#I love everybody in this bar let it be very clear

[somuchbetterthanthat]

[don't mind me, playing with the dolls]

I like the idea that Louisa slowly uncover that everybody around her is some shade of queer and she's over there, being allo and cis and het. Never crosses her mind for it to be a discussion for the longest time, like, she loves Gemma and Charlotte, she hugs Melissa after Melissa explains the struggle of being aro, she doesn't blink when Michael talks about dating guys before (she's more surprised Michael never dated Leon, but then again, Leon was straight, right? Michael stares at her when she says that, and she's like "what?" and Michael is like "Er, nothing just, er, Leon definitely wasn't straight" "so you DID date" she exclaims victoriously and Michael is like "NO why does everybody -- okay no, I know why everybody thinks that, but we didn't.")

At this point, she accidentally comes across Mallory on a cute date with a college girl she's like "sure, sure" but she does ask vaguely to Dimitri if he's okay with it and Dimitri is like "??? why would not I be???" which is how Louisa ends up - after a very odd and convoluted discussion with him - realizing that Dimitri never felt any sort of sexual or romantic attraction to anyone, ever; which. Fine, sure, of course, but she's talking with Isabelle at some point and Isabelle fondly mentions an old girlfriend and

Look. Louisa doesn't mean to interrogate Nica. It's not what this is! It's friendly talk, it's girl talk, they do that! (they don't. their relationship is strong and fragile all at once, and she's been trying to be mindful with her, but it's lingering in her head and turning and turning) and Nica is like "Okay seriously what is this? Are you trying to guilt me for having had sex with Emily? Because, listen, I do feel guilty, but it's really not about what you think this is about and -"

and then Louisa is like "EMILY? Emily too?"

"What...do you mean, Emily too?" Nica asks, baffled and slowly realizing she might be missing something here.

Louisa is, of course, well aware of how silly this is all being, so she changes the subject and they politely ignore the fact Nica admitted to sleeping with Emily "worst nightmare of redline" Bespin, and then she goes home to her lovely trans boyfriend and she's finally caves in and calls Gemma;

"Am I your token straight friend?"

"Sure," Gemma says, rolling with the punch immediately. "We still love and accept you as you are though."

[pedrospatch]

We love a writing prompt challenge - I'd love to see what you do with post!outbreak Joel and ❛ what if i hurt you? ❜

smut prompt challenge

Thank you so much for sending this one in to me my darling! <3 I decided to be a little adventurous with this one, I hope you like it. Also, it turned out to be a longer than I meant to, it was supposed to just be a blurb/short drabble and it turned into a 3k oneshot. Whoopsie. I am not at the point where I can write smut with no plot, I have to have at least a teensy bit of plot lmao.

pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

warnings/tags: 18+ only, minors dni. explicit. post outbreak, set in Jackson. established relationship. jealous/possessive/slightly intoxicated Joel. reader is just a lil bit toxic too. rough sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, bit of spanking, praise and pet names. very lightly implied age gap (reader is referred to as kid by an older side character but she’s in her mid to late 20s, Joel is canon age, mid 50’s; purely self indulgent with the age thing tbh) okay, I think I got it all.

word count: 3k

“Alright kid, I’m heading out for the night,” Seth announced, flipping off all of the lights inside of The Tipsy Bison. He made sure to leave one last dim yellow light on for you so that you could finish cleaning up around the bar. He tossed you a set of keys to the building from where he stood near the front door. As he shrugged into his blue denim jacket, he asked you one last time, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay locking up the place all on your own at this hour?”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. You walked over towards him, twirling the set of keys between your fingers. “Oh please. What could possibly happen to me in a secured, gated community where everybody knows everybody, Seth?” You questioned him, shaking your head slightly. “And besides, it’s not like we’ve got a register full of cash just waiting to be robbed. It’s the end of the world, so I think I’ll be just fine closing up shop.”

“Well, you got me there,” he sniffed. “I suppose I don’t have anything to worry about.” He paused, lowering his voice as he added, “And much less when you have your very own guard dog sitting over there and keeping his watchful eye on you.”

You glanced over your shoulder at Joel. He was sitting at the opposite end of the long bar nursing what had to be his third or fourth glass of barrel aged bourbon; even after all the shit you two had been through together over the last several months while making the dangerous and violent trek across the country, Joel had never, not once, behaved like this with you. He had never been this ridiculously overprotective of you, not until you’d begun working as one of the evening bartenders at The Tipsy Bison. He wasn’t all too fond of your new role in Jackson, and he’d made it abundantly clear by dropping in late at night to make sure the rowdier male patrons who would frequent the bar after evening patrol were behaving, keeping their hands to themselves—and off of his girl.

You turned back to Seth, flashing him a sheepish, apologetic smile. “Look, I know he can be kind of rough around the edges sometimes. But he’s not all that bad, you know?”

“Kind of rough around the edges? One look from Miller can send anyone running for their lives in the other fucking direction,” he remarked with an amused snort as he pushed the door open. “Be sure to turn off that last light before you leave, kid. Oh, and don’t forget that I’m going need you here tomorrow at three for the opening shift, alright?”

“Got it. See you tomorrow,” You said, giving him a little wave as he left. You pulled the door closed and locked it behind him, giving it a gentle tug to make sure it was secure. Shoving the set of keys into the back pocket of your light blue denim cut off shorts, you made your way back across the quiet, empty bar and over towards Joel. You let out a soft sigh, lightly draping an arm around his shoulders. “Joel, please. It’s almost one o’ clock in the morning. I still have quite a bit to do around here before I can leave,” You stated. You reached up, affectionately running your fingers through his graying, dark brown curls. “You have patrol duty in a few hours. Go home and get some sleep. I’ll be fine on my own.”

He scoffed. “Ain’t no way in fuckin’ hell I’d let you walk home alone at this hour.”

You sighed again, withdrawing your hand from his hair as you stepped back.

Joel turned on the bar stool he’d been perched on for most of the night, his dark brown eyes taking the sight of you in; they glazed over your fitted, tight black tee shirt with a neckline that scooped way too low and exposed too much skin for his liking. His lips pressed together into a thin, tight line as his gaze wandered down further, noticing how the frayed hem of your cut offs fell a couple of inches above the middle of your thighs. “You really gotta fuckin’ wear that outfit every night?” 

You glanced down at yourself, frowning. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“I just don’t fuckin’ like it,” he muttered gruffly, his fingers holding onto his glass of whiskey in a near death grip. “You’re showin’ off way too goddamn much. Every fucker you served tonight got more than a fuckin’ eyeful. I probably watched ‘bout a dozen idiots stare at your tits and openly flirt with you right in front of me, you know that?”

“There’s a reason why this is the uniform I have to wear, Joel,” You teased with a giggle, hoping to ease the tension that was practically radiating off of the man.

“You fuckin’ enjoyin’ this?” He asked bitterly as he glared at you. He drained the rest of his drink and slammed the empty glass down onto the counter with a little more force than what was necessary. His jealousy was seeping out of him, and you’d be a damned dirty liar if you said you didn’t find it so incredibly hot. 

“Mm, just a little bit,” You replied with another tiny giggle. You leaned up against the bar and crossed your arms over your chest, your gaze meeting his; you noticed the way the seething anger flashed in his dark eyes. His raw, raging emotions were only exacerbated by the amount of bourbon he’d had to drink that night. “Oh lighten up, Joel! I’m only kidding and you know that. Listen, the outfit and the flirting, it’s just part of my job as a bartender. It’s something that all the girls around here have to do. I’m just eye candy for the lonely and horny patrolmen who have nothing better to do with their free time. Besides, Seth makes it very clear to all the fucking guys around here that they can look but they can’t touch—”

“I don’t give a fuck!” Joel snarled, suddenly rising to his feet. “I don’t give a fuck if they don’t touch you, alright? I don’t want those bastards lookin’ at you, hell I don’t even want any of them so much as fuckin’ breathin’ in your direction!” He drew closer towards you, his voice going so dangerously low it sent a little chill right up the length of your spine. “You’re mine, you fuckin’ understand me? You are mine.” 

Your playful smile faded slightly. 

His possessiveness should have bothered you. It should have angered you, even. You were a human being, not his piece of property. But as you drank in the sight of him, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides, the way his nostrils flared, and not to mention that all too familiar murderous look in his eye, you couldn’t help the wanting heat that flooded your lower belly.

“Then take me,” You murmured, your voice soft.

Joel sobered up ever so slightly. “What?”

“I didn’t stutter, Joel. I said, take me.”

Joel stared at you, mouth agape. “You’ve lost your damn mind. We’re in a fuckin’ bar—”

“A dimly lit, locked bar with no one else around,” You smirked, pulling your top down to expose the black lace bra you wore underneath. “You say I’m yours, so show me. Right here, right now.”

Joel’s cock twitched behind his zipper, his mouth going dry when he caught a glimpse of the way the soft, delicate lace hugged the delicious curve of your breasts. He opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him as he watched you bite down on your bottom lip and tilt your head up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently—you knew how to play him just like a fucking fiddle. 

“Baby, no. Not here.”

You pouted playfully. “Don’t you want me?”

“Not like this,” he rasped, although the continued straining against the dark blue denim of his jeans stated otherwise. “I’m drunk, I’m pissed off—I just don’t trust myself with you right now.”

You smiled sweetly at him and stepped forward to shrink the gap of distance between your bodies.

You slid your hands underneath his brown jacket and pushed it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. You placed a hand on his chest, right over his heartbeat as your eyes met his. “I trust you.”

He rigidly shook his head. “What if I hurt you?”

“I trust you,” You reassured him. “Please, Joel. I just need you to fuck me, right here, right now. I need you to show me that I’m all yours. Yours and only—”

Joel didn’t even bother to let you finish.

He reached out for you and pulled your body flush against his, his mouth crashing violently against yours; his tongue darted through your parted lips, dominating your own in a way that made you melt into a submissive little puddle right in his large hands. He wasted no time, moving his lips down to your neck where he started nipping and biting at your delicate flesh with his teeth—hard enough that your silky skin would be covered in discolored marks tomorrow. But any worries about him being too rough had gone out the window. He wanted to mark his territory. He wanted every motherfucker in Jackson to know you belonged to him.

“Joel,” You moaned out his name and clutched fistfuls of his dark green flannel shirt.

He said nothing, allowing his mouth to continue ravaging you as his hands started ridding you of your clothes; he broke contact for as second, just long enough to pull your shirt over your head. You aided him and reached around yourself to unhook your bra, carelessly tossing it somewhere behind the bar. Your shorts and matching lace underwear came off next, along with your tan brown cowboy boots. 

Normally, Joel would take his time. He’d kiss and worship his way across every inch of your entire body, but not tonight—no, tonight he was going to take you quickly, roughly. Between all the alcohol and his pent up frustrations, being gentle was the very last thing on his mind.

“C’mere.” Joel yanked you over towards a small, square wooden table just a few feet away from the bar, the same damn table where patrons would enjoy their after work duty drinks. He gripped the back of your neck and shoved you down, bending you right over the table; you let out a little gasp as your warm, naked body hit the cold, laminated wood. His rough, calloused hands glided their way down your smooth back and he took a single step backwards to admire the view. “Open up for me, sweetheart. Let me see you—all of you.”

You glanced over your shoulder at him with lustful, hooded eyes. Biting your lower lip, you did as you were told and spread your legs, your entire body erupting in goosebumps as the chilly air coming from the vents of the building hit your throbbing center. 

Joel groaned, noticing the way your inner thighs were slick, coated with your own arousal. “Look at you, my pretty girl. Already soakin’ wet for me and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Giggling, you turned away from him and pushed your feet apart even wider. You then opened your mouth to speak, but instead let out a loud yelp when you felt him deliver a swift but harsh strike to your ass with the palm of his hand. 

He’d never fucking done that before.

Joel began kneading at the spot he’d just struck you with his fingers so aggressively that you were certain you’d find bruises there in the morning. 

The thought alone made you drip onto the floor.

“Joel—” You lifted yourself slightly off of the table.

“Stay down,” he commanded, pushing you back down.

You nodded and pressed your cheek flat against the table, your wet, aching walls clenching in pure anticipation as you heard his belt buckle clinking followed by the sweet sound of his zipper coming undone. Seconds later, the tip of his rock hard length pressed against your drenched slit.

You spread your legs even wider, prompting Joel to chuckle.

“You want me bad, don’t you my little darlin’?” he nearly taunted you. “Hm? You want me inside that pretty little pussy?”

“God yes I do—please fuck me,” You pleaded him. “Please, Joel. Please.”

He hummed. “Since you’re bein’ an awfully good girl and askin’ so politely…”

Joel didn’t even finish his sentence. There was a momentary pause and before you could ask him what the hell he was waiting for, he slammed into you, sheathing himself in your tight heat.

No warning. No warmup.

No time for you to think about anything except for the feeling of his thick, hard cock filling you up and stretching you completely.

You gasped out as all the air left your lungs. “Joel!”

Gripping your shoulders, he slid himself out of you entirely before delivering another powerful blow, one that had you seeing fucking stars. He didn’t give your body any time to adjust to him as he began to thrust, picking up a wild pace that you felt would split you in half if he didn’t ease up.

He’d fucked you plenty of times before—but never like this.

Senseless.

You gripped the edges of the table, gasping for a breath—you tried to cry out, but when you opened your mouth, all that came out were quick, pathetic little pants, desperate for air.

It hurt.

But the kind of hurt that felt so fucking good that you wanted more and more of it.

“You look so goddamn pretty, takin’ my cock like that,” Joel grunted out. His hands had abandoned your shoulders in favor of your hips, his fingers bruising the soft flesh there. “What a fuckin’ good girl you are for me, baby. Such a good girl—”

Planting your shaky hands on the table top, you pushed yourself up.

Joel’s hands left your hips. He slid an arm around your shoulders, pulling your naked back against his broad, clothed chest where he held you firmly in place as he continued to fuck you into oblivion with his barbaric, almost animalistic thrusts. 

“Who do you belong to?” he whispered into your ear, his other hand resting on your stomach. “Tell me, darlin’. Who do you belong to?”

“You,” You somehow managed to choke out a reply between gasps. “I belong to you, Joel.”

“Yeah? You’re mine? All fuckin’ mine?”

You could only nod your head in response.

Joel’s arm around you tightened. “Say it,” he demanded. “I need you to say it.”

“I’m yours, all fucking yours!”

His hand moved from your stomach and dove between your thighs, two of his fingers finding your clit as swollen and sensitive as it had ever been. His digits circled the bundle of nerves, causing your legs to tremble as you felt the beginning of an orgasm coiling tight in your lower belly.

“Oh fuck,” You breathed out in a moan. “Joel, I’m gonna—”

“Come for me baby,” he encouraged you huskily, his breath hot against your ear. “I want you to come all over my cock like the good girl you are.”

Finally, you managed to find your cries inside of you; they tore themselves from your throat where they had been lodged, echoing throughout the entire, empty bar as you came undone, your walls clenching tightly around him.

“Fuck baby,” Joel released a deep, guttural groan and shoved you back over the table, pinning you down on it with both his hands as he spilled inside of you.

He leaned over you, his body hovering over yours as the two of you took a minute to catch your breath. He gave one final gentle thrust, groaning again when he felt the way you fluttered around him. 

“Already wantin’ more sweetheart?” Joel planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder before finally pulling out of you. He stepped back, pulling his jeans back up into place; he stopped for just a moment, noticing the way his cum dripped out of you and slowly trickled down the inside of your thighs. Resisting the primal urge to take you all over again, he zipped up his jeans and buckled his belt. He then realized you still hadn’t moved and a frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Baby I didn’t hurt you did I—”

“Shut up,” You told him, lazily waving a hand at him. “Don’t ruin it.”

Joel couldn’t help but chuckle as he shook his head. “You really are somethin’ else, you know that?”

“Mhm, but that’s why you love me,” You reminded him, glancing over your shoulder at him with a tiny little smirk.

Joel leaned over, quickly feathering a trail of kisses down your spine before he started walking around the bar and picking up your clothes. He handed them to you along with his jacket and helped you clean yourself up with a clean rag from behind the bar. As you dressed, he disappeared behind the counter once more, returning just moments later with a glass of bourbon in one hand and another clean, damp cloth in the other. “Sit,” he ordered, pointing to a bar stool and you obeyed. You sipped on the hard liquor watching as he started wiping down the table. Discarding the cloth into a garbage bin, he began putting all the chairs up on the tables for you. Looking around, he asked, “What else do you need me to do?”

Setting the glass down, you stood up and shook your head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll come in early tomorrow and finish up my tasks before the bar opens.” You smiled tiredly at him. “Let’s just go home, yeah?”

“Yeah, you need to get some rest—” Joel stopped, his dark eyes widening when he caught a glimpse of the marks that had already begun forming on your neck. “Shit,” he muttered as he hurried over to you. He moved the lapels of his jacket out of the way and touched them delicately. “You’re not gonna be able to hide these, baby.”

“It’s fine,” You grinned at him. “At least now, everyone will know who I belong to.”

[hauntdoesthings]

let's talk about: Husk

Husk is a character that I see a lot of love for, but not a lot of discussion about, at least not the same way we talk about Angel Dust or Alastor, so I'd like to start the conversation since I've noticed certain details about him during a rewatch.

How He Socializes

Husk puts it best himself; "Everybody likes to bitch to the bartender." He knows more about everyone than anyone else, whether they tell him or not. Not only is he the one people turn to vent to at their lowest, he has incredible skill at reading others. It's most likely something he picked up as a gambler, but we can see he still utilizes it to read the other residents, like knowing Angel shouldn't be getting drunk after his long shift and realizing when he's masking right afterwards.

On the other hand, reading people like this doesn't seem to fit with his character in earlier episodes. In the first episodes, Husk makes it very clear he doesn't want to at the hotel and by extension doesn't want to be around the residents. His first line is literally about how he's forced to be there and pretty much all of his screen time is spent being anywhere from unfriendly to outright aggressive towards the rest of the cast. He surely doesn't care enough to read people to get closer to them, so why does he? I believe it's either a subconscious behavior or possibly as a defensive measure. Like in a poker game, he reads his "opponents" to stay ahead of them while keeping his own cards close to his chest.

It's already clear Husk values his boundaries when watching his earlier interactions with Angel, but this combined with other behaviors makes me think he's a very defensive person in general. His body language is constantly closed off, often crossing his arms or physically being separated from others behind the bar. This could just be indicative of his surly personality, but there is a specific behavior makes me think more of it. During my rewatch for this post, I realized Husk has a tendency to hug himself during certain moments of discomfort, like the entire first trust exercise in episode 3(more on that later), and during his first argument with Angel in episode 4, he actually shields himself with his wings when AD insults him before leaving.

Speaking of, episode 4 is really a great example of how Husk view others, especially since this is when his mindset finally shifts.

It's easy to see how dismissive Husk is of AD during this episode, with his constant reiterations of how "fake" he is and even saying that he'll be fine after running out despite knowing that he's had a hard night. Looking a little closer at his mannerisms though, it's clear that he cares more than he wants to let on. He insults the scripts and setting of AD's video rather than his acting and even says that that's specifically what Angel tends to complain about. Even when Valentino sudden calls up AD, Husk's face is more upset than "I told ya so." He realizes that Angel is unhappy with his work, but at the same time, he doesn't think too deeply about it.

Husk assumes that because everyone tends to spills their guts to him while drinking, he knows all he needs to about them, and he's correct to a certain degree; however, despite everything he knows, he doesn't appear to think too deeply beyond what he can easily glean. Charlie wants to help others so she doesn't have to help herself, Vaggie projects her self-hatred and high standards onto those around her, and Angel bullshits his way through everything because he's an actor who doesn't know how to be real. Husk realizes these things easily, but not why the others are this way, and it especially shows during his confrontation with AD, as when Angel finally snaps and reveals his true motives, Husk is visually taken aback.

He's so used to knowing and analyzing people easily that this sudden, truly heartfelt moment from Angel makes him rethink how he's been going about their interactions, how he's been thinking of him this whole time. And this is the moment that makes him decide to open up about his own past. Whether it was seeing that common thread between himself and Angel or possibly a realization that he won't accept help from someone who doesn't offer any input of their own, this is the first time we really see him offer any of his private, personal life, and afterwards, there's an obvious shift in how he treats Angel and everyone else.

"Loser Baby" is the first time we see Husk willingly initiate physical contact onscreen when he's always be visibly tense and uncomfortable at even most mentions of it, though most of that was AD being suggestive so it could be an issue with sexual intimacy than physical. He's comfortable enough in episode 6 to go clubbing with the group and genuinely looks like he's enjoying himself, especially compared to when he went to keep an eye on Angel in episode 4, even helping look out for Niffty when needed and supporting Angel after standing up to Valentino. In the lead-up to the Extermination, there's not a single insinuation that he would've left the hotel, choice or not, and he is with the rest of the cast during all the important moments of the battle, from Sir Pentious' death to the ending number. Even when Alastor is presumed dead, even if he assumed Alastor wasn't really gone, Husk could've easily run off during his absence, but he sticks around to help rebuild, undeniably of his volition, wanting to help his friends and possible family.

That note also brings me to something I've really been wanting to talk about:

Husk and Alastor

Unless we see a shift or get new knowledge about Nifty, Alastor and Husk have a really unique relationship both in theory and as evidenced. Husk is a former Overlord, presumably from before Alastor's rise if he was willing to bet his soul in a game with him. This opens up a lot of questions for me, mainly about what their bet entailed, what led Husk to making it in the first place, and if there's a certain respect between them. Yes, Alastor refers to Husk as his "pet," but Husk also comes to him with his suspicions about Mimsy and it can almost be read as worry. Alastor even responds that "it's nothing [he] can't handle." There has to be a certain level of trust for someone to bring up "hey, that friend you've known for decades only ever comes to you when they need something" and have their concerns taken seriously, even if Alastor's care for others is negligible at best. This whole scene seems to be showing that despite their deal, their past as equals has not been totally forgotten by either of them, leading to a certain understanding of each other that neither, particularly Alastor, have had with anyone else up until now.

The biggest reason I bring their relationship up though is Alastor's deal. With all we've seen, I believe Husk is the one character besides Alastor himself and whoever the other party is that knows about the deal and its possible connection to Alastor's disappearance.

For one, Husk is the one that confirms Alastor is "on a leash" in the first place, and he shows no surprise that Husk knows. Alastor is definitely not the kind of person to let anyone know about something like that no matter how close they are, so this makes me think either Husk had to know or that he was possibly there during the deal.

It also stands out to me the specific phrasing that Husk and Alastor use during the scene.

"You've been gone a long time, and it's not like anybody knows why." "They don't need to know!"

This kind of phrasing makes it feel like Husk is specifically being excluded from that group by both himself and Alastor. If it's true that Alastor's deal is the reason he disappeared, then Husk knowing about both the deal and why Alastor's been gone lines up perfectly. Maybe Husk will be the one to reveal more about this to the audience or even the rest of the cast later on, but it's clear that he does know more than anyone not directly involved and at this moment is the most likely to talk about it, assuming Alastor doesn't immediately tear him a new one for it.

Little Details

Last section, I promise. This is just some little details I noticed while rewatching for this that didn't really fit in anywhere else and questions/speculation about them.

Remember how I mentioned Husk hugging himself earlier? The first time I noticed this was during episode 3 when, after seeing the stage, he declares "I'm not about to put on some show for these fucking chumps." Not sure how much of everyone's backstory is still canon, but it was stated that Husk was a magician during his life, so maybe this is hinting that he has some stage-related baggage?

Also during episode 3, we see Husk sneak down the stairs before Vaggie can toss him off the roof in the warzone, and since he didn't come back up with Angel and Pentious, he presumably left before they made it out. However, at the end of the episode, he's laughing with everyone over the events of it. He comments that SP can "take a beating like a champ" and "you did ok, new kid," so was he just pretending like he was there or did he just hang out on the sidelines and watch? Husk wtf?

Husk specifically says that AD's video is "not a very convincing interrogation scene." Does Husk have experience?

When the bartender pours drinks for the gangster getting Angel a refill, Husk immediately watches the drinks themselves, before the guy even reaches for that little bottle. He's a bartender, he's probably seen too many people have their drinks fucked with to the point it's just an instinct now.

He was ready to square tf up when Valentino hit Angel, but waited until Angel walked away instead of jumping in like in episode 4. He really does trust him to take care of himself and was ready to back up whatever he did.

During "The Show Must Go On," it's minor, but Husk actually tucks his wings around the group hug and it's aasfjkdsajfd

For those who've made it this far, thank you so much for listening to my overthinking and ramblings. Please feel free to ask about anything incoherent, add on to anything, or point out things I missed, I'd just really love to get the discussion started on some of these things!

[fanfics-with-coffee]

To be kind, To be a fool

This has only been proofread and edited by a sleep deprived me sooooo, I also wrote it in a daze from 1AM to 6AM. I'm back in my Baldurs Gate 3 hole and I've been so very inspired from so many other fanfic writers I got back on this blog

You did it, you saved the prisoners from Moonrise Towers and everybody is back, safe and sound at least for tonight. You and Astarion are holding back from the festivities, instead talking about your act of heroism and why you do it. You say you choose to be kind for who else will, he says you're choosing to be a fool for what else is kindness if not foolish.

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort Pairing: Astarion x reader Words: 4400

Its doubtful if Last Light Inn had been quite so lively as when you returned in the raggedy old boat with the prisoners from Moonrise Towers. Once they had been cleared, everyone had ran to their loved ones or simply rejoiced in the warmth of the fire, ever burning away the darkness that threatened to creep inside any crevice it could get it's cold claws into. And of course they soothed their dry throats with the little wine and ale that was left behind when the shadow curse had blanketed the land. The two boys manning the bar were running around relentlessly, trying their best to fill every empty goblet and mug they could spot, leaving no one without a drink. It’d probably only be hours before Jaheira had to call it a night so they wouldn’t run out of the little liquid joy they had left. But until then, the celebrations were loud and proud.

For a moment, things were bright, despite the dark sky. 

“What a ruckus, you could almost think that Lathander himself had been in attendance.” Astarion mused, one hand gracefully swirling a glass of wine while the other rested on his upper arm. He was leaning against the wall beside you in a corner of the inn that hadn’t been filled with people. Not that it was difficult, even with the prisoners free it was barely enough to fill the tables and chairs. You smiled, watching the tieflings try to catch up after the devastating nights apart. 

“If Lathander was here, I think there’d be a lot more dancing on tables and a lot more wine.”

“True… And a lot more fucking.” Astarion replied with that signature cheeky smile he always pulls when he’s said something salacious or teasing. You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, nodding along to his line of thought. He wasn’t wrong. 

“You’re probably right. Well at least we could let these people see another dawn, I think in a sense maybe Lathander really is here.” You pull your eyes from the happy faces and let them reflect in your mug of ale before downing another mouthful of it. The smooth, delicate taste of honey coats your tastebuds and leaves a pleasant warmth in your stomach.

“I didn’t take you for the god honoring type, you know? Besides, these people didn’t need Lathander, they had their own little ray of sunshine coming to their rescue anyways. Our own little goody-two-shoe altruist in shining armor.” He teases you, reminding you that there weren’t any gods in the belly of Moonrise Towers. Yet beneath the lighthearted tone you detected something else, a familiar bitterness and disapproval that he had given you before. That he gave you whenever you did something ‘too nice’, ‘too self sacrificing’ or ‘too cheaply’. You had long ago started ignoring it, instead taking it as a sign you probably did the right thing.

“Mmmh, mayhaps. I mean we were there anyways, and I wouldn’t have wanted to be left there to the Absolutists if I was stuck either.” You give him an answer you know he’ll hate and you made sure to slather some extra kindness in there as well just to really make a point. “And I find enough reward in watching these people.”

Astarion rolls his eyes hard enough you worry they’re gonna get stuck to the back of his head. You watch him, unable to hold in a laugh as he pretends to vomit from how ‘disgustingly sweet’ you are. You don’t say anything for a moment as he lets his eyes roam the room, the soft light of the torches reflecting upon his white locks of hair. You can see the disgust in his eyes as he watches them, and you could only guess as to why he felt so strongly about your acts of kindness. 

“I can’t wait to see the day you realize that none of these people would do the same for you… When someone betrays your kindness and I can stand there and laugh, telling you ‘I told you so’.”

He says it nonchalantly, as if it’s a fact. He let’s his own hatred for the world seep through every syllable yet he hides it behind a face that says he doesn’t care. You expected comments like this to come from him, you expected resistance to helping the helpless. Yet something about his words right now makes your chest tighten in anger, the notion that you were simply too stupid to realize that not everyone was kind. That he was maybe smarter and more experienced than you for seeing the cruelness in the world. You turn sharply to face him, slamming your mug down a little too harshly on a table close by. Astarions eyes meet yours, he never expected you to react like this, you had never before raised your voice at him. The air has grown tense. 

“Astarion, I am kind. I am not a fool, and you should do well to remember that there is a difference.” Your words are sharp yet you’re thankful no one else has seemed to notice you two. “I know that people will hurt me, and betray me. That people will not always do the same as I would’ve done. But if I don’t help, then who will? I have the power to make a change and I’ve chosen to use that power. You don’t have to agree, but you’re not allowed to tell me that I am wrong for deciding to be kind.”

He can see the hurt in your eyes as you correct him. That it’s not a question about your own navïte making you help others, but the fact you put conscious effort into being kind, despite the risk it has. Cold, uncomfortable embarrassment washes over him like ice water. A feeling he despises and so he sets it alight with anger instead, feeling himself burn with it as he finds himself again. His fingers clench around the half empty glass of wine he continues to hold onto. Thoughts swirl around in his head, trying to find the ones that will hurt the most, a painful payback for embarrassing him.

“And pray tell what is the difference? You waste not just your own time helping these idiots, but ours too. We were here to find a cure, yet all we’ve done is listen to sob stories and rescue people who will most likely die on the road to Baldurs Gate anyways. What kind of fool would waste so much energy and time on things that will lead to the exact same result anyways, I believe that’s actually what people call insanity.” He makes himself appear taller as he pushes himself off the wall and stands in front of you, scowling as he meets your gaze. 

How dare you tell him that he’s wrong? After 200 years of cruel torment and nights spent around people who could not give less of a shit about him, you’re telling him there’s people out there that care? And if so then it’s even worse, because that would mean no one simply knew he was in pain. Was Astarions own torment not enough for people to even notice?

No, he knows what he went through. No one cares about others' torment unless there’s something in it for them, even if just so they could feel a little better about themselves and comes at no expense of theirs. It’s always just about ourselves, Astarion just skips the other steps and puts himself first. Why could you just not do the same? Why did you have to go out of your way for anyone else?

“Fine, call me a fool. Insane, även. Say what you want about me, Astarion, but I will always choose to be kind. I’m sorry no one made that choice for you before, I am. B-”

“Do not tell me about kindness, y/n, there is no altruistic kindness like the one you speak of it’s a performance people put on for others.” His words are cold and sharp, they bite into your heart in much the same way his teeth pierce your skin. Painful. “We should all put ourselves first, it’s what everyone wants to do anyways! Skip the damn pleasantries and just be honest about it at the very least. I’m tired of having to look beyond the kindness just to see their true intentions.”

He’s rambling without thinking, remembering all the kind words and touches he’s received just because someone wanted to get in his pants. All the faux acts of kindness he watched Cazador perform so he could get what he wanted, or even just to make sure whatever cruel act he had in mind would hurt even more. All the nights in the beginning where he debated how he could save a victim, just to realize he’d get nothing but pain in return. The kind acts he himself performed in hopes of receiving something kind in return. 

The way he seduced you just to make sure he had safe passage to Baldurs Gate, to a cure. 

You were left speechless, caught off-guard by the outburst of emotions. You knew he was selfish but this was rooted deeper and maybe you should’ve realized when he had finally told you about Cazador and his ‘siblings’. You clenched your hands, trying to find something to refute his points. To prove him wrong. Yet you have nothing of worth to sooth his pain. He sees your hesitations and assumes he’s finally gotten through to you, he’s won. His red eyes leave yours to once again look at the others smiling faces, not wanting you to see the disappointment grow in him as he realizes he was right.

“So you’ve never been kind just to be kind?”

“No. Never.”

He rakes a hand through his hair, letting the motion tilt his head back as he finally raises his glass of wine, downing the rest of it. The sudden action makes the glass flow over the corners of his mouth and the deep red liquid coats his chin and drips down on his chest, staining the white fabric of his shirt. It bleeds into the criss-cross stitching and travels further down before he has time to react. 

You gasp and grab an old handkerchief stuffed in your pocket, quickly moving to try and save his favorite shirt. It's instinctual, thoughtless. Even when you’re mad at him and even though he’s furious at you, you try to help him. As soon as the cloth touches him, shame spreads like a disease through him, regret taking root in his chest somewhere where his beating heart should’ve been. 

He hates it.

“Don’t touch me.” He bites back, snatching the handkerchief from your hand to do the job himself. You instantly step back, putting your hands up to make sure you give him space.

“Tsk, I’m going to bed. Good night, y/n.” He’s aggressively dabbing at the stain as he starts walking away, trying to soak up as much as possible but it’s clear it's a useless endeavor, it will forever remain stained.

“Astarion!” You call out to him before he gets too far and he stops momentarily, turning to finally look at you. 

He’s met with pity reflecting off of your eyes in the lowly lit room. 

He hates it.

You say something else but suddenly the sounds of the celebrations drown out whatever it was. He doesn’t even try to listen and simply turns around to find the room that he had been given as a thank you from Jaheira. He didn’t need your pity, he didn’t tell you about his past because he wanted your pity, anyone would feel pity for him if he told them what had happened to him. He wanted you to… care. Foolishly, he wanted you to care about him, about what had happened to him. He wanted you to listen to his issues and maybe, just maybe, you’d want to help him like you helped everyone else around you. And maybe you’d do something without asking for anything in return. 

Yet tonight, he reminded himself that no such thing as true kindness existed. And to expect you to care about him despite who he was at his core was foolish itself. Your kindness came at a cost he hadn’t even thought about; You expected him to change in return for your kindness. He was mean, he was selfish and he wouldn’t let you change him for anything.

He turns to close the door to the room he was staying in, the feeling of his shirt clinging to his chest uncomfortable and wet. Astarions eyes find you in the same corner he left you, yet your eyes didn’t meet. Gale and Karlach had come up to you, pulling your attention to them. You had quickly started smiling and laughing again, one hand on Karlachs shoulder in a calming manner. 

Why had he even let himself hope that you would follow after him?

He closed the door.

The hours dragged on, the darkness in the Shadowlands making day and night nearly indistinguishable. The only thing that made time feel real was the ever waning torches, slowly burning out. And while you felt like it must’ve been a fortnight of drinking, laughing and talking, it can’t actually have been more than three hours based on how many torches had already burned out and been replaced. You had been convinced to join Karlach by the grill, Wyll telling stories of his time as the Blade of Frontiers in the soft glow. You listened and laughed, at points discussing the actual validity of these stories. But in the back of your mind, you couldn’t let the thought of Astarion go. He hadn’t left the room he was staying in, all alone in there, perhaps still trying to clean the shirt he always seemed to wear. 

As people finally sated themselves and found their companions, the celebrations died down to  a quiet mumble amongst those unable to sleep. The children had long ago been told to head to bed, only occasionally peeking their heads out from the dorm or coming out to ask for a late night snack. Jaheira herself had taken over the bartending but was now stuck pleasantly talking with some fists that had sat down after their patrol shift. Even most of your companions had headed to bed, either in the dorm or at camp depending on their preference, Astarion had specifically called dibs on the single private room. 

“Well, I think it’s best I call it a night as well!” Karlach stood up and stretched her muscular arms over her head. “You should do the same, soldier, can’t have our tactician getting sloppy!” She smiled at you, expectantly putting her hands on her hips as she waited for you to stand up and walk with her.

“Oh, I think I’m going to stay up just a little more. I’m sorta enjoying the quiet murmur in here, and I haven’t really had the time to speak with Jaheira since we came back.” You lied, trying to give her a convincing smile. But you couldn’t hold her eyes with yours, instead turning your head to watch the door to Astarions room, trying to make it look casual. 

“Riiight… You know, I don’t know what’s going on between you and fangs but I wouldn’t take anything he says to heart. He’s sorta dumber than he wants us to think, so whatever he told you… Eh well, I dunno, I’m not the smartest myself.” She laughs at herself, the alcohol having had an effect on her after quite a few bottles. “But I am the strongest! So if he needs  a good assbeating then I’m here for ya. I know he can say some pretty rude stuff at times even if he doesn’t mean it. What is it people say? Hurt people, hurt people?”

“You’re right Karlach...” You smile at her, she may say that she’s not smart but she knows people better than most. “But it’s fine between me and Astarion, we just had a disagreement but it’s nothing to worry about, I don’t think. Though I know an assbeating wouldn’t help, but I appreciate the offer.”

“Well if you say so, soldier! I’ll see you in the morning then I guess.” She gives you a hard pat on your back before leaving, yawning loudly as she walks towards the dorm room, softly ‘shoo’-ing another tiefling child back into the room.

You spend some time just watching the embers of the firepit burn, feeling the heat hitting your face in waves and drying out your lips. You drink the last of the wine in your cup and lick your lips, standing from the stool to leave the empty cup at the bar. Your eyes find the wooden door again and you spend a long moment debating if it’s a good idea. Facing Astarion right now would be awkward and draining, it would even risk you two blowing up at each other again. Yet you know he was hurt, that much was obvious.

The knock is soft and you’re uncertain if he could even hear it over the sound of the fireplace in the room. You consider that maybe he had gone to bed in the end, it had been hours since you saw him after all. 

“Astarion? Can I come in?” You call out softly, afraid to wake him if he was in trance but wanting to give it at least one more shot before you give up. It takes a moment but suddenly the door opens ever so slightly, just enough to let you know it was open but not enough to see him in the doorway. You take that as a ‘yes’ and carefully push it open further. You hadn’t even heard his footsteps come to the door nor leave, yet when you slip through the crack of the door he’s sitting on the bed. The room is dark, long shadows being cast from the dying fire. The moon lights up his pale skin and even paler hair, reflecting off of him as a glow. His legs are crossed and he’s leaned back on his hands, his chest exposed. He looks as if he’s made of marble, his chest doesn’t even move with breaths as you watch him, a quirk of his vampirism you’ve realized. You make sure to close the door behind you, never turning away. 

Neither of you say anything. There’s a book open  next to him on the bed, it’s the sequel of some book he had picked up early on in your adventure. You had gotten the sequel for him after he expressed his enjoyment for the first one, it had cost you a gold but it was worth it. You stare at it, unwilling to meet his gaze directly. Yet his is firmly placed on you, indifferent and icy.

“Well? Were you just here to get your handkerchief back or did you want something?” He spoke first, raising an eyebrow.

“...Is it as good as the first book?” You ask, finally looking him in the eyes. He furrows his brows before he looks at the book next to him, realizing what you meant.

“It’s decent. I liked the twist in the first book so it has a lot to live up to, but it’s an enjoyable read. But I’m sure you’re not here for some midnight book club so out with it. What do you want?” He’s clearly pushing you away, but the fact that he opened the door when he heard it was you must mean he’s willing to listen.

“I wanted to come see how you were doing. Did you manage to get the stain out of your shirt?”

“I’m fine, thank you. And no, I did not, I will have to try to find someone who knows prestidigitation to get it out, I believe. Now if you excuse me, I’d quite like to get back to my bo-” He’s about to pick his book back up, clearly done with the conversation if you weren’t going to get to any point.

“I also wanted to apologize.” 

He raises an eyebrow and looks at you, giving you his full attention and newfound interest in the conversation.

“I snapped at you, and while I don’t think I was in the wrong for doing that-” He rolls his eyes, making it clear he disagrees with you but he lets you keep talking. “I shouldn’t have made it sound like being kind was an effortless choice and that you always can and should choose. It’s not easy every single time. So I’m sorry.” You try to gauge his reaction, see if he gives you any sort of response. He doesn’t at first, his face difficult to make out in the drastic lighting. The distance between you may only be a couple meters but right now you feel like there's kingdoms between you.

“...You say that yet you make it seem so damn easy. You never question why someone needs help, if it’s their own fault for getting themselves in that situation. You never assume people have any other intentions than what they tell you up front. You’re kind as effortlessly as some breathe.” He spits out the words as if they’re venom, once again speaking as if he believes you’re a fool. “Even to me, you’re kind. You ask me about my wounds, if I like the books I read, if I’m comfortable, where I learned to sew… I thought you were just trying to get in my bed at first, something I’m used to. I’ve given my body to countless ‘kind souls’, but now I’ve realized you just want me to be another victim you saved. Another person you’ve fixed. So you can play hero and get all the love and praise that entails. ‘Hero of Faerûn saves poor vampire spawn! Look at this poor sucker!’” He uses his hands to show off the fake headlines.

“Pun intended.” There's a sarcastic smile on his face as he stands up, grabbing your bloodied and wine stained handkerchief from the bed table before approaching you.

“That’s not why I did those things, Astarion, please. I care about you, just liste-”

“Well jokes on you, your kindness has been wasted on me. I’ve used you for my own gain, you know?” He throws your handkerchief against your chest, forcing you to clutch it so as to not let it fall. “I played with you just as easily as any other poor fool I’d find in Baldurs Gate’s whorehouses. You were ridiculously easy, just a few kind words and charming smiles and you were wrapped around my finger! Not that I blame you, have you seen me? I’m hard to resist. But it’s time to drop the pleasantries, the kindness, you’ve just been a tool for me to find a way to survive and I’ve just been another notch in your belt. But I am not another helpless pawn for you to feel good about ‘fixing’. I am pessimistic, I am selfish, I am merciless and I am cruel, and you won’t ever be able to change that.” He finally finishes his monologue, still forgetting to mimic the act of breathing as he stands before you in eerie silence. There’s a sense of vulnerability within his eyes despite his posture. Like a cornered animal lashing out in a desperate attempt to be left alone, to not be hurt.

You’re standing close to him now, mere decimeters away from each other's bodies. Yours heated and warm and his forever cold to the touch. You move slowly when you finally decide what you want to say, what you need him to realize. His eyes notice your hand raising and he tenses up even further, preparing him for what? He’s not sure. Then your hand reaches his face, softly cupping his cheek with your palm. Your heat exchanges with his, your hand slowly warming his skin while yours cools to the touch. He’s in shock, unable to say or do anything, just watching your face to try and read what your intentions are.

“I’ve tried to tell you, even before you went in here. I will always choose to be kind to you, Astarion, just as you are.”

He finally sucks in air, his lips parting to make sure his lungs fill fully and it’s as if it's his first breath since he died in that alley. That’s what you had tried to tell him before he left. You smile, moving your hand to brush a strand of his hair out of his face, observing his features. The dark, angry and nearly sadistic expression he carried before when he was trying to hurt you has washed away, leaving only the face of a lost young man standing before you. Eyes wide and mouth agape as you fully brushed off all the cruel things he said to you. Could he do nothing to scare you away, force you to back off? Keep you locked out of his heart?

He closes his mouth finally, eyes cast down to the floor as shame once again flowers in his chest, the thorns digging into every nerve.

“Even when I make it a difficult choice?” He asks quietly, shyly.

“Yes, even when it’s a difficult choice. But I don’t find it difficult to care for you Astarion. If you let me… I wouldn’t even find it difficult to love you.” You laugh a little, the question was silly to you after all. 

“You really are a fool.” A smile forms on his lips, the smile lines you’ve always adored finally showing themselves and his eyes as softening. He could never understand you, you’d never make sense to him. No matter how many times he thinks he has you pegged, you always go over and beyond his expectations. And once he thinks you’ve reached your limit on kindness, he finds a little more, even for a monster like him. His hands, which had consistently remained at his sides until now, moved up to find your hips. Astarion pulled you in closer to him, soaking in your heat and digging his head into the crook of your neck. You can’t help but laugh again, loud and happy, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him even closer to you.

“I will always be kind, even if it does make me a fool.”

[teddybeartoji]

me and toji me and toji me and tojiiiiiiii...

we started out as neighbors but it took us like three months to even propely meet lmao,, it takes me a while to get used to new places so when i first moved in i just stayed at home like a lot. a lot a lot. i literally only left to go to the grocery store and then to the park down the street and that's it. and toji is a big homebody too, so he didn't go out all that much either, just work and then the bar with a friend every once in a while. we just didn't happen to move at the same time, despite living right next to each other.

after about a month, i found myself a third place and slowly but surely grew more and more comfortable there – the cinema (nobody is surprised). i always liked to go during the day, as early as i could, just to make sure that there wouldn't be too many people. always in the last row, always in the middle seat. this is the mickey way. anyway, after creating a bit of a routine for myself, i felt more free to observe my surrounding some more too. felt more comfortable to start people watching. and that's when i saw him. mostly dressed in darker clothes, hoodies and big jackets. sometimes with a cap on, sometimes without it. it's not like he was always always there at the same time as me but when he was, he always sat in the last row but instead of fighting for the middle seat, he always sat at the very end of the row. obviously i thought he looked very handsome – we had made eye-contact a few times while buying popcorn by accident and let me tell you, that was enough to have my heart racing ok i am very weak. but i'm not bold enough to strike up a conversation like that so stolen glances and shared movie experiences were all we had. we btw have a very similar taste in films so we did end up seeing each other a lot there lmao

aaaanyway i just had a silly little cinema crush but never did anything abt it bc i'm a pussy ok😔😔 (he's literally the same). okay but so, one day i was coming home from whereever, just stepped into the elevator when a hand stopped the doors and HE appeared. i was very confused. he.. looked confused too lmao,, but now........ loookkkk.... no matter how handsome he is..... he's still a stranger, and a man too at that. a man who seems to be where i am multiple times a week and is now suddenly where i live. yes, i freaked the fuck out okay. don't judge me. he didn't press a floor button either yk so i really did start to spiral over the fact that maybe he's stalking me or smth..... and he saw that. he saw me tense up and he isn't stupid – he knows he's a tough big guy and it did seem like he could've been stalking me. so he immediately backed away a bit, trying to make himself smaller bc he obviously didn't want to make me any more uncomfortable. and then he just blurted out with his raspy voice that he lives here. it definitely cracked the tension a bit. he cleared his throat and slowly pointed at the floor buttons, saying that he lives on the same floor (btw i need everybody to know that he has a bit of an accent in my head it's very very important to me he speaks english very well but his accent still shines through and i love it very very much<33333). he even showed me his keys lmao and i did feel way more safe after that buuut we still didn't really introduce each other or anything. i guess the air still felt just a bit weird.. the doors opened and we both walked to out apartments in silence (it wasn't actually awkward or anything though it was just . silence) and then looked at each other with silly faces when we realized we literally live Right next to each other lmao that was funny. i just said that i moved in like two months ago and that was it. we went our seperate ways.

for a day.

bc you have no idea.. how awful i felt abt that elevator thing. oooooooh my god. IT'S NOT HIS FAULT HE'S SO BIG SO IT'S SO MEAN FOR ME TO ASSUME THAT HE'S SOME AXE MURDERED YK well it isn't but i still felt really really bad esp since he tried to immediately make me feel more comfortable and tried to reassure me that he was not, in fact, stalking me lmao but yeah idk it just weighed really heavily on me i couldn't help but keep thinking abt it soooo i ended up baking a batch of brownies the very next day. and i went to his door (still in my hello kitty pyjama pants mind you)(i forgot to change them) aaand then started rambling and STUTTERING BTWW while apologizing and he just stood there like ???? like he didn't even understand why i was apologizing in the first place lmao he felt it was a very understandable for me to have that fear and to think the way i was thinking (he actually felt a bit bad abt the whole thing inside too he just didn't really know how to express it). aaaanyway so he was just there staring at me with like a veeery faint smile bc at a point it got a bit ridiculous bc i really did start just rambling abt the whole thing lmao it was uhhh just a bit embarrassing (the fact that he's hot didn't help either thank you very much). he thought it was cute how i was there trying to apologize for smth that he should've been apologizing for himself lmao he tried to say no to the brownies at first and i shoved them at him so hard they all almost fell.. aaand i think that's exactly where he decided that hm. mickey . yes weird little creature i am intrigued i want to know more yk?

btw we still didn't exchange numbers or anything at that point, that happened later after i came knocking at his door at twelve am bc there was a big spider in my room but i'll talk abt that some other time:33333333 thank you for reading abt the miji lore i love you . and i love him. sooooso much he means the world to me<3333333333333333

[eternalsams]

Love is All ⇴ M.Garcia

pairing: Mickey Garcia x fem!reader

summary: during your first night out after the Uranium mission, you all decide to play a game to know each other a bit better and some things are hard to believe.

content/warnings: fluff, alcohol consumption

word count: 1.7k

a/n: english isn't my first language, please take that into consideration. There's references to one of my favorite movies, can you catch them?

masterlist

The mission was a success and when everybody was cleared off the medical check, you all decided to enjoy a night out at the Hard Deck and let your captain pay a round of drinks. Except for the first night when you all met and the day at the beach for dogfight football, you didn’t really have the time to chat and really know each other. It was Hangman’s idea, of course, but none of you complained about free drinks and a fun night out. As Coyote's WSO, you already knew Javy and Jake pretty good and heard about Rooster and Phoenix from when Hangman would tell you his Top Gun stories. But you were glad you could finally put faces to the names. You were one of the youngest among Fanboy and Phoenix. To your biggest surprise, Bob wasn't as young as he seemed to be but he still kept a young soul, getting along with the youngest but also the oldest of the team.

When you passed the Hard Deck's doors, penny welcomed you all with a bright smile and a couple of applause. She was followed in her applause by a few patrons who recognized you and heard about your exploits. None of you really paid them any attention and Rooster and Phoenix stayed at the bar to take all the orders while the rest of you gathered around a pool table for a game or two. You mostly stayed with Hangman and Coyote, sometimes chuckling at something Fanboy said, making them understand where your callsign came from. Lieutenant Y/N 'Giggles' Y/L/N. You got it in flight school when you inadvertently giggled during class at an awkward silence. It stuck.

The night went on, all of you learning to know each other. Some funny anecdotes shared and embarrassingly told later, Hangman proposed -as the very mature man he was- to play truth or dare. You all drank a little bit and the alcohol in your systems made you all agree with his high-schooler idea. You grabbed the bottles of beer that were still not emptied and followed Hangman on the beach. You all sat legs crossed onto the sand and that's when you noticed that Coyote kept an empty bottle to use as a pointer. He spined the bottle and the bottleneck pointed at Bob. Hangman's face lightened up and he looked up at the blue-eyed WSO with a devilish smirk. "Truth or Dare, Baby On Board?" He asked. You could see Bob gulp silently and think about what he was about to choose. He could almost feel the fresh Californian air hitting his bare torso if he ever said Dare to Hangman. "Truth."

Hangman's smile faded only a bit, kind of disappointed that Bob didn't pick Dare, but he quickly found something to ask the blonde. "What's the most reckless thing you've ever done? On or out of base." The blonde pilot licked his lips wickedly and leaned back to rest his weight on his hands. Bob's face turned red and he looked away, his eyes catching the ocean waves a bit further on the beach. "I... I uhm got a girl on base one night." And with just that, howls and whistles were heard from all the boys. Phoenix and you simply laughed, surprised by Bob's confession. "Who was that girl?" Payback asked. "Hey! He picked Truth not truths." Phoenix quickly came to the rescue of her WSO. Payback raised his hands in surrender and Bob leaned over to spin the bottle.

You kept playing during the biggest part of the evening, some of your deepest and dirtiest secrets being revealed to your new friends. Some of you -Rooster and Coyote- were now wet from head to toes from going into the cold water of the ocean as a dare. Others -Phoenix, Hangman and Payback- were wasted with the amount of alcohol they consumed. Unfortunately you had to lick salt from Coyote's neck at one point, earning whistles from Hangman who snapped a picture on his phone for good measure he'd never forget this. Sadly for Bob, he now had to feel the fresh air of California when Rooster dared him to take off his shirt, he now had wrapped his arms around his bare chest, feeling self-conscious even when you and others complimented him to make him feel better about himself. Truth be told, he looked nothing like Rooster with his broad shoulders or like Hangman with his hugely developed pecs. But you wouldn't be lying if you said you didn't stare a bit too long when he took his shirt off to properly fold it next to him on the sand.

Fanboy was the only one left avoiding anything too embarrassing, he told you about his first time, he whispered dirty things in Phoenix's ears who opened her eyes wide open when he murmured those dirty words. He even drank a whole beer in one go. But nothing too embarrassing like kissing one of you or stripping out of his clothes. He finished his last dare and spined the bottle that ended up pointing at you. He kindly smiled up at you and licked his lips. "Truth or Dare, Y/N?" You chuckled and closed your eyes, wanting this game to finally end. "Truth." You could hear Hangman and Coyote sigh because they basically already knew everything about you. "Do you believe in love?" Mickey -as you learned he was called- asked you. You didn't really see the others' faces when he asked that because you kept looking at him but you could hear some laughs and some whispers at how 'lame' his question was. "I don't." You simply say and he frowned, not expecting this answer, he opened his mouth, ready to ask something else when Rooster's voice interrupted him. "Alright, I don't know what you wanted to know with this Fanboy but I think it shows that it's time we stop playing this immature game." He ended his sentence with a pointed look towards Hangman who was grinning, stopping himself from laughing out loud.

You and Fanboy were the only ones who stayed silent when you all helped cleaning up. You weren't really upset by Mickey's question or anything, just tired. But Fanboy was deep in his thoughts, how could you not believe in love? It was simply impossible for him to imagine not believing in love. You all joined the bar and noticed all customers were gone and that Penny was cleaning everything. You all helped her even if she insisted you didn't have to. Payback was the first one to leave, and then Phoenix. And at the end, only you and Fanboy were still helping Penny moping the floor and cleaning the counters while she was taking inventory. The silence was only disrupted by the sound of the waves and the crickets outside. That until Fanboy stopped moping and turned to you. "How can you not believe in love?"

You chuckled and kept cleaning the counter. "I just don't. Is it that hard to believe?" You looked up at him and smiled, shrugging to show him it didn't bother you that much. "It is! I mean... What do you mean by Love? You've never been in love before?" He rested his chin on the back of his hands that were themselves resting on top of the mop handle. "I have been in love. I'm still human, Fanboy. I just don't believe in love with a capital L. I don't think we're destined to find some kind of soulmates that will forever be by our side. I think that's bullshit." Your answer left Fanboy speechless and when you were done with the counter, you rinsed the sponge you were using and dried your hands before grabbing your stuff. "Here's a question for you, Mickey. Why do you believe in love?" You chuckled as you walked by him, intending on leaving him finish moping alone. But his voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Above all things, I believe in love." He said and you turned to him, feeling he would say more. "A life without love isn't worth to be lived. And I'm not talking about parental love because that's a whole different thing but romantic love, love with a capital L, is real. Believe me." He rested the mop against a table and got closer to you. "My mom always tells me that when you find your true love, you feel it. Not in your heart like everyone might think, but in your stomach. Being away from them makes you sick, thinking of a life without them makes you sick. That's when you know you found your true love." He stopped getting closer when only a couple of feet separated you. "Have you ever felt sick?" You asked curiously. "I thought so, once. But I had only eaten something bad." He smiled, showing his pearly whites. You giggled, looking away from him not to fall for his pretty smile. Because he did have a very pretty smile. "Love is a many-splendored thing, you know? It's not always about being a sap, or cheesy. Nor as passionate as Hangman tries to make it appear." He chuckled as he tried to catch your eyes. "It can hurt, I agree. But it makes us feel alive. Love lifts us up where we belong." One of his hands tentatively grabbed yours and made you look back at him. "And where do I belong?" You took a step closer to him, linking your fingers to his. "Up there in the sky, where the eagles fly." You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from giggling once more. "I'm sorry, I didn't even realize it rhymes." He chuckled as he closed his eyes, feeling a bit embarrassed by how cheesy he sounded. "That was pretty smooth, I have to admit." You said and his eyes opened wide, staring at you in disbelief. You giggled once more and let go of his hand to grab his face and press your lips on his cheek. "I may not yet believe in love with a capital L, but I do believe in a dinner at yours. Let's say Friday, at 7?" You cocked your head to the side and watched him coming back to his senses. "That was really smooth too." He softly smiled and nodded, already wondering what he was gonna cook for you on Friday night.

[thosewildcharms]

Ugh the comparisons are so annoying. You’ll still find people insisting Shane was just ahead of Rick in terms of adapting to a brutal world. When it’s clear the ZA broke Shane, he never really measured his choices and didn’t wanted to help anyone at all. He was a coward and acted first as a coping mechanism not because he was an efficient leader.

say that anon! it's honestly not only annoying but a little troubling to me when people compare rick to shane or worse, n*gan because what do you mean shane was right and rick needed to be more like him? what do you mean if we watched the show from negan's pov we'd be on his side and see rick as the villain? no the fuck he wasn't and no the fuck i would not!

the show establishes very early that yes, violence is necessary. and since that's the case, to differentiate between the rick/the people we're supposed to love and the actual villains we have to look at their motivation. rick has been incredibly violent, but his motivation is always to protect, not only his immediately family, but anyone who becomes part of his community. the group flocked to rick instead of shane from the very beginning because he cared about everybody's welfare, unlike shane whose motivations were ultimately selfish. i always think about his last scene with rick, how shane says he's better for lori and carl, like he wants to possess what is rick's - hence why he sexually assaults lori in the CDC. he didn't love her, he felt he was owed her. the way shane so quickly and easily abandoned all sense of right and wrong and adjusted to brutality was a red flag, not something to emulate. to reiterate the parallel they drew between shane and beale in the towl finale, shane was willing to sacrifice other people (his own people!) for his own survival. we should see this as a bad thing. by contrast we know, empirically, that rick would sooner sacrifice himself than anyone he considered himself responsible for (see: the bridge). the argument that rick needed to learn to be more like shane just doesn't track for me: we saw in nebraska when he killed those two men in the bar without blinking that he was perfectly capable of doing what needed to be done. we saw it when he was the one to step up and kill sophia when she came out of the barn while shane just looked at his feet. if anything, killing shane taught rick just how far rick was willing to go. as he said in his dream sequence in 9x05, it had to be him. he had to stay alive to keep protecting the people he loved no matter what, even if it meant killing his best friend. that's his motivation.

as for n*egan. well. i can't believe in the year 2024 people are still not understanding that rick fucking grimes would never have subordinates, let alone force them to refer to themselves by using his own name. he'd never kill a child to prove a point and force submission, and would never, ever force women to become his wives and have sex with him whenever he wants via coercion because rick grimes would never sexually assault someone. do you honestly think daryl, glenn, maggie, carol, hershel, anyone in team family would have stayed with rick if he was capable of any of that? do you think michonne would have let him within fifty feet of her, let alone put an entire baby in her if that was the type of person he was? the same michonne who arguably has the best instincts of anyone on the show? who sniffed out the governer's bullshit immediately? no. when shown an alternate reality where she became a savior instead of part of team family, michonne called it hell. she only feels safe when she's with rick.

n*gan's whole thing reeks of egotism and a need for power - seeing his people as cogs in a machine meant to be put to work and terrorized and abused only to be told it's all for their own benefit. the saviors are a cult, whereas rick genuinely sees and treats his people as his family. rick's people not only love him, they're not afraid of him. they know that when he does go too far they are safe to tell him so, and that he will listen (even if it takes him a minute). rick admits he deserved it when michonne knocked him out at alexandria, and being a farmer at the prison was basically the apocalyptic equivalent of wearing the grippy socks and he did it without complaint. he lets himself be guided. as hershel said, he gets to come back, and he always does, because for rick ego and power have nothing to do with why he does the things he does. he doesn't enjoy it - it traumatizes him and he has to recover from it. this is not a person on a power trip who needs to be eliminated, but a person who is respected and as a result cared for because he does what needs to be done - things other people might not be capable of doing - but for the right reasons.

all of this is why the towl finale had to happen that way btw. not just because it was set up from the very first episode from a writing/narrative standpoint (and i'll let the much more qualified @starfruit-green speak on the socio-political aspects) but because there's no way rick and michonne grimes would ever hear the words coming out of beale's mouth and not immediately lunge. that finale painstakingly spelled out, slowly while using small words so people could understand, that rick and michonne's sword, their violence, is the necessary kind that protects, that eliminates the real threat. beale, shane, n*gan? they are the threat.

anyway. thank you to @starfruit-green and @redding for the encouragement <3

[noacfapologyst]

night love confessions — matty healy

summary: after a night party, matty has the idea (or the need) to confess his love to you.

warnings: some kind of mention about get drunk, alcohol, drugs and substances (but nothing very explicit) nocturnal melancholy, sad atmosphere and some mentions of touches.

wordcounter: 3,4k

a/n: hey everybody! this is my first au and even i'm scary i really hope you enjoy and like the story, maybe then could put this into a general universe, but idk, it depends i think if it works and if the people like it. anyway, thanks for giving the chance to read it. last thing, english is not my first language so if something it's bad i apologize for that too.

hope you enjoy it 🖤

The bottles that are opened, the containers that fall to the ground, the footsteps of shoes, the music that resonates through the speakers and deafens your ears.

The group of guys you're looking at, the smile one of them gives you at the end of the track. The adrenaline when listening to the band's new song composed by your friends, the lights that make you lose, you feel everything in slow motion.

You drum your fingers on the red disposable cup, before pouring the harsh liquid down your throat and feeling the traces of the rest on your tongue. There is a silence on you, but then you return to the ring with a small scream of happiness, which perhaps multiplies the state you are by a third.

You don't know how many glasses you've had, enough so that your sobriety is hanging by a thread and the hangover of the morning with your head exploding is too evident, but you know that this time nothing else has been mixed. Last time the story didn't end too well, jumping over security fences outside an abandoned club to end up with a sprained right foot and several bruises is not something you want to repeat two weeks later.

— Does anyone know where the hell Matty has gone? — George exasperates, raising his voice over the speakers. Everyone looks at each other confused, without having a clear answer. — God, this guy is going to give me a bad headache one day. —Although he is drunk and has red eyes, he is at his most sane. — You are surprised and turn your expression into an "o".

— He was here a few moments ago, I swear. — Ross responds a while later, moving up to follow him into the crowd.

You sigh a little tired, lately it has become the same routine and with regret inside you decide that you should abandon the staring contest with the black-haired man who is a few meters in front of you.

— I'll bring him back in a moment, let me take care of this. — You pronounce with difficulty, slurring the words and pouting.

— Well, if you can't find us we're probably outside. — Brown hair appears behind George, and even though you know you know the girl, you don't remember her name. You just know that from time to time she and your friend go to some bars .

— She's right. I need to sleep right now. —Ross exclaims, running the fold of her fingers over the sockets of his eyes. — Find him and then we'll leave.

You know Matty well enough to know that when he separates from the group, there are three places he can be doing: 1) In the outside or inside courtyard smoking some kind of cigarette, it's always a different edition so you don't know what you'll find. 2) In the nearest bathroom, with a card in hand and light white tints under the nose and nails. 3) Flirt with the first person you meet at the bar, spending the little money on drinks that will later be deposited on his bed.

— And if you don't find it, what? —Adam asks, in a tone of total concern.

— I will do it, I promise.

— Just... let us know when you get home, girl. —George closes the conversation and everyone else nods at his request, shakes their heads in response and greets them with a "yes, goodbye" in the air.

You hate a little, a lot, the rock superstar life that your entire band has led, it has been like this for years, but especially since they managed to make their first album become famous so quickly, and have devastated the sales stands and the lists have them in their heads. In fact, while you're debating where to start looking for it, Girls starts playing through the speakers. Great, the world makes fun of you with good satire.

It doesn't matter that you don't have clarity to think, your body moves for you and makes its way through quite a few people, until you touch a wall that has two exits: the bathroom and the courtyard. You breathe and try to lower your level to one less, until your instinct kicks in and you know you'll find Matty smoking.

Then you go out to the inner courtyard with the frost freezing your back. Adam was right, you needed your jacket that you left at his house a few hours earlier. The wind makes your eyes turn to glass in a sense, but you don't plan on giving up when you know you're committed to finding and bringing it home in the best condition possible.

You find it almost at the end of the place, away from the main entrances, which catches your attention. He has his leather jacket over his knees, which leaves his arms unprotected despite how thin they are. He's frowning, and when you get closer you see that he's exhaling and inhaling with a thoughtful expression, there's something troubling him even though you can't figure it out.

You reach his side of him and look for a small place to sit, he still has n't realized that someone else is with him, he's still absorbed.

— No girl today? What a loser. — You wake him up and make him jump in his place. — The boys are gone.

— Shit, girl. You really scared me.— He puts his hand on his chest, exactly on his heart. He gives you a half-shot of his eyes, they're freshly red, and you grimace silently. — She's gone too.

— Who? — You cross your legs, and your fishnet stockings catch on a tile out of place. — Shit, they were new. — You moan and realize that you are freezing.

— Luckily for you, buying another one is not difficult. —Now you are the one who frowns while exhaling a considerable amount of smoke.

— Are you okay, Matty? — You don't know why you use his name, but sometimes it helps to bring him back to reality. You look at him when he shakes his head and laughs sarcastically, his curls are out of control and half of them are hanging over his forehead, but he has not bothered to fix them, his white t-shirt he has small red wine stains on it. You can't help but worry about him even if you don't know what you're really into, he's one of the people you love the most and seeing him so subdued burns you more than the glass you drank ten minutes ago. He starts to close his eyes and breathe easier, or so you think. — Hey, I'll take you home, come on.

— Honey, look at me. It's a fucking party and I'm smoking alone. — Speak in the deepest voice, seriously about the subject. Well, that hurts. — Come here. — He hits the jacket that falls on her knees so that you can rest your head there.

He knows that you will not refuse, perhaps because the jacket will keep you warm, because you are tired or because you are very busy and worried. About him you will do everything he asks. Then he drops his head there and slowly rests his legs on the pavement.

Matty's head is about to explode, and not necessarily because of the amount of cocaine he has consumed, although a significant part of it is a factor. He's grateful to have his head against the wall, although he doesn't remember how he got to that position. because he knows that otherwise he would do anything that would ruin the whole environment, no matter how small and silly it was. Lately he's screwed up more things than he's done right, but maybe this is what he longs for most in his life, that when all this terror and this endless nightmare is over (he's more convinced that it won't) you'll still be there, close to him, to support his head or lean on him.

Silence becomes your best friend over and over again. All he wants to do now is cross his hands below your waist and hold you for as long as he is allowed. But he doesn't, his hands are dirty and he couldn't afford to dirty his girl like that, he feels in the depths of his being that if he touched you even a millimeter he would ruin you to the core.

Basically the same feeling he had about himself several weeks ago, he couldn't take the responsibility of taking away all of your shine and everything that characterizes you as his favorite person. He is drugged and drunk, perhaps more than ever, but in this same hazy state he has discovered that perhaps the reason why he continues doing things without stopping is because it is a barrier to his feelings, it inhibits him from being able to think rationally and from being able to feel, It makes him believe that everything is possible, except being able to have you.

You remain motionless on his lap when you begin to close your eyes and he takes the opportunity to look at you, giving himself every detail, capturing the scene forever in his memory: look at how your locks fall on your forehead, how your chest rises and falls every time you you breathe, and the subtle smile on your lips that is the product of drunkenness that also causes a satirical laugh and then dies in its own tranquility. He also notices when you open your eyes, noticing his determined look and you raise an eyebrow in question.

— I need to die, now. Can we go now? — You whisper, also struggling to hold the moment for as many minutes as possible.

— One more and we'll leave, love. — The nickname causes a cerebral shock throughout your cortex, but you hide it with the freezing air that runs through there and you pass him the lighter that has fallen on the floor.— I'll wake you up... maybe in seven minutes? I can't count. — The two laugh and for a second they hold each other's gaze, shining and reflecting on each other.

— Promise? — You ask, and you raise your little finger.

— Promise. — He intertwines them and it's convincing enough for you that you soon go back to sleep, leaving your hand outstretched. Matty has no intention of breaking that contact, so he takes it upon himself to enjoy the seven minutes like this, usually blowing out some hair that obstructs her view of him.

When he is halfway through the fateful cigarette, he lets out the longest snort of the day. He feels the same as he did in Robbers' video. No, it's nonsense. That song was never written for you, but maybe he's relating it to others.

Oh, but it's automatic, the scene where he's on her lap in timeout, the thought that he could never let you go even if they were apart, everything he's begged for you to stay and all the times you haven't. was able to turn back. All those times when he was the cause of your suffering, when you ended up in the hospital due to his failure, when he wasn't there the day your father left, and how later you said he was fine and that it didn't matter.

Maybe you'd actually sum it up to something like I love you, don't you mind? Because nothing could happen above that, you loved Matty as if he were your other half and even if he meant suffering more than anything else, you accepted it because you preferred to have him than not. But you knew that those opportunities were nil, nothing more would happen with him and the almost kiss a few weeks ago had made it clear.

On the other hand, Matty had started to cry. The taste of the tobacco was now a mixture of salt water and nicotine.

— Time to leave. — He says it slowly, extinguishing the remains against the cement and drying the trace of his face.

They both get back together after a while with some effort. Then you extend your hand to him so you don't lose him in the crowd when you have to cross it. It takes some effort, but you manage to breathe in the fresh air and see the light from the post outside faster than you thought.

—Can I sleep at your house today? My house is...complicated. — The hands of you two let go as both begin to walk along the brick pavement of Manchester. There's a small ringing in your ears but you nod, he's not in the state to show up at his house.

— Yes. — Your direct word calm him to the point that he adopts a calm that does not allow him to see a loose cable in the street and trip over it. — You can't walk, at least not like this. — You say, reaching out to him with concern. — Here we go, big boy.

You grip his wrist tighter, trying to provide some stability, until he changes his grip and runs his hand around your waist, wrapping it around it and pulling you as close to him as he can, seeking to get you inside of him. When he moves his fingers he notices the temperature of your skin.

— You're cold, put on my jacket, please. — He brakes and looks at you defiantly, without losing that tone of chivalry.

— It's okay, we're close to my house. — You comment without paying attention to his frown. Then you see the light about to be left at the beginning of the block and break your hold under his watchful eye.

You run, always holding on to him until the central point of the park that you are crossing. Since you have his hand in yours, you spin him around a few times while neither of you can stop laughing.

They both feel like they are floating regardless of any other part of the world or any other matter. If they both touched their hearts they would discover that it is stronger than ever.

He caresses your cheek and takes the opportunity to smudge an eyelash. Then they melt into an embrace completely overflowing with desperation, love, affection, and the need to freeze there forever. Eternity in this line sounds incredible.

— I'm very glad to have you. — You murmur in his ear, and then you give his a kiss on the cheek. You don't need and don't want him to answer, so you decide to run to the door of your house and wait for him there.

Tomorrow he won't remember this, so it's okay, you tell yourself.

Tomorrow he'll remember every part of this, living it second by second, then it will all come flooding back to Matty breaking him deeply.

Then he arrives at your front door and between some silly jokes and some tripping objects, like your brother's toys or some discarded slippers, you make it to your room, although you need to use your supporting weight to carry Matty inside.

— I'll bring a glass of water and a hangover pill. — You tell him and disappear from your own room.

You go down the stairs and it seems that you also go down to reality.

What the fuck are you doing? What has happened and why hasn't you stopped sooner? You put your hand to your head in frustration and drink water, then fill another glass and look for the pills. Tomorrow you will not only have discomfort from the drink.

You return to the bedroom, opening and closing the door carefully. The scene petrifies you, he is sitting on the white back of your bed, taking up as much space as he can. Then he looks at you, and smiles at you as if he were a child who had just been caught being mischievous. You feel like you could die of lovey-dovey right now.

— I'm going to the bathroom to put on my pajamas. — You open the closet and take out the largest T-shirt you can find, then the pijamas that are clean. — Use this. — You stretch out your arm and he catches the shirt along with a pair of shorts, internally you wish he would finish before you leave the bathroom.

Being used to the routine, taking off your clothes and removing your makeup doesn't take you more than five minutes, just enough for him to scan every corner of the room after changing with quite some effort. He smiles when he sees the box full of Polaroids of you and the entire band, and then feels like he's dying a little more when he sees the self titled car at the head of your furniture.

You open the bathroom door and he needs to swallow hard to keep from stumbling. Even in your pink heart pijamas you look just as spectacular as you do in your black miniskirt and boots.

—You seem very....funny— You scan it and you laugh when you see how short the clothes you gave him are. Then you realize that the mattress is not here, but you don't want to go out and look for another one. —Does it bother you if we sleep together? —It's nothing you haven't done, but it still requires a certain degree of difficulty to ask.

He denies sweetly and moves away as far as he can when you get on your bed, there is an unbearable barrier between the two of you.

So, he lets it out. Something internally takes over him.

— You are my favorite person in the whole world, my love. — He try to whisper it because you force yourself to believe that he thinks you're sleeping. He doesn't manage to whisper it anyway, and you hear his voice begin to crack and his heart begin to pour out. Your greatest fear comes to light when the way he speaks condemns it, you've seen too many movies to know what's coming.

No. He can't do this to you, you can't bear that tomorrow he will forget about this entire night and you must pretend that for a moment it makes sense that he also loves you the same way you do. You want to believe that he dreams of you too.

— Don't do it, Matty. Please do not do it. — You say to him with all your strength, while a swirl of water begins to grow in the sockets of your eyes. —Just... don't.

— Why? — He whimpers and staggers in his speech, he's taking it all on herself not to show you that he's breaking into miles of pieces.

— Because you're high, very high. Tomorrow you won't remember anything about this night and you won't be able to pretend this never happened. — You turn slowly, and then you wipe away the first tear that runs on his eyelid. — I really wish things could be different and that you would make this confession when you're not high.

For a moment he stops talking and you think you've won the battle and that there is a temperance that calms the threat. But he falls apart.

— I love you. I've always loved you and I can't stand another damn minute without telling you. — Tears simply fall down both of their cheeks and soak the pillowcases. You shake your head non-stop in a negative way.

He can't just let go now, at the moment when you're most emotionally vulnerable, so that tomorrow he can go off with the first girl he finds. In the long run it has always been like this, he gets over it and you are still there with a broken heart and forever devoted to him.

—Go to sleep, Matty. — Your request breaks him a little more, the tone destroys him although it is not very strong. — Do not make it harder.

He shifts uneasily, but he also understands that he can't force you to feel the same way. What he doesn't know is that if he just said he wouldn't leave tomorrow, you would run into his arms.

But he doesn't do it, nor does he close his eyes to fall asleep. He's there, watching your every move still. You sigh, unable to bear it anymore, maybe tomorrow you will suffer from it but maybe if you let go now it will be easier to overcome.

— I love you too. The same way you do it. — You kiss his head one last time and murmur one last goodbye before turning to sleep. — And it's been an ordeal for me all this time, because you feel it more when you're high and I feel it more when I'm sober.

Apparently your brain works fast and allows you to fall into some dream where this whole story is happier before reality can attack you.

And that's how they finally fall asleep, the both with their hearts in each other's palms, with more scars than before.

Finally, everything gets comically better when you wake up a few hours later and there's no sign of Matty in your entire room.

Just make out that the glass of water is empty and the pill is not there. You laugh sadly before going to sleep without letting yourself cry again, he doesn't remember anything from the night before.

i won't apologize for this. however, thanks for reading <3 let me know what you thought or if you liked it.

Etiquetas: @cxcx75

[jmscornerlibrary]

Unravelling Umbridge: Part 2

In which plans are made, Luna Lovegood unwittingly gets the better of Snape, and Fred and George Weasley are about to be caught completely off guard.

(Part 1 is on my blog :)

Featuring: Madame Rosmerta, Snape's pink cheeks, two fat nifflers and McGonagall as a cat.

Disclaimer: No pairings! This is a Hogwarts Professors being chaos fic. Everything is nice and proper (as it should be).

Enjoy!

***

The Three Broomsticks were relatively empty during the dark hours of after-student curfew: after ten. The hour was half-past, fires blazed in their places and the inn was as toasty as it could be on a chilly September night. The faint babble of chatter and clinking of glass coming from the kitchen and the bar was like honey in the ears of the two teachers sitting in the corner of the inn, after a whole day of shouting and chaos in the classrooms and common rooms.

Madame Rosmerta smiled as she wove her way across to the two of them, a glass of gillywater and Ogden’s upon her tray.

“Hello, Minerva, Professor Snape,” she said, with a little wink at the latter. “What brings you here on a late Monday evening?”

Severus Snape started at the wink, then averted his eyes from the pretty lady and instead grasped his glass of whisky. Minerva McGonagall spied a very faint tinge of pink upon his cheekbones and barely kept her face under control.

“Nothing much, Rosmerta,” she replied with a faint smile. “We have some marking business to discuss. It’s a lot more peaceful here, away from the students… and I daresay not much can happen when everybody is asleep.”

Severus inclined his head a fraction as a way of contributing to the conversation.

“I won’t interrupt you then,” Rosmerta replied with an eye-roll and smile. “I’d rather not get involved with such dark business.”

“Very wise,” McGonagall replied. “Thank you, dear.”

There was a moment’s pause during which both Heads sipped their drinks and fixed their eyes on the table, as Madame Rosmerta made her way back to the bar. Snape sighed faintly.

“Your cheeks are red,” Minerva said, not looking up. Severus didn’t retort, though he had to clear his throat quite thoroughly after swallowing.

“A lot of things can happen when everybody’s asleep, professor,” he replied stonily once he regained his breath. “Let’s talk quickly and return.”

Minerva put down her glass and folded her hands, placing her head upon them. “Let us do that. You are aware, perhaps, that Dolores is fond of cats?”

Severus’ eyes were directed to her as he swallowed his Ogden’s and stayed there as he put his glass down. 

“Cats.”

McGonagall smiled at his baffled tone and expression - the latter was a very peculiar one, for his eyebrows always formed a low, straight line and his eyes narrowed along with his mouth, so he looked as though he had just swallowed an amphibian - and inclined her head, her glasses flashing peculiarly in the light of the candles above them.

“Indeed. She’s really fond of kittens. Have you been in her office, yet?”

He scoffed. “I am yet to experience that pleasure.”

“Oh, you’ll absolutely love it,” she said, recalling her own disgust after she had set foot in it after an invitation. She had almost been surprised that her clothes hadn’t turned pink from exposure. “But all in good time.”

She pulled out the piece of parchment she had drawn up in her office and splayed it out onto the table. Snape leaned over, studied it, then turned his eyes onto her.

“This is just a print of a cat,” he observed, doubt and severe judgement lining his tone.

“That’s right.”

He studied his older counterpart for a few moments longer, but when she gave no answer, he grimaced. “Would you care to enlighten me, Professor?”

“With pleasure,” McGonagall replied, unmistakably smiling now. “You see, Severus… Dolores is fond of cats.”

“Yes, that we have already established.”

“And I, Professor Snape, am an animagus. More precisely…”

She ran a weathered finger over the rim of her glass, her grey eyes flashing with something which made Severus slightly uncomfortable. He had seen this gleam in the eyes of Gryffindor students fairly often when they were intent on acting up in his lessons; it usually meant they were about to toss things across the classroom into one another’s cauldrons, or something that was equally insipid.

“...I am perfectly capable of turning into a cat at leisure.”

Severus Snape’s face did not change, but as he reached for his whisky, his eyebrows crept upwards onto their highest step. The two Heads stared at one another for one long moment, both their eyes now gleaming, after which Severus put down his glass and inclined his head, slightly begrudgingly.

“I must admit that you, Minerva, are full of surprises.”

“My.” She chuckled. “Was that a compliment?”

“I’m disgusted with myself too.”

“A compliment,” she repeated. “From you?”

Severus looked at her long and hard, then shrugged. “You sound astonished. As though I rarely give out compliments, professor. I will have you know that nobody is as generous in their bestowment as I am.”

Minerva humphed, then rolled the parchment up and carefully set it on fire.

“I should give Slytherin a few points just for the sake of it,” she murmured, tilting the parchment with her wand, as it disintegrated above the table. “Perhaps one or two.”

Snape didn’t look impressed, but something of a smile still lingered on his features.

“I am no longer an adolescent, professor.”

“Nonsense. Unfortunately for you…” McGonagall made a little sound of satisfaction as the rest of the parchment vanished, then turned back to him. “You’ll never be a day over fifteen, for this old crone.”

Severus watched this old crone wriggle on her chair for half a second before emptying her glass, revealing as much excitement as her own stiff person perhaps would ever allow itself to, then returned to his usual stony expression after a moment and scoffed.

“I would hate to be in your place, professor,” he said, imagining short, square, flabby fingers with pink nails before him, magnified from a feline’s perspective. “Though, tell me, what exactly do you plan on doing when you enter that disgusting hellscape of magenta and primrose?” He spat out the last three words. “Are you really going to let that woman cluck and coo at you, perhaps even scratch you behind the ears?”

His lips curled upwards and black eyes began to glint. 

“I suppose that would be quite a poke at your dignity. The Head of Gryffindor in such a precarious position? Hm. I reckon you would be giving her a piece of your mind with your steel claws before you could stop yourself, but then the whole plan would be ruined.”

“You would be right.” McGonagall sniffed, no longer liking this turn of events. “Yet I am willing to put it to the side for the greater good, Severus.”

She sent him a pointed glance from behind her spectacles. He rolled his eyes and finished his drink.

“It is a very good idea,” he admitted, placing the glass down with a thunk. “I assume it is to gather more information than we are aware about. Perhaps she hides some strange letters of correspondence in her desk, or something equally vile.”

“Not my thoughts exactly, but whilst I am there, it would not do any harm to sniff around.”

Minerva placed her glass in the middle of the table, neatly. “However, it will not happen straight away, perhaps not even this week. The first few are always the most chaotic. Let us wait until everybody settles down, back into routine… or as much into routine as it can be, with the changes our subject of discussion has so boldly introduced this new order of things… before disturbing it”

They stood; Severus drew a finger over the surface of the table, then turned to Minerva.

“I expect to be informed as soon as you make your first venture, professor.”

“You will be the first,” she replied, as they made their way out of the inn, “and probably the only person who I will inform about this. Stay sharp. And Severus,” she added, looking back at him. “If you are so interested, why don’t you tell Rosmerta directly, instead of being so pathetically discreet? It’s incensing.”

Snape scoffed and averted his eyes from the white smile flashing from over by the bar, surrounded by a cloud of blonde curls, hastily.

“Don’t make me laugh, professor,” he muttered. “Interested. As if.”

Then he stepped past her and stormed out of the inn with his fists clenched and his dark cloak billowing.

*

And so the wait began, though nobody who observed the Potions Master would have thought that he was waiting for anything, for his masks of indifference were so close to perfect that everybody was convinced that Severus Snape was simply living his best life, or at least as close as it could get to that in present circumstances.

In fact, the Head of Slytherin and the Head of Gryffindor hardly spoke to one another at all that week, though they sat next to one another during meals to oversee the miserable silence in which meals were now spent. Both, however, had the pleasure of not sharing the company of Dolores Umbridge directly, who had taken to sitting next to Dumbledore and bestowing her little observations and ‘hem hems’ onto him. Since Albus was so polite as to never reveal what (as everybody was convinced) he really thought of her presence, he was the one who was suffering at large, running his fingers through his beard, his eyes rather solemn behind his half-moon spectacles though his mouth was always politely smiling and baffling Frog Pinky with stories - which most of the staff had heard before and chuckled at, since they were always told with that in mind - which verged on nonsensical.

Sometimes during these meals, Snape would glance at his colleague, who would return his glance without as much as an inclination of her head, and he would understand that it was yet to happen. He didn’t complain, nor grow more impatient, for he had far too much to do in his own time and his temper was put to the test on many occasions anyway, especially when teaching the fifth years, since Potter and his hilarious camaraderie didn’t have any less nonsense in their heads and twice the usual vigour to bring it into his life this year.

None of that put him on edge in the sense that he dreaded, however. Since Severus operated mainly on logic and common sense, he knew there was no way that anybody but his house rival knew of their conspiracy, and so he had no reason to be - and was not - nervous. Nor was he expecting any sort of confrontation with the amphibious, bureaucracy-hailing blob of magenta which terrorised students with greater ease than he did, regardless of the fact that he was almost double her height. 

Confrontation did not come, but eavesdropping did, though it was entirely unintentional. Severus was returning from the staff room after lunch break when upon turning the corner and a suit of armour to where the DADA office stood, he encountered the despised Miss Bufotes-Roseaus at her office door, deep in conversation with Argus Filch.

“I’m telling you, Mr Filch, it was a very pretty little cat, grey, with little black markings on its face. I’m sure you must have seen it before… you do have such a sweet little creature yourself.”

Severus stopped, then receded back behind the corner, into its shadows, and hid behind the suit of armour. From this position, he was almost impossible to see, for there were few windows on this corridor and his clothes were as black as the shadows sticking to the walls, so logic dictated that he ought to listen and collect as much information as possible for the good of the Slytherin-Gryffindor truce, before making his way back. He watched Filch shaking his balding, old head.

“Can’t say I’ve seen it before, professor, but that wouldn’t be the first time Hogwarts has attracted such creatures. I’ve shooed many away on such an occasion myself… my cat is allergic to others of its species, I’m afraid.”

“Well, please be sure to let this one walk around as it pleases, Mr Filch,” Umbridge said with a nod. “I think it’s taken quite a liking to me, and I’ve come to be fond of it myself.”

Severus hardly restrained himself from snorting aloud, though his lip did twitch at the image brought before him of this woman cooing over a po-faced, stiff-backed Minerva-the-cat. He owed his colleague for making him laugh, he thought - it wasn’t a common occurrence and he prized it. But then the conversation turned, and they began to speak of something different, something which had rather the opposite effect on him.

“Tell me, Mr Filch,” Toadus Pinkus began in her sickening sing-song. “What do you think of the professors here?”

Filch pushed out his lips as he thought. “That depends upon what grounds.”

“Why, teaching, of course!” came the reply. “And their beliefs. Those are important qualities, the most important qualities a professor can have. After all, they unknowingly bestow their views and upbringing upon the ones who they teach, and in a world as this one…”

“I see, I see,” Filch said, frowning as he searched in that knock-hollow head he carried on his dowager-humped shoulders. “I suppose most of them are quite good, Professor Umbridge.”

“Hm. Have you ever partook in any recent Care of Magical Creatures lessons, Mr Filch?”

Snape didn’t quite know why, but his fist tightened into the fold of his robes where was currently holding them. Filch nodded.

“I have, actually. I myself have helped with amassing some creatures Mr Hagrid had gotten ready for the lessons.”

“And are they fully approvable? The lessons?”

Filch hesitated. Severus could almost see his little brain working. Umbridge filled the care-taker in.

“They follow the Ministry curriculum? Does he communicate on an acceptable standard?”

Filch frowned; Severus felt his temper rising up like fiery bile from his lungs and into his head.

“Why, I suppose he does…” Filch scratched his chin. “I’m hardly ever there, really. I couldn’t really tell you, professor. You’ll have to see for yourself.”

“A good idea, Mr Filch.” Severus could see the toad smile, as she adjusted the pink bows stuck to the side of her head. “Your domain is mainly the castle corridors, I assume?”

“That’s right.”

“So you know how the other professors do, I suppose.”

“I’ve seen this and that.”

“What about… hm, the dark, unpleasant-looking man. Severus Snape, I believe his name was. Thin, with a crooked nose, surly expression?”

Snape barely repressed a scoff. They could laugh at him if they wished to, he thought, for he was immune to such abominable slighting and often did some of his own in his head, though his slighting was directed at others too. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about him, Professor Umbridge,” Filch waved his hand with a snort. “The students get on quite alright in his lessons, that’s without a doubt. In fact, I often find myself wishing other teachers would take a leaf out of his book.”

“Hm. Indeed,” Umbridge hummed again. “And the old woman?”

Severus felt the veins in his neck begin to grow hot. He held his breath, expecting more. Filch frowned again. 

“Old woman?”

“Yes. I believe McGonagall was her name.”

“Oh!” Filch nodded, then lowered his voice and flicked his eyes around the corridor nervously. “I cannot complain about Professor McGonagall! She’s taught at Hogwarts long before I walked its halls, professor, and from what I’ve seen she has not a single fault in her teaching. A very good witch. Doesn’t quite believe in punishing students as they ought to be, however. A shame, if you ask me.”

“Indeed,” Umbridge pursed her thick lips. “It seems to me that she’s a little too above herself.”

Ha, Severus thought, not even realising he was running his fingers along the smooth material of his wand in his sleeve, does she now.

Filch merely inclined his head at this, but kept silent.

“As though she owns the place,” Umbridge continued. “Perhaps she fancies herself the Headmistress, one day. Quite a prolonged goal, if that’s the case… she must be almost at the end of her life, and she’s spent most of it here, from what I’ve heard… She doesn’t have long to realise it.”

Severus slowly drew out his wand.

“Why, she has,” Filch said.

“A rather sad one… but, that’s simply how life is. It’s not fair, as we both know, Mr Filch, life. Some people amount to greatness, some people…” She sighed, looking pitifully at probably an invisible McGonagall beside them. “Well, they contribute something to the world, but nothing of significance.”

Severus’ hand didn’t tremble as he lifted it, as he saw black and red, his lungs constricted, fire in his veins, pointing the tip of his wand at Umbridge. Fury only increased precision and potency in his spells.

“Some people are simply good enough to be turned into dust,” he found himself murmuring as he took a step back, readying himself, “and that’s the best thing they can hope to amount to… as do the people around them.”

He was about to flick his wrist; just about to hiss out something uncontrollable in the pit of his mind and step back, when something rustled behind him and he froze, shooting a look over his shoulder, his heart stumbling in its thudding plunge from fury to shock.

Two unnaturally-huge, silvery-blue eyes stared up at him, standing a mere two steps away from where he hid. Severus recognised this student; he would be a fool not to, for she stood out with her crazy ornaments, jewellery and distinct bolt-crazy habits. At present, she was clutching a stack of magazines with a pair of strange goggles on her forehead which pressed down her platinum-blonde locks and she was looking at him without a hint of trepidation or concern in her expression.

“Please carry on, professor,” Luna Lovegood murmured dreamily. “I just wanted to watch.”

Severus would have never admitted it, but he felt a strange shudder roll through him which pulled at his nerves. He was uneasy; only for a few moments, however. 

He stepped out from behind the suit of armour and retreated back around the corner to where Lovegood stood, leaving the gossiping pair at Umbridge’s door, then sucked in a breath, felt his temper restart, shoved his wand up his sleeve and made motion with his head for her to follow him.

When they got a safe distance away, he stopped his march and rounded on her. The only trouble was, now that he had been caught about to hex another colleague, he didn’t quite know what he should shout at her. But he didn’t need to. She spoke first.

“She’s an awful creature, isn’t she, professor?” Luna Lovegood adjusted her grip on the stack of magazines she was holding - most of them were upside down - and blinked once. “To be truthful, I wish you’d had done it. Please don’t worry about me telling anybody. I would have done it myself, if I could.”

Snape unfastened his jaw, still quite at a loss for words. “Would you, now.”

“Yes. She reminds me of a doxy. Quite a large and fat one, but a doxy regardless.”

He paused, actually snorted in amusement, feeling his muscles protest at the unnatural action of grinning, then regained himself and looked at Lovegood long and hard. After a moment, he just flicked his head towards the other end of the corridor and folded his arms.

“Go,” he said. “Before I take any points off for skulking about the castle.”

She nodded, not taking her unblinking eyes off him for a moment, gave him a little bow, then turned and walked off calmly to her destination. 

Snape watched her, perplexed, then remembered what he had heard upstairs and clenched his fists. Nothing he could do now, however, would do anybody any good, so he simply turned on his heel and swept off to his classroom before anything else made him explode again.

*

It was on a grey Thursday afternoon - three days after the incident with Luna Lovegood - that Severus, whilst rubbing at his temples and muttering darkly under his breath, still smelling the smoke which had coated the surface of his classroom after a particular accident, found that his waiting had come to an end. Minerva finally nudged the topic which had bubbled on his mind and reminded him of the days in which he had tossed a dungbomb into Sirius Black’s bag - the latter hadn’t noticed until it went off halfway down the corridor and Severus hadn’t forgotten the surge of delight which had took hold of his chest for two days after and whenever he had recalled it. 

McGonagall matched his step on the way to the staff room so silently and without announcement that he had glanced to his left and ended up flinching when he spotted her black hat, balanced upon her head at its usual degree.

“You look like you’ve swallowed an eel,” the elderly witch observed, as he scowled and grimaced at the way his heart thudded against his will.

“I feel as though I’ve swallowed an eel,” Severus muttered, shooting out a sigh through his nostrils. “And I will go as far as to swallow a poisonous one if you comment on any house points, crying students, my expression, or whatever it is I smell like. I’ve had it up to here with everything today, and I’m unwilling to make any exceptions, whether it be to my elders or betters or whatnot.”

Minerva’s lip twitched. 

“Oh, please,” she said once he had finished grouching. “You must realise that you say that every other day. So many times, in fact, that your threats are no longer imposing. But don’t worry Severus, I wasn’t going to, for I have many more important matters to discuss with you before the day is out.”

They glanced at one another, one gaze amused, one perplexed, then made a synchronised U-turn in the middle of the corridor and began to sweep their way in the opposite direction.

“I won’t keep you waiting,” Minerva said, glancing up at him from behind her steely spectacles. “From what I have observed, there’s nothing we, as teachers, can do.”

Snape graced her with a cool glance.

“You have kept me waiting for two weeks after dragging me to suffer at Rosmerta’s just to tell me that there’s nothing we can do?”

She blinked at him with raised eyebrows, then sighed. 

“I’m sorry you were so excited about it, Severus. It’s just that I don’t think we ought to stoop so low as to jinx or hex her in the corridors. That’s something that first-years do to one another. We are adults.”

Severus remembered his precarious hiding place behind the suit of armour and his murderous thoughts and intentions and said nothing.

“In short, there’s nothing we can do without blowing everything over.”

They passed through the main entrance, out onto the school grounds. It was a clear day, as warm as though it was still remembering summer, and mostly silent leave rustling and the far-away barking of the Game Keeper’s dog. Severus drew his cloak about him out of habit, scowling at the sky as Minerva walked along with him, her eyes darting here and there to detect anything unusual, also out of habit.

“Perhaps it is for the better,” she said, after they had made their way out onto the Quidditch pitches. “We are, after all, adults. Well, at least one of us is.”

Severus harrumphed in response. Minerva’s lip twitched.

“So you also think it is better to call this off?”

“No,” came the short answer, surprising her. “Conspiracy has become the highlight of my life and I refuse to give it up so easily.”

McGonagall’s eyebrows were raised again as she directed a look at him.

“Conspiracy? Nonsense.” She scoffed. “Conspiracy indeed. It is vengeance you want.”

“And I am not alone in wanting it,” he snapped. “You’ve been just as petty as I have in the roseau regard. Perhaps more.”

“Be that as it may, vengeance is something to frown upon.”

“Ha,” he scoffed. “That depends on the circumstances-”

“Wait, hush.”

They stopped. Minerva frowned; Severus turned.

“It looks like somebody is out,” he muttered after a pause, his eyes turned upwards. “I just wonder where…”

They both noticed ‘where’ at the same moment. Both had the wits about them to keep silent, though both also were stunned into looking sillier than both of them would have wanted.

Fred Weasley was leaning out of the top battlement, his wand out, looking very gleeful as he hovered down a niffler down to a particular window, about three stories below him. A few metres to his left, George Weasley was hovering down another; both creatures were strangely calm as they spun on different axis, as though they knew full well what was about to happen and were fully anticipating it.

McGonagall regained her voice, though it came out rather unsteady. “Merlin’s beard.”

Severus had shut his mouth by now and was observing the two devils with interest, his hands folded behind his back.

“It appears that that window,” he murmured after a moment, “is our most esteemed Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher’s.”

His voice made him sound almost impressed and was quite serene, though his counterpart was neither of those things one bit.

“But they’re on the battlements,” she said in a slightly strangled voice. “Merlin’s beard, they’re inches from slipping-!”

She started forward after inhaling a swift breath, probably to speak her mind very thoroughly about what she thought about them being so insipidly dim-witted, but Severus stuck out an arm to stop her. She looked at him as though he was mad. He certainly had a strange glint in his eyes. Even the corners of his mouth were turned up. 

“There’s no way we can do this without blowing it, you say, professor?” 

Minerva’s severely judgemental look grew about ten times denser.

“Heavens above, you are mad.”

“I am not,” he said gently, then pointed above him neatly. “But they most certainly are.”

Minerva looked up just in time to see the two fat nifflers roll through the open window, the Weasley twins shoot one another looks of pure pleasure, rub their hands, and their flaming heads disappear after ducking down. It was followed very closely by a sound as though somebody had smashed a glass jewellery box and a couple of dinner plates onto a stone floor, followed by an indignant meow.

There was a pause in which Snape and McGonagall looked at one another. Then, without a word, they both turned neatly on their heels and made their way back to the castle, with varying degrees of satisfaction and resolution upon their faces.

[bangytell]

The Perfect Date | pjm M

Summary: Your sister's getting married, hiring someone from the advertising of the magazine doesn't seem like a bad idea even with all the benefits you seem to find along.

Genre: Strangers to Lovers, Smut, fluff

Rated: mature, +18

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Pet names, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: Just wanted to get this out of my drafts, enjoy.

The steam of vape on the shower made you feel at ease just for a little while the razor helped you shave your legs.

The phone rang four times and you answered when that sweet, masculine voice greeted you.

"Hello, it's this [name] Brown?"

"This is me" left the razor aside because you knew it required more concentration that you couldn't get at the moment

"Just to get everything straight, you are sending my ticket and I will see you on the airplane, is that correct?"

"It is" you squeaked and cleared your throat for repeating "Yes, yes it is" he giggles and then answer

"Until then Mrs. Brown" he hangs up. 

Once on the plane, you started looking around to find the man on your call, he showed up in a black suit, white shirt, and a blue tie. Very… handsome, you must admit.

"Hello there" he took a seat behind you "It's my first time in first-class" he smiled and for a second his eyes disappear

"Hi, let's get some things on the table" he nods full attention to you "We met at a bar, you're a therapist and crazy in love with me" 

"Sounds like a good story to tell"

"Your job is to make everybody believe it, even me" he came closer to your seat 

"On the phone, you said that your family are the ones that want you married" you nod, full attention on his plump lips and glowing eyes

"I am the oldest, my sister is the one getting married before me and I am pretty nervous because I had to call for you, my family it's not even a crazy one, it drives me crazy but-..." he placed a finger over your lips

"You also mentioned an ex, am I right?"

"That is like the other… situation"

"Can you talk about it?" you nod, even when it brought you deep bad memories

"His name's Namjoon, we dated for four years later when I graduate, and when I thought he was gonna propose to me, he… dumped me, now he's the best man, best friend of my sister's fiance" the plane started it's way to the sky and he looked at you in a way you couldn't exactly define. 

No words came later, so you slept the whole flight given the circumstances.

Once in London, he helped you with your bags and told you of the droll on your cheeks. You flustered.

"I have more siblings, my parents are divorced so please don't bring that up, and-" you stopped because you had to go to the bathroom and change for a cocktail dress.

The public airport bathroom seemed a good option, you chose a blue dress, and once out you remember he had a blue tie.

"Is it cheesy? I think it is, they will think it is"

"We can stop somewhere and get you ready" he suggested

So you did, a bar became your closet and he was outside waiting.

"Do you think this black one is better?" it was option two, the other one was a red dress

He looked at you, head to toe, and denied with his head.

"I wear the red one, also the bartender told me that" you flustered and got inside the bathroom to change and go for the red one.

The ride to the salon where family, friends, among some other people you assumed were friends with your sister, was quick.

On the back, you left your bags and coats, and you gave him his payment.

"Six grand, just like we agreed"

"Okay" he took the envelope and leave it on his jacket

"No, no, wait you have to count it" he stopped his actions

"I believe in you"

"I just want to remind myself that I paid to someone just to get it as a date on my sister's wedding"

"Look, don't be so hard on yourself, the money is in my pocket and all you have to worry is to look pretty, which is not much difficult, I will be by your side" you flustered for a second and then got together just to confront all the people you haven't seen in many years.

You greet everyone, your friends, your family and he seems to be kind to new people.

Your best friend walks up to you, you haven't seen her in years.

"Lizzy, I've missed you" she hugs you tight

"You are the one that lives in New York" both of you laugh 

"Lizzy I want you to meet my date, Jimin" he smiles and shakes her hand

"Park Jimin, nice to meet you"

"Oh, a foreign, well nice to meet you I'm Lizzy, or as everyone else know me Elizabeth" her British accent was really pretty, one of the favorite people for you to listen talk to

Your mother came up to you, gave a kiss to your friend, then you, and gave his hand to the man you came with.

"I'm [name]’s mother" he kisses her on the back of her hand and she giggled 

He placed a hand over your waist, made you come closer, and then talked again

"I'm [name]’s date" the smile on your mother's face was priceless

He didn't move his hand out of your waist, you went to the bar and asked for a margarita.

More people came and said hi until you saw him. He wore a gray suit, he had no glasses on and looked as perfect as you remember.

A few margaritas later you needed to go to the bathroom.

He was on your way out.

"Hey, [name], how have you been?"

Your cousin showed up.

"Hey, Namjoon since you already stole four years for her, you don't mind if I take her away, would you?"

"Actua-"

"You're so nice, keep going"

You were at the bar again, he wasn't around so you just ordered another margarita.

Surprisingly your father came by and hugged you with a kiss on the cheek and likewise did his wife. Your brother came and hugged you.

"I've missed you" he was taller than you but still young

"Me too Tom" he smiled and left with a sorry

You felt a hand at your waist and jumped scared.

"Oh, there you are" 

"Your mother took me to meet your aunts" he giggled when he saw the look on your face

"Oh my Lord, did she?" he nods and you give a sip to your margarita.

"I'm getting some fresh air, wanna join me?" the glass was empty and honestly you think that you couldn't get through without the alcohol.

"I'ma get another glass" he left the warmth of his hand and went outside.

Chatting with your best friend and cousin while the margaritas kept coming you forgot about your date. 

In the meantime, your ex and he were having a conversation.

"Friend of the bride or the groom?" he asked looking at him a few inches apart

"I came with the bride's sister" his eyes open up in surprise

"[Name]?" Jimin nodded at his question like he didn't say that you came along with him, but Jimin's expression was neutral 

"And are you with the bride or the groom?"

"How is she doing?" he said, not answering his question

"She has been fine, very successful" he nodded and seem… taciturn 

"I think I made a mistake…" he said in a very low voice until he saw you coming to meet Jimin.

The drunk you were brave enough to kiss the man, so it happened.

His plump lips tasted delicious as he held you by the waist, your ex left a few moments later.

"Is he gone?" you turned around to find the spot empty "What did he say to you?"

"Are you okay?" you nodded and he continued talking "He said that he made a mistake, then you came along"

Your mother had a microphone, and you knew that didn't mean something good would come along but it seems that your family didn't care.

"Thank you all so much for assisting for the wedding of my youngest daughter Ava, it was quite a surprise when we find out that she was the one getting married, we all thought that [name] would marry Namjoon first"

"Mom!" you squeaked in shame 

"Yes, right I was talking about Ava, congrats on the wedding my dear"

Your dad came along and said some words for Ava, as your date held you by the waist.

"I think I'm drunk" you confessed

"Everyone can tell" he chuckled

"Don't be like that, I haven't gotten drunk in a long time"

"And seven mojitos seemed like a good idea"

"I'm not even that drunk"

"You kissed me"

"So? you have plump lips they're pretty"

"Pretty?" he chuckled again "No one ever said that to me"

"How come? They are" you traced them with your finger and he smiled looking at your eyes and finding a glow in them

"You're quite a thing aren't you?" 

"I guess so" he chuckled

Both of you were at your dad's house, they gave you a room. 

"I'm taking a shower" he claimed as he walked away 

They left you with one bed only and you barely knew the man, what were you supposed to do?

It was late so you needed the rest, it didn't matter at the moment.

Finally getting a bed and a good sleep you took it.

When the morning came, you felt the sickness of yesterday drinks, everything kicking in, and you rushed into the bathroom to puke as much as possible, after brushing your teeth you noticed that Jimin had slept on the floor, wearing only the bottom part of the pajama, and the blood run through your cheeks to paint them red. His torso was toned and it literally glowed, suddenly the knocks on the door scared you and made you jump on your place, Jimin started to wake up.

“Get on the bed” you whispered and he got up and layed down with you while you heard on the door your mother asking if you were dressed with a little giggle 

“Come in mom, stop embarrassing me” she giggled again and opened the door to the look of you both on bed, with Jimin without t-shirt

“Well, i see you had fun” Jimin chuckled

“Were you going to say something?” you remembered her, annoy by now

“Ah, yes, we are having breakfast at your sister's house, so get dressed we’re leaving in 20 minutes” you nod and agitate with your hand that she could leave.

After she went out, the warmth of Jimin’s body startled you, it was like you weren’t living at the moment until he asked you something.

“Sorry, what?” he chuckled

“Are we going to change?” you got up, quickly and grabbed some clothes from your bag “You can change here, i’ll be in the bathroom” he nods and you got lost inside after closing the door behind you.

The baby blue dress with a cute lace on the back seemed good for breakfast, and after your subtle but good makeup was done you heard a knock on the door, it was Jimin.

“I’m ready, just waiting for you sweetheart” you opened the door, he got startled but maintained the beautiful smile on him “I see you’re all dolled up” you chuckled 

“Does this dress say “Look at me ex, I'm better off without you”?” he nods and you make your way out.

At your sister’s house, well hers and her fiance, almost everyone was there, your sister's bridesmaids, and the best man of the groom, the parents of the groom, and everyone was already sitting by the time you got there. 

Pancakes, fruit, bacon, syrup, sausage, eggs, oatmeal, coffee and just to name a few, from what your sister told you, her fiance parents had like tons of money so it felt like a private restaurant just at the comfort of your house.

Jimin and you served all you wanted, from that you learned that he also liked his coffee sweet if not he would not have it, you two went to take a seat, in the large table, your ex decides to sit in front of you, Jimin steals your focus, he begins to talk about a business the he participates and his voice sound like heaven, he mentions other job, you assume the one his right now, and he mentions that he met lots of people, with the same intentions, no harm done, that even once they tried to punch him, you chuckled with look of your ex all over you.

Jimin comes close to your ear to whisper something to you, his cologne smells fantastic.

“I think we made your ex pretty jealous” with a soft chuckled you nod

Your mother stands up, with a glass in her hand, you think that 11 am is the time to be drinking wine, but who are you to judge? 

“Once again I want to thank everyone for coming, this is very special for me and my beautiful daughter Ava, for her happiness” she extends her glass and all of us says cheers to it”

“At least this time she didn’t talk about how i was supposed to be marrying” you whisper, closer to Jimin’s ear and he chuckled.

“Sissy, remember that tomorrow is the bachelorette party” everyone got up and she was holding you by the hands

“Yes Ava, i know your schedule very well, don’t worry i’ll be there” 

You hear shouts from afar, you don’t know how but Namjoon has Jimin by a chokehold, and everyone is trying for him to let go. You step in, no screams or forcing anything, just making him let go, when Namjoon sees that you help Jimin instead of him, he steps back. Jimin is fighting to get air back to him.

“I don’t know what happened, and I don’t want you to tell, just don’t touch him again,  you understand?” he was tall, way more tall than you and still you stood right in front of him, and talked all serious. He looked scared, and walked away and your sister's fiance stepped in. Namjoon nods, and walks out.

“Jimin, are you good?” he nods, with more color on his face now.

“He could have looked worse” you chuckle, good thing he didn’t hurt him.

You two went to the bathroom to help Jimin get some water on his face.

“He was jealous, and told me that i shouldn’t have come here” after damping a towel and wring the excess of water you put it on his forehead

“I’m so sorry for all the trouble” you looked anxious, and Jimin noticed, hold your hands down and look at your eyes

“It’s not your fault, okay?” you nod when you hear voices from afar

“No, dude, i’m not jealous” it was Namjoon

“Yeah right, and that was why you almost punched her new date”

“I’m telling you, he looks like a goal digger, like he’s just after her money” they were talking about you two. You just kept quiet and listened.

“Don’t try to project yourself” namjoon chuckled with a grin and then his face was serious

“You know it wasn’t like that, [name] didn’t even had that much money as now”

“Yeah just that she was boring, and not good in bed, i remembered those words after you told me you fucked someone else” your looks changed, Jimin gazed upon you and saw the tears that started to fall out, he hugged you. Not going out still,  they’ll have to leave first.

“I was stupid and young, okay? Let’s head back before someone notices we are gone” Namjoon ended, you heard the footsteps as they walked away, everyone after the next hurting you more.

Boring? Was that what he always thought? Were you ever going to even find a man?

You left, with Jimin as company back to your father's house, the whole way back was full of tears, with soft strokes on your hair from Jimin. He knew you didn’t deserve him, but maybe you did need it to hear it from him. What happened before the choking could be a topic for later. Right now you wanted to be curled up in bed. and so you did.

The day after, you got a good eyeliner, even on your lower eyelid, and with a red wine dress you were sipping one drink after the other at the bachelorette.

“Hey [name] what happened yesterday with Namjoon?” you shrugged your shoulders and kept drinking 

“I wasn’t there, so I’m not like a fight referee” when you looked at the person asking of course your sister had to invite her, the girl that made your life a nightmare at high school and collage, but her friend after all

“Stop being so defensive, I see alcohol finally got you” you chuckled and ordered another drink, why would she care

“You know what, screw you Georgia, get lost” you don’t know where you got the courage to do that, but she was flabbergasted and left.

It’s been an hour since everything started, your sister was dancing and all you could do was drink by yourself.

“Are you sure you’ll be good by yourself” Jimin nods “He’s going to be there, and drunk, so please try not to, you know, be near him” He chuckled at your worries 

“I’ll be good, stop worrying and promise you’ll have fun” you nod, and he caressed your face before leaving with your brother in law into that van.

Why did he do that? and why could you still feel it on your skin, his hands were a little harsh but it also felt smooth, you couldn’t put into a right thought what you meant by that, and while being lost in thought you didn’t notice your sister coming up to you.

“[Name] what made you so lonely and sad? You miss your boyfriend?” you chuckled

“Unlike you, i know how to be by myself” her eyes water a little 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” alcohol can not get the better in you 

“I’m sorry Ava, go back to your friends and forget i ever said anything”

“You know, sissy, my dad is always worried about you, always thinking what his daughter is doing outside the country, maybe if he knew you could be alone he wouldn’t have to live with the worries on him” the bitter tone and the way she looked at you, you knew it was all with pure hatred of you, but words can’t get that much of you, so she just leaves.

In the meantime, Jimin is at the stripclub, drinking very slowly and just watching as everyone else haves fun, in their own way, while the groom is very happy with a dancer on his legs, and a few friends around him, cheering and drinking, like if that was the best achievement a man can have. He notices Namjoon up in a corner, drinking and just looking, not moving that much, so Jimin walks up to him, he’s not that scared of big guys.

“What’s on your mind?” Namjoon frowns and looks at him, he’s tall but not that tall, for him at least.

“None of your business” he sounds harsh

“I’m just making conversation”Jimin chuckles, it’s like life is just fun for him, or so Nam thinks

“You’re not mad about what i did” Jimin shrugs 

“I can’t be more mad to you than what you’re to yourself” Nam huff and kept drinking

“I don’t understand why would [name] date you” 

“And why not?” Jimin chuckles “You gotta stop being so prejudiced, you don’t know me, and me being a few inches smaller than you doesn’t make you any better” Jimin left, he didn’t have anything else to said, he started to get bored, until he gets a phone call from you, he answers

“Jimin, how’s everything going?” he notices Nam approaching 

“We’re having fun sweetheart, what about you?” the music was a bit too loud, but with a loud voice he believed you could hear him

“I’m so bored, and all the girlies are leaving for like an after party, but i am soo tired” you sound different, like making every word last longer in your tongue and a little dumb

“Would you like me to go with you?” he feels enthusiast for seeing you more in that amazing red dress, not that he likes you, but he’s a man after all, it wouldn’t hurt to see

“Well, yes, you could if you want” Jimin chuckles

“I’ll be there gorgeous” you hang up, Nam walks away and Jimin calls a taxi on his way out, he remembers the address of the place you were, by the time he’s there you are already outside with a cigarette in between your fingers, anxiety always got the best of you.

You see him, and he comes to take you by the waist. You're drunk enough to tell him that he doesn’t have to do it, so you let the warmth of him hug your body.

Once in the cab, you say the address and he looks at you with a soft smile

“Stop looking at me like that” he chuckles

“What do you mean?” you’re looking at the window, seeing the lights go through

“Like you like me” 

“I like you, i think you’re great” you gaze him

“No, not that type of like, I mean like having real feelings for me” Jimin looks at you, not a word and still looking you in the same way 

“Is that a problem?” your heart starts pounding hard in your chest 

“I mean, i think so, you’re working” he shrugs

“As long as it’s okay with my boss” you chuckle

You got home, and ran to the bathroom to throw every drink to the toilet, why did your stomach had to do you dirty, after brushing your teeth, washing your face and changing clothes, you lied down on bed

“Jimin?” you whisper

“Yes?” 

“Where are you from?” he smiles

“South Korea and I assume you’re from here?” 

“I lived here my whole life but my mom and dad used to live in California, and what about your family?”

“I only have one brother, and my mom and dad live over there”

“And why did you leave?” 

“I have business, and don’t think I don’t want to see my family I just choose a very moved type of life”

“And they understand?” he hums “That must be great, my family thinks i want to be away and not see anyone”

“Do you?” you laugh and he has all the attention on you, even when you’re far apart.

Silence gets through the room, thousands of questions try to escape the bubble in your throat, with softs breathings the sleeps kicks you, the mild light of the hearth on the corner of the room, suddenly a heaviness on the other side of the bed startles you, turning around his face ends up too close. 

“No, but my dad is at New York” he looks at you, confused 

“But…”

“He’s my stepdad, you know, it’s complicated, my biological father leaves and after all these years try to… bond with me, my stepdad was worried i end up hurt by him, again”

“Everyone can worry, is hard not to” you nod 

“I also believe that i was here to look after Ava, even tho we have no blood relation”

“You don’t?” you deny with your head, usually no one knows about this, cause nobody else cares 

“We just have been together since very small, she is my sister” he nods, forgetting you cant see him 

“I understand, don’t have a step brother, but surely can understand you” you giggle

“That’s why she’s always… fighting to me, everything i did she wanted to do it better, if had a boyfriend, she had to have that guy, ‘m just tired of fighting for that place, so i left” you sigh, he scoops closer to you and cups your face in his hands 

“You earn and own every space there is” you grin, this feels weird, as if.. it was part of the money you gave him

You turn around from him, trying to fall asleep forgetting he’s there. He got paid to say that, to behave a certain way.

The next morning was the rehearsal dinner, but you felt uneasy and worried. While getting ready, you barely locked your gaze with Jimin.

First breakfast on that beautiful cabain your parents had, Jimin pulled you away from everyone, and you see his worried eyes for the first time.

“What’s going on?” you shrug as if he couldn’t tell by now

“Nothing, let’s get back” you sound selfless

“What happened to the bubbly and outgoing you?” you shrug, again, he met you like half week and he seems to know you so much

“It’s not part of your job to worry about that” he was flabbergasted 

“Wait, so, you think that i’ve been acting like this for my job you so wrong”

“Am I?” he nod and huffed when you crossed your arms in front of him

The dress you were wearing made his cock throb under his pants and pant under his breath, and also because your tits were driving him insane every time he sees you. He licked his under lip and looked at your gaze.

“You have zero idea about me” you nod and your tits wiggle a bit, forgive me ,forgive me for being such a stupid animal, he felt like a teenager boy looking at his teacher's boobs.

“Yes Jimin, i don’t know much, cause this is all a lie” he denies with his head 

“Please, watch your tone” you felt suddenly that everyone could be hearing, nobody was even around.

“Jimin, i really don't want to be hurt again, so let's just do us a favor and-...” he stopped you mid speech with his soft lips pressed against yours, the air in your lungs stopped flying through and all you could breathe was Jimin’s cologne, he deepened the kiss, pulling you by the neck, opening his mouth leaving room for his tongue to get into the kiss, it was sloppy and needy, as if he wishes to show you what he means just by that soft lips against yours. 

His hands began to wander between your hips and your ass, pulling you closer, as if close wasn’t close enough.

“Jimin…” you gasp between his lips moving “Upstairs” he nods, pulling away and letting you take the lead.

As soon as you’ve entered the room meant for both of you, he begins to kiss you again, less messier and trying to pull your stupid shoes, now the laces seemed a bad idea, the two chuckle as soon as the shoe finally is free of your toe. 

He also took his shoes off.

“We have to get back” you gasp when your ass touches the bed, he unbuckles his belt and his pants a little just to be free from his torso till his knees. He helps you pull your dress up until your waist, since you're going commando.

“Damn baby girl, are you trying to kill me?” you giggle as his body hovers over yours and begins his way to kiss you again

“It wasn’t really my intention, this dress doesn’t go with underwear” with a cocky grin you lose breath when his finger touch your clit 

Not losing any more time and he’s been really anxious to be inside of you, his cock bullies inside your folds, begins to thrust deep and hard making your mouth leave saccharine and sweet moans with each struck of his cock.

Soon enough Jimin’s moans of his orgasm hits when he’s breathing in the cup of your neck, his cum dripping past your inner thigh and soon after you finish as well.

He pulls away from you, and runs to the bathroom to get you a dry towel to help clean after you. 

“Sorry for the mess honey” you giggle and pull your dress for where it was before the horniness got the worse within you.

After returning to the rehearsal dinner and not a single person knowing about what just happened upstairs everything else went smoothly. You went downstairs for another bottle of wine, and soon after behind you, your ex followed you. 

After grabbing the bottle you jumped a little at the scare of the presence behind you.

“[name] May I have a word with you?” you nod, in a que for him to continue “I wanted you to know that” 

“You know, for many years I wondered why you broke up with me, and if it were me who was wrong but” he looked as if he was the one hurt, as if he wasn’t the one who made you miserable and not the other way around

“I’ve been a complete fool, i agree but there’s something you need to know” you’re confused by now

“Go on then” you don’t notice but there was Jimin following you both, since you’ve already took longer than expected 

“That summer where we grew apart, it was because…” he leaned closer, and you took a step back “I’m in love with your sister” you were flabbergasted by this surprise 

“What?” you ask, with a nod in your throat 

“At first it was only an adventure, something we promised it wouldn’t last…” you’re holding the bottle close to you, a sudden pain in your chest pinching you “But know I only feel a strong desire to be with her, for her not to” you slap him, stopping his words 

“Stop, you can’t be this selfish at this moment, my sister seems very fond of who you seem to think as a best friend, so you better not think for a second in hurting my family”

You step away, finding Jimin at the stairs and walk away from everyone leaving the bottle in your way.

Once outside Namjoon and Jimin were behind you.

Jimin rushed to hug you and your sister soon was near the commotion.

“You told her?” he was looking at Jimin and as confused as this has you, you soon understood what it meant. You took a step back.

“You knew?” he denies and tries to hold you “She told you and you didn't?...” 

“Sis, I didn’t want to…” everyone else at the party was next to you, seeing what the problem was and asking what was going on.

“She knows?” your cousin asked as she saw the tears streaming down your face

The betrayal of everyone around you soon came to your heart, you ran away while Jimin ran behind you, shouting your name as you ran as fast as you could.

He catch up to you, grabbing you by the arm 

“[name] please, wait” your eyes were puffy and full of tears

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you shout with the hurt full in your heart and eyes

“It wasn’t my secret to tell” you nod and hug him 

“I trusted them, i trusted everyone they must see me as a fool” he denies and embrace you in his arms 

“You didn’t deserve it, I know, and I must apologize to keep the secret but i knew that i wanted to protect you” you nod, trying to see past your pain and sorrow for this matter 

You return to the cabin, and sleep in Jimin’s arms when a knock on your door wakes you.

You stand up, and open, the night has already fallen and you could only notice Ava’s blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry sis” you try to close the door again “Please listen to me” you nod

“Go on” her eyes were puffy and the dry tears adorned her features 

“I never wanted this to blow up like this, i tried to tell you, several times”

“Trying is nothing worth for me Ava” she nods 

“I know, but you have to understand that i didn’t wanted to hurt you” you snort 

“Hurt me? or hurt the perfect lie you’ve been living? you know Ava i’ve always tolered that you did all of that before, kissing the boys i’ve told you I liked and stealing my ideas for a project, but i’m tired of that now” 

She cries and you closed your door 

“[name] please don’t talk to Jeremy about this matter” you open the door again 

“No, you’ll have to tell him, and you better tell him before you wed because he doesn’t deserve to marry a lie” she denies

“I’m not ready to…-” you raise your hand

“You better be, cause now that I know he’s going to know” she cries and you close the door for good 

“Are you sure you should do that?” Jimin asks, sitting on the bed, you nod, returning to him 

“Yes, he deserves the truth” she sighs

“You should be one to talk about honesty, didn’t you brought me here as a paid guest” you snort 

“Are you against me?” he chuckles

“I just mean that you’re not exhorted from all sins”

“Are you returning to your work after this?”  he denies and chuckles

“I don’t think I should” you sit next to him 

“You told me that you usually don’t attend weddings, why did you come?” he nods

“I take more funerals, parties but I try to exclude from weddings” you’re looking at his eyes

“Why 's that?”

“Weddings are more intimate and I tend not to intimate” you nod, agreeing “Funerals are all about accompany those who have lost someone, grieve can make you look for company” he sounds calm 

“And why did you accept my offer?” he chuckles 

“Something about your voice” you chuckle

“Desperation?” he snorts

“No, more like… hope” the two of you decided that it has been enough for the day, and tomorrow would be a long day.

The day of the wedding was finally upon you, as a maid of honor someone was hired to do your makeup and hair, since you kissed Jimin in the morning before your cousin came to steal you away, you haven’t heard or seen him.

“Why is it that you just know you seem to be in love?” your cousin asked 

You laugh to brush it off “You don’t know what you’re talking about”

While being ready and at the small church your gaze searches for the man that knows to hold your heart, by now your sister should be walking down the aisle but she’s nowhere to be seen.

Your mother reaches at where you are, whispers something and you look to where your sister fiance is standing, you know what could be happening.

Once you’re in the room where your sister should be, you find Namjoon kneeling in front of your sister.

“I didn’t thought i ever saw you do that” you greet sarcastically

“[Name]?” he stands and your sister is crying 

“Wait in the other room Namjoon” he does as told and leaves you two 

“[Name] please don’t tell him” you hug her, and she sighs at the warmth of your body

“I ain’t going to, but I believe you should come clean, before doing the marriage thing” she nods, understanding what you mean.

You call for Jeremy at the little room and leave them to it, they talk, your sister cries and you hope that the wedding finally goes along.

Jeremy gets out and sees Namjoon.

“Hey bud, stay calm would you?” his temple changes and Namjoon makes the run for it

Both are running, he’s shouting how a bad friend he is, and how could you do this to me.

Jimin hopped in the car and chased Jeremy and told him to hop in.

They drive and Jeremy asks “How can I do this now?” Jimin stops the car, and look his way

“She came clean with you, I believe that honesty is what keeps a marriage endure” he nods

“You’re a good therapist” Jimin chuckles 

“I believe I am”

They return and have an amazing wedding, the party went smoothly and for once, your life felt great and united.

Jimin and you after returning to New York have a first date, it wasn’t so perfect, but you knew you’ll get better after sharing that trip together, everything with him felt better and he loves to be your date for every occasion. 

[magicfootballstuff]

The Future is Ours - part 1 (ona batlle x reader)

Today might be the best day of your life.

Manchester United have just won the league. You’ve been the underdogs all season, all the debates in the media have been about which Manchester club would finish third, but the team defied all expectations, nicked points off Chelsea, City and Arsenal, and not only qualified for the Champions League for the first time, but beat Chelsea to the title on the last day of the season on goal difference.

It doesn’t yet feel real.

The whole team has been partying since the final whistle, starting with champagne on the pitch, then beers in the dressing room, and now the club has hired an exclusive bar set in the penthouse of one of Manchester’s fanciest skyscrapers.

You feel giddy and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the euphoria of winning.

There’s something missing - or rather someone. Ona told you she was just going to get a bit of air but you haven’t seen her in almost thirty minutes and you’re starting to worry, which is why you excuse yourself from the celebrations and go to look for her.

You eventually find Ona up on the roof, leaning on the railing as she looks out over the twinkling Manchester skyline.

“Hey,” you say, going to stand next to her and leaning on the railing too, covering one of her hands in yours.

Ona lets you tangle your fingers together but she’s weirdly quiet, staring out at the city with sadness in her eyes, and when you realise why she’s comes up here alone, your euphoria all disappears.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

Ona nods once in reply and you can see from the frown on her face that she’s struggling with the effort of not crying.

It’s no secret that Ona’s future has been uncertain for the last few months. She’s been tight-lipped with the press, with her teammates, with everybody except for you, but even you haven’t known exactly which way her decision would swing until now. You’ve talked about the pros and cons, the hypotheticals of turning your relationship long distance, the possibility that you might want to leave United someday too. The selfish part of you had hoped that winning the league would help, that a trophy and the promise of Champions League football next season might be enough to convince her. But you’ve also known that it’s always been her plan to return to Barcelona at some point. If she turns down the offer now, it might never come again.

You wrap an arm around her shoulder and pull her body against yours, pressing your lips to her forehead as you hear her sniffle.

“This has been the hardest decision I’ve ever made,” Ona says. “Even harder than when I left Spain to come to Manchester. This city is special. This team is special. I came to United to develop as a footballer but this place has really changed me.”

You smile to yourself when you remember the shy Spanish girl who first joined the team three years ago. She was quiet, a hard-worker on the pitch but hardly spoke any English and mostly kept herself to herself. You knew her for a full year before she started to open up and you got to know the real her, and then it was almost inevitable that you would fall head over heels in love with her. The fact that she loves you too is the greatest honour in the world.

You struggle to see what the future of Manchester United looks like without Ona. Sure, they’ll sign somebody new to replace her on the pitch, but there are very few people who embody what it means to be Manchester United as much as her. It’ll be a big gap that she leaves behind.

Still snuggled into your side, staring out at the city of Manchester, you feel Ona’s body shake slightly, but you quickly realise that she’s laughing not crying.

“What?” you ask.

“I had the really stupid idea that I was gonna propose to you tonight,” Ona says.

Your heart almost stops in your chest as you hear her words. You’ve talked about the future, especially since Ona has been weighing up her career goals, and while it’s been clear that you both see your relationship as endgame, you’ve both shied away slightly from discussing exactly what that would look like. It’s a bit of a surprise, though definitely not an unwelcome one, to hear Ona bring up the serious subject of marriage.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to,” Ona continues, maybe sensing your surprise. “Millie talked me out of it. Said I should probably try the long distance thing before I ask you to marry me.”

“That’s probably wise,” you agree, though you don’t want to imagine the possibility that it might not work out.

Ona pulls out of your embrace and says, “So instead of buying a ring I did something else stupid instead.”

Ona lifts up her shirt and turns to the side to show you her ribcage, where you can see the shadow of a small tattoo on her ribcage just below the band of her bra that wasn’t there before.

“When did you get that?” you ask Ona, wondering why you haven’t seen it before.

“A couple of days ago.”

“You got a rib tattoo two days before the game that could make or break our league?” you ask, racking your brains to figure out how she managed to keep this a secret when she not only lives with you, but also changes in and out of different sports kits multiple times a day in front of you.

“It’s been a bit sore, but not too bad,” Ona shrugs.

“Move into the light so I can see it,” you say, steering Ona with your hands on her hips until she’s standing under the green glow of a fire escape sign.

You bend to examine the tattoo. It’s a little abstract in design but you can see exactly what it is. A pronged trident with a handle that curves and swirls until it reaches an arrowhead like the point of a devil’s tail. There are some letters that you realise are Roman numerals - ‘II’ and ‘XVIII’ - and some numbers below that look like coordinates.

“Your shirt number and mine,” you say, looking up at Ona in awe. “What are the coordinates?”

“The training pitch at Carrington where I first met you,” Ona explains. “It’s not a ring, but it’s a promise that whatever team I play for, whatever country I live in, I’m yours.”

“It’s a bit more permanent than a ring,” you point out with a laugh.

“I love you,” Ona confesses with a shrug, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I want you to know that’s not going to change, even when I move to Barcelona.”

When she moves to Barcelona. Until now, it’s always been an ‘if’.

“When does the deal get finalised?” you ask.

“I fly out on Wednesday to sign the paperwork.“

“That’s really soon.”

“They won’t announce it to the media for a couple of weeks,” Ona says, pulling her top back down to cover the tattoo. “I’ll tell the team on Tuesday, let them have a couple of days to celebrate winning the league before I tell them. And we have the whole summer together before I move.”

And that’s when it really hits you. Ona is leaving. You have the summer together, but you’ll be away for the World Cup for half of that anyway, and before you know it you’ll both be back in pre-season training, for different clubs this time.

“You’re quiet,” Ona says, reaching for your hand. “Are you upset?”

“Of course I’m upset,” you admit. “I’m gutted. But I’ve also never been prouder. You’re gonna smash it in Barcelona. They’re very lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have you,” Ona says, swinging your joined hands between you and stepping closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“You’ve see the bar high though,” you say, grinning as you pull back from the kiss.

“What do you mean?” Ona frowns at you.

“Well if you’ve permanently inked your skin for this occasion, you’re gonna have to pull out something huge when you actually propose.”

“I’ll come up with something,” Ona promises you with a grin.

It’s the best day of your life and the worst all in one, but despite the difficult times to come in the future, there’s nobody you’d rather navigate that with than Ona.

———

continued in part 2

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Cities

I know Remus is technically a Cardiff boy, okay? But humour me and let me make him from tiny little Llanwrtyd Wells please??

Imagine living on the end of the earth.

Take that and combine it with the terrestrial rain every other day, and it’s Remus Lupin’s home. A small, hidden Welsh town called Llanwrtyd Wells.

Living in buttfuck nowhere meant that you knew everybody and everybody knew you.

Everybody.

When Remus had his first kiss, old ass Mrs Davies nudged him and said ‘well done’ the next day.

Still, it had its perks. Like not having to come out to his mum, because there were approximately two other gay guys in town, and while Osian wasn’t a bad kisser, he wasn’t quite prepared to date someone who went on and on about how much he loved his small town and basically didn’t say anything else. Also, the nights being quiet. If they happened to have a heatwave (once in a millennia) he could sleep with the window wide open, without worrying about cars speeding past, or getting robbed. Bar the few teenagers in Remus’ classes that liked to shoplift (until one of them got a slap around the head from Arwen for robbing her mum) or vandalise a building from time to time, people were too close for there to be much criminal activity.

It also meant that when Hope finally kicked Lyall out, there was no way he could stay in town. The people had made it clear that he wasn’t welcome back.

Yeah, Remus loved the town, and the people in it.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t excited when he got into Oxford on a full scholarship. A big fuck off English city and a prestigious ass university! Also, a chance to live in a big city, finally.

He wasn’t expecting to find the first 5 minutes so hard. The moment he got off the bus, he realised that in Oxford, people barged into each other without a sniff of an apology, just walking quickly through one another. Also, why was it so big? Remus could blink in the wrong place and he’d be lost! Eventually, he gave up on trying to navigate the overwhelming maze of buildings and roads, getting a ridiculously expensive Uber instead.

Checking in was stressful, getting his key and his ID and finding his flat was stressful.

He had an awful start to a city life.

Everything smelled like petrol fumes, he could hear the cars through the window, everything was grey. Remus had almost thought he had made a mistake.

The first perk of Oxford? His roommates.

James Potter was essentially a big ball of energy who somehow knew the city like the back of his hand, even though he wasn’t from Oxford, so he didn’t have to worry about getting lost. He would smile and talk and somehow make sure everybody felt included at the same time. He had stopped Remus from snapping at everybody and breaking down on his first day.

Peter Pettigrew was from a smaller town in Devon, Clovelly, so he and Remus had plenty of time to complain about the differences between towns and cities. Peter kept Remus sane, making him feel like he wasn’t really odd for not being able to sleep in the city, with all of it’s noise, or exchanging an amused glance at the fact that every building was identical.

Sirius Black was…

Sirius Black deserved an entirely separate perk dedicated to him.

He was the example of a hot Londoner. Christ, with his long, flowing black hair and silver eyes… Remus figured out very early on that he was falling for him, that much was obvious.

Still, he had never really been around someone he fancied before, not when he was falling so hard and fast. Tripping and stumbling from liking him to loving him before he had a chance to catch his balance. Honestly, the last thing he had expected was to fall in love with a Londoner who could sleep through aggressive evening construction, had a posh as shit accent and could look at a train map and just… understand it.

He was well and truly fucked.

Until he realised that Sirius got jealous when other people flirted with him. The revelation that came at the third perk of a big city: a lot of places to get drunk. As it turned out, Remus was the right kind of tall and broad shouldered to be considered desirable to city people. Specifically, to city men, which wasn't something that Remus was at all used to. He had never had to learn to put on a charm, a filter.

More specifically, he couldn't flirt to save his fucking life. That meant he essentially just had to stand and nod while guys talked at him.

Well, until Sirius swooped in one day and snogged him senseless in the middle of the dance floor in a gay club. Then he didn't have to worry about flirting, he was Sirius', nothing but Sirius'.

The city was the fucking best. Without the city, he wouldn't have met Sirius.

Still, his small town was perfect for making his city boyfriend visit over the summer. It was pretty much the highlight of his life.

Sirius was the perk of every city he was in.

[pieground]

RESURFACES

It's very clear you and Simeon love each other. A memory resurfaces in Lucifer.

➛ angst, little fluff

➛ takes place after mc (you) returns to the og timeline

The room is loud with cheers and laughter as you make your way to him with avid interest. There was a big smile on your face, eyes shining with enthusiasm, brighter than all the lights combined inside this room; looking lovelier than you've ever been. How can you not? You spent months trying to return to this timeline. Desperate to get back what you lost and do things better… do things you wanted to do but didn't.

It's been a few days since you came home and Diavolo insisted that a welcome party should be done for you and Solomon.

Everybody is eager to have a moment with you, occupying every second of your time—to which, you find yourself laughing. And then the doors cracked open silently, revealing the person you have been waiting all night for.

"Simeon." You uttered under your breath and bit your lower lip to prevent yourself from smiling only to fail. Simeon too has a beautiful smile etched on his lips, feet making their way towards you and halfway, his arms stretched. Not to prepare himself for a hug, but to reach you for it. And when you're at his reach, he wastes no time lifting you up in the air. His strength took you by surprise and when he started twirling you around, the two of you couldn't help but be filled with merry laughter that only halted when Simeon closed the distance between you and buried his face onto your shoulder.

"I was so worried." He spoke, voice slightly hoarse. "I thought I'm gonna lose you forever."

On the other side of the room, Lucifer drank silently. Eyes following yours and Simeon's movements, not missing the way your eyes widen in delight with something he said or the way you both held each other like it's the most natural thing. Lucifer didn't like it one bit. Not just because of jealousy, no. He's fine if you're happy with someone else, but he didn't expect that someone to be Simeon; his former brother, an angel who's way too tied up with the realm they once called home.

Sure, it's different this time with all the efforts being made to have that harmony between the three realms but what happened during the Great Celestial War remains a truth that is undeniable. Lucifer knew that you knew that, Simeon does as too— oh, so well. Lilith's death, the war, punishments, betrayal… all rooted from love. That twisted love his father made him believe that is all so great and good.

And he'll be damned to let that happen again.

His gloved hand tightened against his glass, gulping the red liquor down his throat, feeling that slight burn along the bitter aftertaste.

He needs to talk to Simeon. Now.

Solomon should talk to you too.

Leaving the empty glass in the bar, Lucifer stood up to approach the said angel only for a hand to sit him back down.

"Leave them be." Mammon squeezed the elder's shoulder, taking the seat beside him and pouring himself a glass. "At least for now... They just came back. Let's not make them feel like regretting ever coming back to us."

"Mammon." Lucifer called, not to threaten his brother but rather out of shock. He knew too well that out of all of his brothers, Mammon should be the one seething and desperate for you. But this Mammon was different, he was selfless. Too selfless for the avatar of greed.

But hasn't he always been this way?

Maybe not and Lucifer may not admit outright but he does respect the younger, so much… so much his heart hurt for him and you right now.

"Don't look at me like that, where's that cocky arrogant face of yours?" Mammon commented, for all the nonchalance he was trying to show, both demons can hear the sorrow in his voice. Needless to say, none of them pointed it out. After all, it's natural to seek of normalcy when everything is falling down.

"Pour some of that." He uttered. The younger complied right away, filling his glass halfway. His hand then went to twirl the red liquid, "I need to have a talk with Simeon… I can't let this happen, not when he's this strongly tied with the Celestial Realm. Diavo– " he cut himself, not wanting to sound like he was before, "Not like this when we're so close to attaining peace, we can't afford to."

"Is that really your reason, Lucifer?" Mammon questioned, leaning back to his seat and looking at the elder's face who held such a taut expression and watched it twisted into sorrow. "It won't kill us to be a little bit more honest, Lucifer. And didn't we promise before? Family problems need to be solved as a family."

"Only if you act responsibly all the time." He sighed, taking a swig of his drink and dropping his gaze to the wooden bar before shutting them tightly. "I'm scared he'll take them away from us the same way he did with Lilith… and all the chaos after that, if that happens, I'm afraid there will be nothing left for us."

This time, it was Mammon's turn to take a swig. Processing what Lucifer has confessed. In fact, he knew it already. After all, he knew him the best. Still, it was different hearing his older brother say it out loud, his own fear. There, the two of them sat in silence and in silence, his eyes naturally went to your figure.

There you are, happy in Simeon and Luke's company. He bit his tongue and tasted iron mixed with the bitterness of liquor. Much as it hurts him to admit, the three of you almost looked like a family. Something that he's been wishing to have with you for a long time. Alas, he thinks that a loser is forever a loser. It's just that this loss will never leave his mind ever.

"If it happens." Mammon repeated the elder's words. "It may sound stupid to you, but hear me, okay?" He faced him once again. "If that happens, I'll do everything to protect MC. I know the others will, too, without a doubt. And you should too… and protect their happiness too."

Lucifer let the younger's words sink in.

So he wanted to do things better this time… He wanted me to do things better this time.

"I don't want this, Lucifer." Another voice joined the two. None of them needed to look to see who it was. The voice is laced with deadly envy. Of course, Levi should be the one feeling most negatively of this, it's his sin.

"None of us do, buddy." Mammon uttered with a weak grin, nodding to him to take the seat beside Lucifer. "Now, you can't drink demonus because you start crying like a baby, and none of us want to deal with that right now, but there's grape juice in front of you."

"No, let him drink." Lucifer spoke, taking the two all of the sudden. A devious grin marked on his face and they could only gulp in fear. "Let him drink to his heart's content then let Simeon deal with him."

"You know what, if it is MC you're going to let take care of him, we're gonna have a problem." Mammon finished his glass before his eyes flashed with malice. "But since it's Simeon, Levi you should drink all these from the bottle." He shoved three bottles of alcohol towards the avatar of envy.

"I-I don't think I can finish this all!!" He gesticulated wildly in front of them, standing up from his seat to escape but same as Lucifer earlier, two hands sat him back in his seat.

"Drink all of that, Leviathan. I'm sure Simeon will appreciate it if I make him some good ol' meal once he gets tired of taking care of you." Solomon spoke merrily, eyes disappearing as he smiled menacingly.

"This won't end well." Levi uttered bleakly but everybody saw the way his eyes shone with confidence, as eager as the people around him.

Lucifer smiled to himself. At least, for now, they'll let Simeon know that they're pissed. Surely, you won't hate them for it right? Once more, Lucifer's gaze was drawn to you and Simeon. He sighs with resolve.

"Just make sure you are worth it, dear brother."

[beautifulpersonpeach]

I'm so full. I'm so happy. This is everything that I wanted for the tannies. It's so amazing. Never mind its 144p and I'm still learning the lyrics. I had such a blast! Jimin was so cute. Yoongi was so funny and cute and sexy and awesome and just,,, just,,, JUST!!! Couldn't stop grinning while watching their wlive and burst out laughing as Yoongi ended it so abruptly. lol Love you, Yoongi. Love them. Who's doing it like them? Have you seen the Tiffany crowd? Have you seen the concert crowd?!!?

***

It’s a different sort of high being a fan of BTS, isn’t it?

It’s a different sort of joy seeing them be their remarkable, awe-inspiring and goofy selves. It’s so beautiful to see the love they so clearly have for each other. It feels a little too intimate sometimes, and in my experience, this is a feeling that’s unique to BTS. This group is very special. What they’ve got feels genuine because it is.

Jimin was vibing hard. Yoongi’s performance felt electric from start to finish. They spent time together, [*]riding to the venue and leaving afterwards. Its clear as day that Yoongi is happy Jimin is with him, and Jimin wears the respect and love for his hyung on his face. It’s just so easy with them.

And can I just mention Yoongi’s energy during tonight’s concert?

The way he attacked HUH?!

AGUST D???

Christ.

It’s like he gets stronger, wilder, every concert… lol, like I suspected, he’s already a bit too good at this. I’m gonna need him to calm down before the Cali dates. And now that we know we’re getting Tony Montana at a future date, I think we’re all going to really learn to pace ourselves. This could get crazy before long.

Because we’re only three days in and I’m already hanging on by a thread.

What he’s doing to me with these performances cannot be written on the internet.

He fucks me up so bad y’all.

Let me go on a short tangent here:

STD is an acronym that’s known in Korea to mean what you think it means. Everybody knows it. Language isn’t a barrier in this case. When people in Korea hear “STD”? They know what it’s referring to.

Now, what do you think about the way Yoongi introduced his alternate persona: AGUST D in 2016? The way he enunciates that phrase is sickening and intentional. The very mention of his name in the mouths of his detractors is a sickness they get from him fucking them. Or ‘fat dicking’ them, to quote Yoongi. And on that song he spits one of the sickest bars of his entire career. You’re guaranteed to be fucked just by hearing it. I mean just in his name there’s already triple entendres.

It’s mad.

Yoongi has a very peculiar energy. It’s very catlike, but also serpentine and there’s an undercurrent of barely restrained lunacy deep beneath the surface. Hobi is actually more crude than Yoongi in speech and flow, but Yoongi can be so cruel. And that quality, one he doesn’t shy from turning on himself too, coupled with his pragmatic and caustic delivery… lord. He sets himself apart from every other artist alive. Nobody in BTS cuts to the bullshit faster than Yoongi - he’s lived through the consequences of deluding yourself that you’re okay when you’re not. He’s a man who is constantly examining himself, checking his worst tendencies, but never compromising on what he truly believes.

Ugh.

Times like tonight, I look at BTS and feel so much calm. They are so competent, and I’m certain whatever they make, it will be very good. Yoongi has proven that so far with this tour. Yoongi’s D-DAY concert tour is easily the best solo concerts I’ve been to this decade, and I haven’t even attended one yet. But it’s easily the best one. Easily. And I’ve been to a lot (actually been to them), especially in the last 12 months.

That crowd Jimin pulled for the Tiffany’s event is no joke. We’re now at the point where Western celerities know they’re not the main popularity driver if Jimin is also involved. They know the crowds are there for Jimin. And when he eventually showed up, he looked magnificent. Elegant. Polished. Understated. One of these days I want to see Jimin bejewelled and dressed in all primary colours - something more vibrant and queer. But that Tiffany’s event went for traditional and understated and that’s okay. It worked, because Jimin can work anything.

**

Edit [*]: Typo correction. Should include "after", meaning after arriving at and leaving the concert, Yoongi and Jimin spent time together. They arrived separately and left together, spent time together also before and after.

[alastors-left-lapel]

We've Found Ourselves In Quite A Situation

Author's Cut: Hello all! It's been nearly two years since I've written on Tumblr. I have recently been enthralled with the verse of Vivziepop and her amazing creations of Helluva Boss and Hazbin hotel. This is my first story with the characters of Hazbin Hotel, and I could have very well not written them within character. Please let me know if you love it, hate, or if I should delete. The following story contains Trigger warnings: child loss, mental trauma, use of weapons, death (electroshock therapy), Reader has OCD, (i think thats it?) Plot: AFAB reader works at the hotel for Alastor as the receptionist. We see her interacting with a couple of the hotels residents. She ends up having breakfast with Alastor who has just a few questions about her that he needs to know. This is not implied Alastor/Y/n. word count: 2.6k+

Part 2

Another shitty day in Hell, as to nobody's surprise, except for maybe the Princess of course. Sinners could be heard out on the streets yelling at others, weapons were firing, and the stench of smoke and blood flowed through the open window of the room. The woman rolled her eyes, getting up from her seat to close the window. As she looked out the panes she could see some of the sinners chasing others around and targeting their current enemies. She smirked a little enjoying watching the chaos that was unfolding outside. As long as they kept their war and devastation away from the hotel, she would happily ignore the chaos outside.

Turning away from the window to walk back to the reception area of the hotel, the woman held her hands behind her back, with a faint smile on her face. She looked down, noticing her necklace chain had spun around again. She pinched the clasp in one hand and pinched the adornment in the other, pulling the chain back around to the nape of her neck, then resting the charm down at the lowest part of the chain. Nifty had scurried by her with a rather large sewing needle in hand as she chased after some type of bug. Her chattering calling to the bug was rather funny to the woman, knowing poor little Nifty was the best person for the job.

"You know, if they touch even the smallest piece of the marquee, Alastor will destroy them all." came the rather husk voice of its owner, Husk.

She nodded, grabbing her coffee mug from her work station. "I'm counting on it at this point. It would be more entertaining than what those dimwits are currently doing." She took a quick sip from her mug, then held it between her hands as the tea filled her stomach. She walked over to the bar where the other sinner had been standing, watching as he cleaned the classes for what seemed to be the seventh time this morning. "Seriously Husk, we need to find you a new hobby. Those glasses are almost clear enough to see the bullshit that Angel tells everyone."

"Very funny, Sparky." Came the near shrill voice of Angel Dust. He sauntered over to the bar, sitting in his favorite seat. "Don't you have somebody to check in to this shit hole?"

The woman chuckled a little at his comments. "I would if there was someone standing at my desk." She set her mug down on the bar top, pondering her next sentence. "Charlie has been bummed out the past couple of days. I mean, technically Angel and Sir Pentious are the hotels' two only checked-in guests. Everybody else here works at the hotel, either for Charlie or Alastor. Though, most of us are here on Alastor's request."

Husk put a glass down on the bartop, making a little clinking sound. "I know you are, but let's be clear here. I'm not here by anybody's orders."

"I didn't say you... or who." She replied, looking at him a little puzzled.

Husk took a moment to reflect on what he had heard and what he said. He then groaned picking up a new glass to polish again as he mumbled under his breath.

Angel spoke up, interrupting the silence. "Are you suggesting you have a plan to bring in new sinners to the hotel? Do you need me to do some advertising? I know a couple of corners that might get you some business. Besides, the busier you are, the less I have to see you pestering me during my morning drink."

The woman rolled her eyes again, spinning in her chair and getting out of the chair. "I can see where I'm not wanted. Don't call the lobby phone the next time you are out of toilet paper. Nobody will be around to answer it." She took her mug with her as she made her way back to her desk, located near the front door but still within eye sight of the bar. She slipped her hands under her as she sat down, not wanting to press any creases into her skirt. She crossed her legs as she looked down at her record books, making sure the two guest rooms had been taken care of for the day. Nifty was usually cleaning all of the rooms before Y/N could ask her to. She even kept the unoccupied ones. Well, all seemed to be in order on her end.

That was until there was an explosion outside of the hotel, causing some windows to shatter and some debris landing in the lobby. She sighed, standing up to see the damage of what had happened. She made her way out of the front doors of the lobby, seeing what appeared to be some loan sharks standing in the hotel driveway fighting with a rival gang. "I'm going to give you great white wannabes two seconds to move this scrape to the road."

One of the sharks who had stopped firing his gun when she came out looked at her, pausing for a moment before breaking out into laughter with the others in both gangs. He wiped a tear that came to his face before speaking. "Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it, sugar?"

The woman started to grow a little furious, but the sensation of a familiar being filled the air around her. She could see the looming shadow standing behind the two gangs, the sinister smile on its face was somehow welcoming to her. "Oh, I'm not going to do anything about it, but my friend here will. I'm sure you've all heard of The Radio Demon, yes?"

She took a couple of steps back as a twisted demonic sounding deer noise echoed through the air, the sounds bouncing off the walls and windows of the hotel. Black tendrils with a glowing green light made light work of some of the sharks. Y/N watched as some of the sinners were thrown to the ground or through the air. She adjusted the sleeves and cuffs of her shirt seeing the buttons were just slightly off from where they should have been resting. She was overdue for a visit to the tailor some restitching of her cuff sleeves, an odd thought to have while watching the true devastation in front of her.

After a few moments, the giant deer-appearing creature shrunk down to its natural form. The man dusted off his coat, grasping his cane as he approached the woman. "Excellent showmanship, my dear. Next time, please remain in the lobby. I can't risk our receptionist to the bewilderment of the vile life forms of Pentagram City."

"Oh, Alastor, please. You forget I've seen worse demons than them before." It had been true though. Y/N and Alastor had been acquainted for nearly eighty years now. Y/N had arrived in Hell nearly a decade after Alastor's arrival, and he was still a powerful demon then. "You act as if I haven't caused some trouble in the past either."

Alastor looked down at the girl, tilting his head to the side. Radio static sounds could be heard. "Do I need to remind you how you got out of that mess?"

She shook her head, her smile defaulting to a smirk for a brief moment. "I was ensuring nothing else happened to the hotel. It's the third time this month that window needed to be replaced."

Al looked up, gauging the size of the window. "A quick and easy fix. The hotel is my passion project, by association. It must remain perfect as it reflects my own personal works." With a snap of his finger, a group of shadow minions were summoned with building supplies and a new window. They were quick to rush into the hotel as Nifty could be heard cleaning up the broken glass.

The woman nodded simply, resting her hands on her sides. "Thank you, Alastor. I think your hunting session has brought a cease-fire around the hotel." She pointed to the road as sinners scrambled together to leave the area, more than likely in search of a new battleground.

"It would appear so," he commented as he watched them scurry along in cars or on their feet. He turned around to look at her. "This brush with the unremarkable gangs of Hell has left me indescribably famished."

"Shall I send for breakfast to your room, sir?" she asked, ready to prepare his food as he liked.

"No need for that. I have a reservation for two at the Butcher's Room. You are coming with me." He offered his arm out to her.

She looked a little puzzled at him. "I should really be at the receptionist desk in case a sinner wants to sign up for Charlie's program." It was her only job in Hell at the moment, and these days it was one of the few things that convinced her to get out of bed.

Alastor narrowed one eyebrow at her. "It wasn't a request, dear."

She nodded, knowing it was better to agree with Al than it was to fight him, both mentally and physically. She took his arm before the pair walked down the driveway of the hotel toward Canibal Town. They both started out as residents of Canibal Town, meeting through mutual connections. Rosie had taken Y/N under her wings when she first joined Hell, making sure she understood the groundwork of Hell and how everything worked. Y/N was still good friends with Rosie, having tea times twice a month, discussing the new things going on in their lives or their past brushes with the exorcists. Rosie reminded Y/N of her older sister, making sure her favorite people had been taken care of or were often checked in on.

The same could be said about Alastor. From what Y/N understood about Alastor was that on Earth he had a radio program in New Orleans, and he was also a serial killer. She never dared to ask him more about his personal life, knowing he was pretty private about it anyway. Y/N had told Alastor details about her life as he asked, but the manner of her death was still a mystery to him. Something he planned on discovering today.

After a while of walking around, the two walked to the front doors of the Butcher's Room. Alastor had checked them in, being shown to a private table. There had been some families around who turned away when Al walked by. His demeanor was stoic as ever, his signature smile painted on his face. She often wondered if his face hurt while smiling as much as he did. She brushed off the thoughts as the two sat down at the table.

Alastor placed a napkin in his lap, setting his cane against the table. "I don't mean to overhear the conversations of the hotel guests and staff. However, I couldn't help but to notice a little tension between you and grumpy bartender and spider boy. Is there anything I can do about that?"

Y/N had nearly forgotten about the conversation until Alastor brought it up. "Oh, that was nothing. I believe they were both hungover and their booze filled woes were on autopilot. Besides, Angel was called on by Valentino. When Valentino calls, Angel has to go. It's a part of his deal."

Alastor nodded a little, understanding the situation with Angel. "I believed he called you a name that may have set off some sort of flight response. Sparky, was it?"

She bit the inside of her cheek, realizing this breakfast wasn't just for the sake of being friends. She took in a deep breath, setting her napkin in her lap before making eye contact with him again. "I don't know how he found out about that unless I was dreaming about it and he heard." Her gaze shifted to the glasses, seeing the water that was in them was slightly off from the other. "What do you want to know?"

Alastor was confused, though his facial expressions appeared pleasing in nature. "I just want to know how you died. Most people boast about it down here, and you are one of the few I have met who has never shared their last days on Earth. Come now, dear. We have known each other for what? Eighty years now? I thought we had built up some trust here."

Y/N nodded, knowing that Alastor would find out, some how or some way. "It was 1943. I was married and had one child with my husband, a girl. He was upset that his first child was a girl, wanting to have a son to name after himself and make into his carbon copy. I gave birth to our second child, a son. He was perfect. In fact, he was so perfect that he was only alive for five minutes." The memory was so hard to reflect on because of the trauma it caused her. "When we went back home, I went into a frenzy. I found everything in the house was wrong. The hardwood in the living room was a slightly darker stain than the hardwood in the dining room. The door didn't sound like it was shut until the sixth time I closed it. My daughter's dress sleeves were uneven by three fourth's of an inch. I had to fix it."

Alastor watched her, observing her body language and listening to her story. He needed to know why she ended up in Hell. What made her a sinner? How did she die?

"My husband had me admitted to a sanitorium in Missouri, telling the doctors I had gone mad. This was only a week after I had my son, who was not allowed to have a name because his father was angry with me. He said I killed our son. Which only caused me more stress, which is something I only learned down here speaking to other sinners." It had been a lifetime ago, quite literally. "Anyways, back on track. The doctors put me into different forms of therapy. One of them being electroshock therapy. They had a student doctor perform the test on me without any type of supervision. The moron had the dial set to the highest voltage setting. I died maybe ten or fifteen seconds into the session, however, it lasted for nearly three minutes before he noticed." Her shoulders had slumped some, feeling the crushing weight of her death all over again.

Alastor observed her. With a story like that he knew it had to be true. Who else could spill the tale and not be as visibly bothered by the retelling of their downfall? He cleared his throat, "That is terribly tragic. I'm sorry what had happened." It still didn't explain why she was down in Hell. But maybe it would be a question to ask later. Two plates of food had been dropped off before the guests. Alastors had cooked eggs and deer steak. Y/N had eggs and liver.

She smiled again, taking Alastor's advise to smile as often as she could. "Thank you, though I don't need your sympathy. It freed me from the pain I had lived with for all but two weeks." She picked up her utensils at the same time he did. "In regard to our contract, I just simply request nobody else finds out about it."

Alastor cut a piece of the deer stake, smiling at her. "You wound me, Y/N. Anything said in private with me shall remain the same until the end of time."

She looked at him, hoping the statement was true. That's what happens when you trade your soul to a demon overlord, giving them anything they want in the hopes they don't exploit you for it. "Thank you, Al."

[thegeminisage]

it's time for!!! a ds9 update <3 wow <333 last night we watched "past prologue" and "a man alone."

past prologue:

FIRST OF ALL, THAT LITTLE GAY DOCTOR

idk what i expected but the scene i've seen gifs of was the VERY FIRST ONE right out of the gate. i was so thrilled. for some reason garak is WAY different than i expected. like, he's just as gay, of COURSE, but for some reason i expected him to be like...meaner. and instead he's sooooo friendly and he's also a fucking tailor. julian bashir needs a new fucking suit.

that said, bashir is so slow on the uptake literally all of the time. the suit thing and something in the other episode that i forgot. king how can you be a doctor when you are so stupid...not that i'm complaining. i wouldn't change it for anything. he's so funny.

HILARIOUS that immediately after he has any clandestine conversations w garak he has to IMMEDIATELY run to the "bridge" and tell everybody about it. he gets so excited. he really is hilarious i don't think he's done a single thing so far that wasn't funny. the fact that he was late to this little party also sir get it together

i think this ep had excellent character stuff for kira, who we've only known 5 minutes. it sets up her history and her current position so well, and her conflict of interests is such a real and tangible thing that i felt awful for her. like you knew from the beginning that guy was gonna betray her but OUCH. ending the ep on her getting called a traitor was Such a choice.

i also loved her little scene with odo..."i don't do pretense" alright autism king. and yet he talked her through it and then sort of took the decision out of her hands at the end (which was a very compassionate thing to do) when it became clear what most of her wanted to do...he's like. a really good person actually 🥺

HE TURNED HIMSELF INTO A RAT.......i love getting shocked when random objects turn out to be odo. i love playing this game. also, there was totally a leaky pipe in that scene too. ds9 feels so fucking lived in...you'd never have those on tng.

i also think sisko did a good job threading the needle here, even if kira had to go over his head to get him to see reason. you gotta do what you gotta do but he was mostly compassionate to kira's dilemma and even let her take point when she requested it...AND THEN LOL smiled while threatening her if she ever went over his head again. WHICH IS WHAT KIRA DOES. SMILES WHEN ANGRY. it was really good. i like him so much

it was such a nice touch to add o'brien telling him not to hand that guy over to the cardassians. the implication being that he was in the room when picard was transported back to the enterprise post-torture which like of COURSE he was. i don't think him outlining in detail picard's torture by those guys would have swayed sisko's opinion much because it's picard so it was also smart that he didn't go into particulars. but it does hammer home that what the cardassians do to people is real to the bajorans and to o'brien in a way that it is not (yet?) real to sisko.

KLINGON SISTERS. when they first appeared i was like "holy shit those boob windows" even though i didn't recognize their faces at all. i recognized only the boob windows. then when they said their names i was like I KNEW IT. what a funny little throwback

side bar i also love that they call the station itself ds9. they don't say deep space nine they say ds9 just like we do

a man alone:

holy racially motivated hate crimes, batman

wait sorry actually let me start at the beginning. the first scene with julian getting shot down 1000 times by jadzia (or are we supposed to call her dax...) was really funny. i'm trying to figure out in my mind palace if he's a bi king or a gay-but-closeted king.

also, so much happened in this episode. there was an a plot a b plot AND a c plot but instead of feeling rushed it just felt comfortably chaotic. i was never waiting for one plot to be over so we could get to the one that really mattered, you know? i liked everything that was going on except for the lack of garak i want him to be in every episode so bad

i like everything jadzia had going on this ep...like, people react to her different as a super hot lady than they did as an old man. sisko's talk about fucking the twins was especially hilarious. dude you can still fuck twins with her if you wanted. but the way that like 3 different people had romantic tension with her and she's just out here to do her job AND ALSO is like "i try to rise above all that" so true aroace queen. although i do actually know she has a romantic plotline with worf (who should be fucking riker and deanna) and also that *** ****, which sucks a lot.

i liked keiko getting an actual plotline in this episode. like this place didn't even have a bed for jake when sisko got here, of course she doesn't wanna raise her daughter there, and of course she's bummed out that her field of expertise is fucking useless there, although i agree w her husband that somebody needs to plant some fucking trees. i do disagree with her that it's less safe than the enterprise, though...that ship almost blows up every fucking week. anyway the fact that sisko was ready to give her whatever she needed was very nice. please treat her really niceys. side bar her baby is AODRABLE that child wanted her hands on that little bell soooo bad

speaking of jake!! it was nice to see him again. i like that when he gets in trouble his dad is obviously pissed without it being like a Problem. like he's pissed and jake is in trouble and sisko is gonna lay down the law but it's not a relationship-threatening issue. it was harmless teenage fun.

unfortunately sisko did kinda carry the idiot ball for the rest of this ep...i feel like there were so many choices he could have made to maybe NOT put a giant target on odo's back and it also took him a lot longer than i would have liked to step in once the mob started going, but he did step in, so that's what matters.

i loved odo in this episode!! he's just as angry as kira is in his own way, and his relationship with both her and quark (WOWWW more on that in a sec) feel so lived in, you can feel the years between them...it's also just now apparent to me that he's actually really protective, which, aw. i love also the lore that every 18 hours he has to just exist as goop in a pail. so true king me too

odo also aroace king he simply chooses not to couple. so true. that said whatever he and quark had going on was FUNNN i love a little sexual tension in my star trek. is he aroace or is he gay for that little ferengi. only time will tell.

on a more serious note odo's quarters getting hate crimed really drives home how set apart he is from others...and the mob section was GENUINELY scary. and he's so protective it was a little sad that kira was the only one really standing up for him :(

I NEARLY FORGOT TO ADD: julian bashir straight up growing a guy in a bubbly goopy little vat just to catch a killer? insane. thats a whole ass person who is about to be part of society who exists "just because." imagine the existential issues lmao

TONIGHT: "babel" and "captive pursuit." technically after babel we're supposed to watch "ship in a bottle" from tng, but i've been informed it's a barclay episode which means i will be watching it myself later tonight on 2x speed. it's not the first time we've fucked with the order a little bit lol (i was famously late finishing tas) so i still count it as mostly watching in release order