implements in hand. He looked at them uselessly, then turned his attention over to his father.
"D-dad?"
Crimson pretended not to hear him, and he took another hit off the cigar he wielded between his fingers. Moxxie saw he had gone ignored, and gripped his silverware tightly. He swallowed dryly and tried to calm himself, then spoke a little louder.
"Dad?"
"You hear somethin', Ale?"
Alessio didn't answer, although he did catch Moxxie's eye as he looked at him. The little imp then raised himself again so he could reach his plate and pushed it slightly towards Crimson. The audible scrape of ceramic on wood got his father's attention. His glare forced Moxxie to shrink back, but all the same he stuttered out.
"C-can you help me, p-please?"
Crimson regarded him with disdain as he put the cigar in his mouth. "C-c-can ya ask me like a man?" He mocked.
Moxxie pulled himself closer and his eyes bounced between the floor and his father. He attempted to ask again, but every time he uttered a syllable his voice shook and he stopped himself. Reflexively, he reached for his tail and pulled it close in an attempt to soothe him, but that only made Crimson mock him further.
"Clearly ya can't. Look at ya, for Satan's sake, gonna cry cause ya can't cut your meat? You really are your mother's son. Too bad she can't help ya, huh Moxx?"
Moxxie's eyes widened to saucers at the mention of his mother, and subsequently spilled over with long-held tears. He ducked his head shamefully into his arms and shook with sobs that racked through his body. While Alessio felt a pang of sympathy for the kid, Crimson did not share that sentiment.
"There ya go again. Cryin' ain't gonna feed ya, Moxxie. And if ya can't figure out how to do somethin' as simple as feedin' yourself, I guess you'll be goin' to bed hungry."
Whether or not he heard his jeers, Moxxie didn't make it clear. He simply put his head in his arms and wept, inconsolable. Alessio had to look away from the sight, unable to endure the imp's pain for any longer. Similarly, Crimson felt the same, albeit in a different sense.
The don rolled his eyes and stood up. "I honestly can't deal with this shit again, I need some quiet. I'll be outside Ale, stay here with Moxx."
He rounded the table without a glance his way, but as his hand touched the door he turned around to look at him as he gave one more command. "And don't help him. He's gotta learn to grow up and take care of his problems himself."
With that he stepped through the door and slammed it shut behind him. Which left Alessio alone with nothing but the soft hum of the crackling fireplace, and the muted whimpers of a lone imp child. When he heard the next slam of the front door being closed, Alessio turned his attention back on Moxxie.
He had slowly raised his head up to look around, as if to ensure his dad had truly left. When he met Alessio's gaze he jumped in his skin and looked back down at the table. When he saw his untouched plate of food, however, Alessio saw his tears begin to form again. He raised his utensils in shaky hands, only to drop them back onto his legs as he screwed his eyes shut.
Alessio hurt for the kid, and he thought for a moment to help him despite his orders. His eyes darted over to the door, however, and he gradually stood down. He couldn't say when Crimson would return from his smoke break, and if he caught him going against his command there would be hell to pay for the both of them.
As much as it hurt, he had to stand aside. At least, that's what he wanted to commit to, but then he overheard a change in Moxxie's cries. As he sobbed, the young imp started to mumble to himself.
"Momma... where are you...? Please... I need help... please help me momma..."
Over and over, he uttered his pleas like a silent prayer in the hopes she would emerge to answer them. But Alessio knew she never would. Not after what Crimson did.
Moxxie's stomach growled loudly, painfully, and he wrapped his arms around himself. Maybe he would survive one night without supper. Maybe. But Alessio didn't want to find out.
He moved over to Moxxie, almost silently, but the little imp heard him regardless as he raised his head over to him. Upon his immediate approach, his eyes widened again and he put his hands up defensively.
"N-no! I'm sorry! I'll do it, please, I-"
Alessio paid no mind to his cries as he reached out and took his hands in his. Moxxie wanted to shout, but saw no reason to in the gentleness of his hold. He blinked, almost confused, as he guided his hands back over to his steak.
Alessio thrust the hand that held the fork down so its prongs stabbed into the toughened meat. Then, his other hand guided Moxxie's knife hand back and forth over the steak until it gradually cut into it. The imp's sadness seemed to vanish in that instant, and he watched astonished as he essentially managed to cut through the troublesome dish himself. Albeit with a couple helping hands.
Eventually, a piece came free, and Alessio relinquished his grip so Moxxie could take control of his fork. He brought it to his face in amazement, then greedily shoved it in his mouth, grateful for even that small bit of sustenance. Alessio, meanwhile, darted his eyes between him and the door cautiously.
When he swallowed that first piece, he looked back up at the shark, and raised his hands for him to take. Alessio shook his head in response, and instead mimicked what he did with Moxxie to insinuate the imp should now try on his own. He gave him a saddened look, but when he saw he wouldn't budge, he turned his attention back to the remainder of his dish. This time, however, he gripped his utensils with more determination.
His left hand rose, the fork in his fist pointed down like a deadly spear, and he put all his force to puncture the meat of the steak. Then he pressed his knife against the corner where the first piece had been cut. With small grunts of exertion, he dragged the utensil back and forth. At first, no real headway had been made, and Moxxie's grunts grew more anxious as he became aware of that fact.
But then, as he continued to cut away, it began to burrow through, and Moxxie's breaths became more excited until, at last, he tore away another piece. This time, completely on his own. A feat that even made Alessio feel a swell of pride in his heart. Made even more so by the elated look Moxxie shot him at his accomplishment before he also chewed down this piece.
Satisfied that he could handle the rest on his own, and Crimson was none-the-wiser to his involvement, he moved to retake his position by the head seat. He took one step forward, then stopped as he felt something grip his leg. He turned his head, then looked down to find Moxxie hugged around him.
He tilted his head up at the shark, his eyes sparkling and lips curled in a smile. "Thank you, Alessio!"
Poor Alessio felt his heart almost skip a beat at the sight, and he placed a hand over his chest. With his other hand, he reached down and patted Moxxie on the back. He wanted to say so many things in response, all of which would've been appropriate, and some things Moxxie deserved to hear after everything that had happened.
But, as always, he kept his cool, and practically told him, "You should finish eating, Moxxie. Don't want your dinner to get too cold."
"Oh, right!" He bounded off Alessio and onto his seat, then went back to cutting his steak, happy as could be.
A soft smile played at the corner of Alessio's lip as he gave him one final glance, before he returned to his post and forced himself back into his typical stoic appearance.
I had this idea/headcanon of Alessio being a stand-in guardian for Moxxie after his mother died, and thus this story came to be. It's probably not canon but it's a sweet thought, and I like to hope he had someone who looked out for him cause we all know Crimson's ass wasn't. Can also be considered a semi-sequel to my other long story post with Alessio at the lake with Moxxie's mom. Regardless, hope y'all enjoyed (and didn't cry too much)
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nnycore · 4 months
Text
Hunger was one of those annoying, unavoidable things about being a human.
Even though Johnny C. was pretty confident that he could survive on sheer force of will if he had to, living hungry was uncomfortable, and while there were plenty of sacrifices Nny was willing to make for the sake of becoming a feelingless, empty husk, hunger (at this time at least) was just a pointless preventable discomfort. 
And so he took to the kitchen.
To say that Nny’s kitchen was barren was an understatement. His fridge contained exactly four items: a carton of milk that expired a month ago (why did he even buy that? he’s lactose intolerant), a tupperware full of something unidentifiable (he really didn’t want to know what was in it), a jar of pickles (great for snacking!), and a single cucumber. His pantry wasn’t much better; all he had there were some cans of tuna (also expired, he accidentally bought them in oil instead of in water and refused to touch them), a bag of chips (only the crumbs were left), and three cans of spaghettio-s. There was also the matter of his lack of tableware. And proper cutlery. He had the basics: ice cream scoop, pizza cutter, a fork, and of course, knives. Lots and lots of knives. Nny was like a magpie when it came to those things. Any time a new knife caught his eye, he just had to have it. Whether it was the design of the handle, the curve of the blade, or the way it caught the light, something about them just drew him in. Of course he didn’t need it. He knew that. His set of kitchen knives could get the job done just fine. Hell, he could probably do his job with a spoon if he had to (actually, that’s not too bad of an idea… maybe that ice cream scoop would come in handy? FUCK that’s why he bought it! damned memory problems…). 
That’s not the point, though. The point is, Johnny’s living space was absolutely abhorrent, and he had nothing to put his fucking spaghetti-o’s in and the screams from the basement were getting loud enough to be annoying. Fuck he didn’t have time for this, he had things to do! People to kill! Walls to paint! Well, one wall. Regardless, he was a busy man.
Nny grabbed a can and a knife and headed down the stairs. While he walked, he worked the blade of the knife around the edge of the can, cutting the top off with a horrible screeching noise. He really should just invest in a can opener. Once the top was hanging on by just a shred of metal, he ripped it off with his teeth and gulped the pasta down. A glob of sauce missed his mouth and landed on the stairs with a plop. 
“God… DAMMIT!” he screamed. 
“Are you gonna pick that up?” a high, croaky voice asked him.
Fuck, on top of this, he had to deal with a stupid disembodied rabbit corpse following him around, squeaking out useless suggestions. Well, not useless, he supposed. He just didn’t want to hear it. 
Nny glared at the floating head. “Fuck off, Nailbunny. I’m not in the mood today.”
“You’re never in the mood, Nny.”
“And why do I have to be, huh? Who am I trying to impress? Because it isn’t you, it isn’t the doughboys, and it sure as hell isn’t the people down in the basement.”
The rabbit pouted. “Alright, I see how it is… but what about that little kid, huh? What’s his name… Tom? Todd?”
“Squee?”
“Yeah, him. Don’t you want to be a good example for him?”
“If Squeegee is looking to me for an example of anything other than what not to do, he’s already too fucked to be helped.”
“Aw, come on, don’t say that! You have plenty of good qualities.”
“Like?”
“Well… uh…” the rabbit faltered. “You’re very polite.”
“I kill people, Nailbunny,” he deadpanned.
“Well, when you’re not killing people, you’re always very nice. Even when you are killing people you can be polite.”
“Like hell I am! Name one time I’ve ever been nice to someone I killed.”
“There was that one guy… Almost a year ago, remember? You two had a nice chat right before you killed him. Very enlightening. I could see you being friends with him if things had gone differently.”
“Yeah, if things went differently. Which they didn’t. Now are you going to let me clean up my mess or what?”
Nailbunny said nothing and drifted away in response.
Nny sighed. Conversations with his head-voice-entity-things were always exhausting. Why were they so adamant on him questioning everything about his existence? Why did every conversation have to be deep and thought provoking? Was it not enough to simply chat about the weather? Or how ironic the death he planned for his latest victim was? Honestly, he put so much thought into the way he killed and there wasn’t even anyone around to appreciate it. But then again, he might just be talking to himself, and if that was the case, he didn’t even want to think about what subconsciously psychoanalyzing himself meant for his already nearly non-existent mental health.
“Nobody fucking helps me in this house,” he grumbled as he retrieved the cleaning supplies from under the kitchen sink.
Returning to the scene of the mess, Johnny realized just how small the glob of tomato sauce was. He had gotten his heavy duty stuff (yellow gloves instead of his usual black ones, a mop, and some windex) out for nothing. “I guess I’ll just…” He paused, dragging his hand down his face in exhausted frustration. “...get a towel then.” As he turned to slink back up the stairs, the steel toe of his boot caught on one of the steps, sending him tumbling down into the basement. Johnny C. landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, his mop and cleaning supplies scattered around him. He groaned, annoyed at the unexpected turn of events. As he struggled to get up, he heard a soft, timid voice from the corner of the basement. 
The source of the disembodied voice stepped into the dim light, revealing a young boy with wide, fearful eyes. It was none other than Squee, the kid from the neighborhood who always seemed to cross paths with Johnny in the most unfortunate situations. "Uh, hi, Mr. Nny. Are you okay?"
Johnny C. scowled, attempting to save face despite the embarrassment of his fall. "Of course, I'm fine. Just testing the structural integrity of the stairs, you know, for safety reasons. How did you get down here, anyways?”
Squee looked skeptical but didn't press the issue, instead fidgeting nervously with his fingers. "I-I heard noises, and I thought it was safer down here. But then you fell, and I didn't know what to do." He hesitated before asking, "Um, why were you screaming and making a mess upstairs?"
Johnny sighed, realizing that the evidence of his spaghetti-o mishap was still splattered on the stairs. "Just hungry, Squee. And those damn voices in my head won't leave me alone."
Squee furrowed his brow, clearly concerned. "Voices? Like, in your head?"
Johnny waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, don't worry about it. Just annoying chatter. Happens all the time."
As Johnny started to gather his cleaning supplies, Squee tentatively approached. "I... I could help you clean up. If you want."
Johnny blinked, genuinely surprised by the offer. He was used to people running away from him or, at the very least, avoiding any involvement with his chaotic life. Squee, on the other hand, seemed genuinely willing to assist.
"Well, kid, you might regret saying that, but sure. Why not? Just don't get any blood on you," Johnny replied with a smirk.
Squee hesitated for a moment before nodding nervously. Together, they began to clean up the mess on the stairs, and Johnny couldn't help but notice the mixture of fear and curiosity in Squee's eyes.
As they worked, Nailbunny floated into view, watching the unlikely duo with a bemused expression. "Looks like you found a cleaning buddy, Nny."
Johnny shot a glare at the floating rabbit head. "Shut up, Nailbunny. It's just a one-time thing. I don't need help from anyone."
But deep down, as he glanced at the timid yet determined Squee, Johnny C. couldn't deny that maybe, just maybe, having someone around wasn't the worst thing in the world.
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timetokrill · 2 months
Text
post title pending. my weird swap au
this is the post im making for scratchswap, my au where i switch the post-scratch kids with the post-scratch trolls sharing their aspect (dirk-nepeta, roxy-equius, jake-eridan, and jane-feferi) and then the pre scratch dudes get swapped accordingly. yes this bc of the Parallels between feferi and jane and then i got a whole Thing out of it. im working on classpects/ages. characters under the cut
pre-scratch trolls
note for the record i did not think much about these guys
johune peixes: i have done 0 thinking on johune so sorry. theyre swapped w meenah and everyones really confused about how that funny little guy was a huge scary empress in every other universe
rozela zahhak: the sorcerer wooooo! pretty similar to canon rose shes just really fucking strong. good friends w aranea
dayves leijon: im still not 100% sure how to go about this one tbh but he does like romance in some form. also i got in in my head hes skittish. no idea where that came from. capitalizes b (glasses) and maybe something else?
jaidli ampora: oh i actually thought about this one a little! fashion is sorta fifties inspired like cronus but shes not a greaser thats his schtick. you dont steal a mans shtick. is there a c in that word or not
post scratch trolls
jaynce peixes: feels like i should work on that name huh. anyways jaynce does Not want to be the heiress (for reasons both transgender and not) at all and is in a little bit of denial about this. i lied actually a lot of denial. may or may not be moirails w jayque havent decided. replaces e and o with -E and -O forks and spoons!
roxxie zahhak: a little more into robots n shit than coding but still does that. bit of a jack of all trades! thinks deyirks lusus (its. kity) is the most special boy in the whole wide world. probably moirails w deyirk now that i think abt it but maybe not. im on the fence abt a lot of stuff here. uses some kind of prefix, emoticons have X for eyes, replaces x sounds with x, y (as a vowel) with ie, and s w z
deyirk leijon: WORLDS MOST NORMAL MAN (lying) lives in a cave in the middle of the woods not for catgirl reasons but because this guy is going insane in solitude works best when isolated. also uses some kind of prefix for a quirk. roxxie drops off robot parts at his house every few weeks and they make a day of it theyre Pals
jayque ampora: he helps feed gloybsub or whatever her name is and hes so normal about the deaths on his conscience. really hes so normal guys cmon. normal
pre scratch kids
mimi egbert: token cis friend sorry meenah. or not idc. more mellow because dad egbert is just a normal guy and isnt raising her to be the literal queen of the world. still meenah tho
hans lalonde: i am unsure about the name but i think its fine. the ultimate horse girl (therian). keeps maplehoof in the foyer. if he had to interact with his dad for more than 20 seconds they would both implode from the sheer awkwardness. the house is big as shit they just gesture to each other when they see each other and thats fine for both of them
manu strider: wears heart shades everywhere as a sort of joke. he doesnt actually know. caps lock is broken and refuses to fix it + uses kaomoji a lot. fujoshi to transmasc pipeline haha who said that
crow harley: im stilling working on which animal to furrify cronus with. watches a bunch of old movies and picked up those speaking habits. other shit pending
post scratch kids
fifi crocker: she wants to be crockercorps new ceo sosososo bad she would make up for all of their horrible crimes against humanity by uh. shes working on it ok?
neta strider: the she/her to she/they to they/them to he/they to he/him to he/they to she/he/they to The Creature pipeline. percentage of their diet that is fish he caught w her own bare hands has been steadily increasing. is trying to buff up on history but keeps on going down wikipedia rabbit holes and rereading the nyan cat article for the thousandth time. would still do the detective pony rewrite but would get sidetracked by the lolcat metaphor for way longer
eqis lalonde: do you know how hard it is to smush equius down to four letters? i just made this name up man. anyways i dunno what to do with her but shes a girl of the horse variety
dani english: diversity win this sickly victorian orphan child is genderfluid! fucking terrified of the lusi on the island. fancies herself sort of a romantic poet
the entirety of this was brainstormed while i was bored in class for the record. still brainstorming so im gonna edit this when more shit arises
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Text
Imagine
Kakashi x Civilian Reader
Warnings: None. Just fluff. 💕
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"Kakashi.." A hand smoothed over his silver hair, brushing back loose stands that fell into his face once more when the process was repeated. "It's time to wake up."
The voice belonged to his love who whispered sweet good mornings into his ear as a way to coax him out of bed before dawn even broke out over the horizon. His right eye peeked tiredly open to glance up at you, letting out a content sigh before burying his face back into his pillow while you sat up in the shared space beside him. As much as he loved waking up next to you he also enjoyed the peace when the two of you would lay in each other's arms in a comfortable silence minus the soft snores and the sound of your hearts beating together.
"What time is it?" He finally mumbled, turning so he was on his side instead of his stomach, watching as you glanced over your shoulder to double check what the alarm clock on the nightstand read.
"5:37" You answered before reminding him of his mission that he was supposed to go on today with his students.
"They've been training hard as of late. I'm sure they can handle it." Kakashi brushed it off as if it could be solved that easily.
You let out a light chuckle at your partner's behavior expecting something like this from him, trying not to give into his warmth as he inched closer and pressed his head into your stomach now.
"Kakashi they are still genin and this is a C-ranked mission, is it not? They still need you to guide them."
His students were lucky he had you around. They didn't need to meet up at the gate of Kohona till 7:00 since they had to get an early start but thanks to you he might be a little closer to being on time even if he was still late like he usually was.
"Mind getting the coffee started while I take a shower?" Kakashi let out a yawn as he rose to his feet to gather his clothes. The bare skin of his chest combined with the coolness of the damp morning made him miss the warmth given off by your embrace. If given the choice he might have chosen to stay in bed with you for most of the day but instead, he ignored the shivers and made his way towards the bathroom door.
While Kakashi took the time to get himself ready, you began preparing a small breakfast the two of you could share together before he headed off, making sure that the coffee would be ready by the time he came back out.
"I know it's not much, but does some eggs with a slice of toast sound good?" You asked, hearing the door open and the silver haired man came up from behind you, brushing his wet hair against your skin as he moved to peer over your shoulder.
"Sounds great." Kakashi smiled, showing a lot of love with just his one eye that wasn't covered. "Give me a minute and I'll join you, okay?"
You could only nod as he pulled away from you again causing you to let out a shiver of your own. You weren't sure if it was because he still needed to finish drying off and a few water droplets hit your cheek cause he was so close or if it was the closeness in general that made you weak in the knees. He still managed to have that effect on you even after a year of being together.
"How long will you be away for this time?" You asked once you both sat at the table. Before you could pick up your fork you brushed a few loose stands away from your face, making a note to slip in the shower yourself once you were left on your own.
"As long as everything goes smoothly it could be three days but if any complications occur an extra day or two could be added." Kakashi answered, lowering his mask just enough to take a bite of his eggs before slipping it back up. Thoughts began to cloud your mind so you didn't pay any attention to the movement, the shift of your eyes wandering downward not going unnoticed by him.
"Now, what is that look for?"
"Huh?" You lifted your head back up to see Kakashi looking at you with a tilt of his head already knowing you were experiencing some concern. You've held that expression before and he didn't blame you. He was a jonin who was sent out on dangerous missions on a regular while you were just a civilian who prayed he would return home to you in one peace.
"It's like you said this is a C-rank mission." Kakashi reminded that Lord Third wouldn't send him on anything too dangerous while his students were still getting the feel of being out on the battlefield. With talk of the chunin exams approaching that would soon change but he knew that wouldn't ease your mind at the moment.
"I'm sorry." You apologized, feeling a little embarrassed for feeling this way when you should be used to it by now. You've known the man since you were children afterall but knowing what has become of his teammates and Sensei..
"I know.." Kakashi voiced, feeling the same as you did. Even if you weren't a shinobi like he was, the thought of someone or something taking you away from him never failed to cross his mind. As much as he promised to return home to you, you had to promise that you would be here waiting for him with open arms.
"Thank you for the meal, Y/n" Kakashi smiled, beginning to take care of his plate. "When I return I ought to treat you to a homecooked dinner."
The thought of Kakashi cooking your favorite foods and knowing be would be back soon enough to have a special date night with you eased some of the worry that you harbored. You smiled at him in return, offering to clean up while he finished getting himself ready.
Before both of you knew it the time had reached, 6:55. If he left now he would be right on schedule to meet Sasuke, Sakura, and Naruto at the gate. The sun was starting to peek out a little more, evident by the slight increase in temperature and the small bit of light shining though the curtains; having you give off a glow that made you even more beautiful to him.
"I'm all yours for a few days once I return." Kakashi squeezed your hand while the other held the strap of his bag up on his shoulder. "And I mean it this time."
There had been times where he thought he would be able to sleep in and spend a day or so with you but then he would be on call for yet another mission, cutting the time between the two of you short. He'd make sure to give you the attention you deserved though. He owed you so much for staying by his side and loving him the way you did.
Moving his hand from his strap to his mask, he slipped it down so it was tucked under his chin. Something he only did around you during moments like this when he would lean forward and capture your lips with his own. He never failed to give you a goodbye kiss before having to part ways with you. Feeling you reach up to place your hand on the back of his neck to bring him closer, Kakashi slid his arm around your waist so you were pressed against him and intertwined your fingers together with your other hand. Minutes went by as you stayed like that, coming up for air only to repeat the process a few more times until you realized you were keeping him from going anywhere, forcing yourself to pull away.
"Looks like you're not going to be right on time again." You spoke once you caught your breath. His students were probably used to it by now but you didn't want to hold him up any longer.
"Eh, so I'm a little late." Kakashi gave you a closed-eye smile in amusement as he slipped his mask back on. At least he would have a better excuse this time. How he looked at it, any moment with you was worth it and he looked forward to more times the two of you would share together.
"I love you," Kakashi told you before closing the door on his way out finally heading in the direction of the village gates. Standing alone in the room now, you smiled to yourself wondering how you managed to gain the attention of such a caring man as him.
"I love you too, Kakashi."
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nori-writes · 1 year
Note
I need me a similar fic to your recent Yoru one but with Harbor PLS 😩🫶🏻
Kiss The Chef
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Harbor x Reader
Summary: Harbor bring Y/N breakfast in bed.
W/C: 400+
A/N: OMG I loved writing this, tysm for the request! I hope this is what you wanted, if not message me and I’ll whip up another one for ya. Enjoy ☺️
Light made its way through the curtains of your room, indicating that it was morning. A smell of pancakes and syrup filled the house, waking you up. As you peeked your head out from under the covers, expecting to be met with your lover beside you, the covers were pulled back and the space was instead empty.
“Oh, mere Pyaar! You’re awake,” You saw your lover arrive into the room with a bright grin, with his hair up in a bun, wearing an apron which had the words, ‘Kiss the Chef’ embroidered on the front with a food tray in hand, “I was just about to come and wake you. Thought you might’ve enjoyed some breakfast in bed today.” He said with a smile still lining his face as he placed down the tray of food onto your lap.
He had made pancakes for you which had some syrup and butter to the side if you decided you wanted it, “Oh my god, Varun. You didn’t have to do this.”
He shook his head, “You’re right I didn’t have to, I wanted to. You deserve some rest, you’ve been doing a lot lately for everyone. What better way to repay you than to take care of my lovely significant other?”
You felt your face go warm. God this man takes care of you so well, you might as well have fallen for him all over again, “You do plenty for me, don’t worry.”
“No, I don’t do enough,” he huffed, placing a kiss onto your temple, “The food isn’t going to eat itself mere Pyaar.”
You nodded, picking up the fork and taking a bite of the food that was sat in front of you, “I love your food so much you don’t understand. This is why I love you,” you managed to say with a full mouth.
Varun smiled at you with a small chuckle, “So you only love me for my food and breakfast in bed, huh?”
You vigorously shook your head, swallowing your food before speaking up, “No, no! That’s not what I meant!”
Your lover watched you try to plead innocent in amusement, panicking because of something you had said before getting up and moving over to you, placing a kiss onto your lips, making you quiet, “I was only teasing you, pyaare, don’t worry. Love you,” He said, flashing you a smile.
“I love you more.”
Yo! Feel free to send in a request if they’re open! Just be sure to make sure they’re open and read the rules and check what characters I write for aswell!
If you do like my writing check out more here💙
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landonfour · 2 months
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/landonfour/740659602437390336/im-gonna-be-probably-the-only-one-thats-not-on
wow anon you must be fun at parties with the moral superiority. everything must be black and white, no grey huh? so at this point the most y/n has done is “emotional” cheating, which sucks yes but when you’re practically a single mum who has reached out with their concerns about their relationship to their partner only to be brushed aside and love bomb that’s not exactly a.) healthy or b.) likely to inspire confidence. and on the Charles tunnel vision point, yea no. Apart of being in a serious committed relationship and a whole ass FATHER is that there are time you are not going to be the priority. Fucking off for weeks at a time, even for work is not acceptable with a newborn. Girlie has to remind the man that their kid didn’t even walk yet. I’d also guarantee he’s not aware of what size diaper she wears or that she has to have a specific type of sock because of whatever reason. Those are expectations for both parents not just the mom. (Also would like to talk about how people are willing to make excuses for Charles, for being a shit parent but would be coming for y/n with fire and pitch forks if she wasn’t able to answer these questions. Let’s not forget girlie is an F1 journalist. She’s attending races and work the same as Charles.) Knowing all of this I’m surprised girlie didn’t do more than look for attention from Lando. As for her not taking M’s advice or lying to her, I think there needs to be a deeper look into why that is. I don’t think it’s b/c girlie thought what she was doing was wrong necessarily; but more that she felt she would be judged by M or that she couldn’t be trusted. (Which considering she thinks that Charles is cheating on her and N has been a suspect I would understand. Posting trust in even one person like that can have lasting repercussions for all relationships l) From personal experience, there are 100% friends that I would have no problem telling everything; even if I knew that they wouldn’t agree with what I was doing because I know they would still have my back. They might give me crap for my choices, but best believe if my baby daddy kicked me and my child out of the house there would be no question that I would be able to crash for a bit. Not to say that I would be ready to filth (lovingly) while I was there. And let’s remember that it was advice, just because you give your friend unsolicited (I’m pretty sure it was unsolicited) advice doesn’t mean that they have to follow through.
now let's stay friendly with each other 😭
Let's just say our girl will be doing just fine in the next part, we'll have some simps and a whole lotta apologies, our girl will turn out fine 😭
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cubicle-eyes · 2 years
Text
Crimson and Clover
Robin Buckley x F!Reader
We ignore the date songs come out ✌️
(Also I'm Listening to Joan Jett & the Blackhearts, bc thats the only one i've heard-"
" Ah, now I don't really know her, But I think I could love her, Crimson and Clover "
--------
Y/N was sitting at the small dining table across from Robin. It was only a two-seater, since her city apartment ran on the cheaper side of rent, but Y/N had done her best to make sure it still was a good table. Robin was picking around the food on her plate, and Y/N nervously twitched her fingers as she noticed Robin was actually staring out the window.
"Do you not like it?"
"Huh? No! It's great! I'm just dreading driving back home through the traffic."
Robin said, grabbing Y/N's hand that wasn't hold a fork and grasping her fingers assuringly. Robin scrunched her nose as she mentioned traffic and Y/N gazed back outside. Traffic. If only Robin saw what it was like on a bad day, but Y/N understood, since Robin hadn't really gone anywhere but Hawkins. The only reason she got a license was so she could drive out two towns over to the city to visit. Y/N inhaled sharply through her nose, and Robin turned her attention back to Y/N as she spoke.
"You could just stay. The night, you know?"
"Really?" Robin whispered giddily, her smile child-like. Her shoulders raised closer to her head in excitement as she squealed, and Y/N giggled. Y/N jumped lightly when Robin gasped, clasping Y/N's single hand with both of hers, her fork clattering to her plate.
"Can we sleep in the same bed?" She asked excitedly. Y/N bust into laughter, and Robin gave her a lopsided grin.
"I really don't think my bed is big enough for both of us."
"What do you mean?"
She pouted, and Y/N was quick to remind her they both (A) slept restless, (B) woke up in literally the weirdest positions, and (C)-
"Alright, alright. I can sleep on the couch."
Robin pouted again, staring at the little sofa across from the TV. Y/N squeezed Robin's hands, and the brunette turned her head back to Y/N.
"It has a pull-out bed. Maybe we can both sleep on there?"
"But you have an actual bed, and it's your house- well, apartment- so I don't want you to have to sleep on a shitty pull-out just because-"
"Robin, you're my girlfriend. I'll die on that stupid couch bed."
Robin grinned, picking her plate up with one hand and rather accidentally forcing Y/N too grab her own quickly, since Robin was dragging her along to the kitchen sink. Robin rinsed her plate, sat it in the sink, then took Y/N's, doing the same. She glanced at the clock, glad to see it was digital, and back to Y/N as she turned.
"Well, it's only seven. What do you wanna do?"
"We can play some music. Quietly."
"Sounds good. Slow dance an' romance."
Robin said, pronouncing her "o" sounds dramatically, making Y/N giggle. Y/N popped the record into the player, messing with the volume slightly so it didn't wake her neighbors baby. Robin scooted the coffee table out of the way and pulled Y/N into the center of the room, pressing their bodies together and smiling even more when Y/N locked her arms around Robin's neck. Robin was full-on staring at Y/N's face, but mostly at her eyes. Y/N's eyes gave Robin a rush similar to that of sneakily stealing a tulip from a mean old mans garden. Y/N laughed quietly, pressing their foreheads together. The H/C girl immediantly pulled away, and moved some of the strands of hair from Robin's and her oan forehead, pressing them back together. That made Robin laugh again, giving Y/N's torso a squeeze.
"Why'd you do that?"
"Your hair is sticking to your forehead."
"It's hot in here!"
"No it isn't-"
"It is when you're dancing with a super hot girl!"
Y/N flushed, laughing. She pulled away, pecking Robin's lips. Robin made a tsking noise, cupping Y/N's cheeks and pulling her back in. It was a sweet kiss, the music from the record really making the room softer. Robin smiled into the kiss, and soon the pair split. Y/N fixed Robin's hair over her forehead again (because the way Y/N had her bangs pushed up reminded her of a porcupine), and turned the record off.
"Alright, Robin. Let's get the couch set up."
"Aw, just a little longer?"
"I have work in the morning, baby, I have to be in bed by eight or nine."
Robin groaned dramatically, but helped Y/N set up the couch, pulling the cushions off and yanking the fold out bed a littke to roughly, making it clatter onto the floor like someone dropped a bag of forks onto concrete. Robin stood there with her hands over her mouth, eyes wide as a baby started crying next door. Y/N snorted, and Robin cracked, face-planting (regrettably) onto the bed. Y/N threw some pillows at her, hitting her in the head, and then some blankets.
"Can we turn on a movie while we sleep?"
"Yep. My tapes are over there."
"Awesome."
Robin dug through the box, pulling out her favorite movie and putting it in Y/N's player. Y/N had fixed the bed up, and Robin took off her pants, sliding into bed. Y/N offered her a nightgown, since she was changing, but Robin waved her off. Y/N rolled her eyes, fixing her nightgown and sliding into the pull-out bed next to Robin.
They cuddled up, legs tangled as they laid in a somewhat odd position, halfway facing eachother and halfway on their backs, but it was comfortable, so nobody was complaining. A few hours later, Robin kissed Y/N's forehead, curling into her girlfriend and almost immediantly passing out. Y/N laughed quietly, turning the TV off and petting Robin's hair. She kissed Robin's scalp, getting comfortable next to her.
"I love you, Robin. I'll see you in the morning."
The words gave Y/N a little jump, since the three words hadn't been uttered in the relationship yet. Through her slowly taking over sleepiness, she felt Robin shift her arms around her, pulling her impossibly closer.
"I love you too."
--------
- 💙
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imagines-ahs · 1 year
Text
Chapter Thirty-Four: Porpoise.
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Summary: Wilhemina Venable felt it was finally time to leave Kineros Robotics and get a job with people who weren’t such morons like Jeff and Mutt. What she didn’t expect, however, was for her new boss to be so damn insufferable. She didn’t expect to fall in love with her, either.
Tag List: @mayfair-fleur @mistysswampmud @paulsonsratched @msvenablx @notmeellaannyy @rwoolfe @golddustdykes​ @lovingsarah @slut-for-sarah @geinobinarie​ (message me to be added if interested!)
Jenny hummed as she walked to the sink and reached for the mugs on the cabinet. “These two have gotten pretty close, huh?”
Billie Dean frowned. She turned back to Jenny. “What?” Only then she saw the girl pointing to Wilhemina’s and Emma’s mug, which were left to dry together on the counter. She gulped.
Jenny’s eyes opened wide for a moment. “Uh-oh…”
“What?” Billie Dean asked again, and this time a tiny bit of annoyance joined her tone.
“You’re not a very good actress…” A sigh left Billie Dean’s lips. She set their food down and took a seat on the table. Jenny soon joined her with their mugs down and the bottle of orange juice. I don’t want to talk about it. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”
“Tell her what?” Billie Dean’s walls were high. Jenny sighed as she kept on staring at her. After a minute and with much hesitation, Billie shook her head. She sighed. “No. I did not tell her.” Her honey eyes avoided Jenny’s.
“Why?” Jenny reached for her food.
“Because.” Billie Dean opened her container and reached for the orange juice. She poured them both some. Her eyes kept on avoiding Jenny’s at all costs.
“Because…?”
“Jenny, I don’t want to talk about it.” Setting the juice aside, Billie Dean looked at the girl. And Jenny carried that look in which Billie knew she would manage to get her to open up, because she always did, and she never judged. And so her walls slowly began to crumble, and her eyes began to sting again. For fuck’s sake. “She… she’s with Emma.”
“Is it serious, now?”
“I don’t know… I think so.” Her words came in a murmur. Billie Dean reached for her fork and mindlessly played with her food. I feel defeated.
“So you didn’t even try?”
That was enough. Billie Dean’s eyes stared at Jenny like she could pierce through her soul. “Try what, Jenny?” With her voice louder and rougher, Billie gulped the lump in her throat. “Should I just tell her that I’m fucking in love with her and leave her to deal with that information alone? Should I come between her and Emma and just make her choose a side? Should I fucking tell her that I can’t stand b-being just friends and that’s why I’m pulling away?” With her chin trembling, Billie Dean refused to acknowledge the way her eyes began to overflow. “She’s taken so long to open up, Jenny! She’s taken weeks to even smile at me, it’s not fair! Imagine how long she must have taken to kiss her?!” Her face scrunched up in a sob. Billie Dean set her fork down and leaned back on the chair. She sniffled. “I can’t do that to her! I just can’t… I’m t-too late… I’m too late, J-Jenny…” With her palms, Billie covered her face. She took a deep breath, trying to keep the rest of the tears inside. “And I’ve t-tried pushing it a-aside… I tried ignoring i-it… I am trying.” Her hands left her face, falling to her lap in defeat. “But I c-can’t anymore. And I’m terrified because she’s the o-only person I feel connected to i-in ages, and I’m l-losing her. I’m losing t-the best thing that’s e-ever happened to m-me in God knows h-how long… why am I such a failure, J-Jenny?” It was an honest question; Billie Dean desperately wanted to know why. But Jenny only stared at her, with eyes that radiated comfort but not pity. Billie sniffled again, eyes falling to her lap. She focused on making her tears stop yet again, and when they finally did, Jenny was still there, listening to her, giving her time and space. With one last sniffle, Billie Dean reached to wipe her cheeks dry.
“Billie,” Jenny said once Billie seemed to be composed again. Her voice was gentle, reassuring, soothing. “Do you even know how she truly feels about Emma?”
“No,” Billie murmured as she shook her head, eyes down still. “But I know how Emma feels about her.” Jenny hummed, encouraging her to keep going. Billie Dean took a deep breath. “Remember Terry?”
“Oh, no…”
Billie nodded, eyes threatening to overflow again. “She thinks it’s my fault she got fired… and she’s assuming that’s what I’ll do to Wilhemina.”
“So she knows you’re into her?”
“Apparently.” Brown eyes finally looked up. Jenny offered her a sad smile. “She’s caught me and Wilhemina talking a few times… I don’t know how she picked up on that, but she did. She’s been telling me to keep my distance.” Had Venable said something? What if Wilhemina was aware of her feelings?
“What?!” Jenny allowed herself to gasp.
Billie nodded. “I don’t know, Jenny,” she sighed. “Can we not talk about it today?”
Jenny bit her lower lip. “We have to if you feel like you’re a failure… you haven’t even tried, yet you’re assuming she doesn’t feel the same.”
“She doesn’t,” Billie Dean insisted. She shifted on her chair in annoyance. “Just last Friday she was at Emma’s. I saw her on Saturday, neck full of hickeys…” Billie looked away. “It’s just not meant to be.”
“I have to disagree,” Jenny shook her head. “So she had a little fun with Emma, so what? You have your flings too and as far as I’m concerned, you were never in love with these women.”
“It is not the same,” Billie Dean murmured.
“How?”
“Wilhemina isn’t the type to have flings… you’ve seen the woman, she barely allows anyone to talk to her.” Billie Dean knew first handed how much she had struggled to get close to Venable.
“That still doesn’t convince me you shouldn’t try.”
Billie Dean let out another sigh, and the girl offered her a cheeky smirk. A faint chuckle escaped Billie’s lips. “Can we change subjects, now? Please?”
“Only if you promise me to think about it.”
“I promise.”
“Fine.” Jenny reached to take a sip of the orange juice.
 After lunch was done, Billie Dean was back at her office, working on the party. Jenny had gone out to check on a few things, which left Billie alone for the afternoon. She focused on work and work only, ignoring all the attempts her mind made to sneak Wilhemina into her thoughts. Only when her head began to pound from all the reading did Billie Dean realize it was probably time to leave. With a sigh, she leaned back against the chair. The room was starting to grow hotter in color, for the Sun had begun its way home. I’m gonna go home, order a pizza, and pass out in bed. That was all she wanted. Getting up, Billie stretched herself; her back popped, and she let our a hum at the pleasant feeling. With a sigh, Billie Dean reached for her purse and began to make her way to the elevator. I hope Wilhemina has left already. She definitely didn’t need to add salt to the wound, specially if she happened to catch Emma and her together. Much to her luck, that was exactly what had happened: as soon as she stepped into the main office her eyes were drawn to purple, and there Venable was, talking to Emma as she grabbed her things to leave. Billie instantly looked down and kept on walking, hoping none of them would notice her presence. Of course that wasn’t the case, either.
“Billie,” Venable was quick to call when she saw blonde, silky locks entering the room. Billie Dean seemed to have been caught doing something wrong, for she turned around with a look of pure hesitation in her eyes.
Fuck my life, why won’t you? “Yes?” Billie Dean forced herself to smile. Her eyes avoided focusing too much on Wilhemina, for falling back into purple was easy. And she could see, from the corner of her eyes, how Emma looked at her with that stupid little smirk.
“Do you need a ride home?” Please say yes. Venable squeezed her cane, nervousness crawling inside and sticking to her every nerve. She’s avoiding me, the thought kept going around in a looping. “I really—I have a few things I need to discuss with you.”
Saying no to Wilhemina was hard. Billie Dean knew she had noticed that there was something off, and she was pretty sure that would be the content of their ‘discussion’ if she accepted the ride. And Billie simply couldn’t do it; she couldn’t do it to herself, couldn’t spend more than half an hour alone with Venable in a closed space where none of them had anywhere to go. She couldn’t risk getting even more hurt, and she couldn’t risk hurting Wilhemina even more. I should just come clean. She had tried it, and the universe had been pretty clear about how much of a bad idea that was. Besides, I have my car here. Not that she wouldn’t have minded leaving it there overnight, had Venable’s offer been made a few days ago. If she had to discuss something serious about work, she’d have gone to my office. “I appreciate the offer, but I have my car in here.”
Is that even true? Wilhemina had no reason to doubt otherwise. And Emma shifted on her feet beside her and looked down in a way that, in that moment, simply annoyed Venable to her core for some reason. What could she even say? Billie Dean’s answer left no room for questions. “Right.” Her jaw clenched once again. She gulped and looked away from Billie’s eyes. They’re not as warm anymore. “I’ll come by your office tomorrow, then.“
“Alright.” Billie nodded once before clearing her throat. “Well, I’ll see you two tomorrow.” With that, she turned on her heels and followed to the elevator. She heard Emma saying something she didn’t bother paying attention to, and contrary to everything that had happened today, the elevator was already at the seventh floor when she pressed the button.
With a sigh, Wilhemina grabbed her coat and began to put it on. She nibbled on her inner cheek as she kept her eyes focused on nothing at all, silence filling the space. Until Emma’s voice took its place.
“Wilhemina?” Emma asked softly. Venable hummed as she grabbed her purse again, now ready to go. But Emma didn’t move. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” It was true; there was nothing wrong. It was all probably in her head, right? Billie Dean was just tired… right? It’s none of her business nonetheless.
“Don’t lie…” Emma crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.
Wilhemina scoffed. “Please.”
“I’m serious.”
Venable scoffed yet again, shaking her head. “There is nothing wrong.” Emma hummed in a way that only caused the anger in her chest to boil harder. Why was she so angry, anyways? Was it even anger? “Why are you asking me that?”
“You’ve gotten quiet… that’s all.” Considerably softer now and with her arms no longer crossed, Emma reached to caress one of Wilhemina’s hands. “You can talk to me if there’s something bothering you…”
The touch felt like getting one of her walls instantly demolished. Dark brown eyes fell down to their hands, and Venable took a deep breath. Emma did nothing wrong. Did she really mean what she had said, though? Could Venable talk to her? She’s been true to her word so far… Wilhemina gulped, slowly turning her hand up and tangling their fingers together. “I just,” she started, hesitantly. Emma squeezed her hand in encouragement. “Billie Dean… I think—it’s stupid.” Venable shook her head. Her eyes avoided emerald ones.
“You can tell me,” Emma repeated, and this time she leaned closer to brush a strand of fiery hair away from Wilhemina’s eyes and tuck it behind her ear. Green eyes met with brown ones again, and in them Venable found something that resembled comfort, but didn’t exactly feel that way. I wish I could talk to Billie.
“I think I did something wrong in my job, or something…” Venable licked her lips as she thought, eyes falling back down and away from Emma’s. “Billie has been—she’s been weird, that’s all.”
Emma offered her a soft smile. “What makes you think that?”
Wilhemina shrugged. Taking about it felt pointless, and it didn’t really make her feel very comfortable. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“That’s okay.” Emma squeezed her hand once again. Venable gulped and looked back up at Emma. “Just know I’m sure it’s nothing about your work… maybe she needs some space from everyone and everything to deal with this time of the year. Christmas is always stressful for her, and with the party so close, I’m sure she has a lot on her plate.”
That made sense. Venable nodded slightly as she sighed. She could have accepted my help… she works too much. “Right.” Pulling away, Wilhemina reached to fix her hair and clothes. She stood up with her posture as neat as ever, face back to its usual unbothered features. “Should we get going?”
“Sure.” Emma nodded and guided them to the elevator, hand in hand with Venable.
In her bed, Wilhemina hummed as she watched some TV. She had already had dinner and now cuddled with Purpura. Nothing good seemed to be on in any channel, so with a sigh she reached for her phone; Emma had texted her something about getting home safely, which was the only notification she had. Nibbling on her lower lip, she clicked on Billie Dean’s contact. Then Venable stared at it. She’s probably resting already… But something still felt weird, and Wilhemina was growing even more worried. Hesitantly, she began to type: ‘Did you get home safely?’ read the first text. Venable hit send and began typing again: ’Are you okay? I’ve been worried about you.’ The urge to ask if she had done something wrong was big, but Wilhemina managed to ignore it. Billie Dean didn’t need another person to please. Setting her phone aside, Venable nibbled on her lower lip. It was too early to go to sleep. She looked around, looking for something she could do to pass the time, and then her eyes fell down on a block of paper she had gotten out of the attic. Art had always been therapeutic for her, and her mind could use the distraction. Wilhemina got up and reached for it, finding her pencils and bringing it all to bed. Then, she began to draw, hand guiding the pencil instead of her brain. The shapes shifted and mixed and matched until she had what looked like a head. Then two eyes, a nose, lips… then beautiful hair that curled slightly. Venable held the paper in front of her eyes, scanning the details. She shaded a little more, erased here and there, added volume to certain bits. Then, she held it up again. And this time the sketch resembled someone familiar… very. This is Billie Dean. The lines were rough and definitely could be improved, but the shapes were there, loud and clear. Wilhemina licked her lips. Art was subjective, and often times reflected what was in one’s subconscious. It made sense… Billie Dean clouded all of her senses. Staring at the sheet in front of her, Venable sucked on her lower lip. What am I feeling? She had to come face to face with the fact that she… didn’t know. And Emma was being so nice and so sweet but something felt off and Wilhemina wasn’t sure that’s how being with someone was supposed to feel. But when I’m with Billie Dean… Things instantly got better when she was with Billie Dean by her side. How would it be if the tables were turned? If Billie Dean were on Emma’s place, Venable doubted she would deny her any kisses—even in the office. She doubted she wouldn’t want Billie’s hands all over her, caressing her, feeling her waist and hips and, maybe, her most intimate parts, too. What if she touched my back… Would Billie Dean leave? Would Billie still want her around? It was a constant question in her mind. And one she doubted she would ever be able to answer, for showing her back to anyone was a huge no. And Billie Dean was a lesbian… Venable hadn’t stopped to think about it ever since she found it out; too many things had happened. And suddenly, that was all she could think about. Venable grabbed her supplies and put them aside on the bedside table, soon laying back down and turning around. She took a deep breath. What is she like with women? Instinctively, Wilhemina licked her lips. How was Billie Dean’s kiss? How was her touch? What does it feel like to be loved by her? Venable gulped. I shouldn’t. But she was already thinking about it… What is it like to have her? What is it like to have her like I had Emma? How would Billie Dean’s weight feel on top of her? How would her kisses feel like on her neck? How do her coral nails feel like while scratching down my waist? Wilhemina took another slow, deep breath. The fact that Billie Dean did, in fact, do these things with other women caused the thoughts to become all the more real. And it felt overwhelmingly intoxicating. Subconsciously, Wilhemina moved one of her hands to play with the hem of her shirt; she passed the cloth through her fingertips, eyes glued on the ceiling. What are her breasts like? The cotton of her underwear was starting to grow moist. Venable bit her lower lip. What does she sound like? Emma’s moans were still fresh in her brain, sweet and erotic. But Wilhemina was sure Billie Dean’s would be even sweeter… she could almost hear them if she focused hard enough. She pictured herself underneath Billie Dean, foreheads touching, eyes glued on those honey ones that brought her so much peace. Her hands ached as she imagined what would it be like to caress Billie’s thighs on top of her dress and then, slowly, move them underneath the cloth and feel the smoothness of her skin… how would Billie Dean react? Would her breath get shallow? Would her abdomen quiver? Would she be able to smell the cherry of her breath in her nostrils? I would kiss her like she were the most precious oasis in the middle of the desert. Kissing Emma was good… but it was far from being passionate. Is that what it’s supposed to be like? Venable couldn’t understand why her thoughts mixed and matched and looped all over. But her lower stomach had begun to burn all of a sudden, and her hips chanted once as she uncomfortably lay there. Slowly, a hand slipped down; Wilhemina cupped her center on top of the pajamas. “Mgh.” I should stop. Her eyes slowly fluttered closed, causing her eyelids to become full screens. Venable could picture Billie Dean perfectly, could feel her lips against her neck claiming her… would she even mind? Being claimed by Billie Dean? I would want everyone to know. The thought scared Wilhemina. She sighed. The hand on her center applied a bit more pressure, and her hips chanted up again. “Oh…” Her eyes squeezed closed, tongue wetting her lips. Venable guided her other hand underneath her blouse, nails brushing her ribs. Billie’s nails were longer than hers, so Venable applied more pressure. Her nipples peeked out. Is this how she’d feel? Her fingertips brushed on the lower fat of one of her breasts, and as she was about to close her palm against it, the vibration of her phone brought Wilhemina back to reality. Brown eyes snapped open. She pulled both hands away and sat up on the bed, breath already a little labored. With somewhat shaky hands, Venable reached for her phone; her eyes opened a little more when she read Billie Dean’s name on it. Swiftly, she clicked on the notification: ’I got home safely. Did you? Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.’ The words were so cold, so dry. Wilhemina read it again just to be sure. She’s mad at me. Venable felt so fucking guilty for having scheduled that damn lunch with Emma on Saturday; what would have happened if she had stayed home? Would her and Billie Dean be in that situation? But also… why were they in that situation in the first place? Wilhemina hadn’t done anything wrong, so why did she feel like she had? And why did she feel so guilty? This is exhausting. In a gush of annoyance at her own turmoil, Venable began to type: ’Are you mad at me? What have I done? Is it because of Saturday? Can you please just tell me what I’ve done, Goddamnit?! Can you please talk to me like you used to? Have I ruined our friendship already? Is it something I said? Is it my work? Is it because I’m so damn confused? You confuse me, Billie Dean! You confuse me because you make me feel things I don’t know how to deal with! You make me feel hopeful and fucking frightened at the same time! You make me feel like I’m worth it while I know I’m not! You make me… you make me feel… you make me feel loved.’ As soon as the last word was typed, Wilhemina deleted everything and threw her phone back on the bedside table. Her heart had sped up, and her mouth had gone dry. Is this true? Love… when had Wilhemina ever felt loved? Is this how it feels like? That was too much, and Billie Dean clearly didn’t love her. Not like that. Not like she wished she did. Brown eyes grew misty at the realization. Am I falling for her?
 Tuesday Morning arrived sooner than Billie Dean wished it had. She got to work as she usually did, and when her heels began to clack on the marble and take her to her office, she couldn’t help but notice how serious Wilhemina’s face was, eyes behind the computer already and fingers working on the keyboard. She was the only one who had arrived yet. She got here really early to have started working already. Billie Dean walked past Venable, half expecting a ‘hello’ and half hoping to be ignored; Venable seemed to not even flinch. Weird. Billie followed the hall, getting into her office and placing her things on the table. How funny was it, that when Billie Dean got acknowledged by Venable, she didn’t like it, but when she weren’t, she liked it even less. Can I just make up my mind already? Feelings were confusing; they were exhausting and they often dragged you to corners you didn’t want to be at. Taking a seat on her chair, Billie reached to check her phone. Wilhemina never answered me. Was her distancing already working? Billie Dean nibbled on her lower lip. While yes, that had been the goal, it still felt… upsetting. She’s letting it go so easily… Billie couldn’t help but feel like the universe was telling her something. With a sigh, she got to work.
 The whole morning went by before Wilhemina as much as looked away from her computer. She had been too focused on work, desperately pushing her racing thoughts aside. Emma had brought her some coffee earlier; Venable thanked her, but didn’t gave her any room for intimacy. When everyone began getting up to go have lunch, Wilhemina reluctantly closed her MacBook. Emma already approached her. “I thought we could have lunch all together, today,” she said sweetly.
“I’ll just eat at the office.”
“Oh—“ Emma shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “I’ll stay with you.”
Venable shook her head. She was glad Emma seemed to want to join the others for lunch, for Wilhemina had no mind to have lunch with anyone right now. She needed to be alone, and she needed her thoughts to sort themselves out. “You go enjoy your lunch. I don’t feel my best.” She held herself not to sound too harsh.
“Are you sure?” Discretely, Emma reached to caress one of Venable’s hands. It didn’t feel good whatsoever. “Can I do anything to help?”
“I’m positive.” Wilhemina forced herself not to pull her hand away. “I’m just tired.”
It was hesitant, but Emma let out a nod. “Okay.” She squeezed Venable’s hand. “I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.” Offering Emma half a smile, Venable watched as she left, laughing and talking with the other employees. Silence soon filled the room. Wilhemina leaned back on her chair and let out a sigh, eyes closing. I don’t want to deal with my thoughts. Venable rarely ever had an easy time with her head, but the degrading thoughts had become familiar, and thus easier to handle; at this point, they felt like default. But the thoughts she had now… those weren’t something she knew how to deal with. How does one simply manage to not get confused by Billie Dean? It was a mystery to her. With a sigh, Wilhemina got up and followed to the kitchen; thankfully, Billie didn’t seem to be there. She reached for a container of food, humming as she opened it and saw it was pork with rice and a salad. After grabbing her mug and filling it with water, Venable sat down to eat. The silence was pleasant, but it gave more room for her thoughts to wander. And fuck, why were Billie Dean’s initials everywhere? Even her own mug was a constant reminder of her turmoil. Dark brown eyes looked over the kitchen, taking in the details as she appreciated the delicious taste of such high quality meat. Was Billie Dean the one to arrange every single thing so beautifully? So cohesive? Some time ago, Wilhemina would have doubted Billie would actually have taken the time to pay attention to these details, but knowing her how she did, now, Venable could almost picture the frown on her face as she chose the beautiful marble and struggled to make it work with the coral aesthetic of everything else. Wilhemina reached for her mug to take a sip, and her sight moved to the more secluded balcony there. Instantly, her eyes opened up; she could see, right in the corner and almost disappearing, the way blonde locks moved with the wind. Her body got rigid, and her eyes kept glued on the balcony, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever she could. Is she smoking? The question was instantly answered when Venable saw, still by the small gap, a hand with coral adorned nails reaching to place the remaining of the cigarette in an ashtray. And then the sound of a door sliding filled the quiet room, shortly followed by Floratta Blue.
Billie Dean wetted her lips as she stepped into the kitchen, mind on the food she was about to eat. When her eyes moved up and she saw Wilhemina, however, her heart skipped a beat. She stopped for a moment. Shit.
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