#(at worst I was annoying but I'm also young enough to get away with it)

[pensat-i-fet]

See? That clip of el Chiringuito trying to defend Asencio has annoyed me and so I'll spread information to compensate for their attempt at spreading misinformation…once again. I'm so tired of their lies.

They say in that awful TV show whose presenter bullies the young journalists who do internships there (there's a trial about it going on) that the Mallorca players are bad people for telling Asencio about the crimes he committed. They never said the players who committed the crimes were bad. They only mention this to play the victim, of course. These are the people trying to say that saying “balón de playa” (beach ball) to Vinicius is a hate crime. Filming underage girls without their consent is fine, though. Boys will be boys, you know.

Four judges, FOUR, have said that there's enough proof to say that Asencio distributed the videos that include sexual content that the victims did not allow to be filmed and/or be distributed. Plus one of the victims being underage means he's accused of distributing child pornography. According to el Chiringuito, he didn't do that…he just asked for the video. I'm no lawyer but even I know that asking to be sent a video that contains what the law classifies as child pornography is a crime. That having that video in his possession is a crime. So basically they said “he didn't commit the crime the Mallorca players (and four judges) said he committed…he committed another one”. Just a silly young boy who wanted to see his friends having sex with girls. And if you think the first team players didn't receive that video, you're very naive.

But also, a newspaper posted some of the messages from group chats that the players exchanged with friends, which included Asencio. In these messages, one of them said about the 16 year-old girl that she was “so young and she's already such a whore”. Husband material, ladies. They also kept saying “viva el fútbol” because they knew being footballers meant the chances of them getting away with it were even higher than for other men who do similar things. I won't repeat the worst messages because the content can be too much for some.

Also, the victim who was 18 talked anonymously to a newspaper to mention that Real Madrid tried to get her to drop the charges. Because nothing says “my players are innocent” like trying to blackmail the victims, am I right?

So a big fuck you to el Chiringuito and anyone defending Asencio and the other players in an active or passive way (pretending the problem doesn't exists is the same as defending the criminals).

[erudipitous]

I'm trying so hard not to obsess over every social interaction I had last weekend

[dissociacrip]

this turned into a long adhd rant whoopsie

it really does suck how people seem to downplay autism and adhd now lol. autism has been reduced to people who can mask and have low support needs and adhd hasn't really changed from its status as a joke.

i don't talk about adhd much but it probably gets in the way of me being able to function just as much, if not more than autism does (in my personal situation) when it comes to mental disability. not showering enough. not cooking. not cleaning my living space properly. forgetting to brush my teeth. dishes sitting in the sink for so long they start getting moldy. only being able to maybe do 1-3 tasks a day maximum because my brain can't organize itself enough to do more than that. difficulty committing to things and being consistent in overarching ways. being late to things a lot. highly impaired verbal recall so i forget things people say to me, forget verbal instructions, etc. on top of the other acutely stressful situations that come with memory and regulating my attention span (e.g. locking my keys in my car or locking myself out of my house when i have a very limited support network to remediate those situations.)

my meds barely touch this stuff for me and i'm not especially inclined to increase the dosage after bordering on psychosis when i was taking 40mg of vyvanse. i've just become so accustomed to living the way that i do (because my case is pretty bad afaik) so i can't just will myself to be another way. any efforts i make to change or be more organized and routine and consistent end up getting dashed away because i just cannot do it lol. my shit just doesn't work. adhd is a massive barrier between me and being a functioning person or being able to take care of myself. i'm pretty sure would still be a "gross" and unpalatable disabled person even if my muscles worked and i didn't have POTS/etc. that also get in the way of my hygiene and the cleanliness of my living space.

that doesn't even go into how other people react to it. a good chunk of physical and verbal abuse i faced from my family as a child was related to my adhd symptoms. i was diagnosed at a young age but my parents "forgot" it happened and it was never addressed otherwise. i got constantly called disgusting for my hygiene problems and was threatened with violence over it (on top of the times where i was actually getting assaulted.) people take my impaired verbal recall and lack of impulse control irt accidentally cutting people off or interrupting them personally, accusing me of not caring enough when it's something that is extremely difficult to be aware of or manage when adhd is a condition that distinctly involves impaired awareness of your own behavior.

so when i see shit like "just set alarms" or anything else that amounts to "you're not trying hard enough" or adhd not very much being a disability, especially when it's coming from other people w/ adhd, it kinda makes me wanna stab things with knives.

sure, it's not the worst condition ever, but just like most other disabilities, the way it affects everyone who is it is different and some are gonna be able to manage it better than others. sure, there a lot of really fucking annoying people (usually able-bodied) w/ adhd on social media that have large platforms and who very often profit from or encourage liberal pop psych bullshit when it comes to adhd, but it's still very much a disability. it can affect hygiene. it can affect employment or otherwise means of earning an income. it can affect our social lives and whether we have a support system. it can affect whether someone can keep their house from getting infested with bugs or mold. it is very much something that causes dysfunction in ways that aren't nearly as cutesy as the little comics you might see on instagram are drawn.

just remember that.

[crusherthedoctor]

💜🤍🖤💖

💜: Which character is way hotter than everyone else seems to think?

mfw I'm Guptill89. He was too based for his time.

Anyway, to be a little more... let's say tactful, I think Elise has a pleasant design that was simply let down by '06's in-game cutscene models. Shahra has a pretty design too, but I've never seen anyone mock hers compared to Elise. If we're counting NPCs as well, I like Hualin's design too.

In general, I think a lot of the game character designs manage to be very aesthetically pleasing... with some exceptions like Silver. Whether they're going for awesome or cute, they're usually nice. :> This is why I get really annoyed when people go "nah, these designs suck, let's make Sonic a real hedgehog and give Rouge a realistic bat face", as if they learned nothing from the original Sonic movie design.

🤍: Which character is not as morally bad as everyone else seems to think?

Already answered this, but I've got another one: Mario.

It's not as common nowadays, but for a long time, Mario got demonized up the ass and was constantly painted as the true villain. This would usually come in the form of being an abusive brother to Luigi (despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary), or oppressing poor innocent Bowser (ignore all the things he's done pls).

🖤: Which character is not as morally good as everyone else seems to think?

You guessed it, it's Eggman.

"He's not so bad deep down" No he isn't.

"He wants to avenge Gerald" No he doesn't.

"He likes Sonic" Respects him as an opponent, hates the shit out of him as a person and would still gladly kill him without regret. Game Eggman is not Boom/X Eggman.

"He doesn't want the world to be destroyed" Because he can't conquer it if it's not there, and as shown with the Bad Futures in CD, he doesn't care what potential dire state the environments and their inhabitants are in as long as they serve him, with the only exception being his own personal quarters (ie: Metropolis in Forces). Not exactly signs of an altruistic person with good intentions at heart.

"He hasn't done anything seriously terrible like the other villains" Sure, if you ignore the time he fired a missile in a populated city. Or the time he enslaved an innocent alien race. Or the time he showed absolutely no moral grievances over Infinite's sadistic antics and only punished him for being a fuck up. Or the time he broke the planet into pieces... twice. I'm sure his repeated attempts to kill children as young as Cream can also be handwaved away.

Eggman is every bit as messed up as Black Doom, Erazor Djinn, etc. Him acting goofy and some (key word: some) of his actions being presented in a semi-comedic light should not invalidate that, especially when Surge - the so-called Forces game changer according to Evan Stanley - lost to a Motobug and tripped over some bolts.

💖: What is your biggest unpopular opinion about the series?

"All of them" might as well be my catchphrase with how many times I've said it.

I'm serious though, it really does seem that I'm destined to be at odds with the rest of the fandom on virtually everything now. I absolutely hate it. It is not fun in the slightest. You wanna know why I was so happy to join in on all the Vivian gushing when the TTYD remake came out, aside from already loving Vivian as a character anyway? Because I was starting to forget what it was like to actually be on the same wavelength as the majority of a fandom on anything. That's how monumentally unlucky I am with my Sonic preferences.

The characters who are super popular tend to be the ones I'm either indifferent to or straight up dislike, while the ones I vibe towards tend to be largely ignored (Ariem) or criticised for *checks notes* not being reptilian enough (Trip). The most recent games (and comic) that prove We Are So Back are the ones I can't stand, while the ones that actually had my investment are either ignored or placed alongside Colours and Forces as the new Worst Sonic Game of All Time for the heinous crime of having some flaws, by people who unironically white knight '06. There's also the neverending fandom push for Sonamy and all the attention it receives, whereas I remain unconvinced by its alleged chemistry more than ever. And of course, you can compare how I see Eggman VS how the rest of the fandom sees him.

I used to think my fandom status was a tragedy. But now I realise... it's a comedy. *puts on Sonudis facepaint*

[insufferableprotagonistpoll]

Round 2

Propaganda why Marinette Dupain-Cheng is insufferable:

"shes annoyinng anf shes a stalker"

"I love fanon miraculous but by god she has got to stop obsessively stalking her crush and generally making a ton of other terrible decisions. I’d submit Adrien too but he’s more of a deuteragonist"

"I started the show, watched one episode, and never tried again. I simply do not vibe with her."

"I get she has social anxiety but the way she goes about stalking Adrien is kind of the worst like she even has creep shots of him hanging in her room? That’s weird. I think Adrien’s going through enough without having to deal with the main character being his stalker lol. I know they’re (spoilers) at this point but in the beginning it was so sus"

"In the newest season, Marinette hides the fact that Hawkmoth was Adrien’s dad. This leads to the bastard getting a statue and honored as a hero after his death. Adrien now never gets to know the fact that his abusive and neglectful father was the one trying to kill him and is instead proud of him."

"Her crush on Adrien is like a black hole for her character. Things she’s done because of it:

1) stolen property

2) ruined dates

3) humiliated other characters

4) has a chart of Adrien’s daily schedule for the next year in her room (this is stalking)

5) broke into his room and sniffed his pillow (also a crime)

6) sniffed, took the hair from, and tried to kiss what she thought was a wax statue of Adrien

7) convinced her parents to let her go to China. Why? Not because she wants to connect with her mother’s heritage, not even because she’s a budding fashion designer and Shanghai is considered a fashion hotspot. It’s because Adrien was there."

"She easily gets away with bad, stalkerish behavior, it always feels like she can ‘do no wrong’ unless the show wants us to pity her, and the show writers want us to think she is a quirky and socially awkward girl when throughout the series we see her be friends with basically everyone in Paris with many connections to high up places."

"Listen, if Adrien's here, she needs to be too. I like her, but from the odd stalker-ish behaviour, to straight up lying to adrien and telling him that his abusive father was actually a 'very good person, a hero even and not the main villain of the series I promise', there's no way she doesn't deserve to be in the polls."

Propaganda why Quentin Coldwater is insufferable:

"Quentin is the epitome of self important, entitled young men who think it's okay for their actions to have consequences for other people because he's smarter than them. He's constantly letting his friends (especially the female characters!) take the brunt of his bad decisions (end of the first book, I'm looking at you.) Every time something he does comes back to bite home he goes all "surprised Pikachu face". And he's nowhere near as smart as he thinks he is. Ugh."

"I hated this man so much I stopped reading an otherwise engaging book. I don't even remember all the reasons I just found him so infuriating that my hate for him survived multiple years."

"Affluent white kid, wants desperately to be in Narnia as his only ambition in life, stares at the boobs of nearby women, thinks people without magic are living empty lives even though he's desperately depressed and rudderless with it, cheats on his girlfriend for literally no reason. Also, incel vibes."

"He's a very Depressed White Sadboy about everything. He's got a very asshole attitude towards women especially, and tbh I don't really feel like it gets better, not even by book 3 (the way he "rescues" Alice and forces her to be human again by trying to like. Maker her love him. Was annoying and skeevy. This reddit thread sums it up well: https://www.reddit.com/r/Fantasy/s/HlZU4Rb0UG"

[shenrickyz]

seojun the lovesick fool (ft. nct dream)

oh seojun is so in love it's disgusting | when?: nct dream smoothie studio choom behind

"i think that's enough photos, seojunie".

just as those words are said, seojun snaps another photo with camera in his hands. the 02 liner looks up and blinks at na jaemin, who simply gives a teasing smile. "did i get carried away?" he asks obliviously.

"carried away taking photos of jisung maybe".

seojun gasps in offense at the statement. yeah it's true but who is donghyuck to tell him that? he narrows his eyes at his older member, readying his defense for the day. "i was not! it's not my fault he looks exceptionally pretty in every photo and that the camera kept focusing on him!"

"i think that's one of your worst excuses".

seojun's eras redden, and he frowns slightly at the laughs which sound from his fellow members. jaemin throws an arm around him, giving another teasing smile. "you two are so cute! i can't believe it! young love blossoming at it's finest!"

"what are you talking about?" renjun questions judgmentally, looking jaemin up and down.

"he's crazy".

"not as crazy as seojun is for jisu—"

"stop!" seojun whines, his face probably redder than it ever has been in his life. he uses his hands to cover his red face, and jaemin giggles in victory. "this is embarrassing.." he mutters into his own hands, trying his best not to make eye contact with any of his members.

"it's not! nothing's embarrassing about being in love!"

seojun gently pushes jaemin away from him, trying his best to ignore the older's teasings and focusing on the many photos he'd taken on the camera. of course, most of them were focused on jisung. he's pretty, okay? can you blame seojun for taking so many pictures of him?

"jisung looks so pretty here.."

"yah, chenle is in the photos too" jeno scolds playfully, nudging him in the shoulder. seojun blinks, and laughs silently.

"i know! i didn't say chenle wasn't pretty jisung is just.. i'm not explaining it to you!"

"seojun is picking favorites!"

"i am not you guys always say this—!"

as seojun was busy trying to clear his name to his older members, jisung finally turns around to see what the yelling is all about, coming across a red faced seojun whose arguing with jeno and jaemin about.. something. he laughs lightly at the sight, because seojun is trying so hard to get his point across.

"so how did the photos turn out?"

"ah! oh my god you have to stop doing that!" the maknae allows for himself to giggle at seojun's newly startled expression. "seriously, jisung".

"okay okay i'm sorry" jisung hides his giggle behind his hand, laughing even harder at the frown from the older. "ignoring that, the photos, how did they turn out?"

seojun quickly looks back down at the camera in his hands, then looks back at jisung with a smile. "they turned out nice, you looked so pretty in all of them.."

the formerly giggling jisung is quickly reduced to a blushing, stuttering mess as he tries his best to register the other's words. the two are left awkwardly staring at each other for a moment, flustered out of their mind, but seojun breaks the silence by laughing lightly. "what? why are you so silent?"

"you're so— you're so annoying" jisung mutters under his breath, arms crossed and cheeks dusted red.

seojun pokes his cheek, and the youngest pretends to be annoyed by the gesture. "and you are so cute".

"that's not fair".

"um.. yes it is! you can't argue with me, i'm older, so i'm right".

"that is also not fai— hiki tell seojun he's wrong!"

"i am not wrong! you're wrong!"

and just like that, the lovebirds begin arguing. what are they arguing about exactly? the rest of the dreamies have absolutely no idea, but they're equally as flustered as the other.

"ah, young love" jaemin muses humorously, smiling proudly at the sight of the two. renjun, again, gives him another judgmental look, nudging him lightly.

"you're acting like you raised them".

"um because i literally did? i'm the only reason they're even together!"

"that's more of a bad thing than a good thing right now.."

jaemin lets out a snicker, listening to the two youngest argue over something unintelligible as jeno rolls his eyes at their stupid shouting.

[laeliana]

Artemis Fowl Tag

Stolen from @tengirl, since the blog appears to be deleted I cannot repost it directly, so I copied and pasted it:

so, i made an artemis fowl tag forever ago on my old blog & thought i’d made a new & improved version! feel free to tag some peeps who might want to do this too, if ya want. without further ado, the artemis fowl tag 2.0!

1) who’s your favorite character & why?

2) what’s one of your favorite scenes in the books?

3) if you could be any species of fairy, which one would you be?

4) do you read af fic? if so, drop one of your favorites!

5) give your ranking of the books from best to worst!

6) if you could say anything to any of the characters, what would it be?

7) if your comfortable w it, share one of your favorite headcanons about the series <3

8) what’s one thing that you would change about the series?

9) if we’re not counting book one artemis, who’s your favorite villain & why?

10) how did you get into the series/when did you first read it?

1) Artemis and Minerva. I mean, everybody loves Artemis and we all know why, so I'm gonna spend a couple of words on Min. I find amazing the idea of another genius who is a foil of what Artemis could've been was he born in a more normal family. I think most of the problems Artemis has stem from his family, so having Minerva could've helped him realize he could still be a genius, but different, less reliant on his mother and his father. Sad thing she disappeared (Fowl Twins does not exist).

2) I think Butler and the troll. One of the best fight scenes I've ever read, period.

3) But I don't want to, I like being human ç ç

4) Hell yes. altus, alti by @pokegeek151, Artemis Experiments Weird by @eldewinddolly, Different by Opal Roseblossom, All in an Instant and Before by NovaWasTaken, The Face I Wear by @piscespixiewastaken, The Truth About Santa by ArtysSexKitten

5) Artemis Fowl - The Opal Deception - The Lost Colony - The Arctic Incident - The Atlantis Complex - The Eternity Code - The Time Paradox - The Last Guardian

6)

to Artemis: by the love of God GO GET MINERVA, SHE'S THE ONE (everything else I would like Artemis to do will cascade down from that)

to Holly: stop thinking Artemis is something different from what he is. You're only gonna hurt yourself.

To Butler: I'd like to say him "Relax, your charge will do fine", but it'd be a lie :D

To Foaly: get down your pedestal and realize there are others that are just as smart or smarter than you. It's a lot less hurtful than realize it after they've tricked you

To Angeline and Artemis Sr: you owe everything to your son, so leave him be. He'll be himself his own way, not everyone else

To Minerva: go slap some sense into Artemis. You're prolly the only one smart enough to do that.

To the People as whole: you're no better than Mud Men, deal with it.

7) easy: Artemis and Minerva stood in close contact (be them friends or lovers, it doesn't matter), because there's no way Artemis finds the only one person that could stand toe to toe with him in a scientific debate and then forgets about her. It would be like for us to discover for the first time that fandoms exists and that there are other people that share our interests.

8) As you could very well understand at this point, more Minerva (I'm working on that). But also Artemis moving away from his family and Holly staying well away from the LEP. Also I'd rewrite the entire interactions of TAC because come on, that's not how you deal with someone with mental illness. Also I generally think that latter books suffer from too many villains, and one of them per book (Minerva, Young Artemis, the Complex) would be more than enough and would have its time to shine. Also, enough of Opal.

9) Again, Minerva (don't know if t counts, and I've already annoyed you more than enough with her) and baby Artemis from TTP, I think the juxtaposition between him and his older self is one thing I really like from TTP. ANother thing I'd change is dump the entire Extinctionist and Opal subplots, and let yong Artemis be the only villain of TTP. He desperate for the money to save his father, and his older self desperate for the lemur to save his mother. Let them clash.

10) Who even remembers lol? It must've been more than twenty years ago

[00lari00]

An unexpected phone call (Part 1)

Hello!!! ^^ This story may be a little heavy and sad for some readers because it involves issues such as abandonment and family problems. Some of these things are actually things that my mother has said to me, so this is a bit of a… real event (I am okay now!).

But I hope you like my fic!!! It's the first time I've posted a story like this!!! If you find any grammatical mistakes I apologize!!! I'm doing my best since English isn't my first language.

Characters used:

The intellect trio (Burt, Sven and Pollo) are characters from THSC but from the version of @capturecharlesau and Danny (mentioned) also belongs to her

Brutus belongs to @smoresthehalloweenqueen

A phone rang in the middle of the experiments that Burt and Pollo were doing with Brutus. They were in the clan laboratory, Pollo, Burt and Sven were always there working and building things as usual for the Toppats. It's as if they grew up there, at least that's how it was for Pollo. The laboratory is very large with many boxes and machines spread around, other members of the clan also use the place sometimes but the trio were the ones who were there the most. Brutus is sitting on a stretcher while Pollo and Burt were doing some scientific experiments with him, studying and analyzing, this was a normal thing for them.

Obviously at this point in the tests they wouldn't want to be disturbed, but the phone kept ringing, it was Pollo's phone.

Someone calling him at that moment? Why? 

"Can you see who's calling, Brutus? I have to put some stuff away" Pollo said as he put some medical equipment and chemical flasks away with Burt. Brutus got up to get the cell phone and check who it might be; there were three missed calls from an unknown number. Pollo and Burt seemed visibly annoyed that they had to stop the tests.

"Damn... We were almost at the best part" said Burt, putting the scalpel away. 

After Brutus has analyzed a bit, he picks up the phone, expecting it to be someone selling something and that he could just ignore it later.

A desperate but serious female voice spoke on the other side of the phone, she had an accent, it seems that English is not her first language, but she made a great effort to speak in English.

"Hello, could I speak to someone called Pollo Miller?"

Brutus was visibly confused, someone wanting to talk to his cousin. It didn't sound like anyone he knew, there was something wrong. "Primo... someone wants to talk to you" he said as he handed the cell phone to his cousin, without questioning anything.

The young scientist didn't seem interested in whatever this call was about, at least his face didn't show any emotion as usual. He picked up his cell phone and spoke in the same disinterested and unconcerned tone as always. 

"Hello?" Pollo said into the phone, waiting for an answer.

"Pollo my dear... Is that you?" The female voice spoke with a sad and desperate tone. 

"Who is this?" 

"Pollo, it's me. Your mother, your... Your father is dying" 

Time stopped for Pollo. 

Pollo had expected anything but that, there was no way it could be true, he didn't want to believe it was her. The only thing Pollo could do in this moment of shock was whisper to himself, "M-mom...?", enough for Brutus at least to understand the situation and he looks at the scientist with concern, it seems to have come as a shock to his cousin. He, who had always known exactly what to do and was in control of everything in any situation... Now he knew nothing at all. It's VERY rare to see Pollo in this state.

After so long... After saying the worst things to him; "You're not my son anymore and I'm no longer your mother" and kicking him out of the house just because he wanted to follow his dream career of becoming a famous scientist; "Do you really want to help other people first rather than your own family?! Don't you like us too?! Why do you have to be so unfair to us?!". She put him as a traitor to his family and didn't even try to look for him when he was kidnapped by Terrence. She called him "Ungrateful" or "Insensitive" when he wanted to live his own life, and was NEVER satisfied with what he did... She was too proud to admit she was wrong. He hadn't seen or spoken to her for years because he'd been thrown out of the house.

She came back... and seemed desperate for help.

"Pollo? Who is it? Are you alright?" Burt asked with a confused but also worried expression, why his friend seemed so shocked so suddenly? He wasn't saying anything. Pollo stayed quiet until he snapped out of his thoughts and spoke quickly to Brutus and Burt. "I'll be right back, I need a moment."

He said, quickly leaving with his cell phone to an empty room with no one around, so that no one would be able to hear his conversation.

Brutus and Burt look at each other, both agreeing that something odd has just happened. Better stop the experiments for today.

----------------------------------------------------------

40 minutes of Pollo's cell phone conversation with his mother. 

Brutus outside the room didn't dare interfere or listen to any part of the conversation. He knew it was too personal for Pollo... The scientist left the room visibly devastated, looking angry but also very... Sad, he'd heard things he didn't want to hear. And it looked like he was going somewhere, he put his cell phone in his pocket and walked past his cousin as if he hadn't even seen him there, he didn't want to care or see anything around him, and he picked up the teleporter on the table and put some coordinates into the device.

Brutus hurried over to him, wanting to know what had happened, coming up behind him and grabbing Pollo's shoulder. "Primo? Where are you going? Why did your mother call...?"

He asked, expecting Pollo to give him a straight answer. 

But Pollo immediately pulls away and pushes Brutus's arm, looking as if he almost wants to cry and trying to control it. Pollo obviously wants to feel in control of the situation, even when he's not. Emotions have always been a problem for him, he's never known how to control them and it makes him panic. He grew up like that... not speaking about what he was feeling. He takes a deep breath, not wanting to tell the truth. "Nothing happened... I'm going out for a while to take care of an unfinished business about my past..."; He said as he typed a few things into the device, in a rough and frustrated voice.

"But alone?!"

"Yes, it's none of your business, and PLEASE... Just please... Don't tell Danny where I'm going, I don't want him to worry about me for anything... I don't want him to know that I'm going to see my biological mother because I don't want to see him be devastated and think negative things...I just want to protect him from this headache...

don't you dare follow me... For once do what I ask for once. I don't want anyone to worry about me... there's nothing to worry about. I just... can't take it anymore." 

He immediately clicks the button on the teleporter, and with a flash of green light, he suddenly disappears without even looking into Brutus' eyes.

[nerves-nebula]

Thinking abt alternate time line Leo

Abt how the abuse became so much worse after the others got away

Or maybe just more noticeable?

Reminds me of how I thought I wasn’t neglected, just poor, until I was the last one left. Half my siblings ran away, the other moved for school. My parents had gotten promotions, raises and even better jobs since when I was little. I didn’t ask for much, aside from having a part time job by then I also just never asked for stuff, wanted or needed. Yet we were suddenly running out of food in our fridge, suddenly they weren’t paying for the one field trip they always set aside money for, suddenly I was getting a winter coat as my only Christmas present instead of as a necessary expense at the beginning of winter since I didn’t have one

We couldn’t see the neglect bc the worst of it was mitigated by our siblings. But when they were gone and things should’ve gotten better (by our parent’s logic) it got so much worse

I didn’t ask for much so I got nothing

Leo followed the rules so he got broken

I didn’t ask for much so I got nothing

um ow haha same ow ow ow. so like why would u do this to me.

no but fr. I ALSO learned that being quiet and obedient and trying to make ur parents lives easier by not being a burden is how you get NOTHING EVER and grow BITTER about it and end up so severely emotionally neglected that no normal relationship ever feels like enough. but then again im young so, there's still time. no need to be defeatist about it i suppose!

but yeah idk it's like. guh. idk. it's not exactly the same on my end but it was always weird that even once she had less and less kids to support things never seemed to get better around our house, like, physically. even though mom worked just as much as always. i thought it was cuz of like The Economy and Money Being Hard but now im not so sure.

and it certainly was strange that despite there being half as many kids at home she didn't make any more of an effort to like. spend time with the ones who still had, heff.

then again this is a woman who's so uninterested in her kids lives outside of what they can do for her, that she just kind of let one of her kids be homeless for a few years. she also doesn't know where I live (this was intentional on my part) but she isn't really concerned about that??? at most she's annoyed I don't want her knowing where I RESIDE. but it's not like parental concern hah, it's like, indigence that I won't reveal my location to her.

ok now i'm rambling, this is making me feel things :')

[adickaboutspoons]

book emoji! (sorry i'm on desktop) (also sorry for stalking your inbox today haha hope you're well, have a lovely weekend! <3)

Technically a WIP since I have about 3.5K words written about it already, but it's been sitting there for... a while now. This is another banger from the Stede Bonnet Defense Squad late night collective storytelling files, so special thanks to @nicnacsnonsense and @poetic----nonsense for bouncing around ideas on this one with me. I'm just including my bits, though I should point out nicnac was the one to first suggest Ed & CJ as fuck buddies and Papa Bonnet's cost-benefit analysis of ransoming Stede factoring in the arrangements he's been brokering with Mary's parents behind Stede's back.

AU where Young Adult Ed meets Young Adult Stede (when Stede is down daydreaming at the docks) and decides to take him hostage and convince Hornigold to hold him for ransom. Ed is in charge of guarding the prisoner while Hornigold starts the process of negotiating. Stede is chatty in the brig. Wants to know all about the kinds of knots that have been used to tie him up, and how long Ed has been at sea and how he got his start and just all sorts of things. Ed is low-key annoyed to have been given this duty and kind of gruff about it, but kind of won over eventually by Stede's enthusiasm and also is shocked that Stede kind of doesn't WANT to go back to his cushy life. And by the way he gets all quiet and sad when Ed says that Hornigold's negotiating with his dad, because he's pretty sure his father would rather start from scratch trying to produce a new heir than bother trying to get Stede back.

And just when Ed and Stede are really starting to bond, CJ shows up, and Stede is like ugh. It's hate at first sight for the two of them, sniping and bickering and abuse and the hey-hey.

Ed & CJ are fuck buddies, and, CJ, consumate reader-of-rooms can see that Stede likes Ed, and worse, that Ed likes Stede. And that in spite of his best (worst) efforst, the two of them keep growing closer and closer.

Stede is asleep at first when CJ comes to seduce Ed. Part of CJ's wheedling is because Ed tries to say they can't "because of the prisoner" and CJ says that he's gonna have to learn about the birds and the bees soon anyway if he's gonna get married (because he knows that's a sore spot for Ed, who is aware of the negotiations enough to know that a big motivator for Papa Bonnet is that he's already started brokering Stede's arranged marriage). (CJ's extra loud and obnoxious about going to town on Ed, too, so Stede can't even block it out, even closing his eyes and covering his ears.) That's the first Stede hears about anything to do with him and marriage. Stede doesn't find out it's a done deal until Ed jealously brings up Mary when Stede is trying to talk to him about how he deserves better than CJ. And Stede is not only crushed that this is the only reason his father is bothering to negotiate for him, he also thinks Ed was purposely hiding it from him and that he and CJ have been laughing at him behind his back.

Eventually negotiations wrap and Stede is supposed to go back to his father. And Stede is trying to be all stoic and dutiful, but Ed hears him crying (and berating himself for crying) when he thinks that Ed is asleep. And Ed is rowing him back, and is all "what if I didn't row you back? What if I just keep rowing? What if we run away?"

And Stede wants to, more than anything, but CJ snuck down one time when Ed was relieved of duty, and "casually" mentioned how Ed is already on thin ice with Hornigold (he's not. he's actively being groomed to take captaincy of the next ship they capture), and Hornigold just needs the slightest provocation to kill Ed in some very exciting and creatively awful ways. And he doesn't want to be the cause of bringing Hornigold's wrath down on Ed's head. So he says no.

There's an exciting third act, but I'm not the one who came up with it, so I'll just leave it there.

[sageandred]

* jotting down some thoughts from old wtFock, seasons 1-3 .... (part 1)

1. Jana

Pros- Jana + Robbe (Belgium Eva + Isak); Girlsquad minus Amber; Zoe + Jana/Zoe + Yasmina/Luca + Yasmina; the first appearance of Senne/Senne + Zoe scenes

Cons- Jana + Jens (Belgium Eva + Jonas), lol

*couldn't remember anything from this og season and the first few eps were fun, then I got annoyed at how the main couple story seemed to drag on; overall it was average-i don't think they changed much and the story was fine, but nothing really blew me away

2. Zoe

*I don't remember much from this og season (gonna be honest, before this, I don't think I finished Noora's season ever, because I can't stand William, lol, and I didn't realize until now).

Pros- Senne feels like a more likeable version of William to me [basing even off of the earlier episodes before both Senne/William's development]. (+ Senne at the beginning of wtFOCK is even still better than William at the end of Skam OG).

Cons- I LOVE Zoe + Senne, but the early ep conflict of her going on a date with him and being in denial is honestly so stupid. It seems like such a simple issue in the world of Skam in comparison to the other seasons for every reimagination. (But I know the later conflicts are gonna break me).

More in depth appreciation of Senne and Zoe

Senne: There were only a few moments in season 1 + early season 2 where I questioned him, but there's just charm and development to Senne that fleshes him out and actually made me love this couple by the end. They don't water down parts of "Senne" that are truly important to his whole "bad boy" personality-like later on (s3) his instinctual crutch of violence towards his brother or his smart-ass comments in season 1, but they also don't make him just a terrible boyfriend like og.

Zoe: could throw water in someone's face for no reason and I would still love her (I'm watching s4 rn although she doesn't do that, so this is kind of in line). She's not perfect and a lot of her push-back with Senne (mainly) can be really unreasonable, but that's what makes her her. I feel like she comes off as more stubborn than og Noora, but I honestly love it and there's subtle changes to her characterization that back it up. She's one of the most headstrong Nooras (obv all of them have this trait), and she's someone that is gonna move in a way that seems proactive to her (ex: her taking the plan B pill before even knowing what happened to her). The only minor thing I thought at one point is that we didn't get enough of Zoe's perspective on things (there are a lot of characters and it's great to see them, but sometimes certain interactions felt it took away in some way, idk). She was just a character I knew I would love immediately in season 1 [& she's great, but as I go on, I do think the writers kind of diminish her potential in some way (even certain choices in s2), but idk how to explain it-although it doesn't ruin her character at all for me, there's just minor minor differences than how she seemed].

Zoenne: I love how they are so different in their points of view; they each are strong in their opinions and it's not resolved too quickly. I honestly see both povs, which is how it should be. And in season 3, I wasn't even mad at the break up (even though it didn't last long)-they are the only Noorhelm imo to address the problem between them (with them being so young + why love's not enough), not make it the end of the world, and still get back together at a later time.

wtFOCK likes to dramatize a lot of their scenes, but for me it works in Zoe's season.

Examples: 1) the text from Senne's brother at the end of the episode revealing the pictures he took per the glass drop; 2) the Senne finds out scene I felt was better directed and acted than the og scene, giving a more emotional feel and lead up to the hallway confrontation in ep 10

other things: Amber is one of the worst Vildes in terms of ignorance, however they've done well with her development and not resolving her problems too quickly [I just know I'll eat my words come season 4/5]. Her seemingly heightened naivety against the other "Vildes" makes so much sense in this scenario.

2 is definitely my fav wtFock season

...not sure I'll watch Season 4, cause I know it's gonna piss me off more than Imane's, but maybe I'll continue for Yasmina only

^ update-started it; I hate it

[compassionatereminders]

my sister is really bugging me lately. My dad says that I shouldn't let the way she treats him bug me, but it pisses me the fuck off tbh. She's fourteen and I recognize that that's young and that she's still growing up and she's not an adult, but it still feels like she's old enough to know better than to treat people with complete disrespect. The worst part is that when she gets herself into fights with someone else or causes a new problem or does something rude, she genuinely seems to think she's in the right and if you try to have a conversation she gets pissed off. She's so bad that when my dad went to talk to her a week ago, my eight year old sister literally said "i'm worried about daddy" and when I asked why she said it was because other sister gets in fights a lot and she was scared she was gonna hurt my dad. (She didn't, though she did yell at my dad who has never once hit any of us to hit her because he was confronting her about something she did and I think she wanted an excuse to say she'd call the cops? That's the literal only explanation I can think of, because I've heard her tell her to hit him so she could call the cops before, a few years ago.) Anyway that's not entirely relevant but it's just like she gets mad if someone wont do something for her and acts like no one loves her and I do feel bad for her because I know she's had breakdowns feeling like no one loves her from fights happening or from someone not wanting to be around her or hang out with her but the thing is while I do feel bad, no one owes her their time and when she acts like that, she can't really expect it. Like the eight year old, who she loves to flat out yell at when the eight year old just says something rude, and then defends herself by saying that she should be allowed to defend herself (which is not what anyone is saying when they point it out, we're just pointing out that her full on yelling at an eight year old who is much younger and wasn't screaming at her anyway isn't okay), will walk away from her because she's being rude and 14 year old will start yelling and complain to dad that no one likes her. But I feel like if even my 8 year old sister is realizing to just walk away from the situations instead of engaging because she's just so tired of it, that really says something about the consistency of these things. But anyway, all that said, basically I don't want to be in my sisters life at all (14 year old). Like she has redeeming moments but it's not enough with everything else. The other day she was rude to me and like 40 minutes later when we saw each other again, she said "name, I love you," I guess to move on from it and that's more maturity than she normally has, but I just feel like that's not enough. Like it's reaching out and it's nice but it's sure as hell not an apology or even an admission of guilt and since then she's caused more problems, with me and in general. So yeah I just genuinely don't want to be around her. Like I'm at a point where I'm like, maybe in a few years if she's a better person, I could forge a good relationship with her, but even if she became a million times better over night, being aound her and trying to be super friendly (I can be decently nice just fine even if it's a little annoying when things go unaddressed) right now or any time soon isn't something I want. Like I legitamately don't think she deserves my time and also she just makes me so miserable and I can't really explain this next part but just being around her doesn't FEEL nice even when she's being nice or better (which never last past the first slight disagreement. but even if it did).

But I'm legitamately afraid, too, because I know that most of my other sisters are also at that point with her (I have a lot of sisters, and 2 of them I don't think are done with her, one goes back and forth and the other I think is chill with her but I don't think they talk much) and I know that that adds to her feelings of isolation and feeling unloved and unwanted but like the thing is it's her actions that caused it and I feel like I shouldn't have to feel bad for her because she's created the situation she's in but she seems to legitamately not see that and I'm just fucking terrified because I know she has issues with depression and I know that she has self harmed before and I'm afraid that the isolation and those negative feelings could lead to something really bad. So I feel like telling people yeah it's okay to distance yourself from her and doing it myself could end badly and that just worries me because I don't want that for anyone and at the end of the day I do care about her and also I wouldn't want to see how that would affect my dad because he loves her so much but I also don't want to be around her and I don't think it's wrong to say to my sisters who have distanced themselves from her that they're not doing anything wrong and I am going to tell my eight year old sister that it's okay to walk away when she's being mean (not from the whole relationship, she wouldn't want to anyway, but just from the fights) even if it upsets 14 year old sister more. But about my distancing myself and what I feel like is holding a grudge which also makes me feel bad, I feel like a bad person for doing it when I know how she's feeling. And I know that she genuinely feels the way she does but at the same time I also feel like my dad keeps getting manipulated by it bc she does feel that way but she brings it up any time she's in trouble and then all of the sudden he's comforting her and feeling bad for saying anything. She also jokingly says 'oh so you don't love me' when she asks for something and my dad says no and that would be fine but she keeps insisting about whatever she wants after she says that and it'd be so much less annoying if it wasn't for how often she says it and for all the background information about her saying similar things in situations that I'm sure she does feel them but that make him feel bad for just parenting. But anyway sorry for the rant I know that's ridiculously wrong and you don't have to respond but I needed to get that out lol

I think your frustration and anger and hurt is completely valid, but I also don't think we can disregard that she is 14 and having mental health issues. So avoid her when you can and call her out when you have the energy and try not to feel bad about it, because you are allowed to have limits and boundaries. But maybe don't write her off completely while she is still in the early stages of puberty. There's a good chance this is a phase or at least something she can grow out of at a later point. Not that you are obligated to be there with zero concerns if she does. Being 14 excuses a lot of things, but not this level of consistent manipulation and disregard

[justanintrovertedweirdo]

The Angel and the Imp

(THIS IS REALLY LONG YOU DO NOT HAVE TO READ ALL OF IT. I just wanted to share this introduction to some of my ocs that I did a while ago. I'm honestly really proud of it! Anyway, hope you enjoy if you are gonna read it!)

Hell. Some believe in it, some don’t. But all know it’s a wasteland of nothing but suffering and agony. And they wouldn’t be wrong. But a lot more happens in hell than most people know of. You see, mortals aren’t the only ones who suffer in hell. Down below the Earth’s surface, close to its core, is where the barren wasteland known as hell resides. And also where sinners, demons, and the deadly sins themselves call home. But there’s one specific demon that will be the focus of this story we tell today, some don’t even see them as demons. These are the little creatures known as imps. Inside the temples and homes in hell, they serve their masters, even through the severe abuse they are put through day after day. Other than mortals, imps have the worst lives in hell. And of course, when there are conditions like these, there are going to be some who rebel, and those who do are either severely punished, killed, or kicked out. Those who are lucky enough to be kicked out or to escape hide away in the parts of hell where no one looks. There are little communities of these rebellious imps scattered all over hell, where no one will find them. And in one of those little communities, is where one side of our story begins.

This certain community is hidden in a part of a town that has been long forgotten. It is one of the more improved communities, each of the residents has their own place to sleep, there’s a small pub in the middle where everyone gets their food, and most of them even have a make-shift roof to put over their heads when the weather gets bad. The imp we will be following in this story is an imp with many piercings, and a giant scar from his shoulder and across his torso called Cyrill. He was currently sitting in his make-shift hut which was made up from the rubble of the old buildings around them. The walls were made of old broken pieces of stone, the ceiling was made some-what functional thanks to some old wooden planks, and a large piece of cloth was used as a door. It was small, and it wasn’t comfortable, but it was something. He sat on the pile of straw that he used as a bed and held a small poorly made doll in his clawed hands. It was made of simple brown fabric, like his clothing was, and was stuffed with straw, just like his bed. It didn’t have many discernible features, aside from its poorly sewn in button eyes and its strange looking stitched mouth. The doll was his little brother’s, before he got separated from him at a young age due to him being sold off to a different master. His little brother gave it to him so he would remember him, not that he could ever forget him. It is the only thing he has left of his family, so he keeps it hidden in his straw bed so no one ever steals it or it gets ruined. He looks at it longingly as he gently holds it, it’s in even worse condition than when his brother gave it to him. He doesn’t know how to sew so he’s afraid if it breaks he’ll never be able to fix it. He stays on his bed holding the doll until suddenly his cloth door swings open.

“Hey! We’re start’in the party soon. You come’in or not?” It was Brutus, a strong imp that had many tattoos along his arms and legs. He was bigger than most imps, mostly because of his muscle. Out of all the imps in the community, he was some of the few who had the most scars.

Cyrill nearly jumped to his hooves at the large imp’s rude entrance. He instantly hid the doll back in his straw bed and looked at Brutus, clearly annoyed.

“For the love of Satan! When will you learn not to do that!” he exclaimed.

“Look, you come’in or not?” Brutus said, promptly ignoring him.

Cyrill sighed and stretched as he got up from his bed. “Alright, alright. I’m com’in.”

Brutus smiled, showing his sharp fangs as he held open the cloth door for him. “Good! Come on, they just got out the piano!”

They both walked past many other small huts, most of which looked the same, until they got to the center of their little village. It was built inside the least deprecated building and looked better than the rest of the village, which was saying a lot. This was where the imps in this little community got their food, which was all mostly stolen. It was also where they all gathered for meetings or parties, such as tonight. It was basically a small pub. The beverages they served were all stolen, much like the food. Lanterns were placed on the walls to light up the place, and there were a few tables, and a small bar, which is where an imp called Adonis worked. It’s not like he made a salary, he basically was there all the time in order to serve the imps any food or beverage they currently had. You could say he was the leader of this small community. He knew all the imps and everyone listened to his word more than anyone else’s. Nearly every imp was in this small pub tonight. As he and Brutus walked in, Cyrill could see many had already started to eat and drink as they talked and joked with their friends. There were a few that were taking turns playfully playing the piano, a very prized pession of theirs. When they walked in, a group of imps immediately called Brutus over to join them at their table.

“Oh, that’s me! Gotta go. You go have fun, alright.” Brutus patted Cyrill on the back and smiled at him again before going off to join the other group of imps. Cyrill smiled a little back at him before heading straight to the bar and sitting down on a stool. Adonis, seeing him sit down, walked over to him.

“You want the usual?” he asked in his usual gruff voice. Adonis tended to look very unaproachable, but he actually cared a lot about all the imps here. He knew a lot about them all too, since he was the one everyone usually came to talk to. No one knew a lot about where he came from or how he ended up here, but everyone knows that he despises demons more than anyone, and never wants to get involved with them ever again. Thanks to his injuries, it was clear why he didn’t want to. His broken horn, the worst kind of injury for imps, told them all they needed to know.

“Yeah, thanks” Cyrill rested his head on his hand and got more comfortable in his seat.

Adonis nodded and went off to get his drink. While he waited, Cyrill looked around at the other imps as the party really started off. Brutus looked like he was already making bets with his friends, probably about how much he could drink. He was someone that always had a big toothy grin on his face. It’s said he used to help make weapons for a demon, but when he rebelled and refused to do any more work for them, he was scalded with hot metal and thrown out onto the streets. He bears the scar proudly on his upper arm, he never seems to let anything bring him down. He always takes any bad thing as a lesson and gets right back up after. Another imp, Damian, was being the usual social butterfly he was and was chatting up everyone at his table. He was a skinny imp with lighter skin that didn’t have too many scars. His tall horns were a bit scratched up though. He said that he had worked for a demon under Asmodeus, the embodiment of lust. They used him mostly for chores and errands, though sometimes they’d sharpen things using his horns, just to show how little he meant to them. They abandoned him in this realm when they deemed he wasn’t useful to them anymore. He’s now gotten better but he’s still not fully recovered. Cyrill knows that he still doesn’t believe he’s worth much of anything. But he is getting better. Slowly, but surely. Before Cyrill could watch much more of what the other imps were doing, a scarred imp with an eyepatch sat next to him and started to talk.

“Hey! If it isn’t Cyrill! I thought you weren’t gonna show!” The imp was already holding a small drink in his hand as he leaned his body on the bar counter. His name was Atlas, and he was the most rebellious imp in this village. He was also some of the few who had the most scars, like Brutus. His most defining feature of all though, was his eyepatch that he wore over his left eye. Or at least his left socket. Atlas had once worked under a very brutal demon, not a day went by without him punishing any of the imps that worked for him. After finally having enough, Atlas lashed out at the demon, which responded by clawing his eye out. He then threw him out onto the streets and left him to die. Even so, his rebellious spirit never faltered, and he continues to want to get back at the demons who had all wronged them. It’s the reason he usually leads groups of imps when they go out to steal supplies.

“I wasn’t, but then Brutus practically forced me to.” Cyrill responded with some annoyance.

“Well, now that you’re here, you should lighten up a bit! Come on, let’s go have some fun!” Even though Cyrill was clearly not interested in doing anything right now, that didn’t stop Atlas from trying his hardest to get him to join in. He always wanted Cyrill to have fun since he barely looked happy most of the time.

“I think he’d just like to have a few drinks” Atlas and Cyrill turned to see that Adonis had returned with Cyrill’s drink. He sat it down in front of Cyrill who quickly took a hold of it and gave Adonis a thankful look. Atlas could see that Cyrill wasn’t interested but he still tried one last time.

“Aw, really? Come on, at least watch Brutus drown himself in beer” He gestured to Brutus who seemed to already be on his second glass. He was cheered on by the imps around him as he continued to down his drink.

“Really, I’m fine. Go ahead, have fun. You don’t have to worry about me” Cyrill waved his hand and gave Atlas a reassuring smile.

Atlas sighed, “Alright. But seriously, this is a party! At least try to have some kind of fun.” With that, Atlas got up and walked over to the table Brutus was at, where he had just finished downing his second beer, to the delight of everyone watching on.

“Atlas is right you know.” Adonis spoke up again and Cyrill turned to face him. “I’ll get you whatever you want but don’t just sit here look’in sad all evening.” He left Cyrill alone at that and headed off to serve someone else.

Cyrill sighed again and drank his beverage. He knew they were all right but he felt like he couldn’t have fun after everything that’s happened to him. He felt so guilty for not trying to find his brother after they got separated. He felt like he could never really help anyone. Someone started to play an actual song on the piano, which slowly caught everyone’s attention. Some listened, some danced, and some even sang along. With that, the whole pub got even more lively. There was laughing, singing, dancing, and cheering. Even though their living conditions were some of the worst in all of hell, they all knew this was so much better than living under any demon. Here they were free. And they were happy. Cyrill genuinely smiled as he watched the mood become even lighter, even starting to tap his finger on the bar counter along to the music. The rickety door of the pub then swung open and the voice of a small imp echoed through the room. All the chatter, laughing, and music stopped instantly.

“The angels are coming!” the small imp shouted, as loud as he possibly could.

The whole pub went dead silent. No one said anything in response. The small imp then calmed himself down and spoke again, more quietly this time.

“The angels are coming” fear could be seen all across his body.

Adonis walked over to the imp with a serious look on his face. “How long do we have?”

“An hour. I overheard some demons talking about it in the streets.” The imp was obviously holding back how frightened he was.

And he was right to be frightened, angels are extremely powerful beings. They’re more powerful than any demon or any of the deadly sins. They’re so powerful they could kill Lucifer himself, not that it would be easy, but they could, and that scares those in hell, demon or not. They come down to hell every month or so to either deliver a message to or to talk with one of the deadly sins. No one is to come close to them when they arrive, or they risk getting slashed with one of their spears. Every angel in heaven’s army has one. They were made with the intent to kill beings of hell, so most know better than to get in their way. Imps know they could easily be killed by an angel, it would be like simply killing a pest for them. That’s why all imps stay hidden when angels arrive. It’s the safest way to ensure they won’t be killed.

Adonis raised his voice in order to make sure everyone in the pub could hear him, “Everyone needs to go back to their huts. I’ll inform all of those who weren’t here with us tonight.”

There was a slight sadness in the pub from the party ending early, but they still immediately followed Adonis’ instructions. Everyone quickly left the pub, nothing was really cleaned up but that didn’t matter, they could clean up after the angels had gone. They were in an abandoned part of their town, so there wasn’t much of a chance that the angels would come anywhere close to them. Still, they were angels, and they were imps, it was much better to be safe than sorry. Cyrill heard a lot of chatter among all the imps as he quickly got back to his hut. While some showed it and some didn’t, they clearly were all afraid. It made since. He was too. He entered into his hut and plopped down onto his bed. He knew they were very safe here, but he couldn’t help but feel terrified whenever the angels came. And he hated that feeling. He hated feeling terrified of those who were stronger than him, it made him feel so weak. It couldn’t really be helped much, he was an imp after all. He pulled out the raggedy doll from his bed and held it close to him.

“Stay safe little brother,” he said.

Heaven, once again, it’s a place where most are not sure exist. But it’s where they would like to go to meet their loved ones, and live the rest of their afterlife in peace. Peace, you would think heaven is full of it, and it mostly is, but even so, it has the strongest army in all of creation. All who oppose it have fallen beneath it. The only time this army has ever come close to losing, was when its own soldiers fought against it, rebels that were led by Lucifer. But that happened a long time ago, and Lucifer and all those who fought with him have long since fallen. Even so, heaven’s army still stays strong, awaiting their next attack. Irene, a young angel with yellow eyes, is a part of this army. She is a second rank, as seen by her two pairs of wings. Every angel earns their own wings at different parts of their life, but when an angel joins heaven’s army, their wings double in size. Everytime they get promoted, they gain a new pair of wings. The stronger the angel, the more wings it has. Irene has had four wings for a while now, she is hoping she will get a new pair soon. They were currently practicing their stances with their spear before another angel came up to them.

“You about ready to go, Irene?”

It was Alexis, a third ranked angel with purple eyes. Her and Irene had known each other for some time now.

Irene steadied herself with her spear before turning to look at Alexis. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good, let’s join the others.” Alexis motioned with her hand for Irene to follow, and they did.

They walked through the training fields, neither of them talked much with each other. The fields were green and the sun was warm, just like always. The buildings were clean, it seemed like even the training grounds for an army were perfect in heaven.

“Are you nervous?” Alexis asked, breaking the silence between them.

“Yes. But I believe I’m ready” Irene looked at Alexis with a confident smile as they said this.

“I believe you are too,” Alexis responded.

This was Irene’s first mission in hell. She was going with Alexis and two other angles in order to deliver a message to Beelzebub, the embodiment of gluttony. Luckily, Alexis was going to do the talking, but Irene was still very nervous. They arrived at the point where they could enter hell and joined the other two angels that were waiting for them. Both of them were second ranks, like Irene. Only second ranks and above were allowed to go on missions to hell. Most say you had truly dedicated yourself to heaven’s army when you became a second rank. The four of them were extremely high up, they were at one of the highest places in heaven.

“Alright, all of you are going to follow my lead. Irene, you follow behind me. Apollo, you follow us and Eros will follow last. Got it?” Alexis explained, pointing to each of them appropriately as she said their names.

“Understood ma’am” they all said in unison.

With that, Alexis nodded and turned toward the edge, revealing the clouds that held heaven. She spread her six wings and took off before diving down toward the earth. Irene followed after her, then Apollo, then Eros, just like Alexis had told them to. They dived head first with their wings tucked in tight. They kept going faster, and faster, until heat washed over them and they spread their wings, safely landing in hell. Only an angel is able to do this, they have to reach a certain speed while they dive down to earth in order to reach hell. It’s the only way for angels, while for anyone else, it’s death. They looked around where they had landed, their white skin, clothes, wings, and weapons were a great contrast with the rest of their surroundings. Alexis and Eros looked around for any danger while Irene and Apollo did the same but mostly gazed at their surroundings. This was the first time these two had been to hell after all. It was exciting, but also extremely terrifying. This was the domain of all of the fallen angels, of Lucifer. This was where all demons were born and where all sinners on earth were brought to be tortured for their sins. It truly was a terrifying place.

“Alright, the cost is clear, let’s start moving to her domain. Be sure to stay on your guard.” Alexis told the group, showing just how many times she had been down here.

The group followed Alexis’ lead as they walked through bloodied stone streets lined with houses and temples. Irene could feel how unsafe this place was, she even swore she could hear screaming every now and then in the distance. There was no sky, no sun, just stone and thick air. Irene almost felt bad for all the beings that were trapped here, but she stopped herself, they knew every single being down here deserved to be here, it was their rightful place. Irene shouldn’t feel bad for what she couldn’t change. They all continued to walk through the strangely quiet and empty streets. It came as a surprise to Irene to not see any living creature in sight, even though they were told that hell’s citizens usually hid away when they came down to their domain. Irene found it a little strange, but she wasn’t about to start asking for a fight in hell of all places. But as if it had read her mind, a flying creature then swooped down and scratched her wrist, seeming to try and snatch her bracelet. The scratch felt like it was burning through her skin. She winced and looked toward the creature and then to Alexis for confirmation. They were told if they were ever attacked by anything in hell, they should kill it immediately.

“Go ahead, we’ll continue forward” Alexis said to her.

Irene nodded and flew up into the air and began to chase after the creature. It was small, which meant it was weak, but it also meant that it was quick. But it only had two wings, and Irene had four, which were also much bigger. They both flew quickly past and through many buildings and strange plants until they got to a more ruined part of the town they were currently in. Irene was about to catch this small demon until she accidentally bumped into a ruined building, which made her pause the chase. The demon quickly flew away and before Irene could resume chasing it, she heard movement behind her. Her eyes widened as a big piece of rubble began to fall right on top of her.

Chatter and arguments filled up the air in the pub. Everyone was worried, not because of the angels, they were told they had left hours ago, they were worried about their supplies. Atonis had just announced to everyone that they were running low on food and some imps would need to go in search of more. This was by far the most dangerous part of living here. Homeless imps had to steal food from demons, and if they were caught, they’d most certainly be killed. It was a risky task, but it was necessary in order to keep everyone fed. Atonis stayed in his place on top of the bar counter and raised his voice once again so everyone could hear him.

“Everyone, listen! The unexpected visit from the angels has delayed this restocking of our food much more than I would’ve liked. At least four of us are going to have to go out and find as much food as they can.”

“You know I’m always glad to go, Atonis” Atlas stepped forward, not unusual of him in the slightest.

“I’ll also go, Atonis” Brutus stepped forward soon after Atlas. Brutus was very good at protecting others, so it was a relief to everyone to hear him volunteer.

“I’ll go as well” A young imp stepped forward as he raised his clawed hand.

No one else proceeded to step forward after that. The room was silent as everyone anxiously awaited for just one more imp to volunteer.

“We need one more imp. I’m afraid we can’t do this supply run without at least four.” Atonis said, growing impatient.

Cyrill raised his clawed hand and stepped forward, “I’ll go.”

Everyone looked at him as walked next to the three other imps. Cyrill hadn’t gone on a supply run for sometime now. Everyone was surprised but also very grateful when he stepped up. The other three imps gave him friendly smiles as he stood next to them, Brutus once again giving him a light pat on the back.

“Good, thank you Cyrill. Now, you all know the drill, find as much food wherever you can and make sure to stay together if you can. Above all, stay safe, your lives are much more important than food.” Atonis got down from the bar counter as he talked to them. He had said this many times to many imps but he still meant every word. He’d much rather have everyone come back alive than have them sacrifice themselves for food. With that he took out four bags and handed them to each of them.

The four imps took the bags and all nodded to what Atonis said and after waving farewell to all the others, they left. When they got to the outskirts of their little village, Cyrill started to walk in a different direction than the other three were. The three imps noticed this and Brutus called out to him.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”

Cyrill turned his head to face them, “I’m going to the ruins east of here. There should be some good food growing there that I can bring back.”

The other three looked at each other, concerned.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come with us?” Atlas asked.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come with me?” Cyrill asked back.

The other three thought about their response. They were going further into town, they needed to stick with each other there. No one was usually in the ruins, and they could bring back more food if they all weren’t together. Due to how much food they needed, the other three agreed that Cyrill could go to the ruins on his own.

“Be careful alright?” Atlas said, still looking a little worried for Cyrill.

Cyrill nodded and they went their separate ways. The three imps went further into town as Cyrill headed east into the more desolate parts of this domain. The streets were still pretty empty from the angel’s visit a couple of hours ago, but there were some demons around. Luckily, Cyrill had done this many times in the past and he easily and quickly snuck past the demons. He walked past what looked like a demon couple as they interlocked their arms and silently walked the streets, seeming to enjoy the rare calmness. It wasn’t long until the buildings started to get more ruined and less and less demons could be seen roaming around. Vegetation started to replace stone as Cyrill went further into the ruins. He wandered around for a bit until he found a group of mushrooms nested in the ground. Cyrill was able to tell they were safe to eat thanks to how long he’d been on his own. You learn a lot when you’re forced to survive off of everything around you. He put them in his bag and wandered around a bit more until he found a berry bush that he happily picked the berries from and placed them into the pouch with the mushrooms. He was feeling good about how much food he was finding until a strange noise made him stop in his tracks. It sounded like grunting, or at least it sounded like someone was struggling. There was also a sound of metal scraping against stone. Cyrill hesitated for a moment, but in the end decided to investigate. He thought that he’d just quietly take a peek to see what it was. If it was another imp, he’d help them, if it was anything else, he’d just leave it alone. Cyrill got closer to some old ruins as the sounds got louder. He quietly crept around to a hole in the wall where he could see what was making the sounds. He then instantly ducked back behind the wall as he did. He didn’t really believe what he had just seen. It had looked like an angel, but that was impossible, the angels had left hours ago. Cyrill froze as a voice called out to him.

“I know you’re there. Are you gonna come out or leave?”

The voice sounded stern, and powerful. Cyrill felt his blood run cold at the sound of it. He was about to run but something made him stay. And that same something made him look through the hole in the wall again, despite every single instinct in his body telling him to run for the hills. As his eyes laid on it again, he knew he had indeed seen what he thought he saw. It was an angel. Cyrill had never seen one this up close before. He got even more terrified just looking at it. It’s many sharp yellow eyes met his. Cyrill had felt weak before, but this was something entirely different. No demon in hell could make him feel the fear he was feeling in this moment. Its large wings were half folded out at its sides, it looked like it was about ready to attack him. Cyrill questioned why it didn’t, but then he realized. Its bottom right wing was trapped under a large piece of rubble. It looked like it was trying to lift the stone off its wing by pushing its spear under it and pushing on it. It didn’t seem like it was working too well.

“Are you just going to keep staring at me?” the angel spoke again, its voice just as stern and cold.

Cyrill’s ability to speak seemed to have abandoned him. He couldn’t find or get out a single word in this moment. What was he supposed to say? As he continued to not say anything, the angel sighed heavily and once again tried to push the piece of rubble off its wing with its spear. Cyrill stayed where he was, not daring to get anywhere near it.

“Are you… trapped?” Cyrill was finally able to form a sentence. His voice was quiet and fearful, but also curious.

The angel looked back at him, an extreme hate filled its eyes. “Of course I am. What does it look like?”

Cyrill stepped back a bit in fear. It was strange for him to see such a powerful creature like an angel trapped like this. “I was just asking,” he said, still very fearful.

“Look, just leave me alone” the angel already seemed to be tense, and it seemed Cyrill’s presence wasn’t helping.

Cyrill continued to watch the angel before he did something he never thought he would ever do. He climbed through the hole in the wall and got closer to the angel. He kept his distance from it, making sure even with its spear it couldn’t touch him. Cyrill had always seen angels as these untouchable beings. But now that he saw one trapped, he felt like he could approach it. He wondered if an angel could be trapped this easily, how easily could they be hurt? He’d never seen an angel get injured before. Maybe when they do get injured, it makes them incredibly vulnerable. Cyrill’s thoughts were broken when the angel spoke again.

“What are you doing?” It sounded more like a command than a question. The angel was fully tensed up now, it tightened its grip on its spear, looking ready to attack.

Cyrill couldn’t find a good answer no matter how hard he tried. “I don’t know” was all he could muster out.

The angel was obviously not happy with this answer. It brandished its spear, staring him down. “If you get any closer to me, I won’t hesitate to kill you” it said boldly.

Its many eyes felt like they were searing through Cyrill’s body. Even though this was the worst fear he had ever felt in his life, he felt like he couldn’t back down. When was he going to come across another chance like this again? When was he going to find an angel in such a vulnerable state again? Despite his better judgment, he took a step closer. He then quickly dodged out of the way as the angel threw its spear at him with no hesitation. The spear lodged itself into the wall behind him with incredible force. Cyrill looked at the spear, then back to the angel with intense fear. The angel looked back at him, annoyed that it had missed. It then looked back at its spear and realized something as it let out a groan and put a hand to its face. It took a second for Cyrill to also realize this, but when he did most of the fear left his body. The angel had thrown away its only weapon, and there was no way it could get it back. Cyrill began to laugh when he realized this, which only made the angel more aggravated.

“Shut it! I can still kill you even without my spear!” It tried to lean closer to Cyrill but stopped when the piece of ruin pulled on its wing painfully.

Cyrill stopped laughing but still smiled at it as he saw just how helpless this angel was. For once in his life, he finally felt like he had the upper hand on a being that could usually crush him with ease. He then looked back at the spear and smiled more as he got an idea. He got up and walked toward the angelic spear in the wall.

“Don’t you dare touch that!” The angel was furious now.

Cyrill looked back at it, grinning as moved his hand closer to the spear. “And what are you gonna do about it?” With that he placed his clawed hand on the spear. It felt strange. It felt like he was touching metal, but it was warm. It wasn’t warm from its surroundings, it was emitting the warmth by itself. It looked like it slightly glowed from his touch. His thoughts were once again interrupted when the angel spoke again.

“You can touch it?” the volume of its voice had lowered. It now sounded more confused than aggravated.

Cyrill turned back to the angel, his hand still on the spear. “Yeah. What do you mean?”

The angel’s words came as a surprise to Cyrill. He had heard it felt like your wound was burning when you were struck by an angelic weapon, but he found it a little strange how the angel thought it would burn him just by touching it. Cyrill then placed both of his hands on the spear and began pulling it out of the wall, its warmth emanating from itself to his hands. The angel watched him, confused.

“What are you doing?” it said, tilting its head slightly.

Cyrill let go of the spear to take a breath before trying to pull it out again. “I’m gonna try to hold it,” he said, grabbing onto the spear again.

The angel narrowed its eyes at him, “are you going to try to steal it from me?” it said.

“Maybe, I guess we’ll see.” Cyrill said as he continued pulling on the spear.

He kept pulling on the spear until finally he pulled it out of the wall. He then quickly fell backwards underneath the weight of the spear. The angel held back a small laugh when he did. Cyrill tried to pick up the spear again but it was obvious that a small imp like him wasn’t going to be able to pick up a spear carried by an angel trained in heaven’s army.

“Well, guess that’s not happening,” he said, giving up on the spear.

“You tried,” the angel said, seeming to enjoy how Cyrill struggled with its spear.

Cyrill looked to the spear and then to the angel and back again. He sighed.

“I guess you can have it back,” Cyrill said as he reluctantly dragged the spear across the ground before sliding it back to the angel.

The angel quickly grabbed the spear again, though it looked a bit confused as it did. It looked at its spear, and then back to Cyrill.

“Why did you do that?” it asked.

“I’m not sure,” Cyrill said, as he sat down on the ground.

“You seem to not be sure about a lot of things,” the angel said back to him.

Cyrill chuckled a little, “that sounds about right.”

The angel still looked confused but it wasn’t about to question him further. It went back to trying to lift the piece of ruin off its wing with the spear, it still didn’t work. Cyrill watched as the angel tried and failed once again.

“You need more weight,” he said.

The angel let out an annoyed sigh, “thanks for pointing out the obvious.”

Cyrill paused for a moment before getting up and slowly making his way towards the angel. “Why don’t I try-”

Before he could get anything else out the angel quickly removed its spear from under the rubble and pointed it right at him. Cyrill had thought the angel had calmed down but it was obvious he was wrong. The angel had its spear back, and it was ready to try and skewer him a second time if needed. Cyrill put his hands up and tried to look as unaggressive as possible.

“I’m not gonna hurt you” he said, trying his best to make the angel believe it.

“And why should I believe what you say?” the angel asked, its spear never faltering.

“I guess you can't,” Cyrill said. “But how bad could I really hurt you? I’m only an imp after all.”

The angel lowered its spear a little. “That’s right. You are.” It then cocked its head, “what are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be serving your master?”

Cyrill grimaced slightly as the angel said this. “I don’t have a master. I haven’t had a master for years.”

The angel’s eyes widened, it now looked more confused than ever. “What? But how? Isn’t that a whole imp’s purpose?”

Cyrill snickered, trying to hide how much those words hurt him. “Guess I’m pretty useless then, huh? Which only further proves my point. How badly could a useless, masterless imp like me hurt you?” He held back his anger as he grimaced and clenched his fists.

The angel almost felt sorry for the imp. It stopped itself before it actually could, though. This was a being of hell, the first being to ever be made in hell for that matter. It didn’t deserve sympathy.

The angel sighed, “alright, you can help me. But if you try anything, I won’t hesitate to kill you” it made that last part very clear as it pointed its spear at him one last time before lowering it, still keeping a tight grip on it.

Cyrill slowly walked over to the angel, making sure to not show any signs of aggression. His heart beat got quicker as he got to the point where the angel could attack him and quicker still as he got closer. The angel was so much bigger than him, that was only made more abundantly clear as he got closer to it. Even when sitting down it was still taller than him. The angel never stopped looking at him. It took a second for him to find his voice when he got close enough to it.

“Okay, I’ll push down on your spear with you when you have it under the rubble. Maybe then it’ll be enough to lift it off your wing” Cyrill explained.

The angel nodded and put its spear under the rubble once again. Cyrill cautiously put his hands on the spear, feeling its warmth on his hands once again. They both began to push down on the spear. Cyrill needed to put his whole body weight on the spear before it actually started to lift the large piece of ruin off of the angel’s wing. They kept pushing and as soon as it could, the angel pulled its wing out from under the rubble with a pained expression. The angel quickly pulled off its weight from the spear once its wing was no longer trapped, and Cyrill quickly followed suit. They both looked at the wing. It was definitely broken. There wasn’t blood, but it was clear some bones were broken. After examining its wing, the angel stood up, making Cyrill be at about waist height of it. There was silence between them for some time before the angel spoke up.

“Thank you” it said, almost sounding reluctant.

“You’re welcome” Cyrill was surprised to hear this angel thank him, but he still received the angel’s thanks.

There was silence again before the angel said something else, “what is your name?”

Cyrill didn’t know exactly what to say for a second. Was this angel really asking for his name? “Cyrill,” He said finally.

The angel gently put its hand to its chest, “Irene” it said.

Silence fell over them again. Neither of them ever thought that they would be exchanging names with someone like this.

“It was… interesting to meet you, Cyrill,” Irene said as she turned to leave.

Cyrill didn’t know what to say back. He didn’t know what to say about any of this. “Yeah, you too” was all he could get out.

After that, Irene took off with her one remaining pair of wings, blowing some dust against Cyrill as she did. Strangely, Cyrill didn’t seem to mind. He watched as Irene flew away, confused about the interaction he had just had, much like her. Both of them were asking questions, and both of them were wanting answers. But neither of them were sure if they wanted them answered.

[pedgito]

Could you do a love triangle between reader, Steve and Eddie? Like she can't decide who she's more attracted too and spin the bottle goes south really quick. Because they're jealous when someone dares the reader to kiss the other or someone else.

author's note: uh, yeah...i got carried away. this took on a life of it's own. i also got halfway through and tumblr deleted it and i had retype all of it, so if it seems a little disjointed, i'm sorry. hopefully it isn't too noticeable

cw: 18+ (to be safe), background!ronance, lots of making out and some suggestive touching, but nothing too crazy. there's not any interaction outside of the reader between steve & eddie, other than talking, ect, but i tried leaving the ending a little ambiguous for a reason :p

word count: 3.6k

You weren’t entirely too sure how you ended up in this situation—scratch that—you were definitely aware of how, but why was the real issue. A small group of teenagers huddled around a fire during of those infamous senior year parties, drinking until you couldn’t see straight and making far too many irrational decisions—which is the how on you ending up here, staring directly at the two boys you couldn’t stop thinking about, sans the few other kids who didn’t really matter—not to you, anyways. You hadn’t spoke to half these kids the entire school year, but spin the bottle was harmless, practically child’s play. What was the worst thing that could happen?

“So, how are we doing this?” Steve asks after a long silence. Everyone shares a glance around the circle, not a single word spoken. “Come on, at least one of you has to have some idea of how to play.”

You sigh, taking the bait. “Let’s do—spinner chooses the person to kiss for whoever it lands on. Fair enough?” There’s a collective shrug from everyone in response. “Great—I’ll go first.” No one argues against it.

It lands on Nancy first, who takes a small sip of her beer—liquid courage, maybe? Though, she already looked like she been through a few by the slight flush in her face. You glance over at your quirky, fast talking friend and an idea strikes you.

“Robin.” You grin, staring Nancy down. Part of you expects Nancy to back out, but she crosses the path to Robin, who sitting beside you. It’s a quick kiss—close mouthed and simple. Nancy offered a comforting smile to her friend before turning on her heels and returning to her seat—and if it weren’t for the four beers Robin had consumed in the time you had been here, she’d be shaking in her converse after being kissed—and by Nancy Wheeler, of all people. You nudge her shoulder comfortingly, watching the blush creep up her neck toward her face. “Alright, who’s next?” Robin asks, desperately hoping to avert the attention away from her.

A young blonde girl who’s name you couldn’t remember spun the bottle, landing on Jason, and to no surprise—she picked herself. You’ve never been more happy that Chrissy wasn’t much of a partier, she didn’t deserve this—Jason really didn’t deserve her. You couldn’t be bothered to watch, eyes averting to Eddie who was just as equally uncomfortable, but it didn’t seem like it was for the same reason. He rarely ever took part in group stuff or socialized outside of his D&D club—but he had you, Nancy, Robin, and Steve to thank for finally helping him branch out—even if it was against his own will most of the time.

Jason took the next turn, spinning the bottle. It spun and spun, lasting for what felt like hours until it stopped on you. You looked at Jason, bracing for whatever stupid choice he was about to.

“Harrington.” He says smugly, smirk covering his annoying face. “You get to kiss Harrington.”

Steve eyes you wearily, immediately feeling uncomfortable with all eyes on him. Luckily, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Had he been the Steve of two years ago, he would’ve had no shame, kissing you square on the mouth in front of the entire school if he needed to, just to prove a point. But this Steve, he was hesitant. You had been through a lot, together and apart.

“Lucky me.” You joke, flashing a sweet smile in Steve’s direction. You chug the rest of the beer, throwing the bottle off toward the other growing pile of empty bottles. You contemplate whether a simple kiss was enough, but the way Jason was staring you down—you just had to stick it to him, shove it right in his face.

Steve’s leg spread slightly as you moved forward, allowing you the space you needed to take a careful seat on his leg, one arm hung loosely around his back. “You can hate me later.” You whisper, hand coming up to cradle the side of his face before leaning in, pressing you lips against his own with all the confidence in the world.

You really don’t expect the pressure the Steve returns, parting your lips slightly. But, he seems to catch on to why you were putting on such a show—he would play along either way. And even if you did have the teensiest of crushes on Steve, you would never find the courage to act on it alone. Steve spent all of his time talking about girls that there was no reason for you to be anywhere on his radar. He sighs quietly, bring you in closer, hand gripping onto your waist gently.

Jason clears his throat awkwardly, “If you two want to get a room that’s fine.” Of course the jerk couldn’t take what he wanted to dish out. You pull away slowly, eyes immediately connecting with his.

“Sorry. Who’s next?” You ask simply, standing to smooth out your shirt where it had ridden up from Steve’s hand. “Robin?”

“Me?” She asks, voice shaken. Robin was always so inherently nervous, but it was part of her charm. "I, uh--Okay."

You could hear a pin drop as soon as it landed on Eddie, the entire group snapping their attention in his direction. He was fiddling with the neck of the bottle, not realizing everyone was staring at him until Steve nudges him.

He laughs lightly, not even the slightest bit uncomfortable. You would never understand how easily he brushed everything off. "Choose wisely, Robin." He teases, pointing a tantalizing finger her direction. Robin forces a laugh, eyes wandering around the group slowly, categorizing every person.

Not Jason, not Nancy, not to mention all the other kids who were vehemently making an effort to avoid Robin's gaze. She stops on Steve for half a second, considering--before she snaps to you. She mumbles a sheepish, "Sorry--I love you, please don't hate me."

But, there wasn't any reason to hate her. It was a game--a silly, stupid little game, right? You shrug, throwing your arms up in the air. "Rules are rules." You assure her, "Pucker up, Munson."

Much similar to your approach to Steve, Eddie widens his legs. But, he's perched higher, allowing his head to be level with you while he sat. "It's an honor, sweetheart." His voice dripping with honey, warm and entirely too welcoming--and now you really can't ignore the shiver that runs down your spine. It wasn't the alcohol this time, not even in the slightest.

He yanks you toward him gently, fingers carding their way through the hair at nape of your neck, pulling you in for a slow, searing kiss. You yelp quietly at the action, caught off guard by the way Eddie manhandled you into place--not that you were complaining.

The kiss quickly turns into something else, a mess of tongues and not much else. It was probably time to cut off the alcohol. Robin whistles loudly from behind you, the rest of the teenagers joining in quickly, pulling you both out of whatever trance you had both entered. You quickly stepped back from Eddie, pointedly avoiding his eyes--unfortunately, locking right onto Steve's. Except he's not looking back, he's staring directly at Eddie. And it's then, in the midst of all your drunkenness, that your existential crisis hits you.

Steve was jealous and Eddie wanted to make Steve jealous. It had worked perfectly, assuming by the look on Steve's face. But, what doesn't make sense, is why Steve couldn't bare to look at you now. Eddie coughs softly, causing you to separate further. "Sorry, sweetheart. Kinda got ahead of myself." You wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but it couldn't have been more obvious--the problem was literally staring you directly in the face.

They were both jealous. They couldn't even share a glance with each other anymore, after an entire night of pointless chatting, it was like they couldn't be on further points of the universe, all over a harmless game.

"Well, I think that's enough for one night." Nancy finally says, breaking the tension that had been created between the three of you. "Robin?" She asks, making an effort to hope she would catch on.

"Yep!" She claps, standing up from her spot and immediately snatching Nancy away from the group. "God, please fill me in on whatever is going on with those two." Robin whispers into your ear before she finally flees, following Nancy toward the drink table, against her better judgement.

.ೃ࿐

After a few minutes of silence and stolen glances between each other, no one speaks. You sigh loudly, hands thrown out to your side. "I'm not dealing with you two. I'm not--I'm just gonna go find somewhere to sober up." You weren't sure what had brought out the behavior from Steve--well, Eddie had--but, you hadn't done a single thing to him. And Eddie, he couldn't even be bothered to look Steve's way.

You turn, stomping off into the deep brush of forest, desperate to escape the chaos of the party and calm your nerves. "Wait!" You hear Steve call out, but you don't stop. To no one's surprise, Steve trails closely behind--a quiet Eddie sticking behind, staring at the dirty, scuffed white sneakers he wore.

"Wait, please," Steve's voice is softer this time, but louder, void of all the loud music and chatter. He's staring at you with his soft, brown eyes--the type of look that would make any girl melt. But not you, not now, "stuff got weird back there, I'm sorry."

"Stuff got weird? Is that the excuse you're using?" You ask, entirely unconvinced by what he was telling you. "So, you staring down Eddie like you wanted to murder him isn't important? I shouldn't be worried about that?"

Steve looks away, jaw clenching. "I didn't think it would feel weird. But, I couldn't help it." He replies lamely, still not looking your way.

"Couldn't help what?" You ask, arms crossing over your chest, "Acting like a complete douche? It was a game, Steve." But, you were far past the point of it just being a game--you knew it was more to Steve, maybe not before, but definitely now.

"Just a game? So when you had your tongue shoved down Eddie's throat, that was just a game?" Steve turns toward you, eyes narrowing. You set yourself, brows furrowing in anger.

"So, you are jealous." Steve shakes his head in frustration, back turned toward you. "You're jealous that I kissed Eddie? Steve, I kissed you too, how does that make any sense?" He didn't even have the courage to look at you now, even after being so confrontational. "Steve, seriously?"

"Fuck this." He snaps, turning on his heels and stalking toward you, legs hitting the back of the worn out picnic table, sending you stumbling back, arm extended out in an effort to catch yourself, but Steve's hands are around you before you can even think, pulling you into him.

You hesitate for a split second, seeing his eyes scan over the expanse of your face, silently checking if you were okay--you were furious, but you couldn't help but want to lean in further, the tingle of alcohol filling your body. You sigh into Steve's mouth the moment it touches yours, immediately wrapping your arms around the expanse of his neck, allowing his hands to slip under your thighs and force you to be fully seated on the table now, wrapping your legs around his hips.

His tongue traces a line against your top lip, idle hand squeezing at the soft flesh of your waist, before delving into your mouth like he was a man dying of thirst, ready to bleed you dry. You fight back, lips pressing against his in an effort to gain an upper hand, fingers gently pulling at his hair. Steve moans outwardly, a filthy laugh slipping from his lips at the effort you were giving. "I guess I had a reason to be jealous, yeah?" He asks teasingly, his voice low and soft, only for your ears.

"Shut up." You bite back, pulling him back in for another kiss, leaving you practically breathless.

"Well, seems you two had a couple issues to work through." A voice bleeds through the trees, the familiar crackle of leaves coming closer and closer until..."Didn't think you had it in you, Harrington."

"Eddie." It's a warning. He knows it.

Eddie throws his hands up in defeat before resting them behind his back, slowly stepping closer. Steve was still pressed between your legs, but both of you were glued on Eddie and that stupid smirk he had.

"Don't act so innocent, sweetheart." He chides, his voice soft but condescending in it's tone. "You knew exactly what you were doing."

A step closer, than another, until he's practically kneeling on the bench beside you both, only a few inches away. "Steve's definitely got it out for you--problem is, I do too."

It couldn't have been more obvious, but the reality of hearing it fall from Eddie's mouth has your heart skipping a beat. Two of you bestfriends, two people you loved--it should feel wrong.

Eddie lets out a short chuckle, eyes dark, not soft like they usually are. He wasn't mad, you've known him long enough to understand what that looks like, but this--it was something else entirely. He leans in slowly, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You were too hyperaware of your position now--Steve crowded over you, Eddie pushed in beside you. Steve hadn't even bothered to move, to enraptured by the show Eddie was putting on, almost like he was amused by it. You glance over at Steve, his mouth hung open slightly, still caught up in all the emotion of the moment, his grip never faltering.

"You think Harrington likes to watch? Or maybe he'll join in?" Eddie asks teasingly, eyes glancing toward Steve. Steve's eyes flit toward Eddie quickly, before returning to your own, eyes glossing over slightly. "He does get a little feisty when he drinks, doesn't he?"

"Eddie, just get to the point." You beg tiredly, glancing up toward him now. Eddie smiles, but it's slight, barely noticeable at all. He's thinking, contemplating. But, it doesn't take long before Eddie's leaning forward, chin grasped between his fingers in an effort to maneuver your face toward him. It's surprisingly gentle, despite how aggressive it would look to anyone passing by, luckily you three were completely alone.

"Just couldn't resist another taste, sweetheart." Eddie flirted entirely to well, it was one of his more annoying traits. He flirted with everyone, anything, it wasn't something you ever put much thought into. But, this--this was dirty, this was real. "I'll let myself regret it in the morning."

But, it's you who closes that gap, hand reaching up to graze the side of Eddie's face, fingers catching in one of his curls. Steve's grip on your waist tightens, but he doesn't move, doesn't let go. He hasn't even made a sound. Eddie licks into your mouth, desperate for more of you, teeth grazing against your bottom lip, nipping gently. Eddie was messy with passion in the way that Steve was slightly more coordinated--and the idea that you were even comparing the two was insane, but that was a thought for a later time. There were more pressing issues at hand--like, Eddie pulling away to suck at a particular spot on your neck, allowing you to finally lock eyes with Steve again.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice was rough, eyes drawn to where Eddie was sucking along your neck. You couldn't even be bothered to answer, nodding quickly in response. He pulls you in carefully, the hand that wasn't holding your waist a featherlight touch against your thigh, pulling your leg higher up his hip. He didn't seem to mind that Eddie wanted to join in, but he wanted to make sure his presence was still known. Not like you could forget it--this would be burned into your mind forever.

You sigh, desperate for more and more touch, from either of them. It was driving you wild, the way Eddie was whispering in your ear, taking the time to claim up your skin with his own mouth, all while being devoured by Steve’s, his tongue breaching past your lips, desperate to pull any little sound he could out of you. Words were pointless, you couldn’t even form one. It wasn’t like you were drunk enough to the point where you couldn’t make a rational decision, not that anything was making sense right now, but you were definitely aware.

“Switch me, Harrington.” Eddie sighs out, hand reaching around to grip at the thigh that Steve wasn’t occupying, squeezing at the sensitive flesh. You whine softly, the cold sting of his rings a very prominent reminder. This was Eddie, your best friend, and Steve—also your best friend—how were you going to recover from this?

Steve doesn’t put up a fight, surprisingly, switching with Eddie quickly, hand wandering up your chest, slipping under the thin material of your shirt. “This okay?” He asks into crown of your head, mouth buried into your hair, squeezing at your breast, over the flimsy bralette that covered them.

“So okay. So much better than okay.” You confess, pleasure having taken over your rational thinking completely. You catch the glance that Eddie sends Steve's way, watching his hand disappear under your shirt. And for a split second, Steve locks eyes with him. They could've buried you six feet under at this point, not even feeling like you were in control of yourself anymore. But, the feeling of Eddie's lips brushing against your own has you jolting back to reality, your hand coming up to push his hair out of his face, delving into his mouth, a sloppy mess of tongue and spit, just like before.

It was a stark contrast, the way Eddie was ready to devour you whole, compared to Steve, who was sure of himself, but never taking a step too far without checking in with you. It had you reeling, two of the boys you care about most, drawing sounds out of you that you had no idea existed. You had to stop this at some point, before you three woke up the next morning, unable to look at each other.

You sighed, reaching back to rub tenderly at Steve's arm, pulling his attention away from where his face was buried in your neck, barely grazing Eddie's, but it's enough to interrupt him. He pulls back, eyes softer now.

"We have to stop." You say, regretfully. As much as you wanted to let the alcohol think for you, some things just couldn't get out of control, not this. "We can't do this."

They both pull back slowly, slightly dejected. "Sorry." Steve says softly, attempting to subtly adjust the front of his pants, but he fails.

"Damn, Harrington." Eddie laughs, finally pulling back, fishing his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. "You just keep surprising me."

"Shut up." Steve shoots back, but there's no real emotion behind it. He almost laughs at the absurdity of the situation, not having fully processed everything either.

"I need to get back before Robin comes looking for me." You tell them both, the flick of Eddie's lighter louder in the silence that had settled.

"Eh, I don't know about that." Eddie gives you a playful look, taking a long drag from the cigarette. "She might be a little busy."

"With?" You ask, eyeing him carefully.

"Let's just say, Wheeler was pretty eager to run off with her earlier," He glances over at Steve, then back at you, "and I definitely didn't catch them making out over by the parking lot."

"Damn, I didn't think Robin had it in her." Steve comments offhandedly, seemingly proud of his friend.

"God," You sigh, rubbing your hands over your face tiredly, "this is the last party I'm ever tagging along on."

"Probably a good idea," Eddie says, smiling down at you, "you might end up falling in love with us." It's a lame attempt at a joke, but the way your heart flutters scares you.

"Yeah." You force a laugh, pushing yourself off the table and attempting to walk back toward the wild group of drunk teenagers. The boys trail closely behind, exchanging glances between each other unbeknownst you. Steve shakes his head in disbelief.

"Hey!" You hear Robin yells, jogging toward you. Nancy was close behind her, an obvious pep in her step. You gave Robin a suspicious look, eyeing her up and down. "So, these two ever stop acting so grumpy?"

"Yeah." You say slowly, glancing over at Nancy, who was forcing herself to hide the obvious smile on her face. "They'll be okay, we talked it out."

"Good, at least they finally figured their shit out." Robin whispers to you, glancing up at the two boys who were both wearing the same pair of shit-eating grins on their face at the sight of their other two friends.

"I could say the same for you."

The look on Robin's face is priceless, sending you running in the direction of Steve's car at the startled yell of your name. "She's gonna kill you for that." Eddie comments, gasping for breath when you finally come to a stop, arm draped over your shoulder gently.

"I told you, she just needed a nudge." Steve smirks, jingling the keys to his car in front of you. "Need a ride?"

It didn't matter if you three ended up in the back of Steve's car that night, somehow in the same situation as earlier, you could regret it in the morning. But truthfully, that wasn't the last time—and none of you ever regretted it.

[weirdmorefics]

Hi if not to much trouble could you do a brigeton x brother reader where the brother gets into a fight and all of the family are really worried thank you, you're writing is absolutely amazing.

Bloody Gossip

A/N- Eek thank you so much for liking my writing. I appreciate it so much! I apologize for the long wait my computer is being a butt. It is from 2013 and I should probably get a new one lol.

Warnings- Blood 

Pronouns- He/Him

Word Count- 751

Summary- The Bridgerton’s are featured in Lady Whistledown’s newest paper due to some shocking events at last night's ball.

Eloise and I have always been the closest among our siblings. Mainly because I help her sneak out of events much to Mother's dismay. However, Mother threatened to put us in this season if we snuck out of this ball because she was tired of us skipping out on our social duties. So here we are me and Eloise hiding by the refreshments.

“You two couldn’t be more antisocial,” Benedict laughs at us.

“And you couldn’t be more annoying,” Eloise rolls her eyes.

“Could we stop arguing before Mother scolds us?” I ask.

“We are not arguing!” They say in unison. 

I raise my hands, “Of course, of course. Now if you don’t mind me I am going to try to find some lady to dance with me so Mother does not chastise me.”

“May we all pray for that young woman’s soul,” Benedict puts his hands in the prayer position.

“Ha ha, you are soooo funny,” I fake laugh and walk away.

Once I step away from my sibling's a man about Benedict’s age bumps into me. He quickly apologizes but seems to be happy once he realizes who I am.

“You’re Y/N Bridgerton, right?” The man asks and I nod hesitantly. “So you’re Eloise’s brother right?”

“Yes, that would be why we have the same last name and Mother,” I say sarcastically.

He ignores my comment, “Well, good! Then maybe you can give me a few tips on how to tame her.” I gag at his comment but he still continues. “I love the wild ones they’re so fun to break.”

“You do realize you are talking about my sister,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Of course I do! That’s why I’m talking to you, for tips. God, I hope your sister isn’t this dense. However, the denser the girl the easier she is to fool. I was going to go for Daphne but she seemed too dense it must run in the family.” He mocks.

That was my last straw how dare he insult my family. “I implore you to take that back. I will not stand for you to talk down about my family.” I respond and try to stand my ground.

“You do not seem to be the brightest out of your family. I suppose I’ll ask Anthony, maybe I can give him some tips on how to hide his rake tendencies in exchange.” 

I have had enough of this man so I give in and sucker punch him in the face. Sadly this does not go well for me because I have never been the strongest out of my brothers. The man returns my punch in the stomach and knocks me down. Then he proceeds to kick me while I'm down and I swear I see stars until my vision fades to nothing.

--------

I wake up very disoriented and see my very fuzzy siblings sleeping on the bed, chairs, and floor. I try to get up and a sore groan leaves my mouth. Next thing I knew my siblings are all waking up and rushing to get me things.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. You all can relax,” I groan.

“Yeah, you sure look fine,” Anthony says sarcastically.

I roll my eyes as but am interrupted by Eloise jumping onto the bed causing me to groan and Eloise to quickly apologize.

“Thanks to you Brother of mine we know that Lady Whistledown was at the ball and she was close enough to know to hear all the atrocious things that man was saying he shall never find a suitor now!” She laughs

“That also means everyone knows you stink at fighting,” Benedict laughs.

“Do not listen to them we were so worried never start a fight like that ever again. We could not sleep the whole night! We weren’t sure if you were going to make it! If you had just told me none of this would have happened.” Anthony says making me feel like the worst brother ever but he probably feels the same.

I assure Anthony I’m fine but he bosses me around and tells me I’m on bed rest. I’m lucky though that Eloise kept me up to date on all the drama and Gregory play many card games with me to keep me entertained. However, I am not sure I will ever be left alone again. I just have to remind myself that they do it out of love or else I think I may strangle them for their constant hovering.

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[the-fangirls-desk]

Take A Break (Hamilton x F!Reader)

Summary: Alexander Hamilton has once again hit that wall. Everyone knows the man can't wipe his own chin without you, so it's time for his weekly self care session.

Trope: Taking care of an overworked S/O

Warnings: Non explicit implied nudity (alex needs a bath) I swear it's just fluff!

AN: I suck at writing period/historical speech. I'm sorry XD There's plenty of historical inaccuracy (such as adding things that prolly didn't exist back then) since I'm writing about the Broadway portrayal of a young America. Let's be honest, it's more fun that way. Also that deleted rap from the Adams Administration? I had to incorporate it somehow!

An exasperated sigh escaped your lips as you dabbed your mouth with a cloth napkin. Dinner was delicious but not nearly as it could've been if company was involved. Many times you could handle being alone if it was necessary; that didn't mean you didn't need some attention now and then. Some people would argue your pet cat was more than enough to count as another head at the table; or at table leg to be more precise.

Honestly if it wasn't for him, there's no telling how much more lonely the house would be. He never made much noise or fuss, but his presence certainly made a difference in small ways. The brown feline you spoke of, Chestnut, was currently hunched over his tiny saucer, lapping up milk.

It was a treat he only got twice a week, so his excitement never ceased; he always hopped off his favorite spot by the window to race into the dining room when he heard the milk being poured into his dish.

No matter what most people say about cats, he was different. He seemed to be able to sense when you needed a friend, because the same days your loneliness was at its worst, he would tend to brush up against your legs more often, curl up in your lap and even eat slower at meal times so as to not leave you alone in the large dining room.

He was honestly the best gift Alexander had given you in a long time. Well, 'gift' may be a bit of a stretch; he was more like a...friend you were allowed to take in. Chestnut was only a kitten when you first met him. A feral kitten to be exact.

One year ago, while you were out on the front porch trying not to expire of boredom, the smallest little mewling broke your concentration. Your vision darted around, scanning all the obvious places it could've come from, and sure enough, a tiny brown head with eyes to match popped out from behind a bush near the porch.

The sight of the scrawny little thing broke your heart, and whether or not Alexander would've liked it, you fed the kitten every time he showed up, slowly gaining his trust as he slowly gained the much needed weight.

He wasn't hostile from the beginning either, he was quite gentle and a bit skittish as one would expect a frightened animal to be. But that never really caused concern. He needed you and that was that. From there, you ended up getting a daily visit from him around noon every day.

Your 'devious' little secret was uncovered a few months later on the rare occasion that Alexander somehow managed to will himself away from his writing desk to get some fresh air before diving headfirst into another mountain of paperwork.

It was nice to see him outside for once, but it was also annoying that the one time he picked to come outside was the same time Chestnut was on his way to get lunch from you. There was no telling if your husband would be alright with opening your arms and kitchen to an animal. It's not like you were throwing peanuts out to a few squirrels like the elderly ladies downtown did.

You were sipping warm tea on the large porch swing when a few light footsteps pattered in the front doorway. Sure enough, Alexander came out, hands behind his back and a light tired smile on his face.

"Alexander? What are you doing outside your office so early? It's not like you to even consider a break before dinner."

"Well good day to you too, my Dear." he chuckled.

"Now you know I didn't mean it that way. I'm just surprised to see you, that's all."

"I suppose I have been making myself a bit scarce as of late."

He just smiled a bit more and took a seat next to you on the swing. The gentle rocking it provided seemed to somewhat relax him and it quite nice to see his usually furrowed brows let go of the tension as well as that cursed throbbing forehead vein to stop convulsing. You swore, it going to burst wide open one day.

"My mind feels as cluttered as my office and I still have so much to do. I can normally fight the urge to procrastinate, but today was a must. I'll be back inside shortly, I just needed to get some air."

You pulled one of his hands into your lap, cradling it as if it may go limp at any second.

"You have no idea what a relief it is to see you taking a break, even if it's just for a moment. I worry about your health."

He kissed your hand in return.

"Yes my Dear, you tend to worry a bit too much about everyone else's health."

"I think I have the right to worry about my husband's more than anyone else's."

"You do and I appreciate it."

As sweet as it was for him to say, it was obvious he wasn't saying it with very much thought, so to get his attention, you firmly pulled your hand back.

"Then prove it."

"Prove it? How?"

"Don't worry about writing today; or at the very least, set an earlier time to stop working."

"(Y/N), you know it's not that simple."

"Don't I? Half the things you write are ideas of your own. It's not required you come up with new ideas for the government or the national bank every single day. You've already gotten your plan through Congress, would it really be asking too much of you to slow down a bit?"

"I suppose not." he sighed. "I'm just always thinking, coming up with something to write, it would feel like a crime to put my quill down."

"Even if it was just until the ink dried?"

His hands he left in your lap started to fidget and the leg he was previously using to rock the swing began bouncing in place.

"That sounds even worse honestly. Those few minutes that people take to step back and breathe from their work, they add up. They only remain a few moments for those few moments and before you know it, they've piled up hire than the bodies of the British we disposed of in Yorktown---"

"Alexander." You had to firmly speak in order to get his attention when he trailed off like that.

"I'm sorry, I was doing it again, wasn't I?"

He felt a bit more guilt pang at his chest when you silently nodded in return.

"Well if you're not going to slow down, why don't you stay for a bit longer? My friend should be stopping by any minute now."

"New friend? You haven't mentioned them before, have you?"

"No, I don't think I have. I promise you though, you'll find him quite charming."

"Him??" Alexander's voice suddenly became tense and dare you say, jealous? Since when did he care so much about what you got up to? Yes he ws your husband but he certainly never acted like it.

"Darling, it's nothing like that, it's--"

Meow! Chestnut's little fluffy brown head popped out from the greenery.

"There you are! Alexander, meet Chestnut!"

"A cat. Your new friend is a cat..." Alexander flatly finished for you. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't feeling an enormous wave of relief wash over him.

"A very sweet one! He's so well behaved for a feral creature. Even back when I started feeding him a few months ago he never showed any hostility towards me."

"You've been feeding a feral cat for months without telling me? When were you going to say anything?"

"I didn't think it was something vital to tell you. I don't see what the harm is in feeding something that's hungry. Besides when do I have a chance to tell you anything? If you're not locked up in your office, you're asleep in the bedroom and in both those places you hate being disturbed."

Alexander almost felt as if you'd somehow slapped him across the face without even managing to lay a finger on him. He hated when you pulled that card; mostly because you were right.

"There's plenty wrong with it! The more you feed him, the more he'll visit, demanding and expecting food. He's not a pet, why make him feel like one?"

"Did that top notch brain of yours ever stop to think that just maybe I needed a friend? Someone to talk to? Possibly even someone to just listen to me? I know that this is the age of men and I'm just your wife but I'm still a person with feelings."

'Just your wife?' How could you think such a thing? Alex didn't realize just how lonely he'd really left you in exchange for the siren call of a mistress he could never ignore: work. His actions may have said otherwise but It was no secret he thought the world of you. To hear someone so wondeful speak so terribly about themselves left him bewildered. And the crack in your voice as you tried to hold back tears? Heart shattering.

Everything within his being told him to hold you close and tight.

Before you knew it, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"Oh my Love...please don't ever speak so lowly of yourself ever again. You are far from 'just my wife.' You are the reason I'm still here. If it wasn't for you, I never would have had a reason to return from the war.

I never would've lasted through my writing. How many times have you pulled me away from my desk to make me eat, sleep, bathe? You are---"

Meow!

Chestnut didn't seem to like seeing you sad on top of Alex's nonstop talking.

"Alexander may we please keep him? He needs a family and I need the companionship; I promise he won't be any trouble!"

It's like everything he just said went through one ear and out the other and that hurt. He couldn't blame you. He'd said those exact words more than once and they while were completely honest, his words still spoke much louder than his actions.

He had to figure out some way to get himself to stop working so much so you could get the attention you deserved. Perhaps he should take your advice and stop working earlier today---wait no...

Not today. He still has so much to write down before it escapes him. If it was something that the new nation could benefit, and he didn't couldn't recall it later, forgiving himself would be impossible. But you were right again, you needed something to keep the loneliness away.

As much as he detested the idea of letting a feral animal into the house and making it permanent, he knew this was the very least he could do until he could put his work aside. So with a reluctant sigh, he nodded.

"Very well. I suppose it wouldn't hurt too much to give him a home; but it would be best if we called for a veterinarian first. I'm sure he's gentle with you, but he could be carrying some kind of disease for all we know."

That was fair. More than fair.

"Tomorrow, (Y/N)."

"Hmm?"

"Tomorrow I'll start slowing down on my work. I'm plenty ahead now but these pages in particular cannot wait."

"Alright then. Thank you."

He was going to go back on his word and you knew it. This promise had been made too many times to believe him anymore. The only thing keeping you from pointing out his obvious half hearted promise was the fact that you now had his blessing to keep your new friend.

Words couldn't describe your joy when the vet had given Chestnut a remarkably clean bill of health. The only recommendations that really had to be given was to feed him a bit more protein. He even gave you tips on how to carefully bathe your feline without frightening him and having to submerge him in a bucket of water.

Barely a week had gone by when Alexander hestiantly found himself falling for the cat's quiet charms. There were many times where you walked into his office, stressing about something he had to write, something Jefferson said, only for Chestnut to come to the rescue by rubbing against Alex's leg or hopping up on the desk to request a few scratches behind his ears.

Even though Chestnut was the one getting attention, Alex seemed to find it soothing to pet the cat and receive a long chain of purring in return.

.

.

.

One year later and he was still keeping both yours and Alex's sanity in check with his mere presence. How Chestnut didn't seem to mind all the frustated tension between you and your husband was beyond a miracle.

It's a good thing too, because tonight, the seat across the table from you, the same one that Alexander once regualrly occupied, was once again empty. His plate remained untouched and every morsel of food had gone cold. See? Nothing ever changed with him. Oh your love for him hadn't run out, not in the slightest. Your patience, however, was a completely different story.

Alexander was even more worked up than usual as of late. The amount of hours he used to work on end were now mere child's play compared to now. Just two weeks ago, that sorry excuse of a leader, President John Adams had the nerve to fire your husband and privately call him a 'creole bastard'.

As a result, he came home that very day, locked his office door and stepped out only a handful of times since. He wrote letter after letter, verbally destroying Adams, practically shouting from the rooftops why the man in question should be mobbed and replaced.

A side effect that came with his rage was even more self neglect. Getting a full night's rest and decent amount of nutrients in his system now seemed like a dream to achieve; it was getting to be extremely concerning.

He already had a reputation for being firey and was proud of his immigrant background. Why shouldn't he be? He came from basically nowhere and used his mind to write his way out. But using it as ammunition from a place of hate?

He would never let that go until he destroyed his enemies through the power of his weapons of choice: the quill and ink. During the war, he'd may have killed an impressive amount of British soldiers, but the body count on the battlefield was nothing compared to the lives he destroyed from his office desk. Alexander Hamilton, just as deadly with a pen than with a gun. It was honestly a chilling a truth.

How many times you debated whether or not to hide his writing supplies, you didn't know. But it was many more times than the average person would imagine.

Suddenly a loud thud from the upstairs office broke your concentration and caused Chestnut to jump from his spot and hide under the table. His defensive hissing told you that every animal within a five mile radius could sense the secretary's tension. It was time for him to stop. At least for today.

After giving your furry friend an assuring pet, you gathered up a breath big to enough to push you out of the chair. If quiet enough, one could hear a muffled voice, carrying on and on without any breaths in between. The higher you ascended up the stairs, the clearer the voice could be heard. The voice was just speaking, it was shouting.

"Oh not again."

Alexander had a tendency to recite his letters out loud as to get a clear concise reading of his progress; these letters in particular were coming from a place of indignance, which meant his yelling was also coming from true anger and most likely sending his blood pressure through the roof.

It didn't seem to stop until you knocked on the door three times.

After hearing a bunch of papers rustling, he cleared his throat and calmly spoke.

"Come in."

You peeked your head in, only to see the horrific but familiar sight of his office. It somehow managed to look like a post-riot site; papers everywhere, overused quills on the floor, and countless ink bottles on his desk drained of their life force. The amount of empty cups stained with old coffee and tea on his already askewly arranged bookshelves was astonishing.

And then there was the man himself; Alexander could've easily been mistaken for a hostage. It wasn't abnormal for him to regularly look run down due to his inability to stop and breathe. But this? This was too much, even for him.

His usually slicked back hair was frazzled, falling more forward and clearly overdue to be washed. The brown irises that many women had spoke highly of were no longer sharp and focused; they were glazed and sparkless, undeniably being weighed down into the sinkholes under his eyes.

As if the unbuttoned shirt and missing jacket wasn't odd enough, he was clearly putting off any kind of personal hygiene.

When was the last time he shaved?

This didn't look like the Hamilton everyone had come to know and love...or loathe depending on who you are.

"(Y/N), please come in, my Dear, I want you to hear this."

Come in? Now he really must have lost touch.

"I'm nearly finished with this latest letter; the volume I've written just about Adams alone will certainly have him weeping and running back to his wife."

After clearing his throat once more, you unintentionally jumped back as he began to yell his latest page.

"An open letter to the FAT, ARROGANT, ANTI CHARASMATIC NATIONAL EMBARRASSMENT KNOWN AS PRESIDENT JOHN ADAMS---"

"Alexander..."

"THE MAN IS IRRATIONAL, HE CLAIMS THAT I'M LEAGUE WITH THE BRITISH IN SOME VAST NATIONAL INTRIGUE?"

"Alexander."

He just wouldn't stop. His face getting redder by the moment, his eyes becoming more manic as he continued. You decided it was best to sit by and let him get it out. It was hard to remain neutral as half a minute passed and his tone was now incredibly frightening.

Finally enough was enough.

"Alexander!"

He froze in place at your unsually sharp call.

"Yes?" he asked, basically whispering now.

"Darling, you've been locked in here for a week now; don't you think it's time for a break?"

He looked at you as if you were growing a second nose.

"A break? No! How could I possibly stop now when I'm so close to being finished?"

That's when your eyes darted to his desk; you realized the only orderly item in his office was a pile of papers neatly stacked. It looked like enough pages to fill at least one-fourth of an encyclopedia. You knew he was angry about losing his job, but this wasn't just anger. It was pure rage and fury.

You walked over to carefully examine his work.

"Oh please be careful! It's taken me hours to properly arrange them."

You nodded and gingerly took a page from the pile, quickly scanning it over with your eyes. Every word across the paper told of his hatred for the country's current leader; and what viscious words they were. How did he even manage to fill this many pages with such consistency?

No wonder he looked as if he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. One week, locked in here without barely eating or sleeping...

That brilliant mind of his never really stopped working, did it? It couldn't be. On a good day it could only be slowed down, which is exactly what you intended to do now.

"So what do you think? Will they destory John Adams?"

Just tell him what he wants and just maybe you'll have a chance at getting him out of here.

"Uh yes. They absolutely will; as a matter a fact, these papers you have now are more than enough to make him crumble."

He chuckled and let out a sigh of relief as tipped forward a bit, leaning against the desk in an effort to hold himself up since it seemed like far too much work for his legs alone to do it anymore.

"Yes..."

And you weren't lying either. the things he was saying in these letters were enough to make an entire army of grown men cry tenfold. It was just a fiery reign of words, it was complete assault and overkill. The chuckle slightly elevated into a small bout of manic giggles. The type that you hear when someone is trying to contain their laughter because the situation was too inappropriate to laugh at.

"Yes." he repeated, a look of tired victory on his face.

The only thing to do now was to get him out of the room. So with the utmost care, you wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"Alexander you missed dinner again."

"I-I know. I'm so sorry, I just couldn't afford to abandon my work when nearly finished. It would've been impossible to enjoy myself."

He tried to lean in for a kiss but you had to gently push him away.

"I'm sorry. You don't smell very good at the moment."

The embarrassment on his face was painfully clear.

"Ah. I suppose it's been a while since I last cleaned up."

"Well you've certainly done a lot in the past week. Why not allow me to run you a hot bath? You can come back in here if you want after, but you may as well be fresh."

After clearly debating with himself for a little, his shoulders dropped and he sighed again.

"That would be nice."

Success. Somewhat. By some miracle, The Alexander Hamilton was actually allowing you to lead him out of his 'weaponry' and to the washroom that sat adjacent to the bedroom.; a place he had completely forgotten existed. The amount of time it took to heat up the water and fill the bathtub went on longer than you wanted; it left your arms and back screaming already before even getting your husband in the tub. The only silver lining in this, was being able to convince the worn secretary to just sit on the bed and not move a muscle.

He wasn't even fighting you on it anymore. The fatigue that weighed down on his mind and body were now impossible to ignore. When exiting the bathroom, you found him still on the bed, staring off into space, nearly catatonic.

It took a bit of shaking him to get his attention.

"Your bath is ready. I took the liberty of putting in some lavender oil and bathing foam to help you relax."

The absolute amount of fondness in eyes were glazing over with tears as he gently took you by the wrist.

"Thank you so much my Love. I don't think I'd even be here without you."

"I know you wouldn't be here without me." you joked, "but that's enough thinking for now; go wash up and don't be afraid to call me for anything."

He kissed your hand and found enough strength to walk into the bathroom.

.

.

.

"(Y/N)!" a weak voice called from the bathroom. You were sitting on the bed reading a book.

Alexander couldn't have been left alone in there for more than ten minutes.

Upon opening the bathroom door, you were greeted with the sight of Alexander still lying in the tub, a blanket of bubbles from the soap still completely covering his form. His neck looked so uncomfortable. The extra bath supplies seemed untouched for the most part.

"Yes? What is it Darling?"

His expression told you it was embarrassing, but he needed you.

"My hair, I can't wash it; It seems that hunching over my desk and writing so much after so long has left my arms and hands so tired and sore. I managed to wash myself but my arms just don't seem to want to lift anymore. Would you please help me?"

"Of course I will."

Thankfully, there was already a stool in by the elbaorate towel/storage cabinet that could be used as a seat. After pulling it up close the tub's edge, you positioned yourself behind Alexander and began to work on his hair; starting off by taking a pitcher and scooping up a large amount of water to wet his raven locks.

Another relaxed sigh escaped him as the still hot water flooded across his scalp and rained down the tightened muscles in his neck and upper back. With him having such thick hair, it took a few minutes and more than one rinse to prep him. You didn't mind one bit though.

He was finally away from that desk, allowing himself to just exist in this moment. It was enough.

Once his hair was wet enough, he handed you the bar of soap being previously used to wash his body. Not even he could muster the mental capacity to describe the euphoria he felt when your lathered hands massaged against his head. Alex even began to exhibit almost cat-like behavior when your nails raking across his scalp left an ever so slight but delightful burn in their wake.

"Does that feel good?" you giggled.

"It feels divine. I'm not sure I can sit up much longer."

"Here, I know how to fix that."

Your fingers brushed his hair over the front of his shoulders; it made it a lot easier to grab an extra towel off the cabinet and fold it into a tight roll form to place against the back of his neck. He could feel you gently usher him to lean back.

"How's that?"

"It's wonderful. I just may fall asleep in here if you continue."

"Before you get too relaxed, I should take the opportunity to give you a shave. I havent seen your beard this full since you returned from Yorktown."

"That bad, huh?"

"Atrocious."

The laughter exchanged felt like breath of fresh air.

While men mostly relied on their barbers for a shave, you'd learned how to properly groom your husband's face due to the fact he never really took care of himself.

"Here, put this warm damp cloth over your face."

"Trying to slience me, are you?"

"Don't be so dramatic! I have to prepare your skin to avoid little cuts."

"Very well."

At least you knew he wouldn't be fidgeting during this. The only times Alexander Hamilton was capable of sitting still was when he was too tired to move, or when a razor was too close to his throat.

But it wasn't just that. He trusted you more than anyone else in his life; you could never purposely hurt him.

After spreading the shave solution over his face, you got to work. He found the gentle sliding motion of the blade crossing his skin to be so soothing; for the first time in a while he didn't have to worry about anything. All that was required, was for him to sit back and let you take control for a while.

Of course something as simple as that could be a mountainous task for him. A self starter since adolescence, Alexander learned to do everything by himself far too early; as a result he had a difficult time asking or relying on anyone else.

Now here he was; at your complete mercy...this was an honor to say the very least.

"Should I shave it all off, or would you prefer I try to just groom it?"

"If you could, I'd still like some hair left."

You kissed him on the forehead.

"I'll do my best."

He couldn't tell how much time had passed upon closing his eyes, but for once it didn't matter.

A while later he opened his eyes to you running a damp washcloth over the remaining shaving cream. He was handed a small mirror.

"What do you think?" you asked.

"It's perfect. Excellent precision!"

It was pretty good, even you had to admit. His facial hair was now groomed into a much more clean cut beard-mustache combination, while the rest of his skin was smooth as butter, free from the cursed stubble that caused an overcast on his throat.

"Now let's get back to your hair."

In between the lathering, your hands would occasionally wander down to his shoulders, kneading out as much tightness as possible, which was no easy feat in the slightest. The bundled up nerves felt like hardened clay; so stiff and rigid!

Alexander didn't think it could get any better. Despite his intelligence, he was at a loss for words; what did he do to deserve you? That's exactly the issue. He did nothing, you looked at this bastard oprhaned immigrant and saw someone worth loving. The very thought was enough to drive him to tears every time.

But it blinking them away was easier this time since he had become so malleable to your touch.

Little by little, his body showed signs of slowing unwinding. His head completely relaxed against the towel behind his neck, both shoulders drooped further down away from his ears and his breathing was significantly deeper.

Inhaling the lavender oil in the bath water seemed to be wafting over him, almost like a magic spell.

A few more moments passed and after rinsing his hair out, you finished him off with some gentle pressure to his temples and jaw. While he wasn't quite asleep, he was definitely oblivious to his surroundings.

You used the utmost care to slide both hands away from his finally still form in order to step back and admire your handiwork. The clicks of your heels remained unheard by him as you sneaked around the side of the tub.

It provided a much better look at his face.

This was not Alexander Hamilton in the best possible way. With a head still full of soap, he remained limp against the tub; eyes shut, neck loose and lips slightly parted from his jaws finally relaxing.

No longer were his expressive eyebrows furrowed together or his nose not scrunched up in anger like it usually was when he went toe to toe with Jefferson.

You dare say he almost looked at least five years younger. The only tell that betrayed his face, were the dark shadows being cast under his eyes from the constant sleep depravity. If only there was some way to get him to sleep regularly...

By now, the blanket of bubbles in the tub were thinning down into a sheet. The water had to be cold by now. It almost felt like a legal offense to wake him, but he needed a comfortable place to lay.

"Alexander? Love?"

His eyes slowly opened, revealing a tired glaze over his rich brown irises. He looked so relaxed, It'd be easy to mistake him for being drugged.

"It's time to get out, the water's cold."

"Oh alright." he sighed.

"Do you need help getting out?"

"No thank you, I'll manage; just give me a moment."

"Take as long as you need. Your nightwear is by the sink, I'll be back in few minutes."

"Where are you going?"

"To make you some tea and something small to eat. I'd prefer to give you a full meal, but it's too late for that and you're so tired right now."

"I don't deserve you."

.

.

.

Returning to the bedroom ten minutes later, you found Alex on the bed, tucked under the covers, decked in glasses and night shirt with an open book in hand; it seems he found enough motivation to brush his hair as he waited.

To make things even better, Chestnut was laying by his side and receiving light scratches along his spine. It was a sight you wished you could have in a portrait. Both of them looked so relaxed, you didn't want to disrupt them, especially with the cat happily purring.

"I'm back, I brought you a cup of tea and some toast; it's not much but I'd rather you not go to sleep on an empty stomach."

"Thank you, Lovely."

"Just what do you think you're doing with that book? Not trying to wake your mind up more I hope."

"Only some light reading, I promise."

It was hard not to catch a glance at the cover.

"'Cecilia'? You consider the memoirs of an English heiress to be light reading?"

"It's interesting!"

"Well put it down and get some nourishment in you before this cools down."

"Must I now? This novel is so captivating."

"How about I read it out loud while you eat?"

"Very well."

A few minutes later after changing into your night gown, you settled into bed and took over the reading for Alexander. Chestnut obediently moved himself to the end of the bed as not to get in the way.

The first taste of the tea and toast he had took away any remaining resistance he had towards relaxation. The warmth it provided on the inside was like the embrace of a caring friend.

You had to admit, the novel really was interesting; no wonder why Alexander felt the need to keep reading. Page after page, the narrative grew increasingly more captivating. So captivating in fact, that it completely took you by surprise when he finally laid down and wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Alexander?"

"Keep reading, please. I love hearing you read." he said, snuggling further into your side.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. It'll help me sleep."

Could it be? He was finally ready to get some rest? To do anything against his wishes now would be foolish. Of course you would keep reading; anything to help. Only this time you let one of your hands absent mindedly stroke his still damp hair.

It didn't matter.

Five minutes and four pages later, a muffled snoring emitted from the limp form by your side. At last, sweet relief for both him and you, even if it was just for tonight.

Without his knowledge, he received one more kiss on the head.

"Sweet dreams, Alex."

THE END.

Posted: December 5th, 2021

Tags: @beecastle