#and I tried so hard to make sure that our party would BALANCE

[randomhatthief]

Fuck it I’m being mad about my character in public because doing it privately isn’t doing it for me.

I’ve got this oath of devotion paladin, right? born and raised in a temple, from a militaristic society, who found and resurrected an ancient sun deity. He is/was fully meant to be a Jesian figure for this reawakened god and the derivative cults that have popped up in the intervening centuries and THAT is going well, actually. We’re play curse of strahd, so we’re stuck in Barovia and it’s miserable and sad but there are plenty of opportunities for MY sunboi to bond with the local priests sunbois and reawaken faith in the public as we work forward through the Actual Module Stuff. I am genuinely having a great time with that, it’s fantastic to be so included in the Plot. (thank you for my life, miss dm, ily) But the ISSUE I’m having is with my plan for Character Conflict. I wasn’t THINKING when I made him that my actual friendships dissolving and that other pc’s might have full alignment-flipping mental breakdowns (v cool tho, I am loving watching her lose herself to the mounting trauma) beCAUSE I intended for his personal growth to be about Doubting Himself and Finding Himself As He Was Always Meant To Be (with heavy religious overtones) but!!!! Those elements don’t WORK if he’s in the corner crying other having to kill innocent people and mercy killing an ANGEL with only the NPCs to comfort him, y’know?  It doesn’t work because the dm can’t be the only person to interact with me, but if the party isn’t going to actually comment or comfort him or even Take Note of the Breakdown, then I’m just babbling to myself and he can have these revelations silently. Like it’s wonderful to talk to all the NPCs and have emotional moments with them, playing across from my bestie, but it’s not Going Well with the rest of us.  Lemme lay the scene: Imrath (Dragonborn, Paladin, my PC) is closest with Wixen (Dusk Elf, Barbarian/Cleric, Shifter, Glen’s PC) but Wixen has an active curse on her soul that switched her from Good to Evil, so she is being appropriately cagey and chaotic about who and what she cares about. It’s sad, but in character, and they talk about it often enough to stay friends.

Now, we have a new player, who I do like very much but don’t know well. Rest assured none of these comments are about them.  BUT ASH (Fire Genasi, Rogue, F’s PC) man I’m so disappointed. Not in the character. The CHARACTER is delightful and has depth and drama and would make such a FUN foil for Imrath to learn from and bounce off of as he moves from Lawful Good to Lawful Neutral but my FRIEND. My friend is not INTERESTED in the game anymore. They don’t talk, don’t get to know any NPCs, don’t even really bullshit with us anymore and it’s fuckin affecting me man. 

I just. I’m really disappointed. And maybe I need to modify my own characters goals to be more independent but I already chose my class last, chose paladin to balance our party (and to fight the Fucking Vampires), keep the notes for the game, do a LOT of the chatting, and make efforts not to derail the game too badly and I’m TIRED of my beloved character being pigeon-holed into the role of a charismatic diplomatic public speaker when he is MEANT to be niave, affectionate city boy fresh out of a military tin can.

[prismuffin]

Idk why this is so funny to me, but how would the Batfam react to Tim Drake making a contract with a demon Male reader?

Like a part of the demon contract deals, is neither party demon nor the human can say what the contract is. So the batfam has no context what, so why is the demon there and follows around Tim.

Batman ofc dragged a favour out of Constantine, and John explains that many contracts have one rule that the contract can be told to others, of what it is. But he can give them info of the demon, which Male Reader is a demon that rules over psychology and secrets.

So when Tim is doing another "all-nighter" (it's going on 29 hours of being a wake), the batfam notices the demon getting agitated watching Tim and speaks 'Do you remember the rules of our contract?' , Tim sighing in stubbornness says 'Yes, but I'm almost done with this breakthrough'.

After one more hour, Demon Reader gets up and taps Tim's shoulder and possesses him. Immediately saving his work, and begins doing all of the self-care tasks Tim's been putting off. Like dumping out his coffee, and drinking water, taking a shower, eating a balanced meal and doing his laundry. While Tim's mind is asleep in his subconscious.

Ooooo I kinda like this idea ok soooo I think that-

At first glance everyone is definitely thrown off by your presence. Why in the world would Tim do something like this out of nowhere? Damian is just intrigued and curious, mostly asking you questions that you promptly ignore. Dick, and Jason are immediately concerned, throwing out question after question about why Tim would do this but he never tells them. So the first thing they do is run to Bruce who just goes to John to see if he has any information on the type of demon you are. John does his little investigation on you and immediately recognizes you as a type of psychological demon, so he tells them not to worry about it too much. That doesn't stop them from being warry about you as you follow Tim around. They'd try to make idle chatter here and there but you'd always respond quickly, being too focused on Tim to really care about anyone else. It made it hard to build trust with you so they were never 100% sure you wouldn't cause any harm to Tim. Until one day at least.

Of course there came a time where Tim refused to sleep as he worked on his latest breakthrough. The others had tried to get him to away from his lab and into a bed or at the very least the kitchen to eat a meal but it was no use, until you that is. Around the 29th hour of Tim's all-nighter the others had heard some commotion from his lab. Going to check it out they found you nagging him to take a break and rest while reminding him about the rules of your covert contract. When he'd ignored you one last time you took matters into your own hands, possessing Tim and forcing him to get up and take care of himself. The others were definitely freaked out until they noticed you simply cleaning up his desk before moving to the bathroom where you made sure his teeth were brushed and his face was washed. You'd made him take a shower, eat, hydrate, and all in all just did menial tasks for him, making sure he was taken care of. It boggled everyone's minds somewhat but it sort of confirmed Johns suspicions that you wouldn't be a threat to anyone, let alone Tim.

———

Directory

[bluetorchsky]

Happy Birthday, Aurelia and Florence!

Violin hummed softly as he placed the stacks of books he was carrying onto the floor. “I’m glad everyone could join us. I’m sure the kids will remember this one day.” He said as he joined his husband sitting on the floor.

Accordion chuckled and leaned his head against Violin’s. “Well, it won’t be hard since Zar and Zephyr took a lot of photos. Just gotta wait to get them developed so we can make an album.” He sighed deeply. “One year already, huh…”

The husbands looked back to their children, who were happily pushing a stripped ball back and forth between each other. Violin smiled but he paused when he saw how his partner looked. “Luv, are you okay? You seem…thoughtful.”

Accordion sighed again and lifted his head up, looking at him. “It’s just…they used to fit so snug in our arms but now they’ve gotten bigger–”

“And heavier.” Violin joked with a smile.

The other man frowned, but his eyes crinkled up into a smile at that. He continued on, leaning back where he sat. “That too. But it’s only been a year since we’ve had them.”The stripped ball rolled over to the parents and Accordion stopped it before it went any further. “They’re growing up so fast, and I…I…

Accordion trailed off and his eyes widened. “Trent, look.” He whispered, grasping his hand tightly as he did. “Look, look!”

Violin blinked in confusion as he followed his gaze. “Ollie, what are you-Ohhhh…”

Usually, the kids would have crawled over to their dads in order to retrieve one of their toys when it got away from them. However, Aurelia and Florence didn’t do that now. They had done a lot of crawling around during their birthday party. They wanted to do something different.

Slowly, each of the twins grabbed some sort of ledge. Aurelia grabbed the counter of a coffee table, and Florence grabbed the ledge of a footstool. With a look of determination in their tiny, bright shining eyes, they started to lift themselves to their feet on their shaky legs. The dads watched with bated breath, hoping to see their kids take their first steps.

But it looked as if it wasn’t meant to be. Just after a few seconds of standing, both of them fell back on their butts, on the carpeted floor. Aurelia sniffled loudly and hit her legs with her tiny fists, close to throwing her second tantrum of the day, while Florence looked down at floor with a very sad look, also sniffling.

“Oh, my dears. It’s okay.” Accordion said softly as he reached out to Aurelia. “You must be very tired after today.”

But when he moved closer, she pushed away his outreached hand with a huff. The action shocked him in place. “A-Aurelia?”

She made some noises before she grasped the ledge of the coffee table once again. Before she pulled herself up, she looked over to her brother. To the shock of the dads, Florence had managed to push the footstool closer to the coffee table. He crawled around it to be next to his sister, and said something to her with a smile. Her frown instantly changed into a smile, and she and Florence tried again to stand up.

This time, they managed to stand up long enough so they could grab each other’s hand. Holding onto their respective ledge, the twins tested their footing before they stood still, looking at the floor. Then, they looked up at their dads and smiled widely, giggling as they did.

“Da-Da! Pa-pa!” They cried out together before they both took one step together, pushing away from their support. With only their free hand to balance each other, the twins repeatedly called out for their dads as they carefully took one shaky step after the other, all while holding each other’s hand tightly. Just like their dads.

“T-That’s it, that’s it!” Accordion cheered, tears escaping his eyes. “You can do it, both of you can do it!” He had let go of his husband’s hand to bring his own hands up to cheer for his kids. “Trent, are you seeing this?”

Violin had his mouth covered with one hand, but his other hand gripped his husband’s shoulder tightly in answer. “I am, Ollie…” He whispered as he wiped away the tears slipping from his eyes. “This is amazing…”

Just as they got closer to their dads, the twins stumbled and almost lost their balance. But they each steadied themselves, with Aurelia having a very strong grip to her brother’s hand. After a few seconds, the twins continued walking forward until they collapsed onto their dads’ laps, giggling and laughing.

Their dads laughed along with them, picking them up into their arms and holding them close. “You did it! Both of you did it!” Violin cheered as he smothered Aurelia in kisses, making her shriek happily. “Ohh, what a wonderful way to end the day! Wait until everyone sees you walking all by yourselves!”

Accordion hummed a small melody, sniffling. “Our little music notes, you never fail to amaze us.” He whispered to them, kissing the top of Florence’s head, making him giggle. “Please, don’t grow up too fast…Otherwise, we won’t be able to see all the amazing things you do.”

Each baby babbled and giggled, getting drool down their chins and into their dads’ shirts as they snuggled in close to them. Their dads just smiled and leaned closer to each other, pressing their heads together as they sang a small lullaby for them. The twins struggled to keep their eyes open but once they each let out a big yawn, they closed their eyes and settled into their dads’ arms.

Carefully, Accordion and Violin stood up and took their children back to their crib, feeling a moment of pride for their twins and for themselves.

“We love you both so much.” They whispered to them, gently rocking them in their arms. “To the ends of the worlds and back, we love you both very much.”

——————

Happy birthday to the twins! I was a bit unsure how to end it off but there ya go. Somehow I managed to get this done before today admist everything going on in my life. I really do hope to find time to do the things I want to do soon, especially getting back into drawing and writing.

Full pic under the cut! Also, mentions of Zar belongs to @zerguette (Zar is gonna be SO happy to see them walk hehe!)

[velvetandcandles]

“Just a little tipsy.” pt 1

Anime: Jujutsu kaisen 呪術廻戦

Character(s): Toji Fushiguro 伏黒甚爾

Summary: Reader comes home drunk and clumsy after celebrating her friends birthday party and Toji decides to help her settle down.

🌊🌀💦🔹

6:29pm

The silence of your empty home was abruptly interrupted by the front door swinging open with you stumbling your way inside. The sound of your keys jingled in your hand and your heels clacked against the floor while you tried to find something to support your poor balance. You managed to kick the door shut with the back of your heel before it could fully open, letting your keychain fall out of your hand and onto the floor. “Shit,” you cursed under your breath. Trying to collect yourself was useless - the alcohol had fully taken its toll on you at this point.

You tried your best to remember how much you drank at your best friend’s birthday party, but gave up as your head was way too static to even process anything. Since your boyfriend, Toji, was still out, you thought you’d try to get unready and be fast sleep by the time he got home. You had forgotten to mention anything to him and just knew you wouldn’t have the energy to explain everything later on.

You would have been able to tell him if he didn’t beat you to leaving the house.

You sighed before attempting to take a step toward the bathroom, only for your hands and knees to meet the cold hard floor with a loud thud. Your eyes squinted and you pursed your lips trying to ignore the pain and decided it’d be best to crawl your way there.

:::

The night before…

It was 10:42pm and you sat comfortably with your legs folded across the couch, mindlessly scrolling on your laptop while speaking with your long-time best friend on the line. Toji was fast asleep in the bedroom, and you didn’t want to wake him.

“..I don’t want to see you dressed like your boyfriend, y’know.” Your friend laughed. “There’s gonna be lots of people, alright? So I want you to come looking prettier than ever.”

You paused to think of anything in your closet that would be appropriate to wear. It’s been a while since you’ve went to any large events or parties. You thought that those days were over, honestly. Thinking of every piece of cloth that you owned, it made you realize how much you’ve adapted Toji’s style. She was right.

“I just don’t know what to wear.” You said.

“If you don’t have anything sexy to wear, I can let you borrow one of my dresses. I’ll do your hair too, if need be. Do you like makeup?”

“No, no, it’s alright. You don’t have to worry about me. You’re the birthday girl after all so- just focus on getting yourself prepar-“

“Nope!! You’re coming and I’m not going to let you ruin our group photos. I’ll be picking you up tomorrow morning and we can get ready together!”

That was the last of the exchange before you heard a click and the sound of ringing in your ear.

Then, a text notification popped up at the top of your phone.

‘btw your boyfriend can come if he wants✌️’

::::

After what felt like years of dragging yourself, you finally made your way to the entrance of the bathroom. Just as you were about to lift yourself to reach for the light, the switch had already been flicked on, revealing not only you, but the person who had been there the entire time.

“..you alright..?” Toji asked, visible concern on his face. “And where have you been all day?”

It sent your heart into your stomach as you weren’t expecting him to be there. He stood behind you, waiting for an answer. You slowly turned yourself around and slumped yourself against the doorway, feeling defeated. He wasn’t sure if he should be worried or if he should laugh at how stupid you look. You thought you had gotten used to him sneaking up on you like this and was proven wrong in an instant. He makes it impossible for you to be able to sense his presence at all - it’s like he has some sort of gift or something.

You did your best to gather your words.

“Yeahh jus’was gonna..get unready here.” You lazily pointed to the shower. Realizing how slurred together your words came out, you looked down and chuckled to yourself in embarrassment. Toji hummed and squatted down next to you to observe the obvious state you were in. He sat there, waiting for you to give a better answer, wondering if you actually thought he was stupid.

“Fine. I’m..just a little tipsy..” You shrugged. Before he could open his mouth to ask any more questions, you scrambled for something else to talk about.

“I thought you had a bunch of errands to run? How are you back at this time?”

“Finished early. Here.” He stood up and put his hands out. You take his large hands and push yourself up with your legs. He keeps a tight hold on you and watches you get up to make sure you don’t fall. Once you’re fully up, he gets a better look at you:

He noticed your hair had been nicely styled. It was beautifully curled, and the way those curtain bangs covered your face when you turned your head a certain way almost made him sway. Toji’s eyes couldn’t help but wander. He looked you down and noticed you had on a dress that stopped just a little below your rear. He’s never seen you in that before, let alone all ‘dolled up’ and ‘girly’. He was so used to seeing you dress comfortably. How could such a small dress hug your body so perfectly? He was impressed at how it even managed to not ride its way up, as if it were made and tailored specifically for you. Still, he stared as you pointlessly tugged at the bottom of the dress to lower it, his eyes now shamelessly traveling down your exposed thighs. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t look amazing right now, even in the drunk state that you’re in. Hell, he thinks it’s a plus.

He was snapped out of his trance when you patted his chest and smiled, not even realizing you had let go of both his hands. “Thank you.” You said.

He stood there and watched as you made another feeble attempt to walk on your own, ultimately tripping over a floor tile - only this time, your fall was completely halted by his arm wrapping around your waist. It made your heart flutter.

He let out a low laugh. “..’Just a little tipsy’?” You laughed sheepishly in response before your feet were suddenly lifted off the floor and your stomach was placed over his shoulders. You suddenly felt so much relief in your toes after Toji took it upon himself to remove your heels and toss them to the ground.

“Let’s get you all settled down.” He said. You jolted when you felt his hand strike your butt and the sting shot up your back, making you suck your teeth. “Ow- Toji, I told you not too hard!” You frowned and slapped his back as a warning. To him, your small hands felt like pillows. He always thought your small fits were cute.

He began to make his way toward the bedroom with you bent over his right shoulder. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you just knew he had a stupid smug look plastered across his lips.

🔹🌀🔹🌀

Toji carried your limp body to the dimly lit bedroom you both share. The trip on the way there wasn’t a good one. Having to watch the ground move with your stomach pressed against his shoulder while drunk was so uncomfortable. You almost felt yourself throw up twice.

He lifted you off his shoulders, carelessly plopping you on the bed. “I’ve got a lotta questions for you.” He paused, unsure of where to even start. “..How the hell did this happen?”

You tossed your forearm over your forehead feeling nothing but dizziness from the impact. “Was with friend, birthday celebration, prolly drank too much, forgot to tell you.” That was all you managed to get out.

“Was it her who dropped you off?”

“Mhmm.” You weakly nodded.

Toji let out a small puff of air and rubbed the back of his head. He was just relieved that at least you returned home safely - and thank goodness it was with another woman. On the other hand, he was still a little frustrated. A little..jealous.

He loves you regardless of how you choose to present yourself, but he’s so used to seeing you in sweatpants, a T-shirt and a ponytail. How come your little friend got to see you all dressed like this before he did? Not only that, but there might’ve been other guys at that party too. Toji could only imagine how many of those animals likely attempted to shoot their shot at you. They always do. And you shoot them down every time, which is why he loves you. Still, it’s the simple fact that other men even think they have a chance with you in the first place that brings Toji to disgust. He didn’t want to think too deeply about it though. It’ll ruin his mood.

Hearing how half-assed and blurred your speech sounded, he figured he’d save all his questions for later and focus on getting you comfortable first. ~ part 2 🌊

[dr3mvaalmar]

Bewitched | Kinktober Day 8

Pairing: Diavolo x F! Reader x Barbatos

Prompt: breeding (nsfw, mdni)

Summary: During an evening party at Diavolo's castle, the reader notices the peculiarity of Diavolo and Barbatos throughout the night when she dons a stranger's necklace. Suddenly, Diavolo guides her to the back of the mansion on the pretense of a private chat. However, a turn of events makes it more... physical.

Warnings/Tags: threesome, cnc, choking, piv, pia, throat fuck, double penetration, crying

Credits: @cafekitsune (divider)

The peak of the night sky loomed above the Devildom, the bright lights of Diavolo’s mansion a beacon in the darkness. A growing crowd was drawing in, people from all realms dressed up for the grand soiree. Demons, angels, and humans alike arrived at the event intended for diplomatic relationships. It was indeed a party for the ages. I anticipated this event for months now.

Arriving early with an entourage of the demon brothers, we stepped inside to see the familiar faces of Diavolo and Barbatos. The golden hue of Diavolo’s eyes scanned the crowd before finally landing on my form. His enthusiasm seemed to grow as he recognized me between the brothers.

“Ah, our esteemed guests,” Diavolo greeted with arms spread wide. “Welcome, all of you.”

Barbatos, dutifully by Diavolo’s side, bowed courteously. A ghost of a smile lined his lips as he acknowledged everyone. Both of them were in their demon form. It was hard not to be in awe. Their extravagant attires and accessories glinted in the mansion’s light. I felt very underdressed at that moment.

People from all walks of life started to pour in, surrounding the room in a dense crowd of revelry and grandeur. I found myself pushed and pulled in various directions by the current of people. I grabbed a drink to sip, slipping between conversation to conversation. Everyone was excited to get to know me, much to my chagrin.

As I drifted towards the outskirts of the ballroom, I felt a violent prod into my side. I gasped, losing the balance of my drink. The remnants spilled all across my dress, saturating the fibers red with wine. I could only stand in shock as I tried to peel the fabric away from my skin.

“Oh my, you have my deepest apologies, miss,” the culprit said. The mysterious woman immediately went to my aid. She guided me to another room, pulling a handkerchief from her purse. “I’m so clumsy. I take full blame. Is there anything else I can do to help?”

I shook my head. Frustration was evident in my features. If I said anything, I may regret my words. She was too handsy and too enthusiastic while helping me. I appreciated her attempt to fix the situation, but I still couldn’t let it subside.

“Here, as a token of my deepest regrets, take this,” she said, taking a glimmering object from her purse. My eyes widen, seeing an intricate golden necklace before me. In the center was a large red gem. It was stunning. “If you would accept it, it would mean so much to me. It would suit a pretty young lady such as yourself more than I.”

“I’m not sure if I can accept this,” I told her, my confidence waning. “It’s too precious.”

“I insist. Wearing it will make you absolutely ravishing,” the woman said again, so I reluctantly took the jewelry. She helped me put it on, and I admired the glimmer as it fell perfectly off my chest. “I must go, but I bid you good fortune. Have a wonderful evening, (Y/n).”

With that, she disappeared, and dread filled its place in her absence. Who was that woman? How did she know my name?

I walked back into the ballroom, finger and thumb fiddling with the new jewelry. A deep sense of uneasiness washed over me, but the splendor of the party was slowly turning my mood around. I decided to talk to the demon brothers to pass the time.

Shortly after, live music filled the room. Everyone shifted and swayed, dancing to their hearts’ content. It was a soft melody, with people joining in pairs to savor the rhythm together. Excited, my eyes started searching for a partner.

“(Y/n), would you like to join me in this dance?” a voice said behind me. I turned around, blinking a few times as I beheld Diavolo before me. He was gorgeous, his presence radiating a powerful aura. The rays of the chandeliers framed him perfectly, accentuating the gilded molding and tapestries in the background. He looked like a beloved painting.

“Well, of course, Dia- I mean, Lord Diavolo,” I replied, holding out my hand. He chuckled, taking it enthusiastically. His grip was gentle but pulled me into a daze. We started dancing amidst the crowd as Diavolo waltzed with me. We found each other in the spotlight, directly in the center. Each movement was swift and synchronized, feet gliding over the marble floor with ease.

“Being this close to you, feeling the warmth of your hand in mine… I will savor this to the depths of my heart. Thank you,” Diavolo said, looking away for a brief moment. Taken aback, I faltered, causing me to step on his toes. I tensed, falling into Diavolo’s broad chest. He held me firm between his hands, stabilizing my body.

“Careful,” Diavolo muttered, taking me back into a dancing stance. We were closer this time, and I could feel the warmth radiating from his chest. As I tentatively peered into his eyes, I found an intensity that caused a shiver to run throughout my body. Something was odd about the way he looked at me. Did I do something wrong?

It was silent between us for the remainder of the dance. I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly changed, but Diavolo didn’t say much other than simple pleasantries. I thanked him for the dance before departing. I felt his gaze linger on me as I walked towards the bar. 

I was intensely thirsty, my throat parched from my interaction with Diavolo. I needed something to satiate it. As I neared, I found Barbatos blocking my path. There was an eager glimmer in his eye as if I was just the person he was expecting.

“Ah, it’s rare to see someone rush to the bar with such urgency. Did you enjoy your dance with the young master?” 

“Hello, Barbatos. It’s good to see you,” I greeted with a nervous laugh. “It was a bit… much. I’m a little parched, honestly.”

“Lord Diavolo does have that effect on people, especially those he has a particular interest in,” Barbatos said, ushering me by his side. His every move was graceful, even the gentle swish of his tail. 

“It was just a dance. Why would Lord Diavolo take an interest in me?”

“Well, the way the young master’s eyes were fixated on you, it was quite evident,” Barbatos assured. “But I suppose I tend to notice the finer details, such as that necklace around your neck. It’s lovely. A gift, perhaps?”

“This? Oh, some lady gave it to me. A thoughtful gesture.”

“Mysterious, but do be cautious. Some gifts may come with strings attached,” Barbatos warned, his gaze lingering along my collarbone. I blinked as I swore he was looking lower… but he wouldn’t do that, would he?

“What do you mean?”

“Figuratively speaking, of course,” Barbatos chuckled, his body poised before me. “Now let me get that drink for you. It’s the least I can do for a guest as captivating as yourself.”

My face grew hot as I stammered on my words of appreciation. Barbatos poured my preferred beverage, adding a flourish as he handed the drink to me. His gloved hands glided over mine as I took it. I took a brief sip, nodding, before joining the crowd again.

Shortly after, dinner took place. There was a grand table lined with fancy plates and utensils. Flowers and candles lined the center, shining on the faces of all the guests. I could smell food wafting from the kitchen as Diavolo’s servants prepped the food. 

Beel was the first to devour the appetizers as they came out, leaving little—if any—for everyone else. I took a bite of some crimson wyrm wings, quite similar in taste and texture to chicken. It was heavenly, as was everything the prince of the Devildom and his faithful butler had to offer.

Diavolo made a toast to the prosperous future of the three realms. Everyone clapped and cheered before diving into the delectable food before them. It was splendid. I haven’t seen such eagerness and camaraderie between species of angels, demons, and humans. It was a pleasant sight. 

The demon brothers sat to my left, as well as a strange man I didn’t recognize to my right. I couldn’t help but notice the furtive glances from him every time I saw him in my peripheral vision. I felt the same uneasiness from when I met that woman. They seemed eerily similar.

“Miss (L/n),” his gruff voice piped up beside me. I turned my head, showing him my curiosity. “It’s truly a privilege to witness such a beauty amidst the monotonous sea of faces. Tell me, would you be interested in visiting my mansion? I have many wonders I could show you. I assure you, the luxuries and pleasures I have to offer will make your stay unforgettable.”

I tried desperately not to contort my face in disgust, especially when he reached for my hand to kiss my knuckle briskly. I felt so out of place, especially when some of the guests took interest. To hell, I was just trying to enjoy my dinner.

My ears perked up as I heard the tell-tale sound of chair legs grinding against the floor. I peeked up, seeing Diavolo standing from his seat. For an instant, his face was contorted into a scowl, but he quickly composed himself. The party guests turned as well, whispering amongst themselves. Time seemed to pass agonizingly slow as Diavolo walked over towards me. His steps seemed heavy, and a foreboding feeling overwhelmed me. He grasped my wrist as he reached my side, whispering close to my ear.

“We need to talk… privately.”

Diavolo tugged me from my chair as I lamented the loss of my meal. However, Beel was quick to enjoy it for me. Diavolo’s steps were long and fast as I struggled to keep up. I tripped on my feet, but he didn’t so much as glance my way. Diavolo was typically optimistic and chivalrous. Yet, this person didn’t seem like Diavolo at all.

We both made it to the stairs along the back, descending until we found a door. Diavolo opened it, guiding me with a hand on my back. There was no way I could say no as I recognized one of the various dungeons before me. What did I do??

The inside of the room was dimly lit, the wall sconces flickering along the walls. A breeze of cool air hit my face, causing my body to shiver inadvertently. Each step along the hard floor echoed across the chamber, the air thick with tension.

Diavolo walked a few paces ahead before turning towards me. I immediately halted, but a wave of relief washed over me as he showed me an awkward smile. Yet, it didn’t subside as I looked into the depths of his eyes. Something strange is happening.

“Why, (Y/n),” Diavolo mutters, his words ending with a bitter edge. “Do you typically let others address you with such familiarity?”

My eyes widened, unsure of how to respond. Yet, I struggled to defend the accusations. I folded my arms for warmth and also a pathetic attempt at intimidating him.

“Lord Diavolo, that was never—”

“You should remember your place here,” Diavolo said, cutting me off effectively. The door behind me was still ajar. If I took a moment now to flee, maybe I could escape from whatever was in store for me.

“Now, now, young master,” Barbatos chimed from behind me. I whipped around, finding him blocking my escape route. His eyes didn’t dare leave me. “Perhaps our dear guest simply needs a reminder.”

It took me a moment to decipher their intentions, but it hit me like a pile of bricks when I did. They weren’t serious, were they? But the look in their eyes told me otherwise. What was getting into them? I’ve never seen this side of them, nor could I anticipate this to happen. I was trapped, two powerful demons leaving me no mercy. 

“You’re right, and she knows precisely what she’s doing,” Diavolo muttered, inching closer to me. I could hear the rustle of clothes as Barbatos neared as well. It was too dark to see the exact details of their expression, but I could feel the danger. 

“Do you think so little of me, Diavolo?” I asked, resisting their advances. I’m vulnerable as a human, but I wouldn’t let up so quickly.

“It’s not about thinking little about you,” Barbatos murmured, his face nearing my neck. I could feel his hot breath against my skin. “It’s about wanting too much.”

I could feel a faint buzzing near my chest. Barbatos’s fingers lingered around my neck as he stood behind me. His touch against my sensitive skin made me freeze in place. Diavolo seemed impatient to join, reaching out to grab my chin. I felt him tilt my head, forcing me to peer into the yellow stars of his eyes.

“Tonight, you’ll know exactly where you belong,” Diavolo said darkly. It was a promise, not simply words. I felt Barbatos push me forward, guiding me toward another room. This room was less stifling, housing various antique furniture. He guided me to a divan, setting me there while his hands glided up my wrists towards my biceps and gently down to my waist. Diavolo is quick to join. I turn towards him, uncertain about his actions. I let out a muffled yelp as I felt his lips clash with mine. It’s hungry, a force to be reckoned with. The movement of his soft lips makes my mind buzz with excitement.

“You had everyone’s eyes on you the entire evening,” Diavolo said, drifting away from his lips. However, his focus did not waver as he resisted another kiss. “Did you enjoy the attention?”

“I didn’t mean to…,” I whispered, my voice becoming increasingly unruly. It felt like something was caught in my throat. The presence of them both pressing in on me was too much to bear. 

“Innocent intentions or not, you’ve stirred something within us,” Barbatos warned, his hands rubbing circles on my thighs. I pressed my legs together, not letting my body give in to the teasing. “We have no intentions of letting that go to waste.”

“And what if I don’t want to be a part this?” I asked daringly. I immediately regretted my words as they paused their motions, glancing knowingly at each other.

Barbatos opened his mouth, his slick tongue sliding against my ear. I resisted making a sound as he whispered, “Your body says otherwise.”

“Lay down, (Y/n),” Diavolo orders, guiding me onto the couch. It’s slow, but somehow, I trust them to watch over me. However, they look like predators observing their prey.

“Relax,” Barbatos comforts, rubbing a hand along my side as I finally situate myself. I whimper as I feel his hands underneath my body. I arch my back as he unzips my dress, the fabric loosening around me. Diavolo runs his large hands over the exposed portion of my neck, carefully peeling the clothes from my body. They work in tandem, Barbatos guiding the fabric over my legs. I tried to cover my exposed body; the only material remaining was my panties.

“Wait,” I tried to say but halted as Diavolo leaned down, embracing me in a passionate kiss. His hands cupped my cheeks, my head in his lap. Seeing him in reverse was strange, but he expertly moved with my lips, tongue prodding at my flesh with heavy desire. During my distraction, I hardly noticed Barbatos tugging off the remainder of my outfit. All that was left was my necklace and shoes. 

“Every little sound you make, every tremor of your lips, beckons me closer. Do you realize the power you wield over me?” Diavolo muttered, lips still eagerly moving with my own. I gasped as I felt the sensation of something wet against my most delicate parts. Pulling away from Diavolo, I bent my head to see Barbatos lapping at my cunt, eyes shamelessly locked with mine. His arm looped around my thigh, his palm resting on my stomach. He looked like a viper ready to strike.

“What are you doing?” I exclaimed, but Diavolo held my wrists down before I could push Barbatos away. I twisted my hips and moved my legs, but Barbatos held me firm under his hand. I didn’t expect such strength.

I whined under his tongue, his mouth sucking on the tender bud of my clit. I panted, eyes half-lidded as Diavolo observed every move. I tried to shout as a rush of pleasure washed over me, but Diavolo simply shoved his thick fingers into my mouth.

“Quiet, my dear,” Diavolo murmured as I choke on his digits. Biting down doesn’t seem to phase him in the slightest. “Wouldn’t want the entire castle to know our little secret, would we?”

I tried to say something but couldn’t. I could feel Barbatos’ free hand teasing my entrance with his middle finger. I didn’t even notice Diavolo moving my head over so he could stroke his cock. It was all too much. I had no idea what was happening or where. 

Diavolo’s large dick shadowed my vision as he shifted onto his knees. His hands lay on either side of me, finding a comfortable spot, before he used a free hand to guide his dick to my mouth. To my horror, I realized he intended to fuck my throat. At first, I turned my head to the side, squeezing my eyes shut as his tip prodded at my lips. Impatient, he straightened out my head with his hand. After I refused to open my mouth, he clamped his thumb and finger over my nose, cutting off my oxygen. 

I gasped for air, a momentary respite, before feeling his thickness entering my tight throat. I tried to make a noise to tell him to stop, but it was no use. He was already all the way in. My mind screamed at me to breathe, but my airway was obstructed. With a deliberate motion of his hips, tears threatened to spill from my eyes. 

My throat was being assaulted while Barbatos hooked his fingers into me, tongue gliding over my clit. He found the rough spot on the roof of my vagina, curling his fingers at just the right pace. I tried to kick, but Diavolo’s hands were firm on my wrists as he thrust inside my bruising throat. I could feel my gag reflex kick in as he hit the back of my throat over and over again. 

“You feel so good, taking me in so eagerly,” Diavolo groaned, the base of his dick colliding with me. I tightened my throat in protest, earning a moan from the demon. He slid out, finally allowing me to take a deep gulp of air.

“Give me a moment. Slow down… I can’t…,” I panted, Diavolo’s tip hovering over me again. I moaned as Barbatos increased his pace, a tension rising within me. My fingers stretched out for a moment as my face froze. Something released inside of me.

“Coming already? What a sweet little human,” Diavolo purred, rubbing my breasts between my palms. I could only let a guttural shriek as I reached my peak. Fluid dispelled from within me, soaking into the fabric of the couch. Barbatos didn’t stop his torment, dragging out more and more from within me. 

“I could get lost in those pleading eyes of yours,” Diavolo said, shoving his dick in me again. I couldn’t even get a moment to gather myself before plunging back into the fray.

“Do you think you can handle both of us?” Barbatos asked as I heard the familiar sound of an unbuckling belt. I couldn’t even look as he rubbed his cock against my wet slit. I felt embarrassment well up in me from the mess I had formed. Yet, both of them didn’t seem to care. I tried to kick from underneath him, but he only chuckled.

“Feeling overwhelmed? Just let go and surrender to us,” Barbatos affirmed, pushing his length into me. Tears spilled, coating my face along with a string of saliva. I felt utterly filled as they moved in unison. Diavolo scraped my throat, and Barbatos pumped into me until he hit my cervix. Both violated the very depths within me.

My body was in a perpetual state of pain and pleasure. I didn’t know whether to give in or fight them off. Regardless, it didn’t matter. They were too busy having their way. There was no reason for them to stop. I was simply a body to relieve their desires.

Diavolo groaned, his dick twitching inside of me. His first orgasm hit him hard as he fit his entire dick inside me. I could only take it all as cum shot down my throat, my mind threatening to collapse. If Diavolo didn’t take his cock out at that moment, I would’ve certainly passed out. I choked, letting the viscous liquid run down my throat. I desperately craved some water to appease my aching insides. 

“Why don’t we change this up, shall we?” Barbatos said, placing his hands underneath my hips. He easily pulled me into his lap, his body still connected to mine. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around him. I’m sure my face looked like a mess after being abused by Diavolo. 

Barbatos guided me onto his dick as I bobbed up and down. The tip hit all the right places inside of me as I felt something tense up. I felt Diavolo spit, the sound reverberating across the room. Lewd squelches commenced as he stroked his cock. 

As Barbatos thrust inside with me on his lap, Diavolo aligned with the entrance of my ass. I could only grip onto Barbatos harder as he coaxed the hole open with his finger, slipping his dick in after its stead. It was much larger than I expected. How did he recover so fast?

Now, the both of them fucked me senseless, my moans a cacophony across the castle’s chambers. They both grunted and groaned, Barbatos gripping my thighs and Diavolo holding my waist and throat. I couldn’t do anything but ride out orgasm after orgasm. I had no idea how long it had been.

They filled everything inside of me. Cum coated my skin, the couch, my hair, to the very depths of my pussy, ass, and throat. Nothing was left untouched as they used me like a doll. I’ve never felt this sense of vigor and lust. They had no intentions of stopping. Yet, when they did, I couldn’t help but lay there entangled in their limbs. I was numb, the night still not registering in my brain. 

They cuddled me with their naked bodies, arms wrapped lazily around me. I sighed, sitting up while they lazily acknowledged my movements.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Diavolo muttered, grasping my waist in an attempt to stop me. I only looked down, a faint smile gracing my lips.

“What was with you two tonight?” I asked, finally desiring an answer to their atypical demeanor. Barbatos only laughed. 

“That necklace,” Barbatos continued, hands grazing the jewelry around my neck. I peeked down, noticing the gem turning a dull gray color. “It's a quite powerful curse. The curse itself is a type of seduction magic, forcing out the carnal desires of those you attract.”

“So, everything that happened…” I said, feeling shame well up inside of me. I wrapped my arms around my exposed breasts.

I tensed as I felt someone trace patterns along my back. It was Diavolo, a gentle smile comforting me in my turmoil. Each sensation caused goosebumps to form along my arms. 

“The artifact was simply a catalyst,” Diavolo explained, laughing at my solemn expression. “They simply intensified feelings that were already there. The necklace just… nudged it to the surface.”

I smiled back, feeling more at ease. Even though they pushed me to my limits, having them show their affection like this was pleasant. They ensured my every doubt was satiated and my body was recovering. 

Barbatos brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear before saying, “The necklace may have been the trigger, but our actions were very much real. Do not forget our adoration for you is genuine.”

I gasped, straightening up. This shocked them both, their bodies going rigid.

“What about the party? Everyone? They must be worried.”

“They’ll manage a few hours without us,” Diavolo chuckled, pulling me close. “Though, I might have to formally apologize for my actions earlier.”

“We will worry about the problems when we arrive to it,” Barbatos comforted, curling into me. His tail drifted to my leg, flicking at my skin like a snake’s tongue.

I felt my body and soul connected to them. With every touch and murmur, I found my head lolling to the side. Exhaustion was starting to set in. 

Diavolo cradled my head, leaning down into a kiss. He pulled back, letting Barbatos have a taste as well. They both looked very pleased. My face radiated heat, but my grin showed how much I adored this moment.

“I promise, no more mysterious artifacts,” I giggled, taking their hands into mine. They squeezed my hands back. Diavolo’s chest rumbled with amusement.

“Sometimes the most unexpected paths lead to the most memorable destinations,” Diavolo said, lying flat by my side. 

“It’s certainly a night I will never forget,” I responded, eyes drifting closed. Nothing mattered right now besides this moment. Time stretched on as I savored the warmth of their bodies against mine. Three hearts beat as one, promising silent vows of more cherished moments to come.

[concreteburialplot]

Intertwined // 04

04 - Snapped Neck

pairing: noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo

masterlists: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 5.1k

warnings; VERY SAD 🥲, mild yelling/verbal abuse?, hints at past abuse, reference to past character death, noah is a devastated horrible depressed mess, short time skips, don’t say i didn’t warn you - sorry in advance, don’t hate me 🥲

reminder; THIS IS AU, nothing is meant to be accurate, including family history/events/dynamics/members/names !!

a/n: don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

i’d like to offer a small playlist for this chapter:

seven - taylor swift

matilda - harry styles

winner - conan gray

hard times - ethel cain

anything 4 u - LANY

if it keeps you up at night - the swoons

-NOAH-

After much-needed water bottles, I’m finally starting to feel somewhat normal again. Folio’s asleep in bed next to me while I lay on a laughably thin blanket on the floor. My eyes fully adjusted to the darkness and all I’m focused on is the popcorn ceiling and counting each plaster peak.

The party rages on the other side of the room and I wonder if anyone out there is sober enough to take me home. It’s almost 1 am and the party hasn’t slowed down. I sigh roughly and roll over to wrap the thin pillow around my head to cover both ears. Even through the cotton I can still vaguely hear the music and a song starts that Nicholas and I were obsessed with a couple months ago.

I chuckle quietly at the lyrics,

“That’s my best friend, she a real bad bitch…”

Such a silly song, even though it’s nothing like what we play or what we regularly listen to – we somehow always get the same pop-y songs stuck in our heads at the same time, then end up loving them unironically.

I shake my head with a stupid grin, thinking about the time we were in the kitchen doing a proper, ridiculous performance while we blasted it through a Google speaker. It started with that song but then snowballed into an entire concert at 2 am – all while his little sister just made fun of us, until she eventually caved in and joined our set.

We were all mic-ed up: me a dustpan, Nicholas a broom, and Stella a spatula.

I dig my front teeth into my bottom lip to stifle a laugh that would definitely wake up Folio.

The memory makes the ground below me that much more rigid.

I’ve already tried sleeping every which way on this god-forsaken carpet, but I can’t seem to get comfy.

The hard floor must be the reason I can’t fall asleep.

I flip back to lay flat.

I don’t really understand why Nick got so upset, but it’s been a long night, so I guess I get it. I’m sure he wasn’t thrilled about getting in the lake. Fucking Folio.

And I know he doesn’t like parties.

I don’t really like them either. I think? Maybe I do now? I don’t know.

But I didn’t want to do this without him.

And I just let him leave like that…

God why did I let him leave.

I want to go home.

I need to go home.

There’s a sharp twist in my stomach when I unlock my dying phone and find no texts from him.

I open my bank app to check my balance. $33.87.

I exit and click on the Uber app, put in our address to see the price. $27.59.

I hit request.

I get home after an Uber ride from a questionable middle-aged man with ridiculous combover.

I fumble with my keys at the front door only to find that it’s not locked. I press my weight against the creaky wooden door to push it open. The house is quiet, if Nick’s car wasn’t in the driveway, I’d think the house was completely empty.

I quietly set my keys down on the wooden dining table across from the kitchen. The bedroom door in the hallway is closed, which I expected. I cross the linoleum and very gently twist the doorknob to peer inside. The small room is illuminated solely by moonlight beaming in through the large window by the bed. I step into the room and click the door closed behind me. When I walk over to the bed, the shimmering white light acts like a spotlight on his face and what I notice churns something deep in my chest. Dried streaks coat his face and look almost like rivers from puffy red eyes.

Surely, he didn’t come home that upset because of the argument we had, right?

I tug at my lip and very gently slip into bed beside him beneath the puffy duvet. The movement causes Nicholas to stir and turn away from me. I stay completely still, not even moving a muscle until he’s completely settled then turn in the same direction as him, just inches away from his back.

If he’s that upset with me, would he even want me here?

Am I intruding?

Is it really intruding if I live here too?

Maybe I should’ve stayed on Folio’s floor.

It’s only then that it really sets in that I really moved out, well more like kicked out, and I live here now. Mostly anyway.

But just because you live somewhere doesn’t mean it’s your home. While I love living with my best friend, and I love his family, and they feel like family – they’re not. As much as they try to not make me feel like one, I am an outsider here.

Even Folio in his frat house, sure he just got hazed and whatever, but he belongs there.

I don’t belong anywhere.

The closest thing I’ve gotten to what I imagine belonging feels like, is with Nicholas. But again, he has no tie to me. We’re friends of course, but if I pissed him off and he wanted me gone… well I’d have nothing. I’d have nowhere to go.

I hate this feeling, this feeling of relying on people.

It’s weird taking up space somewhere you have to walk on eggshells because it’s not yours. Because you don’t belong.  

It’s not like I felt like I belonged at home either, not after Mom passed.

So here is better than there at least.

At least there’s no yelling or slamming doors here.

My eyes drift through the moonlit darkness to the small pile of my belongings in the corner of the room. The sight sends a chill up my spine and my heart rate noticeably rises. I’m reminded that there are still some things waiting for me at my stepdad’s.

I want the ability to truly get on my own, if I don’t want to rely on people, I need to get my stuff so that I can actually make something of myself.

I need to at least try.

And to do that, I need my guitar and my keyboard. I’m nothing without them – and I won’t be able to be anything without them.

-NICHOLAS-

My eyes shoot open when shrill screams fill my eardrums. I nearly jump out of my skin at the noise, especially since I had gone to bed alone.

I don’t have the luxury of trying to figure out how Noah got home, just that he is and he’s having another night terror.

“Fuck.” I mutter.

Because I did such a great fucking job dealing with this last time.

I tug at his freezing cold arm and shake him vigorously but of course, it didn’t do much the first time, why would it have a different result now.

I replicate what I did the last time and straddle his lap, grabbing his wrists and pinning them at his sides to restrain his jerky movements.

“NOAH!” I repeat his name with increasing volume.

He wakes up slowly after a couple times of calling his name.

“Nicholas?” He asks groggily, with furrowed brows and squinted eyes.

I sigh, “Night terror.” I state curtly and pull off him, landing beside him with my back towards him.

“Oh.” He says softly and his eyes falter. “Sorry.”

There’s a twist of guilt in my gut because I should be softer with him after his terror, but I just don’t have it in me tonight. The teary soreness in my eyes reminds me just how much I don’t have it in me. I tug the sheets closer to my body.

He rustles around a bit trying to get comfortable, but I fall back asleep quickly. For a bit.

It’s not long after, maybe an hour or two, that I’m awoken once again but this time to a bunch of noise and the overhead light on at full brightness.

“What the fuck.” I mumble, sitting up and rubbing one eye while keeping the other mostly shut.

I turn to find Noah sitting on folded knees, manically rummaging through the couple bags he moved in with. He’s ripping through each one, tossing pieces of clothing out left and right, shaking out the empty bags as if they have hidden compartments.

“What the fuck are you doing Noah.” I ask, my tone soaked in annoyance, exhaustion, and anger.

“I can’t find some of my shirts. I need to get the rest of my shit out. Today.” He replies, his words rushed.

My brows knit together at his sudden – and poorly timed – bout of bravery and motivation. He’d been putting this off and avoiding it for weeks. And now he’s tearing apart his stuff, throwing shit all over our room at 4:30 in the morning… after a night of drinking?

I yawn and shake my head in confusion, “Wait, wait, wait, how did you even get home?”

“Uber.” He replies simply, his gaze still focused on his third bag not even looking up at me.

“You took an Uber home?” I ask somewhat skeptically, “Why didn’t you just call me?”

His rummaging movements pause with a bundle of shirts in hand, “Didn’t wanna bother you.” Then continues digging through the bag.

Normally I would go on a tangent about how I’d rather call me to pick him up instead of doing something stupid like possibly be driven home by someone inebriated – but I’m much too depleted, both physically and emotionally to do so.

“Well, you should’ve called me.” I tug the cotton sheets closer to my body and bunch the material to my chest. “What is this really about? You’re acting so strange.”

I reach over to the light switch and turn the knob to dim the white-yellow hue of the light above us.

“I just need to get my shit, Nicholas.” He huffs, seeming aggravated by my questions.

“Well, you’re gonna go alone if you keep snapping at me like that.” I retort, even though I’d never let him go alone.

He exhales and deflates with a balled-up band tee in his hands. “I just need to do it today. If I don’t do it today, I might not ever be able to.”

Honestly, this is the last thing I fucking needed after earlier tonight. I just wanted to fucking sleep. And not be around Noah.

Yet here I am, awake, around too much Noah.

“Fine.” I sigh. “Fine, we can go today – but only if you fucking wrap up whatever the fuck you’re doing and come to bed. If we’re really doing this today, you don’t need to be sleep-deprived for it.”

“Fine.” He agrees reluctantly and begins gathering the clothes to shove back into the bags. “But I probably won’t be able to sleep.”

“Well, you should at least try.” I scoot back into my left side to make room for him.

The box spring squeaks under the weight of him when slides in and immediately turns away from me. Normally I would be a tad offended, but tonight, I’m grateful.

Surprisingly, small snoozy noises escape him not long after his head hit the pillow. I lay facing him, watching the rise and fall of his ribcage like a metronome.

Concern and fear suddenly flood my bloodstream like a bad drug. Getting most of his stuff out the first time was no picnic and I just know this last time is going to be even worse. Frankly, I’m a tad worried about the things he’d left behind, I wouldn’t put it past his stepdad to throw them out.

I shake my head and try to focus on my breathing to calm me down. When that doesn’t work, I try counting.

I drift off to sleep before 30.  

My faux-leather steering wheel cover cracks under my fidgeting fingers. Noah can’t seem to sit still, running his hands up and down his thighs probably to self soothe. The anxiety is thick and tangible in the car. He would never admit it to me, but I know he’s scared shitless about going back home. Noah always tried to hide it from me, but I’m not stupid. It doesn’t matter how “anemic” or thin you are, you don’t amass that many bruises that frequently. I always wondered if that’s why he started wanting so many tattoos so suddenly. Maybe, on some level, that’s what made me want to start tattooing in the first place.

The normally 20-minute-long car ride felt like three hours, but when we arrived, I could’ve sworn it had only been 3 minutes.

I park on the curb at the end of the driveway and shut off the car. Just being on the tiny patch of lawn has my heart thumping through my chest and it’s not even my battle.

But I guess if I’m here with him,

If it’s his, it’s mine too.

As much as he wasn’t prepared to do this, neither was I. My gaze lands on the rectangular windows of the small yellow house. From the outside, it looks so normal, so happy even. It’s almost eerie how far from the truth that is.

I look over at him, just now realizing he hadn’t said a word the whole ride. He’s slumped in the passenger seat, one lanky arm wrapped around his own waist and the other stationed at his mouth. His eyes glued to the house behind me as he chews on his thumbnail.

“We can still go back home, Noah. We don’t have to do this today if you’re not ready.” I offer gently, mostly because I don’t think either of us are fully equipped to do this.  

“No. I have to do this.” His eyes finally falter away from the house and land on me.

“Okay. You sure you’re ready?” I ask quietly.

His teeth dig into his bottom lip. “No. But I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“I’m gonna be with you the whole time, okay?” I hold out my pinky. “Always, remember?”

He nods and hooks onto my pinky. “Always.”

As expected, I’ve landed myself in the middle of a brawl between Noah and his stepdad. I feel guilty and useless standing there as a bystander not interfering, but my feet can’t seem to move and my vocal cords have ceased to function.

Noah started off strong, full of adrenaline and blind bravery, but it didn’t take long for George to wear him down.

My heart beats loud in my ears and I can’t hear a word they’re saying. All I see is him waving around Noah’s guitar like it’s a toy, using it as an extension of his exaggerated furious expressions. Noah’s tall, but George is much taller and stronger than him, so Noah just looks like a mouse running around an elephant, scrambling trying to snatch the instrument back.

I’m not sure what they’re even screaming about but the argument escalates further than I ever expected it to. My eyes round as I witness each of George’s hands slide to either end of the guitar’s neck.

No

He wouldn’t

As if in slow motion, I watch the light pale from Noah’s face. His eyes wide and teary, and his brows curled up. I can see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes in real time as he watches his stepdad easily snap the neck of his beloved guitar.

The break is quick and sharp and fills the room with the sound of cords plucking and wood splintering. The noise after is even louder though, just jarring silence.

Until George opens his mouth again. “Get your sad, pathetic little toys and your little boyfriend out of my goddamn house.” Rasps his deep Western accent.

He forcefully tosses the broken instrument at Noah, hitting him so hard it knocks him backwards. The livid man storms across the house and slams the master bedroom door behind him.

Noah’s knees buckle and land harshly on the carpeted floor, holding the guitar in his arms as if it’s a wounded soldier in battle. His face scrunches up around his eyes and tears just begin pouring from him. His chest hiccups with each sob that escapes. He curls the wooden pieces in his arms into his chest and rests his forehead against the curve of the guitar. His cries heave his entire body.

I’m frozen where I stand. What I just witnessed might as well have been a murder. I’ve seen Noah cry, of course, but this is something I’ve only ever seen once before. Besides that one time, I’ve never seen him this bad. At least, he’s never letme see him this bad.

I gently meet him on the floor. For some reason, I feel hesitant to touch him, but I can’t just sit here and do nothing.

I don’t dare even touch the arms that are gripped onto his guitar so, I rest my hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t even react to my touch at all, as if he can’t even feel it.

“Noah…” I say cautiously. “Let’s just get you out of here, okay? We just need to grab your stuff and get out. We can figure this out later… later when we’re not here.”

He doesn’t respond and when I try to nudge him even a little bit, he’s solid like concrete where he’s kneeled.

“C’mon Noah we gotta go.” I stretch up to double-check that the bedroom door is still closed. “I’ll get the rest of your stuff. We just need to get you out of here.” I urge and squeeze his shoulder a bit.

His fingers dig into the instrument as he takes a deep sniffle and screws his eyes shut tight, shoving the salty tears out. He just gives me a little nod against the guitar, letting me know that he understands but doesn’t move.

“Please, Noah.” I beg and try pulling at his arm again. “Please get up. I need you to get up for me.”

He gives a little of his arm to me and not much more. But I take what I can get and use both of my arms to weakly lift him up from the floor by his underarms. I basically carry him out of the house, his body limp as I drag him backwards across the overgrown lawn. Shards of dying grass cling to our clothes and dust kicks up all over the back of his jeans.

I feebly open my back door and let him crawl into the backseat with the guitar tight in his grip. He immediately lays with it across the cushions and some boxes.

Luckily, we had gotten most of his belongings already so there was just the final sweep left to do.

Thankfully, George is still holed up in his room, though that doesn’t ease my panicked heart-pounding in my ears. Noah’s room is completely bare except for a half-filled trash bag of miscellaneous belongings. I drag the heavy bag across the stained beige carpet, but I stop at something that catches my eye.

In one cubicle of many that make up a huge bookshelf are a couple of photo albums in chronological order spanning over a few years. From the peek-through covers I can tell that they’re filled with pictures of his parents, or maybe at least his mom.

My head snaps at a stir that comes from behind the bedroom door and in a split-second decision, I scoop all the photo albums and throw them into the black trash bag. I use all my strength to heave the now extra bulky bag across the yard as I run towards the car.

I toss the bag into the trunk and slam the door before rounding the car, throwing myself so hard into the driver’s seat that I nearly tip the car over. I take a glance in my rear-view to check on Noah and find his body tightly curled around the instrument sobbing even worse than how I left him. Seeing him like this… gives me an ache in my chest that I didn’t even know could hurt so much. It’s so excruciating that I could almost vomit from it.

I quickly shift the car into drive and speed off so fast that my wheels squeal.

I’m unsure what to do or what to say. It feels like saying anything would only make things worse at risk of saying something wrong. I always feel guilty when situations like this happen with his family because I can’t imagine what he feels. I don’t know what I’d do without my family, and I can’t even fathom someone treating their child like that, especially him. Noah is the last person on earth that deserves that.

I bite my nail as I walk back and forth in the living room lost in my thoughts.

“Honey, why don’t you come sit down?” My mom suggests patting the couch cushion next to her. “Pacing around the living room isn’t going to help anything.”

I sigh and meet her on the couch, “You should’ve seen him, Mamá.” I run my fingers through my sweat-coated roots. “Oh my god, it was horrible.”

She begins rubbing small circles into my back, “I know Gatito.” She tries to soothe, using her Spanish nickname for me – she always told me I resembled a small cat. “But we know what his family is like, I’m surprised something like this hadn’t happened sooner.”

“Yeah…” I trail off, biting down hard on my thumbnail thinking of all the things we never told her his stepdad had done. If she knew the things he’d done to him – especially in front of me – who knows what she’d do. She’s a Hispanic single mother, nothing would be able to stop her – and a George vs. Mom battle royal is the last thing we need.

“I’ve just never seen anyone that… defeated before. That guitar was everything to him.” I hang my head and use both hands to cover my face.

“Well, you know, maybe we could pull together some extra money by Christmas?” She offers. “I could pick up some extra shifts at the hospital.”

“No, no, Mom, you don’t understand.” I sigh and turn my head to her against my propped palm. “His mom gave him that guitar.”

“Oh.” She replies solemnly in understanding.

“There’s a music store in town where I get my vinyls, they do repairs there.” My sister speaks up from across the room, resting on the column that separates the living room from the kitchen. “Maybe you could see if they could fix it?”

I blink blankly as I process her words and it’s like a lightbulb illuminates above my head. “You actually might have a good idea for once Stell.”

 She rolls her eyes, “I’m trying to be helpful, you don’t have to be rude.”

“I’m your brother, it’s kind of my job to be rude.”

“Whatever.” She takes a sip from her obnoxiously sized water bottle. “There’s a really cute guy that works there, I think he does most of the repairs. His name is Jolly, tell him Stella sent you.” She winks.

“Augh.” I groan in disgust and wave her boy craze away. “I’ll be sure to do that.” I add sarcastically.

A serious stillness falls over the room like everyone is equally unsure of how to proceed.

“What are you gonna do about Noah?” Stella asks softly, her voice laced with concern.

My leg bounces in anxious uncertainty as my eyes drift over to my closed bedroom door.

“I don’t know.”

I gently knock on my door and slowly creek it open. The room is pitch black with just Noah on the bed curled up around his guitar, his shoulder length hair splayed across the pillows, and the duvet wrapped around him like a cocoon. He’d been hidden away in my room like this since we got home.

“You awake?” I question timidly, readjusting the tray in my hands.

It takes a moment, but he replies with a tiny, short groan.

“I brought you soup. You know, the chicken noodle my mom makes that you like so much?”

Another brief pause followed by a slightly more intrigued grumble.

I take it as permission to enter and precariously make my way over to him. There’s a sliver of mattress left behind him, and I fit half my ass on it.

I allow him the space to be quiet with me for a bit.

“How are you doing?” I ask, even though it’s an asinine question.

He just sniffles.

“I know, I’m sorry.” I sigh quietly. “Is there anything I can do?”

He sniffles again and scooches further into the bed, onto my side.

I silently tap my index finger on the plastic tray, pondering what that could mean before I speak. “You want me to lay with you?”

He gives a small ‘mhm’ groan.

“Okay, I can do that. But can you eat for me?”

He replies with a ‘nuh-uh’ whine.  

I exhale knowing this was going to be an uphill battle. “Noah, you’ve gotta eat.”

He shakes his head in resistance again.

“C’mon, just a couple bites…for me?”

A pause before he lets out a defiant but agreeing sigh.

“You’re not gonna move, are you?”

He shakes his head.

I breathe out trying not to sound annoyed because I should be grateful that he even cooperated this much.

Maneuvering around him from behind, I hold the bowl in one hand and the spoon in the other. Thankfully, the soup had cooled down to just a bit warmer than room temperature. I scoop a spoonful of it, making sure to get a little bit of everything: noodle, chicken, and carrot – if he’s only going to take a couple bites, I have to make sure they count.  I carefully bring the spoon over to his lips, he lifts his head just a bit and takes the spoonful into his mouth. He let me give him 4 or 5 bites, which was more than I expected, before rejecting the rest.

I set the bowl on the nightstand, lift the sheets, and nestle into the space he made for me.

“Thanks for eating.” I say quietly. “I know you didn’t want to.”

He nods mutely.

I press my lips together. “I’m sorry about what happened today.”

He’s silent. Slowly but surely sniffles and sobs begin to pour from him again. I immediately feel the twist of guilt in my stomach for being the one to trigger his tears again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I-I can leave if you want some priv–“

His hand reaches behind him and firmly captures my wrist.

“Stay.” He begs in a coarse whisper, the first thing he’s said since we came home. “Please?”

His voice is so cracked and hoarse, if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he was sick.

I falter a second to respond but he must’ve felt the hesitation.

“It helps.” He croaks. “Remember?”

The churn in my chest returns and there’s an ache in my heart that accompanies it. If I could somehow magically take all of this away, I would, even if it meant trading places with him. Even if it meant I’d be the one hurting instead.

I feel so fucking useless, not being able to do much for him.

But at least I can do this.

“Okay.” I respond cautiously and settle further into the bed, now essentially spooned around his body.

His grip on my wrist never left so I let our joined arms rest on his hip. I can’t seem to gather with the right words to say to him, I mean what can you really say after something like that?

So, I offer him the only words that feel suitable.

“I’m not going anywhere, Noah. You know that right?”

There’s a long quiet, so long that I think he may have fallen asleep.

But then he squeezes my wrist.

“Thank you.”

I sense the urge to do something, but I’m not sure how he’ll react. I don’t know, maybe it would help?

I tug at where his hand meets mine and he gives me an upset grumble, like he doesn’t want me to leave.

“I just… is it okay if - can I try something?” I ask shyly, suddenly very nervous, nervous enough to have my heart racing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch his brows furrowing. I can tell he wants to be stubborn and keep me latched there, but curiosity always gets the best of him. He slowly loosens his grip on my wrist.

I didn’t notice that my palms were sweating until I’ve retrieved my hand. I press my lips flat and feel like my ribcage could burst open at any minute from how hard my heart beats against it.

My body is screaming at me to do it and as much as I want to fight it, I can’t.

Maybe it would help

I let my arm go where it wants to go. It slithers beneath the covers and through the space between Noah’s arm and his side. I wrap my arm around his waist and pull flush against him.

We both freeze. My ears grow warm as the hour-long seconds pass.

Maybe he’s uncomfortable

Maybe he thinks this is weird

Maybe it is weird?

Is this weird?

Maybe he doesn’t like it

Maybe I’m making it worse

Maybe–

Unexpectedly, he just melts into me. His body molds into my arms like they were made just for him.

He finds my arm and brings it to his face, pressing his damp, swollen eyes against it. Small sobs fall into my arm and his grip on me is so tight I could turn blue.

Maybe he feels safe, and maybe he just needed to feel safe to let the rest out.

My own eyes well up at the sound of him, at the feeling of his body heaving in my arms. I press my forehead against his shoulder.

“I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’m always gonna be here.” I reassure him again through my own held-back tears.

He wipes his tears off with the collar of his shirt before pulling my arm back around his chest. He nuzzles into me, and I feel my heart swell so big it fills my entire chest.

I think I already know the answer, but I wanna hear it anyway.

“Does this help?”

He lets out a sleepy sigh as he nestles his back into my chest.

“You always help, Nicholas.”

Next Chapter -> 05 - Girl Crush*

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @cryingabtab @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @kingdomof-omens @the-hell-i-overcame @blackveilomens @xxrainstorm [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

a/n; I know this was a heavy one 😅 i'm sorry, i hope you were able to enjoy it regardless.

Thank you for the support on this series and on my other series, Virality. I appreciate it more than you know. I love reading your comments and asks. I am incredibly grateful for them, thank you.

[sugoi-writes]

aaaaaye I edited #25 because I refuse to hear you say any part of your adorable anatomy is not adorable

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

Hazel I'm gonna kick kiss??? your ass GDHDHDHDS HOW DID YOU KNOW

What are your 5 favorite songs rn?

**heavy breathing in Sleep Token** JK, Jk, here is my real answer, my love (one that does not include Ascensionism. Keep in mind my favorites shift around a lot):

Cracker Island - Gorillazs (IDONTCAREIFPEOPLEHATETHEIRNEWSOUND. IMLOVETHEM). THE BASSLINE GOES HARD. I FUCKS WITH IT)

The Loneliest - Måneskin

(THE GUITAR SOLO. ITS SO TRAGIC AND HAUNTING, THE WHOLE SONG. I Honestly think of Autumn and Alastor to it sometimes ((Yes yes, Autumn from A Doe in Fall, yes~ I just KNOW we are about to get hit where it HURTS))

Long Nights - Eddie Vedder

(I LOVE LOVE Into The Wild ((the book and movie)), and... GOSH this song soothes me in a way that is almost INSTANT. I'm talking livid tears and self destruction to catatonic. On my bad days, this song gets me to sleep. It's an Earthy song that reminds me that I'm just a person and to go Touch Grass). Could also be a good Alastor song, too, imo. Him just... Being comfortable with Long Nights, and just getting the chance to be himself when he's alone. Gdshhsjs EVERYTHING IS ALASTOR CODED IF YOU TRY HARD ENOUGH???

Never Meant to Know - Tally Hally

(for similar reasons as the song before; but also reminds me of one of my D&D characters!)

Danny Don't You Know - Ninja Sex Party

(HIGE dweeb/fan of NSP. This song is also just... Personal for me and wifey. It's a moral booster. Ever since I've been going by my preferred name, it just gets me more in the feels ❤️)

Do you believe in luck and miracles?

I believe in... Hmm. How do I explain this... There's kind of a balance with the world? Equal weights of good and bad. I believe that putting good energy into the world always comes back to you somehow, but also, on that same hand, no matter how hard someone tries, the bad luck has to come back eventually. Life embs and flows, and we can't always have it good... The world just balances things back out sometimes? Ex: For every 3 good things, 3 bad things will happen. It never has to be major or anything, but like... It could be as mundane as 'I found 5 bucks in my pocket!' to 'I spilled coffee on myself'. This isn't related at all to your question FYCK MEgdhdhdhdb

Luck... Yes, luck certainly exists. Some people come by it more honestly. Some people just stumble face first into it. I also believe there are just some people who are so devastatingly unlucky. I always try to work for what I got, but you'll still find me picking up pennies when Heads is facing up. I'm always looking for a lil bit of luck (and avoiding bad luck).

Miracles, well, the fact that Earth and life on Earth exists is a miracle in itself. It's also a miracle we haven't all killed each other yet. So life is fragile, but by golly, we are lucky and fortunate to be here. Space is weird. ❤️

Do you think there is life on other planets?

I would believe it! Small organisms, plants, and similar things for sure... But, in the infinite expanse of our galaxy, there's GOTTA be a handful of idiots like us who don't know what they're doing. Or even better, an alternate reality of here (which would be neat). Hi Alternate Me!

Favorite part of my daily routine

TMI, but taking my fucking bra off. I can't wait for a possible future where I may not have to worry about that. But, aside from that, Robin, who usually makes us dinner. Shes a really good cook, imo ❤️ And, well, it's nice to see her smile when I tell her she's doing a really good job.

What part of my body am I most comfortable with

I think 'eyes' is a cop-out, so I'll go ahead and say my hair. I really do enjoy the way it is rn. It's softer, much curlier and healthier than a few years ago... BUT I definitely want to redye it to a funky color soon, haha. But if I had to say most LIKED, it would definitely be my eyes. Lmao

Probably fair you don't ask the inverse of that question, because you would be SOOOO cross with me, hehe ❤️

--

Expect similar questions asked to you, Pookie Bear 🫡❤️

[bp4545]

Tightrope (Angst to Fluff)

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: There is a little bit of swearing, also mentions of intoxication/being under the influence. This is based on the song 'Tightrope' from The Greatest showman. I got inspiration from it, there will be lyrics of it through the story.

Summary: You and Draco have been happily married, and you have a son and twin daughters. Draco has important business to attend to at the Theatrical Hall in Muggle London, when you see on the Daily Prophet, a picture of Draco kissing an unknown woman.

---

Some people long for a life that is simple and planned Tied with a ribbon Some people won't sail the sea 'cause they're safer on land To follow what's written But I'd follow you to the great unknown Off to a world we call our own

You looked at your three children from the kitchen to the living room. You smiled as you saw Scorpius with his blonde head of hair watching some cartoon on the TV, and your two girls taking turn braiding each others hair. Scorpius took after his father, icy blue eyes, white blonde hair, but he had your smile, and he had your kind loving heart. Your two girls on the other hand, had your (hair colour) hair, and your sweet personality, but unfortunately took after Draco's signature cold stare. You chuckled as the two girls started fighting over knots in each others hair. You learnt to leave them be, they make up in the span of seconds.

You thought back to you and Draco's life, all the wonderful bonds the two of you built way back at your life at Hogwarts. You and Draco took quite the risk back then, you two loved each other until the end of time, but fate just didn't allow that, it denied at every chance, whether it was Draco's parents, to your own insecurity, to other girls seeking the attention of your boyfriend because of this social status. 

That was one thing that always bothered you in your relationship, you didn't trust other women around him. You had learnt the hard way one day when you caught a woman flirting with him at one of his business photoshoots, and you could tell Draco didn't appreciate the attention and tried to get her to back off, but she didn't seem to get the hint. You laughed as you remembered walking up to him to save him by linking arms with him and looking the girl dead in the eyes, she looked at you skeptically before you not so discreetly flashed your hand at her, a silver engagement ring adorned on your delicate fingers. She immediately walked away in embarrassment.

Nothing for you and Draco was ever perfect, but you knew that as long as you oved each other, you didn't need a whole life planned out. You would follow him wherever he went, with full trust, because that's just how your life with Draco was, unpredictable, and you loved it. You were happy and that was all that mattered. 

Hand in my hand And we promised to never let go We're walking a tightrope High in the sky We can see the whole world down below We're walking a tightrope                                                                               

Never sure, never know how far we could fall But it's all an adventure That comes with a breathtaking view Walking a tightrope

A tightrope. That's exactly how you would describe your life with Draco. A straight line, a destination, but a whole lot of risk and mixed emotions along the way. It would mean balance, , a balance between maintaining the kids and a balance a balance between work and home. The latter was still a struggle for you and Draco, he was always off at work lately, for some new things he has released in his company. 

Right now he was hosting a party in Muggle London, the Theatrical Hall, for his new success in his company. You were so happy for him, sure, but you wished he wasn't so occupied so he could spend time with you and your little family. But soon he would be home, he would be there for you to fall into his arms, he would be there to catch you if you fell. 

Just then you heard the door open, and keys jingling. It was only about 8 pm. The party surely should have gone until midnight? Why was he home so early, though you weren't complaining. 

"DADDY!" Your two girls yelled in excitement. Scorpius whipped his head around and a huge smile was on his face as he looked at his father. You took a look at Draco, he looked a bit flustered. The girls attacked his legs.

"Hey my darlings" he chuckled at the two of them, and picked them up in each arm peppering them in kisses. Then he looked at you, your apron still on from cooking dinner, and he quickly put the girls down and rushed up to you. You looked at him confused, and he grabbed you by your waist and kissed you deeply, a hint of desperation. You kissed back and heard an 'ew' from Scorpius and 'aww's' from your girls, you chuckled and pulled away from him.

"Why are you home so early? Don't you have a party to run?" you questioned him, clearly confused.

"Missed you" he mumbled into your neck as he hugged you tightly. You were a taken aback by his confession, as you held him, there was no way he ditched his party to come home just because he 'missed you'.

You took his word for it. 

The five of you watched a movie, then you put the kids to bed and got into bed with Draco. He was being way too affectionate since he got home. Maybe he had seen his parents at the party and decided to go home? Something seemed off.  About the way he was holding you protectively around your waist in your sleep, about the way he kissed you, it wasn't just love and desperation. You sensed... guilt.

Mountains and valleys, and all that will come in between Desert and ocean You pulled me in and together we're lost in a dream Always in motion So I risk it all just to be with you And I risk it all for this life we choose

You woke up the next morning, Draco's arms trapping you against him.

"Draco darling please let me go, I need to check on the kids" you groaned, your morning voice a bit croaky. He just hummed in response, with his deep morning voice, raspy but attractive. He loosened his arms and you got out of bed to go into the kitchen. 

"Morning loves" you go to tickle your children as you see them watching SpongeBob on the TV.  

"Hi mommyyy" your girls reply in unison. Scorpius however was looking at you with an odd expression, one you couldn't quite read. 

"Mommy I need to tell you something" He told you, and gestured you to come to where he was sitting. You weren't sure what he wanted to discuss, but it got you worried, because Scorp was never one to talk to you about his feelings, he was shy and mature for his age(9), but he was really making you worry this time.

"You know the newspaper that comes every morning" He said, and you nodded, as you knew he was referring to The Daily Prophet. "Mommy you have to read it, I don't know what's happening". 

Now you were really worried.

What was going on? You walked to the dining table and picked up the newspaper, and right on the front was a picture. A picture of Draco at the party event last night, kissing a woman. Her arms draped around his neck, and the worst part was she looked gorgeous, beautiful even, you looked like a rock compared to this gem of a woman.

The headlines read 'Draco Malfoy and Violet McDowell: Are they official?'. You were furious at these people, were they mad? Did they not know that Draco had a wife and three god damn children before they put such a headline.

You were more angry at Draco. He was cheating. Knowing full well that he had a family waiting for him at home. You wanted to break down and cry, but for the sake of staying strong for your children, you remained calm. 

"Mommy are you okay?" Scorp asked grabbing around your leg. You had tears in your eyes, how could Draco sabotage the wonderful life you two have created.

"Mommy's okay darling" you choked on your tears "Daddy seems to have found someone else he loves."

You couldn't hold back the tears anymore, you cried, catching the attention of your twin girls. 

"Mommy what's wrong" they asked, and you sat down as they hopped on your lap. Scorpius put his finger over his mouth as if to shush the two girls, and he showed them the paper. 

"Daddy loves someone else mommy said" He pointed at his father kissing another woman and the two girls gasped.

"Scorp. Don't show them that love, they don't need to know about it" you told him, you didn't want your children to think of Draco badly, it wasn't his fault he fell out of love with you.

You cried for a bit as your children tried to comfort you, with small hugs, and little kisses. You loved them so much, until your very last breath, you just wished Draco loved you the same way.

Hand in my hand And you promised to never let go We're walking a tightrope High in the sky We can see the whole world down below We're walking a tightrope Never sure, will you catch me if I should fall?

"Y/n? Love what's wrong" Draco walked into the kitchen area to see you with puffy eyes, crying with all three of your kids sitting on your lap and on the table. You didn't say anything to him, you had nothing to say. It was self explanatory, Draco just didn't see you the same way he did all those years ago, he had lost the love, he had let go of your hand, you were falling, always depending on him, to catch you, if you ever fell. 

His eyes travelled down to the table, as he looked at the Daily Prophet, his eyes went wide as he panicked. He looked at you, guilt, fear, and tears flooded in his eyes. 

"Y/n, I- I promise it's not what it looks like. I can- I can explain" He said, his voice breaking, his shirt was off, and he was still in his bedhead state. You looked at him, the same tears flowing down your eyes. 

"No Draco. Not in front of the kids, they don't deserve to hear that" You stated. You stood up and told your kids to go watch TV or play, and you walked to you and Draco's bedroom.  He looked like he had gone through 8 stages of grief. he kept opening his mouth, as if to say something, but he just didn't know where to start. Of course he wasn't cheating on you, why would he ever, how could he ever. He didn't know what to tell you first, he was to scared to lose you, to let go of you. 

"Care to explain" you said, you felt numb.

"I- y/n, you know I would never cheat on you" he said, voice shaky as he gently grabbed your hands that were by your side. You were quick to pull them out of his grasp, and he looked hurt that you didn't trust him to hold you. 

"Draco how do I know that? How would I fucking know. You're never here, you always have 'work', the kids hardly see you anymore, for all I know you could be screwing your secretary! I don't even know if that's the first time you've ever kissed that woman! If you fell out of love with me why didn't you just tell me?" You were exasperated at him, you realised how much trust you put in him, how much trust he had broken. 

Draco was hurt, he was hurt that you would ever think that he would do such things with someone else other than you. Before he met you, he had been that kind of person, the kind who struggled to commit, the kind who would play around with girls and break their hearts in the end. He would never have thought he would change to be the person he is now, but he did change, because of you. You were his anchor, you drew him in, you made him feel like he belonged somewhere. He loved you, there was no doubt. He could never imagine having what he has with you, with anyone else, he couldn't imagine waking up next to a different head of hair, or walking down the aisle with a different arm linked around his, or staring into a different pair of eyes when he said I love you, he couldn't.

You watched different emotions flood through his eyes as he looked at you with a soft gaze. He didn't want to scare you away, no, that was the last thing he wanted. He took a deep breath and held your hands again, this time you didn't pull back.

"Y/n" he said, "Y/n you know I love you, you know I would never cheat on you!" he wanted to yell, he wanted to scream at you, how much he loved you, how he didn't want you to leave. He was scared, because he knew you would think the worst, he knew you would be hurt, and it made him feel horrible that he was the one making you feel hurt. "A-At the event yesterday, I arrived and got a bit tipsy" he admitted. "I was greeting everyone at the party and this woman came up to me, I don't even remember her name-" his voice failed him as his crying wouldn't cease.

"Violet McDowell" You stated. He looked into your eyes, filled with all kinds of hurt, anger, he just wanted to pull you into him, and whisper in your ear that he loves you, he wanted to beg you to stay, because he was so scared you would just leave.

"Yes." he said in a small voice "Her." he stopped to catch his breath as he squeezed your hands bit tighter. "She came up to me and started conversation, then the cameras came up to us and we smiled for the photos, when she grabbed me by the neck and kissed me. Y/n I promise I didn't kiss her back, I never kissed her first, I would never. " He was crying now and holding you by your waist as the two of you cried into each others shoulders. 

"Then why didn't you tell me Draco" you said quietly. You couldn't be mad at him, even if you weren't 100% sure he was telling the truth. You couldn't be mad at him when he was crying, desperate for your embrace. He pulled away and looked at you with tear filled eyes. 

"I- I didn't know how I could tell you without you getting upset. When she kissed me it felt so wrong, I felt so disgusted at her, and myself for being naïve enough to let that happen. I quickly just left the party and wanted to get back home to you and the kids, I didn't think it would be in the Newspaper, I'm so sorry my love" He started crying into your shoulder again, whispering ''I'm sorry'', and "I love you" over and over again. You sighed and looked at him, you had been with him for so long, you knew when he was lying. You ran your hands through his hair and he gripped onto you tighter, loving the way your touch felt so right on his skin.

"I love you too Draco." You said quietly and he pulled away to smile at you. 

God he loved you. You were too trusting, too good for him, he didn't know why you put up with him all these years, stood by him at the worst of times. He loved you until his last breath, and he would never stop. He didn't deserve your love, but he was oh so grateful for it, he felt like he was the luckiest man in the world when he was in your arms. 

Well, it's all an adventure That comes with a breathtaking view Walking a tightrope

He knew as he held you, that a love like yours would take more than that to tear it apart. Your love was a tightrope, the two of you were in it together, no matter what risks, as long as he held onto you tight enough, your love could never die. He knows that as the sun sets, and the clouds rise, the love he feels for you, the ache in his heart, it will never go away for as long as he lives. He knows, that no matter what, he will catch you, if you should fall. It's all an adventure for him, and it comes with a breathtaking view. He's walking a tightrope, and everything will be okay.

With you.

---

a/n: I didn't really like the way I ended this one ahaha. It was kind of difficult to close it off but hopefully the fic was still okay:)

[quillyfied]

There’s a thought percolating in my head about the role of revenge (not our fine ladyship, the real concept) in OFMD. Because to my knowledge, very nearly every instance of it has been hollow or toxic in the long term.

Jim killing Alfeo de la Vaca? Good. Cathartic. But also put them and Olu on the run from Jackie. And their failure to follow through on the rest of the Siete Gallos put them on the outs with Nana. And trying to follow through took them away from Olu. Necessarily, bc Jim needed that conversation with Spanish Jackie to learn to prioritize and let go of a likely impossible revenge quest that would have eaten them alive, but that’s the point: it wasn’t what was most important to Jim anymore to have closure and move forward with life. Cut to season 2 where Jim makes the hard call with killing Ed, and two episodes later they and the rest of the Kraken’s crew are still trying to scrub what they did from the deck.

The Badmintons’ deaths were well deserved and one might even say boons to society, but Stede was still very torn up about them. Neither of them were revenge killings, but Stede would have been within his rights to seek that from them. He didn’t. He just wanted to be left alone, and even in death the Badmintons tormented him (Chauncey arguably more than Nigel, even sans stress-induced ghost hallucination). In a practical way, though, Stede’s one act of vengeance, sending the remaining sailor back to the navy ship with his hands tied to the oars and Nigel’s body wrapped in a cat flag, does land them all in hot water later as linking the Revenge to Nigel’s death in a more concrete way than just eyewitness testimony. (And his attempt at threatening the French captain—he’ll be forced to unleash his vengeance, which will be QUITE UNPLEASANT for the both of them, the vengeancer, and the vengeancee. Stede knew even then that violence for violence’s sake wasn’t for him.)

Izzy…I almost think I don’t need to go there, as self-evident as it is, but I’m on a roll so let’s do it: Izzy has Caroline Bingley levels of his actions coming back around to bite him squarely in the behind. He tries to throw Ed off his interest in Stede, just makes Ed more intrigued. Tries to duel Stede and kill him, loses the duel and gets thrown off the ship. Sends in the British Navy, Ed still chooses Stede over safety (in Izzy’s mind, let it be said). Tries to force Ed back into Blackbeard, triggers a vortex of despair and suicidal intent that costs him two toes and one leg more than Izzy was maybe prepared to give (pretty sure he considered the first toe fair). And in season 2, when he decides to help the crew, it clearly weighs on him, how heavy the loss of Blackbeard is to him (and him alone). He doesn’t even get the fight with Stede that he’s angling for after the fact to try and maybe make himself feel better, or at least more balanced, because Stede isn’t interested in that. His every attempt to either course correct back to normal or take pot shots at what he thinks ruined his normal comes back squarely on his shoulders. It doesn’t work. None of it does.

Spanish Jackie selling Jim out to the Spanish Navy? Doesn’t work. Chauncey Badminton trying a multitude of ways to make Stede pay? Doesn’t work. The Swede attempting to stab Roach in the very first episode for stealing some of his fabric? Doesn’t work, and scolded for it to boot. Revenge is not how they do things on The Revenge.

There are outliers, like Stede bringing down the party boat for laughing at Ed. Fully deserved, zero consequences, a romantic evening had by all. Calico Jack taking a cannonball to the chest for what he did to Karl: masterful, still the funniest standoff scene ever filmed. But other things—the crew taking down the Kraken and still being scarred not just by how it was during that reign of terror, but by how it ended, and the guilt over it; Lucius pushing Ed off the boat and feeling elation but it still not being enough to make him feel better or healed; all the many fruitless ways Ed tries to kill Hornigold in the gravy basket—it isn’t the answer. Not the whole answer. Not the whole remedy.

I look forward to the rest of the season to see how this hypothesis continues to prove out (or not), but. Something about the irony of calling a ship Revenge and having a work culture that is anything but. Just adds to the patient, quiet way this show is showing people on the fringes that they’re not only worthy of love but capable of it, too.

(…oh NO we’re probably losing the ship at the end of this season, aren’t we ;A; )

[megalizardlesbian]

DSAF Rift Party AU: Ouija

(This will be all writing because I’m not good at drawing a lot of things, and have to draw everything on paper, so it’s much easier to write for big things like this, however most things for this in the future will be drawn. @dsaf-rift-party-au )

The whole group is hanging around Peter and Caroline’s house, all battered and bruised from a recent fight.

Henry had been trying to catch and kill them for 12 years now, ever since he had come back and taken over the company. He had even made a special phone guy variant for this very purpose.

They had lost many people in the fight so far, only Dave, Jack, Peter, Steven, Dee and Caroline remained alive.

“Look I don’t want to be the one to say it, but none of you are going to, so fine, we can’t win this. No matter what we do, or who is on our side, it’s only a matter of time. We need to surrender.” Caroline insists.

“I am NEVER surrendering to that bastard, not after all he’s done.” Jack hisses. Or well, whatever that thing is now after the springlock accident, he didn’t really act like himself at all after that. His expression changes. “Listen, we just need to find Blackjack. He’ll weaken Henry so-“

“That won’t work, and you know it. If Blackjack stood a chance against Henry this wouldn’t be happening at all, if he stood a chance he’d be here, if he stood a chance, he’d have killed Henry long ago, if he stood a chance, Henry never would have got out. Blackjack is just as weak as the rest of us, if not more so.”

“Blackjack can open portals!” Dee tries.

“DAVE can open portals.”

“Only in the flipside… I think. But it’s in the spare room.”

“The flipside is useless.” Jack states.

“You could just talk to Fredbear.”

“Fredbear is useless.” Jack snarls, he hates talking about Fredbear, they all know it.”

“So you agree then. Nothing can be done.” 

“I will NEVER surrender.”

“And see how that’s worked out for us. Steven has gone insane. Peter is rusting. Dee is losing cotton at a catastrophic rate. Dave wouldn’t even BE HERE if you didn’t convince him to take our side. Your refusal to give up has already killed 6 people.”

“Watch it-“

The door swings open, a team of Henry’s Battle Phones charge into the room and restrain everyone. 

In comes the man himself, pulling a muzzled Blackjack on a leash, the dog snarling at every moment. Fog behind to seep in.

“Well well well… it seems I have finally located the place you freaks have been hiding out.” The old man hisses through his teeth. “I must congratulate you, you have managed to elude me all this time. But it’s all over now, I-“

The room fills with fog and everyone falls unconscious.

.

.

.

Jack awakens in a forest, leaning against a tree, he can’t see his own hands due to the thick fog.

He feels around and panics, Dave isn’t here. Fuck.

He needs to find him, fast. He doesn’t care what happens to anyone else, he can unpack why that is later.

“DAVE!!!!” He yells. “DAVE WHERE ARE YOU?!” 

He waits a moment and hears Dave in the distance calling out to him. Jack jumps to his feet, calling Dave’s name, and runs to the voice.

He trips over Dee’s body as he runs, awakening the puppet.

“DEE!” 

“Whuhh… what’s… wait where are we?! What happened!?”

“I don’t fucking know, I’m just trying to find Dave.”

Dee looks as annoyed as she can with such a static mask. “So you were ONLY looking for Dave?”

“…No?”

“Sure you weren’t.” Dee tries to get up, but finds she can’t levitate.

“Well, looks like I’m stuck on the ground for now.”

“OLD FUCK WHERE ARE YOU?!” Dave yells in annoyance, likely due to being ignored.

Jack starts running towards the voice, Dee following as best she can, having a hard time balancing.

Jack almost bounds right into a lake as he runs, but stops just in time.

He can see more now, able to make out Dave’s figure on a small island, he seems to be pinned to the ground by a rock over his leg.

“Jack… it looks really deep.” Dee says, she knows she can’t stop him, but she can try. “I don’t even think it’s water, it looks more like tar.”

Jack steps into the liquid, it’s sticky and seems to be dragging him down. 

Dee sighs in frustration. She hears Steven’s voice nearby, and looks to see him in a tree, he’s shoving leaves into the cracks in his phone.

“STEVEN WHAT THE H-“

“Round and round all over again, each day brings us closer to the end. 

Here is where it started. Here we shall meet our doom.”

“Where what started I-“

Steven laughs and leaps from the tree, landing painfully on his side, more cracks form on his head.

“STEVEN!” The puppet shouts, concerned, the man is still laughing.

“It doesn’t matter… we’re all going to die.” The phone laughs madly.

Dee looks over to her brother, he’s almost submerged in the tar-like substance.

Jack manages to grip onto a rock, with some effort he pulls himself from the tar and starts trying to free Dave’s leg, the purple man trying to keep his screams down as he does this.

Eventually he manages to free Dave’s leg, but it’s definitely broken.

Thinking fast, Dee starts punching and kicking a tree with all her might, it starts to splinter but it’s not enough. Steven hands her an axe. She decides it’s best not to think about why he has it.

She starts chopping the tree and continues until it falls, creating a makeshift bridge.

Jack nods and picks up Dave, starting to tiptoe over the bridge. He eventually makes it to the other side.

“We need to find the others and get home.” Dee insists.

“What do we do about that crazy fucker?” Dave asks, gesturing to Steven, picking off leaves and sticks and stuffing them into his own body.

“…how strong is your neck?”

.

.

.

The group walks through the fog, calling out the others names. Dave’s neck is wrapped around Steven like a boa constrictor.

Eventually they find Caroline in a ditch. It’s too deep for them to reach, not to mention that she’s engaged in a fight with Henry.

Caroline is losing. Badly.

Dee picks up a rock and throws it at Henry, causing the man to lose focus.

Unexpectedly, Caroline picks up a large branch and whacks Henry with it repeatedly, not giving him any time to recover.

Eventually she throws him into a pool of tar and he begins to sink as everyone watches, dumbfounded.

Dee is the first to speak. “WOOOOO! GO CAROLINE!” She shouts. “I GOT A COOL SISTER IN LAW!”

They use Dave’s neck as a rope to help her climb up.

“Where’s Peter.” She asks immediately.

“We don’t know. We don’t even know where we are.”

Caroline nods and starts walking with them.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Dee asks.

“Not important.” 

“I’d say it’s pretty important if you won’t tell us.” Jack argues.

“Fine. I learned it in prison.”

“WHAT.” Dee asks.

“When I was in my 20s I robbed a couple banks with some of my friends in college. I never ended up graduating.”

“Peter told me you also killed a guy.” Jack states.

“Well I didn’t want to include that fact, now did I?”

“YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS?!” Dee demands.

“Dee, every single member of our family has only ever dated felons. We just didn’t tell you because you were too young.”

“WHAT?!”

“I mean it goes as far back as our great grandparents, probably further that’s just all I know.”

“WHY IS THIS A THING!?”

“Because we’re hot.” Dave says, smirking.

“AUGH! I’M NEVER DATING ANYONE.”

Everyone laughs at her, well maybe not everyone as Steven just seems to be laughing in general.

Blackjack silently emerges from the dark in front of them. “Aolyl fvb hyl. P dhz aopurpun fvb ohk hss kplk. Dl ohcl illu dhpapun xbpal hdopsl.” The dog says. They can’t understand a word he says, but he turns in a way it’s clear he wants them to follow.

.

.

.

Eventually the group comes to a clearing, a small area not entirely covered in fog with lit torches.

In the middle of the clearing sits a well, atop the well is a small, blonde teenaged girl with a single visible eye, it’s pupil slitted, she sits barefoot, revealing clawed, hand like feet, as she talks to Peter.

“Sorry ‘bout the rust by the way, just thought it would be cool.” The girl says.

“I uhh… it’s fine.” Peter says, seeming very uncomfortable. He notices them. “Hey, there you are! Blackjack was taking a long time to get back.”

“What’s going on, who is this? She’s kinda… creepy.” Jack says, shuddering as he locks eyes with the creepy woman.

“Her name is Ouija… she’s kinda… some kind of god who messed with our timeline for fun and brought Henry back.”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah sorry about that by the way, I just wanted to know what would happen.” The girl says. “Anyway, since you’re all here now, I gotta say, you’re really not supposed to be. See this is my home dimension, a place I like to call Crawlspace. It’s kinda like a hub in which I can access hundreds of timelines. I’m the only thing ever supposed to be here. But something put something here that wasn’t supposed to be and when I touched it shit started going crazy with my powers, now there are portals everywhere and I can’t stop opening them, probably why I accidentally brought you guys here too. I’m sure this thing is trying to trap me. Really don’t like that.” The girl complains.

Giant hands emerge from the ground and grab everyone. “So anyway I thought I’d test what happens by putting you guys in one! Sorry about this again by the way, it’s for science!” 

Everyone is shoved into a massive rift.

“Ah, peace and quiet fi- ah shit.” Ouija notices another portal has opened up under her.

(Note: DW everyone, Evil Capitalist Henry is not dead. Also they would have gotten their invite had Ouija not accidentally fucked everything up first.)

Dave’s leg is broken

Henry is not present

Steven is insane

Peter is rusting

Ouija is some kind of weird inter dimensional sociopath.

No one trusts this situation.

[gwydionmisha]

Personal: This Person Just Uncleaned My Apartment

I think I need to tell you about the Cleaner, because OMG, but for that you will need context on my pain/meds situation.

So less pain does not remotely equal no pain.  My hip joints were a mess Wednesday, and only a little better Thursday.  My shoulder joints, and thus my arms, started to go bad Thursday.  The fundamental things wrong with my body aren't fixable, but the new meds are doing a stellar job on what I think of as the secondary pain, IE: everything else not joint or tendon or in their immediate vicinity.  It is far more effective than the muscle relaxants I've been using for decades at this since it's hitting the nerves and not just the muscles.  It also adds to the tired.  So much to the tired.  Bonus: on the new dose, I get dizzy if I don't rest enough, and the heart palpitations hit longer and harder when they hit.

Dramatically better means for an extreme chronic pain/chronic illness perspective, not from a remotely healthy person's perspective, if you follow.  I was into about a month of unbearable torment when we tried the one pill dosage.  I'm still not sure my system can handle the two pills, and I plan to stick to this dose.  They are supposed to last eight hours, but I get an extra four hours of partial coverage per pill, and like I said the side effects are scaling up on me.

So right now my balance sucks, I'm exhausted, and my shoulder joints scream at me if I try to do anything remotely strenuous with them, you follow?

So far I've had four different cleaners turn up, two of them twice.  Three of those are hard and thorough workers.  One of those will not wear her mask.  I put up with it because I am wearing mine and turn on all the fans and I'm scared if I don't take her, no one will come.  (see five skipped cleaning appointments in a row).

Cleaning is a hard fucking job and they are underpaid, get no benefits, no set hours, and have to pay their own travel costs including for the ferry if they are coming from the reservation and that is a lot of gas.  I respect cleaners.  I've done it, after all, amoung the many shit jobs I had over the years.  I trust them to know what they are doing.  This has been the case in three instances.  Most of the conversation with those three cleaners has been things like: Where does this go?  Where is (whatever) kept?  What should i do next?  I refuse to micro manage.  In my experience, micro managing is dramatically less efficient and just insults the person doing the job.  I know I hated it, when I was the person being micro-managed.  This works great for Goth Millennial and for the other three cleaners on the other four occasions.

I'm sure you are sensing the big but here.

So the cleaner who came today, turned up the other time she was here high as a kite.  I don't mean a little buzzed, which is fairly normal in this town and this state.  Weed's been legal here for ages.  People with shitty service jobs occasionally come to work a schootch high.  It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things if, say, your barista's a little buzzed.  I don't partake myself for a host of reasons, but most of my friends since... I'm going to say 1985, have/do.  A little high is no big deal.

Orbiting Pluto without a suit is.  She was way out of it girl at a party who's friends have to watch her like a hawk high.  She was barely coherent high.  She drove here.  O.o.  She drove home.  This terrifies me.  after some consultation with my friends including them seeing the mess she made and me acting out vignettes, our best guess is she must have dramatically misjudged an edible.  (It had to be vape or edible.  I would have smelled smoke.  Edible makes the most sense for both the degree of Jesus fuck high and the thinking she was fine when she left home, but waaaay not fine when she got here.  Surely she would have cancelled otherwise, right?).

So basically instead of my working away at the aggregate or tumblr queue programming or whatever, it was a lot like baby sitting a toddler who would not shut up, only the toddler would make more sense and the mess would have likely been confined to things in a toddler's reach.  I had to go around after she left and actually use the forbidden to me for safety reasons ladder to save a bunch of my cups and glasses from the accident I could see happening the second Squirrel opened a dish cupboard because he had jammed them in their so precariously that the door was the only thing preventing them falling.  Goth Millennial came the next day and had to take everything out and restack it.  I could live with the fitted sheet being inside out, so we left that for today.

I did not turn her in to the asshole agency because 1. worker solidarity.  I never went to work on a substance, but I've worked so, so many shit jobs and the Asshole Agency is terrible.  2. I was pretty sure it was a mistake involving an edible. 3. I was big on giving people another chance when I was teaching.  On fuck up shouldn't lat for ever unless that fuck up was malicious or really damaging to other people.

Well, fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice shame on me.

No, she was not noticeably high this time, though I couldn't rule a mild buzz out.  She also had a shamefaced and subdued demeanor that clearly told me she knew how badly she'd fucked up last time.  She said she'd signed up for me on purpose instead of her other option because I was really nice to her and my apartment was full of interesting things to look at while she cleaned.  My apartment is full of interesting things to look at and I suspect she liked me because I was consistently kind to her when she was a mess last time and hadn’t turned her in.   She really is sweet and nice and she is clearly trying her best but not remotely the sharpest tool in the shed.  Which can be fine.  I've known a lot of good workers over the years with significant developmental or accident related challenges and they did fine.  She wasn't in that category, but I realized she'd need extra supervision compared to the others.  I underestimated how much.

She did walk right up to Tavy and start petting him right away like last time which again confused and alarmed him.  Sure, Squirrel and I and a couple of the Millennials can do that because we are his particular friends, but he barely knows her and and she would NOT stop doing that last time no matter how many times I told her he was a biter and apt to maul when he was worked up.  I was so proud of him because he did not attack her the first three times, and honestly the forth time, I would have bitten her too in his place.  

Tavy was noticeably wary of her.  He did want to watch what she was doing, but he remembered her.  (By contrast, the other cleaners he'd watch from a distance for a while, and then follow around and in a couple cases, get me to pick him up so he could get a better look.  He really took to the GNC person who came once, and kept sniffing their legs).  He did let her pet him without biting her, and she was together enough to stop when I told her he was down, and leave him alone for the rest of the two hours when I said he was in a mood to hang out and watch but not interact.

I got her through the linen change okay and last time she was so high she forgot we had a dishwasher after she'd emptied it and it took her most of her shift except the linen change, but the dishes looked and smelled clean, so I set her to that and did not remotely supervise her enough.  This I did not discover until evening, but we'll get to that.

Then I set her to sweep and mop, which... Like I've worked a lot of restaurant jobs, often with people in a supported worker with severe intellectual challenges.  I've never seen one who'd been doing it for years who couldn't do it correctly.  She said she'd been doing this for several years.

Assuming makes an ass out of me, doesn't it?

Oh gods the mess she made!  I should have known it was too hard for her when she started prepping for mopping before sweeping.  So I told her to sweep first, which she did.  I told her to dump the water in the sink, not the tub, which turned out to be very, very lucky.  (The tub is the most expensive thing I own.  A city program that remodels for elderly and disabled people paid for it.  I will never be able to afford to fix or replace it.  There are super strict cleaning directions for a reason, because the mechanism is delicate.)  I told her to use the liquid all purpose cleaner under the sink.  I should have got it out and prepped the bucket myself, but bending hurts and I was exhausted and dizzy and my arm situation was deteriorating.  I should have done it anyway, because this is So.  Much.  Worse.

She used a ton of water.  Like way, way to much water in a way that suggested she did not wring the mop and/or she was dumping puddles out of the bucket.  It was a terrifying fall risk situation because this was the end of her shift and I really really needed to get ready for bed as soon as she left and forage delivery was late so I had to go drag it in, just as I'd given up and settled into bed.  So I'm dizzy with unreliable legs, using both hands and going careful back and forth over this swamp of a floor with a weird gritty, soapy texture.  Which is... not what you want in a cleaner for elderly and disabled people.  I could fall and end up in the hospital under those conditions.  And it;'s not like I could want a couple hours for it to dry.  There was no point in washing my feet in the bathroom, so I kept using wipes on them before getting into bed.

Then I woke up to pee and realized just how bad it really was.  *head desk*  My best guess is she used Ajax, which is stored under a bookshelf in the bathroom, not under the sink.  Like a TON of Ajax.  The kitchen sink and nearby counter was caked with it and the floor was tacky and gritty and full of muddy footprints.  I couldn't leave it like that.  I cleaned the sink.  I took the other mop with the disability friendly easy to wring it out attachment which had been to complicated for her head and wet mopped it all again, frequently rinsing and wringing it out, until my arms basically gave out and I had to wash up and take a nap.

It's still incredibly dirty.  I feel like crying, because I can't feel clean unless my feet are.  I've been skating around on damp towels, but though my hip joints are a lot better this evening, I wear out fast and it hurts quite a bit if I do it too much.  I hate leaving a terrible mess like this for the millennial, but I simply can't mop any more with these arms.  I'd have been so much better off giving her something else to do, but I couldn't think of anything else simple enough for her, and I know from last time she will not leave early no matter how much I tell her she can just clock out at the end of the hour.

At this point I was debating what to do.  I had settled on calling Monday and asking them to put her on my no list without giving a reason, because I simply can't go through this again.  It's too hard on my body and it's incredibly could seriously injure me dangerous.

Then I went to feed the Empress Livia and discovered something worse.

I'm medically fragile.  Amoung so many other things, I have an immune system that is far more interested in own goals than fighting pathogens.  I can and will catch anything you expose me too.  Anything.  I also have a dicey digestive system.  Anything I use to prepare food or eat or drink needs to be really fucking clean. We prewash for grease and stuck on food then run them through the washer to make sure the soap and anything else is off.  yes, I know this is bad for the environment as it uses extra water, but it’s a serious safety issue for me.

I was very, very clear on directions because I remembered last time.  “Wash the dishes and then put the in the dishwasher.  The dishes in there are dirty, so don’t put them away.  I will run the washer after you leave.”  Did she do that?  No.  Were the dishes cleaned and dried, which would be reasonably acceptable as an alternative?  No.  They were jammed in with the clean dishes, soaking wet and covered in soap bubbles six or seven hours after she left.  We'll have to go through all the pans tomorrow.  I pulled the pans and dishes I remembered were in the sink yesterday.  I have no way of guessing with the glasses and flatware and I don't know which things Squirrel put in there.  

I am exhausted and I hurt and I've been pushed way past the limit of what my body can handle in a day and I can't trust my dishes or the glass I'm drinking out of and I can't get the dirty Ajax grit off my feet.  I'm going to go take a bath, but my feet will be dirty again the second I touch the floor.

She's another poor person.  I feel like a class traitor just putting her on my no list, but she could theoretically kill an elderly person with her mopping, and I can't decide if I should say something, because anything I do will be a terrible option.

This person literally uncleaned my apartment.  I just....

Look, I know it’s a free service, but this is so very much worse than when they don’t send anyone.

[muertarte]

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @bookofbolden, Los Sombras, @muertarte

SUMMARY: Hearing a knock on the door, Eleanor opens it, thinking it would be Metzli. She's startled to find it's actually a hostile group of vampires and tells her friend to stay away. They don't listen.

WARNINGS: None

Metzli had made a visit to the apartment Sylvia was keeping an eye on. Girlfriend, perhaps? No wait, the girlfriend was the shop owner, and she wasn’t on the vampire’s list of people to interrogate. Not that she actually had a list. Could one have a list with a single item? She supposed, maybe. A to-do list was everything one had to do, and if she only had one thing to…Focus Sylvia. 

“I’ll knock. She’s a woman. More likely to trust me, instead of…you three.” Looking them up and down, Sylvia grimaced. The rest of the group was perfectly capable of taking down a single human, but their particular mission required charm. Something which none of the idiots she was surrounded with had. 

Sylvia knocked on the door, sending two of the three male vampires back out to watch over the balcony. If she tried to escape that way, they’d have a snack. She waited patiently with her comrade, smiling innocently and swaying back and forth on her heels. How long is this going to take?

Eleanor had tried to remain calm since Metzli’s message, she really had, but it was unavoidable for her to be an anxious mess. She wished desperately that there was something more she could do to help her friend rather than sitting around her apartment and promising to keep herself safe. She didn’t really believe that the vampires would show up to her doorstep, she wasn’t anyone important, so all of her time had gone to worrying about her friend and hoping that they were putting as much effort into their own safety as they had everyone else’s.

A knock at the door made Eleanor jump to her feet, an avalanche of pillows falling off of the couch. She’d spent hours staring blankly at the TV and occasionally checking her phone for updates from Metzli. Was that who had knocked? With a renewed sense of relief washing over her, Eleanor ran to the door and hastily pulled it open.

“Hi! Oh…” Eleanor’s face fell at the sight of the unannounced visitors on the other side of the door. They weren't anyone she’d hoped to see… or recognized, for that matter. Before she could ask any questions that oddly numb feeling she so often chased fogged up her mind and, as it usually did, made her feel off balance. Eleanor fought to keep her expression the same and hoped that the vampires were too distracted to hear the way her heart rate increased. “May I help you?” So much for that promise of not even answering the door.

The urge to let her fangs lengthen at the sight of such a delicious meal was strong, but Sylvia resisted. She could only use her imagination, dream of sinking her teeth into that lovely neck. “Oh!” She put on a bubbly facade, her smile much too big to be friendly. That was Sylvia’s flaw. She always tried a little too hard.

“We’re in the next unit over, apartment D?” A lie. But humans were usually too dumb to read an expression well. “For some reason, our electricity went out and I can’t charge my phone. Any chance you can help me?” Leaning in slightly, Sylvia raised a brow, playfully scrunching her nose. “It’s at five percent right now. I just need a slight charge. Fifteen minutes and I’ll be out of your hair.” Her brows became a bit pleading. “Mostly just want to make sure my phone doesn’t die in the middle of me trying to contact the landlord.”

Even if the too-friendly smile and the lack of emotional presence wasn’t enough to raise suspicion, Eleanor would have had a bad gut feeling about the woman simply because of her eyes - she looked as though she were deciding what to put on her plate in preparation for a big meal. “Apartment D? Did Farah move out or have you moved in with her? I hope you’re a lot quieter than she is.” She didn’t know her neighbors from the people standing in front of her but she had to try and throw them off. She hoped that using her sister’s name in her lie wouldn’t bestow any kind of bad karma unto her, but it was the first name that came to mind on the spot.

Eleanor immediately took a step back when the woman leaned closer and for a moment she thought her heart would jump right out of her chest. Was it truly impossible for vampires to enter without an invitation? What if this woman was able to just cross over into her apartment? What would happen then? She didn’t have a prayer of fighting her off and she probably wouldn’t have time to make a panicked phone call to Metzli.

“If you’re having electrical problems I can contact the landlord for you - what’s your name? I’ll make sure to mention it alongside which apartment you’re in so there won’t be a mixup and hopefully the problem will be fixed quickly.” Eleanor offered a kind smile and reached for the door, hoping to end the conversation. “I’m sorry, I’ve been very sick for the past few days and don’t want you to catch whatever I have. My husband should be on his way back from the pharmacy, I’ve been going through medicine like crazy.” Another lie and a subtle nudge that she hoped would work.

Sylvia laughed, truly and heartily. The woman was good. She made up lies like it was second nature, probably already notified about their presence in town. The message Master sent was a mistake, but he just had to play his stupid game. He loved laughing at the traitor’s expense, and Sylvia couldn’t blame him. It just came at a cost. An annoying one. Whatever. Two could lie. They’d been watching the woman’s apartment long enough to know that the unit next to her was vacant and that she had no husband. Sylvia had to give her credit, though. She was definitely quick on her feet.

“Farah? There’s no Farah.” Shaking her head with a chuckle, she nudged her partner’s arm with her elbow. He eventually joined in, his face evident that he didn’t understand the joke. Rookie. “Landlord said the unit was vacant before us.” Sylvia quirked a brow. “I mean, you hardly leave the apartment. I wasn’t too sure anyone lived here up until now, when you opened the door. Just real lucky, I guess.” She chuckled a little more, watching the door begin to close. Not on her watch. 

“Uh, uh, uh…” They were unable to cross the threshold of the doorway, but she could stop the entrance from shutting completely. Sylvia planted her foot at the edge of the frame, prohibiting the door from closing. “Look, you have no husband. You’re alone. So come with us or let us in. It’ll be much easier if you just let this happen.” Both vampire’s eyes turned dark, and the other two at the balcony began to bang against the door. Poor woman was surrounded, making for a gleefully sinister smile on Sylvia’s face. “See what I mean?”

Well… shit. What was she supposed to do? “You’ve been watching me.” The woman’s words broke through the dread that had started to build up inside of Eleanor and she realized that for them to know that she was reluctant to leave her apartment they would have had to watch her for days on end. When was the last time she’d left? She wasn’t sure… but she knew exactly the last time she’d had a visitor. They’d been so close and Metzli had been right there - the thought of it sent a chill down her spine.

She hardly had time to react to the woman blocking her door before she was screaming at the sound of banging coming from behind her. Eleanor whipped around to see the additional vampires that had found their way to her balcony and backed herself against the far wall. The fact that she had indeed been trapped made her chest tighten and her mouth go dry - what more could she do except panic? A brief thought of retrieving the knife she’d been gifted crossed her mind, but what would she be able to do with it? Absolutely nothing. She wasn’t even sure if she could hold the thing correctly, much less use it for self defense against murderous vampires.

“I’m not going anywhere and you’re sure as hell not welcome in here!” Although she’d retreated further into her apartment and her entire body shook violently, Eleanor tried her best to make her voice loud. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood as she thought through her options: fighting obviously wasn’t one, she couldn’t win against one of them let alone four. She felt that she shouldn’t call Metzli because they would just walk right into a trap, but at the same time there was no one else she thought would be equipped to handle this kind of situation. But maybe, she thought, she did need to tell them that she had company just so they could steer clear of the area.

Her mind made up, Eleanor sprinted for the couch and grabbed her phone before turning to run down the hallway into her bedroom. She locked the door and placed her back against it, sliding down to the floor as she hurriedly sent a simple text.

Don’t come back here. Surrounded.

“We can wait all night and day, cutie.” Sylvia signaled for the group to post up, ready themself for a long stand-off. Her death was inevitable. Why was she fighting it so hard? Oh well. Her blood would spill soon enough. Who cares how long it took? She’d have to come out eventually. 

Eleanor’s message came through, and there was no hesitation at what Metzli did next. They abandoned everything they were doing, opting to use their legs instead of their vehicle. Screeching tires would make for a much louder entrance than they needed. The element of surprise was necessary if they were going to make Eleanor’s home safe once more. So they took to the rooftops, just as they did in Mexico so many times. It was their speciality, utilizing stealth and strategy to complete their missions with ease. Only, this time, their goal actually mattered. They had to save someone that mattered. Nothing like the money and idiotic power that Eloy sought. Eleanor was a precious life, and in such a short time, she mattered more than Metzli intended.

“Oye, chavo.” They jumped down from their perch, finding Eleanor’s balcony with ease, and sneaking up even easier. The clan’s training was really lacking. That kind of inability to detect an anomaly would not stand under Eloy’s reign, and Metzli exploited such a failure. They took out one of the vampires with ease, twisting its arm until they heard it crack, stomping onto their head until the carcass ceased to move. The next vampire, however, was a little more difficult. Both of them struggled for power, grappling and swiping their knives at one another until Metzli was left victorious with only a handful of bruises and lacerations. For a few beats, they stared at the piles of dust stained with black ooze. 

Farewell, idiots. 

Metzli sprinted inside, unable to find Eleanor upon the first scan of the room. “Eleanor?” They called out, walking toward the hallway that led to the bedroom until the open apartment door took their attention. Three monsters stared at one another, red eyes glaring and hackles raised. If anything else happened around Metzli, they couldn’t tell. They were too angry and focused on their new opponents. 

Eleanor knew immediately when Metzli had arrived at her apartment due to the commotion out on the balcony and her chest tightened even more. She shouldn't have texted, she hadn’t wanted them to be up against so many others, but at the same time she couldn’t chance them coming over unexpectedly and being ambushed. She closed her eyes and covered her ears, hoping that whatever gruesome scene was taking place just yards away from her ended quickly and with her friend coming out unharmed.

She immediately jumped to her feet at the sound of her name and unlocked the bedroom door to open it just a crack. “Door - she stopped me from closing the door!” Eleanor tried to warn, but Metzli had already noticed the remaining intruders. She didn’t like these odds, even if they had gotten past the two on the balcony, they’d had the advantage of taking them by surprise. She didn’t want to watch this fight - no supernatural abilities were needed to feel the anger that flowed between the vampires. “Please don’t.” She was finally able to get out, the words directed towards the strangers, then to Metzli, “I’m sorry! I don’t… I don’t know how to use the knife!”

Eleanor’s voice, pleading and small, cut through the stony and monstrous glare on Metzli’s face. She was desperate, but not in the way they had expected. Saving her was not what she wanted, her voice coarse. What choice did Metzli have, though? The situation was life or death, and they wouldn’t dare let that vicious hand lay a finger on their friend. She had more life to live, and they’d ensure she got to experience it. By any means necessary. 

“You do not have to use knife.” Any damage could be inflicted or taken by them. With all the experience they had, Metzli could take it on for both of them. They’d do it gladly, without Eleanor having to ask it of them. She didn’t have to, and she never would. “Stay back, okay? You have to stay back.” Slowly and carefully, Metzli inched forward to Eleanor, cupping her cheek gently as they looked into her eyes. “Please do not look. You do not want to see this.” They turned her around, speeding toward the apartment’s exit with their blade grasped tightly in their fist. 

“Oh? Looks like we made este puto—” 

Sylvia was interrupted with a knife handle and large palm to her face. The other vampire attempted to grab at Metzli’s left side, not realizing their arm was long gone. “Idiot.” Their leg collided with the vampire, sending him a few feet away while Metzli focused on the woman. She sank a knife into their back several times, which they didn’t feel, leaving her without a weapon to defend herself when it got lodged into their body. Had they really not been trained? Metzli rose a curious brow, engaging in a short fight that left the woman on the ground. Quickly, they stomped into her chest until the wet sound met crunching. The blood collected in her gaping wound, and to prevent any more mess from being made, Metzli retrieved a stake and sank it into her chest, reducing her to nothing but a mixture of blood and dust. 

Knowing there was one last vampire left, Metzli turned to where they had left him, only to see that he had fled. Pathetic, really, but smart too. They turned back to the doorway, limping back numbly. “It is over.” They paused, leaning into the doorway to steady themself. “Are you okay?”

Of course Eleanor wanted to protest but what would be the result of her somehow convincing Metzli not to fight? They could barricade themselves into the bedroom until… What? Until the one vampire within the vicinity that didn’t want to rip her apart grew too hungry to resist? While she tried her best to rearrange her features to disguise the fear she felt, Eleanor knew that Metzli would be able to see through the mask the moment their eyes met. She nodded and didn’t fight being turned away, wrapping her arms around herself into a tight hug and trying desperately to find anything to distract her mind from what was going on on the other side of the small apartment. She couldn’t focus too much on Lily, not only would the feelings of loneliness and despair only add fuel to the already raging fire, but the amount of undead around her made Lily feel more distant and quiet than she’d ever felt before. Instead she resorted to naming off her long list of siblings, their spouses or significant others, their children, pets…

Was she okay? Not in the slightest, but she wouldn’t be admitting that. Eleanor turned to Metzli and her face dropped at how tired they looked. “I know your English is rough at times, but when someone says ‘don’t’ they mean do not.” She attempted to joke but couldn't bring the smile to her face. She inched toward her friend cautiously, not because she was afraid, but because she didn’t want to risk frightening them. “How much more trouble have I gotten you into?” Tears sprang to her eyes and without a second thought she wrapped her arms around Metzli’s middle. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have - you’re hurt!” She pulled back and tried to see whatever was sticking from their back. “Metzli, you’re hurt!”

She was trying to joke. As much as fear was shaking her like a leaf, Eleanor still attempted to keep herself from tumbling into an emotional mess. For what, Metzli wondered? Their body was covered in countless battles, each one ending with their victory. At a cost, maybe, but there was little more they knew how to do than to give everything they were to the monster who made them. They were a mirror, and trapped inside was their master. On occasion, Metzli would let him out, and somehow, someway, it still led to a gentle embrace. 

They closed their eyes, ignoring the boa of hunger constricting their throat. Warmth spread across their chest, relief settling onto their body enough to let their body sink into the affection. It made it that much harder to let go when Eleanor exclaimed with concern, on the brink of becoming abject horror. “Eleanor, con calma.” Metzli put their hand in front of themself, gesturing for their friend to calm down before twisting their head in an attempt to view the wound. “Oh.” A knife was stuck in their back, and they stretched their arm behind them, wiggling the blade a few times before finally removing it. 

“Just a knife.” No pain or discomfort displayed on their face, the sensation too familiar and numbed out from Metzli’s years with Eloy. What didn’t numb out though, was the sensation of blood trickling down their skin, which made them stiffen. That was the worst part of any wound besides the hunger. Oh no, the hunger. “Eleanor, remember the crucifix? Go get it. Now. Please.” Dropping the blade, Metzli patted their pockets hastily, retrieving a bag of blood they had packed in case they needed it. Hopefully it was enough to keep them from losing themself to the hunger. “I am going to use your microwave and a mug. I have to. I am sorry.” They shuffled quickly past their friend, getting everything prepared. In a matter of minutes, Metzli was chugging the contents of the mug and feeling a bit more at ease. They remained in the kitchen, keeping their distance.

“I should be okay now. But please keep the crucifix near.”

Eleanor’s face twisted up as though in response to the pain Metzli should have felt while pulling the knife from their back. “You were stabbed! Don’t just rip it out!” But the damage had been done. She stood staring at the blade in shock, unsure as to what her next words or actions should be. Was this what being in true shock felt like? She’d gotten a taste of it once, when she’d lost Lily, but she couldn't be sure if the cold numbness flowing through her was because she’d just witnessed her friend pull a knife from their back or because they were simply undead and she didn’t have much time to think it over. “Crucifix?”

She remained in the doorway to the bedroom as her brain worked overtime to replay the past half hour. It was a hell of a dream… if it was a dream. Eleanor swayed on her feet and blindly grabbed for the cross she’d stashed in the drawer of her nightstand, never thinking there’d be a reason for it to see the light of day. She was lightheaded but Metzli was her main concern. “Are you alright? You didn’t answer my question: have I gotten you into more trouble?” She crept down the hall and used the wall to keep herself upright. Did the floor always wobble like that?

She peeked around the corner into the kitchen as Metzli polished off the contents of the mug. She knew she shouldn’t get too close for two reasons: the vampire was hungry and she wouldn’t be able to handle the sight or smell of blood in her condition. “You remember what I said? That I trust you? I know you won’t hurt me.” Eleanor placed her cheek against the wall and sighed at the coolness of the contact. “While you’re in there could you hand me the ice pack in… the freezer?” She’d be fine if she could get herself cooled off, right? She closed her eyes again and tried to stop her head from spinning. “Are you sure you’re safe with your friend? If they knew that you’d been here what if they know where you’re hiding? This isn’t good.”

“No. How can you get me in trouble? They are already here for me. Whoever is leading them has knowledge of me. They must know what I am capable of.” Metzli kept their back turned to Eleanor, trying to keep their food out of sight from her. Humans didn’t have the tendency to be able to handle seeing what was supposed to be kept inside of them. “I am fine. Will heal fast. Maybe two or three days.” They sighed, washing the mug off and putting it on the empty side of the sink. 

For a few moments, the world blurred, Eleanor’s voice muffled and far away. How were they supposed to do this? They’re obviously being watched. Who knows who else was now in danger because of them? Siobhan came to mind, and Metzli’s stomach twisted with guilt. Leila was likely safe, thanks to her ability to jump in and out undetected. They needed to come up with a plan, and fast. 

“Hm?” Reality snapped back into place, and they blinked the fog away as they limped to the freezer to retrieve the ice pack Eleanor requested. “I do not know if I am safe. There is much to…figure out.” Handing the ice pack over, Metzli sighed, placing their cold hand on her forehead to help with some of the relief. “I am sorry for all of this.” If they hadn’t gotten close to Eleanor, she wouldn’t be in danger, but now that it’s been done, they couldn’t just abandon her. They couldn’t abandon anyone. Not again. Never again. Their thoughts made their hand tremble and their face contort with the sensation of icy fear crawling down their back. It melted to neutral quickly, and Metzli hoped Eleanor didn’t catch it. “Do you need anything? I can stay, or I can leave. Whatever it is that you wish.”

Eleanor wasn’t fond of the way Metzli’s tone was bordering on defeat or the way their face showed genuine fear for just a split second. It was so unlike the person she’d gotten to know that it was unsettling and made her very upset. Upon their first meeting Metzli had shared that they’d felt the need to sentence themself to solitary confinement and she hoped that they wouldn’t think they needed to do that again.

She appreciated their cold hand on her forehead and held the ice pack against the back of her neck. As the seconds ticked by Eleanor’s breathing returned to normal and she was able to think clearly again “Don’t ever apologize, it’s not your fault these assholes are hunting you down like it’s some kind of game. But you need to be safe, no matter what. If something happens to you it’ll be another person that I care about being harmed and I’m admittedly not strong enough to deal with that again. Say you’ll be careful.” She shrugged, not wanting them to remain someplace they’d been seen visiting but also not wanting them to be caught going back to their hiding place. “Wherever you feel you need to be, Metzli. I will always prefer you to be near, even though I can’t do a damn thing to protect you, but you need to do whatever you believe you have to. So long as you’re keeping yourself safe while doing it.”

A dark storm cloud loomed over the horizon, casting shadows of doubt and anxiety over the landscape of their mind. It was a relentless tide, pulling them into its icy depths. If Metzli had needed to breathe, it would’ve left them gasping for the warm breath of courage and resolution. People were after them, growing closer and closer. 

Every step they took to create a new life was a dance on the razor’s edge, and now everything was falling quickly between caution and calamity. Metzli felt trapped, unable to think past the terror in Eleanor’s eyes. Maybe Siobhan was right. Getting close to people was a mistake. But they were happy, for once, so how could that be truth? Life and love were supposed to hurt. It was supposed to take work, leaving the grime of effort on their skin. They understood what true happiness felt like, and had love; something they were always told they would never have. There was still much to learn, Metzli supposed, and that was okay. For the time being, they’d make their best impression of a friend, placing the ones they care about above all else. That’s all they could do, right? 

“I am being as careful as I can be.” Face falling, Metzli removed their hand from Eleanor’s forehead and backed away. They caught her staring, wearing a frown reserved for the worst of moments, when uncertainty was wound too tightly. Being strong was the only option, even as tears stung their eyes and a ball formed in their throat. “I will do whatever,” Clearing their throat, Metzli closed their eyes tightly, pushing the tears away. “Whatever is fine. I am tired, so I will stay and rest. If anyone else comes, I…” They sniffled absentmindedly, stiffening as they rubbed at their eyes and moved too harshly. Pain began to bubble from their wounds and blood trailed down their skin. “I can protect. I will protect. I just need to…” They weren’t sure what, but they paused, mind slipping onto their tongue before they had the chance to stop it.

“I am sorry. I am…scared.”

“I know you are, it’s just agonizing to know that there’s nothing I can do to help you right now. I couldn’t even protect myself.” Eleanor nodded and tried not to let the relief she felt show too much - she would be able to sleep a little better knowing that they weren’t leaving. “You don’t need to worry about protecting anyone right now, you’ve done enough of that today. I suppose I should have thanked you for that by now: thank you. Do you -” She frowned again as she watched Metzli’s entire demeanor change.

“Hey,” Eleanor immediately dropped the ice pack to the ground and tossed the crucifix in her free hand to the side, “Stop apologizing. This is a lot, I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. You don’t have to go through it alone, it sounds like you have a lot of people who are willing to help you in any way they can, in any way you need.” She slowly reached out and touched their hand, hoping to coax them into bringing it away from their face and opening their eyes again. “You’re staying, yeah? You’re gonna have to get cleaned up.”

Eleanor closed the front door of the apartment with a slam, not giving the pile of dust and blood on her doorstep a second look, before she turned her full attention back to Metzli. “You’ve been hurt, we’ve gotta clean that wound. Do you want to shower or do you just want to clean it at the sink with a rag? I think I still have a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt I stole from my dad years ago, they’ll fit you better than anything of mine. I hope you’re a Giants fan.” She joked, this time able to bring a smile to her face. She held out her hand for them to take. “Do you sleep? You can have the bed. If you don’t, we can repeat movie night and share the couch, I don’t take up too much space.”

“It is okay if you cannot do anything. This is my fault. They are after me. They want me. It is me. It is me. It is me.” Their emotions were at a downward spiral, speeding and mixing quickly together to create a deep and terrifying panic in Metzli’s chest. They tried to hold it there, letting the pain seep into their veins in hopes that it would eventually dissipate as they tugged at their hair.

It made no exodus. It stuck around like a demon, long enough to force uncertainty to embed itself into their thoughts. Using this power, it echoed its proclamations into the crater caused by the catastrophic impact of when Metzli’s resolve fell. They had to be strong. What other choice did they have when people were relying on their strength? Some of Metzli’s loved ones could protect themselves just fine, but not all, just as Eleanor said. Even with the latest fight over, Metzli knew there would be more. Despite this, they began to relax at their friend’s touch.

She spoke of cleaning wounds and clothes and giants, pairing it all with her kind smile. Metzli nodded carefully, taking a deep breath while their hand made contact with Eleanor’s. “Do not sleep.” They stiffened their posture at the sensation of more blood trickling down their body, reminding them they needed to clean it. “Maybe just clean the wounds at sink. I can rip apart this shirt so I do not ruin your rags.” With a harsh swallow, they headed off into the kitchen and set to work, turning their sleeves into makeshift bandages and the tattered remains into rags. By the time they were done, Metzli had managed to make their way to the couch, unable to remember when they had switched into the clothing Eleanor offered. They stared at the television, enjoying their favorite show. a blank screen.

What could Eleanor say? Having to read someone’s emotions on their face and through their body language was almost a completely new experience for her, one that she hadn’t expected to enjoy so much, but it came at a disadvantage. What could she say to her friend when she had absolutely no idea what they were feeling? “Nothing is your fault, Metzli. You can’t continue blaming yourself - these people that are after you are awful. You’re always talking about monsters, those people are the monsters. Whatever happened back then, whatever you did in order to get away and become the better person you are today, don’t you ever apologize for that. We’re gonna get you out of this.” What role would she be playing in this marvelous plan of hers? It didn’t matter, she just knew that Metzli needed to hear something to keep their head above the water - needing someone to throw out a lifeline and save her from drowning in her thoughts was something she’d become very familiar with over the past few months.

Though she miraculously maintained a neutral expression, Eleanor watched Metzli robotically clean themself and change into the borrowed clothes while fighting off a wave of panic. This felt like a completely different person from the one she’d come to know, gotten close to, trusted, quite literally almost died for. Their face was almost always expressionless but there was something different about it now - the eyes. Metzli had once accused Eleanor of not being able to hide her true feelings because her eyes gave her away but it felt that they’d swapped roles. She fought to keep herself from showing emotion and her friend was visibly shaken and scared; this side of them was in stark contrast to the one who’d bravely sweeped in just in the knick of time to fight off an entire pack of vampires while taking a knife in the back.

Eleanor kept herself busy once Metzli had finished cleaning their wounds and carefully stuffed the torn and blood-soaked clothes into a trash bag and ran it downstairs to the dumpster in part to rid the apartment of any traces of blood and also to give herself some time to think about what she would do next. She knew that sometimes not saying anything and just being present was enough but she knew that she wouldn’t be able to just remain silent. She cared for them too much to feel like she was just idly sitting by.

After she’d returned Eleanor sat beside Metzli on the couch and brought her knees up to her chest, watching them from the corner of her eyes. She tried her best to come up with something to say that would have the best chance of getting their mind out of the treacherous storm they were undoubtedly enduring internally but nothing came. She was extremely awkward at the best of times, there wasn’t a chance in hell that she’d be able to break the tension in the apartment without either saying the wrong thing or completely failing to get Metzli to start talking again. Eventually though, she decided on just admitting the truth. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this: I’m going insane not knowing what you’re feeling right now. I can try and imagine but I don’t have very much experience when it comes to having to guess.” She laid her cheek against her knees, fully facing Metzli as she spoke. “What’s going on in your mind?”

Metzli shuddered at the sudden disturbance of the silence, their mind colliding with the wall of reality harshly. When they locked eyes with Eleanor, they could see how concerned their friend was. Dread clung to her like a plague, no real remedy available just yet. There was only making her comfortable enough to rest until she could be freed. Truth was, Metzli didn’t really know how they were feeling, and were therefore unable to provide anything all that soothing for Eleanor. Not that an explanation would ease her at all. Metzli was positive it’d only serve to add to her ache, a bittersweet solution, really. Still, they knew their only option was to try. For her sake. 

“I…” They opened and closed their mouth a few times, unable to find the words just yet. After a few moments of struggle, something finally came to fruition, much to the vampire’s relief. “I have frustration and worry about the clan being here. There is mixture of…” They took a deep breath, closing their eyes and adjusting their seat so they could focus on what exactly they felt. Another shiver crawled down Metzli’s spine, and they exhaled deeply, looking at Eleanor once more with a bit more clarity in their eyes. “Cold and heavy. That is what the feelings are. And my…” Raising their hand, Metzli watched it tremble, brows furrowing. “Crawling. Something is crawling and makes me have more frustration and then makes me colder and I want this to be over so I can keep what I have. Freedom is mine now. I want it to be!” Metzli tensed a hand through their curls, tugging once, then twice, sustaining the pull for a few seconds until the pressure dissipated. There was no use in worrying about an emotional monster. Metzli wanted to shift the attention back to Eleanor instead. Or at least toward a topic that wasn’t them.

“I am tired.” They muttered, inching their hand to Eleanor. “Maybe we watch movie and exist simply. I want this. Killing machine is not what I want to be. Just have wishes for peaceful time now.” Metzli’s expression was genuine and exhausted, the recollection of their first movie night making them smile slightly, a bit hopefully. “Is this okay?”

Eleanor, elated that Metzli was actually describing what they were feeling, clung to their every word and nodded along encouragingly. That was good - they hadn’t completely shut down, they could still register their emotions and, even more, were willing to speak about them. That was a lot more than most would be able to do in their position. When her eyes prickled with fresh tears she turned her head to stare at the TV, not wanting them to misinterpret it and think they’d done or said something wrong. “You are free and you always will be. You deserve the entire world - don’t bother arguing with me because I’m not going to accept anything other than an agreement. You’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever been fortunate enough to meet. You helped me with something very important to me before we even knew each other, not just anyone would take the time to do that for a total stranger. Whatever connection you once had to these people isn’t there anymore, you’re a whole new person and you have no ties to them. Don’t even for a second entertain the idea that you’re like them or that you have to go back to that life. Don’t you even for a second entertain the idea of leaving me.” She added with more desperation than she’d meant.

“You’re welcome to stay here and rest as long as you’d like, I don’t mind at all.” Eleanor faced them again, one side of her mouth turned up into another smile. “Yeah, of course we can just exist, I’m finally starting to get good at that again.” Almost instinctively she reached out to grab hold of their hand as it inched closer. “This is okay.” She confirmed before laying her head against their shoulder, the full weight of the night’s events finally beginning to wear on her. The rollercoaster of her own emotions had taken a lot from her already low supply of energy and she fought to keep her eyes open as she blindly stared at the screen, only registering the moving figures and the occasional voices. “Actually, this is perfect. I’ll even shut up long enough for us to get through an entire movie without me interrupting.” She laughed at her own joke and silently wondered how such a chaotic, bloody night had turned into something quite the opposite until she came to the conclusion that it didn’t really matter because she was just happy that they were there. She would enjoy their company before they inevitably felt it was time for them to go back into hiding.

[steam-carpet-cleaners-e-j8h]

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Apple Valley GYM Yoga Instruction

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[lanaespot]

Success: An Introspective Look

Written on January 3, 2023

Success.

It’s a small, seven-lettered word that should seem insignificant amongst the vast catalog that is the dictionary. However, the word success holds a lot more importance for many people on this Earth than any other.

When we hear the word success, we all have different ideas—visions, even—on what it is. For some, it is the cozy feel of a humble American Dream home, a wonderful spouse, and three little bundles of joy wreaking havoc around the house. For others, it is a modest apartment life in a great location, working a job they love with their three cats. For an even bolder crew, it’s signing a 1 Million Dollar lease to the perfect Parisian Modern penthouse and partying on a big-ass yacht. And for me, it’s drinking cranberry juice because I can’t legally have wine yet and living my best life out of pure spite for humanity.

But there is the occasional day when we may ask ourselves this: why? Why has this word wrought this emotionally-driven phenomenon? Why do we have such an idea of success?

Because, as Mark Manson puts it in his famous book Everything Is F*cked: A Book About Hope, we humans are afraid of “The Uncomfortable Truth”—the idea that if we don’t have hope for said success, then we, in truth, have nothing to live for. It’s an idea implanted firmly in the back of our minds, and some choose to embrace it while others hardcore deny it.

So then, how does one be successful? Yes, I’m almost fresh out of high school and near entering college (out of the frying pan and into the fire), but with the number of times life has tried to bulldoze me, I surely have enough credit to be remotely successful.

It isn’t just a simple 1-2-3 recipe, or a nice morning stroll down the street to that local coffee shop. The truth is that life is hard. And it never gets easier. However, you can make it easier for yourself. And no, I don’t mean hop on Indeed or Glassdoor and find a couple more jobs.

No Sense In Crying Over Spilled Milk

You’ve probably heard that phrase a lot and had no idea who it was directed at. I mean, who, other than babies or toddlers, cries over spilled milk? But beyond that, you’ve probably heard the phrase “Perseverance is Key” a hell of a lot too.

And just like before, you’re hearing it again.

Perseverance isn’t just key. It’s a part of life itself. It’s the special line in the sand between being balanced and being a jackass. It’s the marriage counselor between your heart and existential crisis.

See, the timeframe between 2018 and 2020 was, in fact, the lowest point in life for me. In August 2018, my mother passed away. I was a little shocked at first, and then I began having very healthy mental breakdowns every 2-3 business days as any normal person would. I chronically skipped school and my grades dropped from their usual A’s and high B’s.

But death is an inevitable thing, and what would it make me if I had given up on life there?

So I continued—until my dad had a stroke in 2019. Luckily, he lived, but that meant I couldn’t visit my people up in the good ol’ NC.

Then Covid hit North America. Hard. We had to go virtual, and that was easily the worst year of my high school career. While other kids were chilling behind their Zoom cameras, I was stuck as the only participant in a majority of my classes, working for a hard-earned grade that other kids got easily because the school didn’t want to look bad with their horrendous failure rate.

And then my dad died on the Thanksgiving break of that year, so I couldn’t even enjoy that.

Immediately after, my mom’s mother passed away. Given, I wasn’t as close to her given we barely got along so I didn’t quite know how to react. Even so, I’d been through so many deaths at that point I’d gone numb.

The point is: life threw a lot of shit at me all at once. However, I didn’t give up dragging my way through its graveyard of inconveniences. Success pretty much depends on your ability to accept the no’s in life. Because if you don’t, you’ll be stuck whining at missed opportunities and bawling on TikTok at how people you’ve never met before have more followers than you.

I’m not saying suck it up; I’m saying suck it up and pick yourself back off the ground. Trust me when I say this: it’s the better option over becoming a complete pessimist.

Self-Awareness: Denying Your Person Is Like Murdering Your Psyche Ten Times Over

If you’re an overthinker like me, chances are you’ve had five minutes before to sit in one spot and think about who you are and why you may or may not have done some of the idiotic things you did (I am terribly sorry for leaving my thumb in the car door as you pulled off, Mom; it wasn’t a hospital trip but it wasn’t a fun time either).

These are what I’d like to call “Moments of Realization”. Moments where you can take a minute and realize that ‘wow, that was stupid’ or ‘holy crap, I really am a good writer’. Say I’m a narcissist all you’d like but I am currently doing the latter.

Where is this leading, you may ask? Well, I’ll tell you! Many people when giving their motivational speeches or scripting their Youtube self-help videos often tell you to be the best person you can be and to not let anyone hold you back. The problem with most of these optimistic outlooks, however, is that many tend to forget the most important step to achieving this self-assuredness: accepting who you are in that moment.

Accepting yourself isn’t just a step to success. Accepting your current personality and traits is also a great step to improving your mental health. It doesn’t matter who you are, good or bad. If you want to improve, you have to acknowledge where you are on that proverbial staircase, and whether or not you truly want to move upwards. The better your mental health, the more chance you have at becoming successful without dying inside.

So the next time you sit down and think about how much of an asshole you were that day, accept it. Because if you can’t accept who you are or what you may have done despite the circumstances, you’ll spend more time trying to deny a negative self-image than getting your life together.

Material-Gurling Your Way Out of Depression

Someone once said, “Money doesn’t buy happiness”. Yes, while that is generally true, money can still buy the path to happiness. Even briefly. There will be days that feel worse than others, where not even your beyond-the-job-market abilities can help you feel good about yourself. In times like these, it’s best to find something to help cheer you up, is it not?

But sometimes, hanging out with friends and subliminal therapy doesn’t help. That’s where material possessions come in. Books, crafts, clothes, food—you name it. Find the comfort item of your choice, and indulge in it.

It, admittedly, isn’t the best habit. In fact, I have had my fair share of unnecessary purchases during my period of severe depression after my mother passed. I’m pretty sure I spent 100+ dollars on Honkai Impact 3rd to gamble away on the character gacha. It wasn’t my proudest moment, avoiding owning up to why money was gone just like that out of her bank account, but it certainly was a learning opportunity.

That’s why, when you buy for the feel-good sensation, you have to be smart about it. Buy something that’ll help, not harm. Be productive in your purchase. Don’t buy something that’ll bring you short-term enjoyment. Rather, buy something that you can think back on or use again.

Buy things like a nice, cozy sweater, or even some crochet starter kits.

Or, if you’d like to be like me, a shit-ton of Udemy courses and graphic design books to give you tons of learning material when your usual schtick isn’t working out, and the ever-looming existential crisis is coming back full force.

Of course, this isn’t to say don’t go fine dining at a restaurant, buying an expensive wine to let loose, or purchasing a delicate watch from the local jeweler. Sometimes, it is good to indulge yourself with material items if not out of spite.

Just don’t end up broke, hungover, and butt-naked in an alleyway behind a motel. That’s when it gets out of hand.

It’s The Tiny Things In Life

When it comes to success, many people tend to think along the lines of being a millionaire or billionaire, or making the biggest change in the history of humanity. That you aren’t successful until you’re enjoying weekly travel vacays and having everyone scrambling for an interview with you.

This isn’t true. Success is, by definition, the accomplishment of an aim or purpose. Bigger goals, like the ones mentioned above, tend to be your ‘purposes’ in life. A ‘purpose’ is what I’d like to categorize as a long-term goal. Your ‘purpose’ is to be successful. Your ‘purpose’ is to be a well-renowned Chemical Engineer or the best UX Designer in your field.

However, your ‘aims’ are the smaller goals in life. Your ‘aims’ are the most important stepping stones to achieving that ‘purpose’ that defines you as successful. You may think you aren’t successful in that current moment, but you really are. Because if you’re completing your ‘aims’, you’re triumphant in your long-term goal.

The major thing about aims is that they aren’t always noticeable. In fact, a lot of people commonly take their abilities and actions for granted. You could be able to read faster, purchase a book of reference material, or perhaps even watch a five-minute Youtube tutorial. Either way, these are all part of the tiny things in life that can assist your ‘purpose’.

But let’s say you don’t exactly have a purpose yet. That’s completely fine! Still adopt the mindset of your little actions mattering in life, because they do. You never know what the tiniest things could do for you.

Success Is Conditional

Overall, Success is conditional. Its definition varies from person to person. So, despite all my ramblings, the concept is what you think it is. If that’s getting accepted into your dream college, yay! If it’s winning a hot dog eating contest, wahoo!

However, remember that success is tailored to an individual’s own mindset. The next time you think you’re not winning, think about the small things you’ve done. Continue improving how you think and do things not by purchasing self-help books (though those are pretty niche; looking at you Mark Manson), but by keeping yourself off the ground and accepting who you are and the ways you can change.

If you want to think of it without all the flowery words and context: unless you’re on the streets or a deadbeat, you’re pretty much successful.

[drakenology]

the yakuza wife - yakuzaboss!bakugo x housewife reader - inspired by @hanji-is-life ‘s sexy ass. 

yakuza au

tw: violence, sadism, mentions of blood, smut, cum, cussing, daddy/ddlg kinks undertones, mentions of guns, very much harley quinn and joker only joker actually loves harley in this ya know?

“where the fuck is my money?” bakugo asks this bludgeoned man tied up to a metal chair in some god forsaken warehouse god only knows where. 

“please sir, i’ll get it to you as soon as I can! please stop!” the man pleads, flinching when bakugo raises his fist to land a mean left hook into his jaw with a dark chuckle. 

“you know you shouldn’t borrow from people if you have no intentions in payin’ em back. it’s fuckin’..” he pauses before taking a crowbar and bashing the man in both his knees, blood curdling screams filling the empty space. “rude!”

bakugo smirks as the man begs for mercy, pulling a set of pliers of his pocket and holding them up to the man’s face to tease him, grabbing by his neck to make him meet his intimidating gaze. 

“shoulda thought of that before trying to playing me for a fuckin’ fool.. hey, I wonder how many teeth I can pull outta ya before your weak ass passes out.” he grunts, waving the plier in his face until the sound of his phone ringing stops him from doing anything.

“you’re lucky I gotta take this.” he mumbles, taking a piece of dirty cloth and shoving it into his mouth to keep him quiet.

bakugo turns away and rolls up his sleeve, setting up his tools for torture as he answers the phone. 

“hi baby!” you chime, at the mall having the time of your life with his credit card. 

“hey. ‘m workin’ whaddaya want?” he says, holding up his pliers and sitting them down on the table as his hostage screams in the background. 

“just checking on you, dummy! whatcha want for dinner, hm? i know you haven’t eaten yet.” you say, holding up different dresses to your frame to imagine yourself in them. “hey, pink or powder blue?”

“pink. and ‘m not hungry. you’ve got security with you, right baby?” he asks, kicking the man onto the floor with a loud thud. 

“of course. you won’t let me leave the house without them.” you respond, not even paying attention to the muffled screams you hear in the background. you’ve learned not to ask too many questions when it comes to being a yakuza wife. 

“gotta keep my baby safe, right? listen, princess I gotta go. i’ll be home before 9 okay?” 

you suck your teeth and roll your eyes, “fine. be careful okay?”

“always am. love you baby.” as he hangs up and returns to his task. 

the difference between you and katsuki was night and day. everyone knew you to be so sweet and kind; unbeknownst to them all how you ended up with a cretin like Bakugo. even though Katsuki was immoral in many ways, he knew marrying you was the right thing to do. who else would want to dress his wounds and pick out his suits for the day?

katsuki demanded you quit your job. in fact he came with you to put in your two weeks notice, tough scowl staining his features as your boss signed the approval with shaking hands.

from that day on he ensured you were well taken care of and that marrying him and becoming his housewife came with many perks.

for starters, your husband was loaded. all those years of extorting and money laundering paid off every time you come home with a couple shopping bags from the mall.

katsuki loved lavishing you in the finest of everything, adoring how you look in designer. so much so, he fucks you by the bay window of your luxury penthouse, the Chanel dress he just bought you hiked up over your ass as his calloused fingers make way into your mouth. you’re pinned to the glass, bare breasts pressed against the window as he railed you from behind. and he wonders why you turned out to be a spoiled brat.

your gifts always made you stand out above the rest. many men fawn over you and he knows this. just a small price to pay for having a fine ass wife. but if anyone ever forgot their place, if anyone ever got to close. well. that’d be the last time you’d ever see them. course you have no idea why. but even though katsuki loved you with all his heart, you could be a real pain in the ass. you were so bratty, especially when he was busy. 

one day you came trotting into his office in the middle of some business deal. whatever. your jimmy choos popped and you needed a new pair before the yacht party you were attending started. 

“daddy’s taking care of business right now, okay? go wait outside.”

“no! you promised we’d go shopping! I need new shoes what the fuck am I supposed to do with these?” you whine, pouting like usual to get your way. bakugo’s brow raised, walking towards you and gesturing for the meeting to continue without him. his hand rested on your lower back as he escorted you out.  

he fucked your brains in in the next room for disobeying him, panties around your ankles, your charm anklet jingling as he picked up your legs. 

“spoiled fuckin’ brat. told you to wait didn’t I? hm? or did you make a scene ‘cause you wanted my dick?” your head hangs back as your hips are held down by him, thrusts brutal as you cry for him to slow down, face turned away from his. he grabs your chin and turns you around harshly with his scarred and calloused hands, bruised knuckles turning white with a tight grip. 

“look at me when i’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you.” 

he came inside you when he was done, pulling your panties up for you as it dripped down your leg. 

“now.. back to what I was doin’. tell the driver to take your ass home.” he huffs with a zip of his pants and a shake in his sleeves to fix them. bakugo leaves you on the desk, leaving the door cracked for you to leave when you got yourself together. and when you did you could hardly hold yourself up, holding your high heels in your hand as you limp to the car waiting outside for you. 

having a yakuza boss as a husband was always exciting. something in you liked the danger; the thrill.

you tell this tale to your other socialite girlfriends and they almost never believe you.

you were out with bakugo on a date when work called. to your dismay, he had to get up and leave. you insisted on being brought along, hating being left alone in that big house that was often empty without him. he agreed but only if you promised to be quiet like a good little girl. 

when you arrive at some warehouse (the same one mentioned earlier), a man was already hog tied on the ground, muffled screams behind a piece of duck tape as bakugo ripped it off. you sat by a table, legs folded in annoyance. this interrupted date night? you scoff and fold your arms. 

“ah. good seeing you old friend. remember me?” he asks, taunting him a little with a gun in his hand pressing it against his jaw as the man let out muffled pleas for him not to shoot. 

“you tried stealing from me. fuckin’ idiot. my boys caught you in some hotel with your little girlfriend. did you think you were gonna have a victory fuck after you made off with my money, hm?” bakugo asks, hitting him upside the head with the butt of his pistol.

you jump at the sound of the blow, a small part of you turned on watching your husband beat the crap out of a complete stranger. your pussy starts to ache when you peer over at bakugo’s strong tattooed arms as he flung his jacket aside, rolling his white sleeves up to ensure his expensive suit doesn’t get soiled. 

“oh fuck, where are my manners? this is my lovely wife, y/n. say hi baby.” he coos at you, a switch from rough to gentle when he spoke to you. you smile and wave, the hostage sobbing out a weak greeting when bakugo demands him to. 

“anyways. what’d you do with the money, asswipe? gonna tell me or are you gonna make me fuck you up in front of my pretty wife. god, look at ‘er, ain’t she gorgeous? you know I was about 30 minutes from railing her before you had to go along and ruin our night. I should kill you right here.” bakugo turns his head towards you with a sick look in his eye. 

“whaddaya think, princess? what should I do to this motherfucker, huh?” he asks. 

“smack him again. he ruined date night.” you grumble, folding your arms. 

“he sure did, baby.” bakugo says, punching the hostage in his jaw. he gestured for his men to crowd around him, all of them taking turns kicking and beating him with metal bars. katsuki walks towards you and pulls you into a passionate kiss, a bit of blood on his knuckles as he pulled your hair. god, this whole situation was sick. but why was it so hot?

bakugo carries you away to the car, tells the driver to fuck off somewhere while he rails you in the back seat, knowing his men will take care of the rest of what he started inside the warehouse. you straddle his lap, bouncing up and down on his stiff cock as the car rocked back and forth. the car windows fog up as your body heat commingled throughout the space, your hands pressing against the glass to gain to balance as you rode his fat cock. 

“fuck, daddy. you’re so hot when you’re handling business. ooh, you’re dick’s so hard.” you purr, bakugo’s hand pinching and playing with your breast as his hips thrust upwards. He smirks at you, almost a bit shocked you got as turned on as he did from the pain he inflicted.

“hmm, I know baby. god, you’re sick. getting this wet from watching me beat up some punk. dirty fuckin’ girl.” he huffed into your hair, leaving sloppy kisses on your neck followed by harsh nibbles.

truth is even though you were so sweet and caring, you had a dark side no one knew about. I mean why else would you marry into the yakuza? 

you were both fucking insane. 

[lost-between-letters]

I Don't Know How To Dance

Jack Kline X Reader (she/her)

Word Count: 946

Warnings: none

Summary: Jack wanted to learn something he read about

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts for a month now. Finally decided to edit and post, I hope you enjoy. Oh, also part of Wings Wednesday

They had been reading in silence for the better part of the afternoon when Jack looked up and stretched across the bed to tap Y/N's shoulder. He waited until she looked up and then asked with the sincerity that was typical for him, "How exactly does dancing work?"

"What?" Her mind was still halfway on the trip to Los Angeles with a zebra and a lion. It took Y/N a second to pierce the meaning of his words together.

Jack didn't seem too put off by her confusion as he simply shrugged and moved up on the bed to cross his legs.

"A number of these novels you gave me portray dancing as 'key element' of a relationship," he stated and moved his fingers to make air quotations, " or at least imply it. I know that this is a different kind of dancing to what you told me about parties. Is it something like sex or kissing for a relationship? Dean told me that this is stuff you have to build up to."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh. The comparison was accurate if a little odd - so exactly how most of Jack's statements were. Not that there was anything wrong with that. She had fallen in love with this trait in particular and didn't think that these feelings would go away any time soon.

Just as she started to answer, Jack's eyes clouded with another thought. One that seemed to worry him if the crease between his eyebrows was any indication. "Wait. Did I do something wrong?"

Shit, Y/N shouldn't have laughed at him. Damn, her impulsive brain.

"What?" Y/N reached out instinctively and cupped his cheek so he wouldn't be able to look away, "why should you have done something wrong?"

"I don't know how to dance," Jack said, seemingly upset by his own statement (ironically, Y/N was relieved as he at least wasn't upset with her insensitivity), "am I holding our relationship back with that?"

Y/N thought that she might be melting into a puddle of love at the genuine concern in Jack's eyes. She drew a half circle on his cheek with her thumb and tapped the edge of his mouth once. "Sweetheart, there is no way for you to hold this relationship 'back'. As long as we're both happy - and I am - this is working out just perfectly."

"Really?"

Jack's face was filled with guarded hope, not sure if there was a catch waiting on the other end of the line. And if that didn't speak for the messed up things that poor boy had to live through. Y/N was tempted to find someone responsible and hit them over the head. With, like, a baseball bat. But she didn't. Because Jack was right there and waiting for her answer.

"Really." Y/N smiled gently and leaned forward to peck his lips.

When she pulled back, Jack returned her smile with his usual brightness. "Does that mean that you can teach me how to dance?"

If it had been hard to refuse Jack anything before, Y/N deemed it pretty much impossible now. His eyes were glowing excitedly at the prospect of a new human experience - in a completely non-magic way - and she wasn't opposed to the idea of dancing to begin with.

"C'mere," Y/N held out her hands to pull Jack up from the bed they had been sitting on.

He followed easily and laced their fingers together. With a cheeky grin, he raised her right hand up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up. "Uhm."

Momentarily thrown off balance, she tried to gather her wits back to what she had been meaning to do.

Music! They needed music to dance.

Right... Where was her phone again?

A little bit of fumbling through the blankets and setting up the tiny Bluetooth speaker (that Y/N totally hadn't stolen from Dean's room) later, the soft tunes of an Ed Sheeran song filled the air.

"Put your arms around my waist," Y/N instructed Jack quietly.

He did as she asked him to so Y/N reached up and laced her hands behind his neck. Another step closer and their chests were touching. Jack's eyes dropped down to her lips before they came up again to her eyes and rested there.

"Now what?" He whispered, just barely audible over the music.

Y/N leaned her head against his shoulder and started to sway her body to the rhythm. "Now you relax; listen to the music. Let it guide you, Baby."

Slowly, Jack gave up his tense stance and followed her movements. At first, it was a bit awkward as they weren't moving in sync - Jack stepped on her foot almost immediately. "Damn, I'm sorry, Y/N, I-"

"No harm done," she pressed a kiss to his cheek, let her head rest in the crook of his neck, "just keep dancing."

And Jack did. While the song was building up to the bridge, they finally found their rhythm together and Jack relaxed into it completely. The baby steps slowly turned into a lazy waltz that had Y/N's heart beat fall in sync with the rhythm. She was feeling the music in her bones and in Jack's embrace.

That was how she had always pictured it. Dancing with her boyfriend, barefoot in the safety of their room with no one watching. Just the two of them, circling in half swings across the floor with Jack holding her close.

Sure, neither of them was a perfect dancer and there definitely were some injured toes to attend to later but right now, Y/N felt like she was flying.

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