#apologized a ton and then I went on my merry way to do the rest of my workout and then 30 MINUTES LATER when I was doing

[laurelindorenan]

I made my first big goal - I can now bench press the bar! 😁 And I also did my first ever barbell back squats! I feel like I’ve been at Level Zero since I started in June because most men and some women are able to bench the barbell from day one and I’ve just been trying to get that point for months. But now I’m at Level One!! And stronger than I’ve ever been in my life!!

[itsallyscorner]

Thank you for the request, love!🎄❤️ Hope you don’t mind, I did some changes but it still follows the concept of your request! I hope you like it and happy reading!!❤️ @palna

💌.

The One I’ve Been Missing

This was kinda inspired by Little Mix’s song, “One I’ve Been Missing”, give it a listen :)

Warnings: some angst? Kinda sad for a Christmas fix..but has a some what happy ending. This came out longer than expected..enjoy, I tired:)

(Gif from Pinterest)

The living room was full of smiles and laughter as your family began to create plans for Christmas Day. It was Christmas Eve, and knowing your family, everything was to come together last minute. Though your family didn’t live too far, they had been staying at your place since the weather at your hometown had been absolutely horrible. There had been snow storms that closed down schools, took out power lines, and covered the ground in a thick white blanket of snow.

Your cousins have been arguing about who was going to make the Mac and Cheese this year when your phone began to vibrate in your pocket. You took your phone out and saw that it was Paddy. Paddy was Tom’s younger brother. Even though you and Tom had broken up, your relationship with his family was still strong. You and his brothers had gotten along so well, that they loved you like you were their sister. His parents, Nikki and Dom, have been very supportive of you during the breakup. They were disappointed in Tom for what he did and even apologized for their son’s actions. Though your relationship with their son was undecided at the moment, they always made an effort to call you on holidays or to just say hello once in a while.

You quietly excused yourself and entered the kitchen. Answering the call, you lean on the marble counters of your kitchen. The call goes through and Paddy’s adorable face pops up on your screen. His smile grows into his rosy cheeks when he finally sees you.

“(Y/n)! Merry Christmas!” He happily screams through the phone. You hear Nikki scold him in the background.

“(Y/n), darling! Merry Christmas!” She smiles while waving at the camera.

“Thank you! You guys look like you’re having a blast over there!” You hear a ton of commotion in the background, which was most likely Tom and his siblings showing off their presents to each other or having some pointless argument.

“Thank you! You guys look like you’re having a blast over there!” You hear a ton of commotion in the background, which was most likely Tom and his siblings showing off their presents to each other or having some pointless argument.

“We are! Sam’s cooked our lunch and he’s planning on making dinner later today! We’ve already opened presents and everyone’s happy! How are you, love? Are you with your family?” She questioned you as she sat on the couch. You saw Dom beside her, who made a funny face and waved at you. You chuckled waving back.

“I’m doing really good, my family has been staying with me for the last few days, so we’ve been together for about a week now? But everything’s going great! It’s Christmas Eve here and now we’re just waiting till midnight to start passing out presents!” You answer.

“Oh that’s good! I’m glad you got to spend time with your family because I’ve heard the weather there has been harsh! Thankfully Harry made it out before that big storm, if he didn’t he wouldn’t be home for the holidays!” Harry had been in your hometown because Tom was filming a new movie there. The set was only an hour away from where you lived, but you never went to visit. Although, you and Harry would meet up sometimes to have lunch together in the city, Harrison would tag along once in a while as well.

“Harry made it home! That’s good news, I was worrying that they wouldn’t make it back on time for Christmas!” You hear someone talk in the background.

“Is that (y/n)?” A deep voice asks. You recognize it to be Harry’s. Nikki nods and motions at him to say hello. Sam and Harry’s heads pop onto the screen with silly grins.

“(Y/n)! Merry Christmas! You look beautiful!” Sam compliments you with a charming smile.

“Aw thank you Sam! You look handsome!” A light blush forms on the boy’s cheeks. Harry takes the phone and asks, “How’s the weather there? Has the storm died down?”

You glanced out the window and saw nothing but white. The storm had stopped yesterday, but there were some random snowfall here and there.

“Well it’s stopped for now, my backyard is literally nothing but white.” You chuckle as you turn your camera to show your spacious backyard.

“Oh! Isn’t that wonderful, we haven’t gotten much snow here this year.” You hear Dom comment. You turn the camera back to yourself and ask Harry, “How was the flight, Haz? Hope it wasn’t too bumpy.”

Harry hummed, “The plane departed when the storm died down so it was a decent flight. There was some turbulence when we got up in the air but it went by smoothly after.”

“At least you got home safe, that’s all that matters.”

“I’m quite surprised I handled the turbulence well on my own. I was getting anxious when the plane started to shake, but towards the end of the flight it was all good.” Your brows furrowed. It was a known fact that Harry wasn’t that good with turbulence (I made that fact up, he’s probably ok w/ turbulence idk). Since he usually traveled with Tom, he had to board many flights. Tom would be the one to calm his brother down when his anxiousness got the best of him. Which made you concerned because you knew Tom wouldn’t let his younger brother board a plane on his own while a snow storm was happening outside.

“Wait Harry, you were by yourself?” You began to question him. Harry was a grown adult, he’s 21, but it still concerned you.

“Yeah, Tom had to stay back since he had to film more scenes.” Harry answered.

“Oh. Did he at least make it back home before the storm?” You continued. A frown was on the boys lips.

“Nope, he got stuck in (your hometown). I was supposed to still be there with him, but he literally forced me to get on a flight home before Christmas.” Harry shrugged. A pout formed on your own lips at the thought of Tom getting stranded in (your hometown). Also the fact that he was probably alone during the holidays. Sure, you and him weren’t on the best terms, but it was Christmas. No one should be alone on Christmas.

You continued to talk to the Holland family for a few more minutes until they told you they had to go. You bid them all goodbye with kisses and a wave before hanging up. When the call ended, the smile on your face fell. You should’ve been happy. You were spending time with your family and it was Christmas Eve! But some things never change. As always, Tom had crept his way into your thoughts.

The breakup between you two was rough and messy. Though you should have seen it coming. There was a lack of communication on both sides of the relationship. You weren’t being honest with your feelings with him and neither was he. Of course, you understood his job. You knew he would have to travel long distances and be in a different time zone as you, he had to be gone for months, and had to work with some of the most beautiful actresses in the business. But there was something about this certain costar that didn’t sit right with you. You trusted Tom and knew that he would never cheat. You just didn’t trust her. You really tried to like her, even had some conversations with her when you went to visit Tom on set. But the way she would touch his arm whenever she would laugh or look at him the same way you would just made your blood boil. Maybe it was the green eyed monster in you that caused all these emotions, you just couldn’t help it. The green eyed monster had taken over you.

For months while Tom worked on that movie, you had been feeling your lowest. You were insecure about yourself and began to second guess things that occurred in your relationship with Tom. Which was not healthy, but it happens, you know? You hated the way you looked and how your body was shaped. You compared yourself to her even though you knew most of the pictures on her Instagram were very much edited. The more Tom got busy, the less he texted or called. Your relationship felt like it was drifting but you still made an effort. You would text him to ask about his day or to just say a simple “good morning” or “good night”. He never got the chance to reply most of the time, but when he did it would be a short response. It wasn’t like the paragraphs of him going on and on about his day and how great it was. Sometimes he would talk about getting a stunt correctly done in one take or how he would get his lines right the first time. You didn’t think much of the short replies, you usually chalked it up to him just being busy. But then you would see him on Harry or Harrison’s story at some restaurant gathered all together. Then she would also be there, nuzzled up against his side while his arm rested behind her chair. That should’ve been you.

You didn’t want to think that he was cheating on you, but the signs were literally there. You shouldn’t have fallen for them and should have talked it out with Tom instead of focusing on the scenarios that were created in your head. You knew Tom was smarter than that. He wouldn’t cheat on you, he promised you that he wouldn’t break your heart. Then those pictures from the club came out.

They were all over Instagram and Twitter. You had multiple fans tagging you on them and saw them everywhere on your feed. It was as if the world was trying to shove it into your face. The picture was taken at a club, it was the usual group of boys accompanied by some cast members from the movies. You assumed there had been some drinks involved, but Tom looked sober as ever. There were many pictures of them. There were some of them laughing, dancing, and drinking together. You spotted his arm wrapped around her waist or his hand touching her in almost all of them. Finally, there were the pictures of them practically sucking the lips off of each other’s faces. They disgusted you. The way his hands were combed through her hair or how they stroked her cheek reminded you of how he kissed you. You remember feeling sick to your stomach. The pain and the anger blended together as the tears blinded your eyes. It was like a bad dream that you couldn’t wake up from.

You realized you had been staring at your phone for the past 10 to 15 minutes. Tears welled up in your eyes as your memory began to remind you of the scar that Tom had left on your life. You felt the presence of the emptiness in your heart that you thought had healed months ago. You still love him. No matter the bullshit you went through with him, you’ve never loved anyone like Tom. The one you’ve been missing was the only thing that could fix the hollowness in your heart.

“You should invite him.” You jump as your mother makes herself present in the room. You place a hand onto your heart to calm its rapid beating.

“Geez, don’t do that.” You run a hand through your hair as you lean on the counter again. Your arms touch the cold marble, bringing some coolness into your warm body.

“You’ve been gone for about thirty minutes, it’s past twelve. Everyone was worrying about you.” You mother settled herself beside you, instead her back was leaning against the marble.

“You still love him.” She tells you quietly. You’re quick to react and stand up straight, “No I— ow my tongue!”

You whine as your teeth bite down on your tongue, your actions acting before your words.

“I don’t.”

“Really? If you didn’t love him anymore, you wouldn’t be talking to his family still or meeting up with his brothers during the weekend” you mother tilted her head at you, her arms crossed.

You shrugged, “They’re nice people.”

“You know, you should stop avoiding the truth. Denying your feelings and lying to yourself is only going to hurt you even more. I’m your mother, I hate seeing you hurt.” You turned to your mom.

“Don’t you hate him?” You asked her, voice quiet.

Your mother had a look of thought on her face, “Of course, I do, he broke your heart. But I don’t know, there’s just something about that boy.”

She snapped her fingers, “Ah! He reminds me of your dad!”

You raise a brow at her, “Tom reminds you of dad?”

“He does. I remember when we were younger, your dad made the same mistakes. I hated his guts but we crossed paths again somewhere down the road and I gave him a second chance. Now how many years later, we’re married with beautiful children and grandchildren.”

You remain silent as you stare at your phone again. You thought about asking Harry for Tom’s address but you were hesitant.

“He’s probably stuck here for a reason, (y/n).” Your mom says with a knowing look. You sigh rubbing the tiredness out your eyes. It had been a long day and you were low on energy.

“He could also be thinking about you right now.” She hummed, starting to make her way out the kitchen.

“How would you know?” You ask her.

“You bit your tongue.” She simply answers before turning the corner. You were alone in the kitchen staring at your phone once again. The debate in your head continuing throughout the night.

~The Next Day~

Your gloved hands gripped onto the steering wheel as you drove through the snowy roads. You were mindful to keep an eye out for any glossy patches to avoid getting into an accident. You turned on the street Harry sent you and peered out your window to look for the number of Tom’s rented house. Harry texted you that the house was a light gray color with black accents and had a 35 nailed to the door. When you spotted the house that matched Harry’s description, you pulled over and put the car in park. You hopped out the car, shivering when the brisk winter air came into contact with your face. Your boots sink into the snow as you trudge your way up to his door.

You get to his doorstep and began to stomp the snow off your boots. Taking a deep breath you brace yourself before you can ring his doorbell.

“It’s Christmas, he shouldn’t be alone on Christmas, this is why you’re doing this.” You mumble to yourself. You started to shake but you weren’t sure if it were your nerves or the cold. It was probably both.

You finger hovered over the doorbell for a moment before you forced yourself to push it. A string of “fucks” began to play over and over in your head like a mantra.

You waited for a few seconds for him to answer but heard nothing. You debated on ringing the bell again but your feet were already turning you away from the door, too scared to face Tom again. You were about to step off his doorstep when you heard footsteps behind the door. The lock clicked and the door opened to reveal Tom, looking disheveled as ever.

His eyes widen when he realizes it was you who rang his bell. His mouth is agape as he tries to form words. The only thing he could muster out is, “(y/n).”

“Hey.” You breath out, taking him in after avoiding him for months straight. You slowly approach him, settling to stand a few feet away from him. His hair had grown out a bit longer and there was a shadow of some facial hair on his face. You noticed that his eyes were a bit dark, almost blank. It was as if the light in his eyes had disappeared.

“What—What are you doing here?” He began to ask. He rushes to add, “Not that I don’t want you here, I’m actually really glad you’re here, but—um. I’m just— hi.” He sighs, shoulders slumping. He eyes you for a second before jumping on his feet.

“How rude of me, do you want to come in? It’s freezing out here.” He moves to the side and opens the door wider so you can walk in. You didn’t want to enter his place but the warmth of the house and the familiar scent of Tom entranced your senses.

You wiped your boots on the doormat and quietly thanked him as you walked into his rented home. You noticed that Love Actually had been playing on the tv while the couch was occupied with a bowl of popcorn and an abandoned Sherpa blanket. You loosen the scarf around your neck and turn to Tom who was already looking at you.

“So, what brings you around? Thought you didn’t want to talk to me ever since what happened.” His voice is strained as he leans against the doorway to the living room.

“Paddy called me on FaceTime yesterday.” You started. Tom sighed, shaking his head at his younger brother. You wave him off, “Don’t worry, I didn’t mind. He actually helped me avoid a family argument about Mac and Cheese.”

Tom was looking down at the floor but you saw his cheeks slightly raise, “Yeah, you never did mind Padd’s eagerness.”

“Well, he’s adorable. Anyway, I ended up talking to Harry and he said that you got stuck here during the blizzard. Also, that you were spending the holidays alone.” You began to explain rocking on the balls of your feet. You turn to his tv, the voices from it murmuring quietly, “So, if you’re done watching Love Actually for the hundredth time, um, you could come over at my place and spend Christmas with my family.”

Tom pushes off the wall and slowly shuffled towards you. His arms are crossed, something he did when he felt nervous or awkward.

“I wouldn’t want to impose, (y/n).” He finally looks up at you, his familiar brown eyes that you missed so much sending comfort into your body.

“Mom insisted.” A hint of a teasing smile played on your chapstick covered lips. No matter the situation between you and Tom, you knew he could never turn down your mother. He adored your mother, he always remembered the time when you first introduced him to her. She welcomed him with open arms and treated him like he were her fifth child.

He lets out a laugh, looking down at himself, “Guess that means I should clean up then?”

He was wearing a grey jumper with black sweatpants. A blue beanie was on his head, the ends of his curls peaking out, and his feet were covered in socks to keep him warm.

“Yeah.” You breathed out, relieved that he agreed to come and you didn’t embarrass yourself.

Tom begins to dust off the couch and moves the popcorn bowl to the coffee table. He sloppily folds the blanket and fluffs the pillows.

“I might take a while, so why don’t you get comfy?” He suggests.

“Sounds good.” You hum and unwrap the scarf from your neck. Tom is by your side at an instant and takes it from your hand. He motions at your jacket causing you to unzip it. He shuffles behind you to help you remove your arms from the sleeves. You turn around to thank him while moving your hair to rest on one side of your shoulder. You catch him staring at you once again.

“What?”

“You just look really beautiful.” He immediately answers. You’re about to respond but Tom begins to talk again, “I—I know I have no place in telling you that, but you just are.”

“Thanks, Tom.” You quietly say. He nods and moves to hang your things on the coat rack. He’s about to head up the stairs but he turns around to look at you again.

“Can we talk after?” His tone is soft, as if he were afraid of breaking the peacefulness between the two of you.

“Yeah. Yeah, we can talk.”

~⏰~

You wait in the living room for Tom to get himself ready. You try to watch the movie but all you can think about was what Tom and you could possibly talk about. You knew it would be about the breakup, but what else was there to discuss?

You heard Tom make his way down the stairs. Your eyes avert themselves to where Tom was coming from. He wore a dress shirt that had white and cream colored stripes going down it, pairing the shirt with dark jeans and dress shoes. His outfit wasn’t too fancy nor casual, it was perfect for Christmas Day with your family.

The smell of his cologne lingered it’s way to your nose. You recognized the smell even months after not seeing Tom. It was the cologne you had gotten him for his birthday. He fell in love with it the moment you gave it to him and had been wearing it ever since. You honestly thought he would switch it up after the breakup, but according to your nose, he hasn’t.

Tom presents himself to you, standing a few feet away from where you were sitting. “How is this? Too much?”

“You’re good, it’s spot on.” You reassure him. Tom hums in approval before settling himself beside you.

This was it. You guys were finally going to talk.

Tom rubs his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees. He looks at you over his shoulder, “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, hasn’t it?”

“Or talked.” You add with a slight shrug. An awkward silence placed itself upon you two.

Tom was the first to speak, “I was a dick. I still am, but I was a dick back then for all the shit I put you through.”

You hesitate to answer but end up agreeing, “You were a dick. But we were both responsible for what happened.”

Tom shook his head, “No, don’t try to make me feel better. I know what I did was stupid and I should have been honest with you from the start. This was all my fault. I was a horrible boyfriend, everyone made me see that. Including my parents.”

Tom turns his body to face you, “I thought not telling you this would hurt you and I less, but it only made it a hundred times worse.” Your brows bunch together.

“What do you mean?”

“I know when we broke up I said a bunch of bullshit, but I just want to explain myself, please?” His eyes are pleading, almost glossy. You motion for him to continue.

“The thing that happened between me and her was all the studio’s plan. Though I’m not going to lie and say it was all their fault, because I also played a part in it. But that was how it started. They wanted us to put on a show and lead the fans on so it could be used as promo for the movie.” He admitted. Your mouth gapes at his confession. He was probably telling the truth, but it could’ve also been a front.

“And you’re telling me this now? What, did it take you eight months to come up with an excuse for cheating?” You angrily said. “And even if it was for promo, it’s still cheating, Tom! You knew you had a girlfriend when you agreed to go along with their stupid plan!”

Tom sighed frustratedly, rubbing his palms against his face, “I know, I know it sounds made up but I swear to you, (y/n) I’m telling you the truth!”

“Then why didn’t you tell me about it from the start? Did you really think lying was better than telling me the truth? I thought we were supposed to be honest with each other, you literally broke so many promises, Tom!” You stood up, the anger fuming in you growing too much for your body.

Tom stood up as well, “I only lied to you to protect you! I thought it would be better if you thought we were drifting apart than telling you I had to be publicly seen with a girl that’s not you! By the way, I wasn’t the only one who was being dishonest, so were you!”

“No, don’t turn this around on me! I wouldn’t have to had lie about my feelings if you would’ve told me the truth! This was all your fault Tom, you’re the one who agreed to some stupid pr stunt.” Your finger jabbed itself into his chest as you told him off about his doings.

Tom took your jabs as he shamefully looked down at his feet. “You don’t think I know that?”

“I know this was my fault, (y/n).” His tearful eyes lock onto yours. His jaw clenched as he tried to stop his tears from falling.

Your hand comes back to rest at your side, “If you knew it would break us up, then why did you agree to it, Tom?”

“Because it was either actually breaking up with you or agreeing to some stunt that’ll make me seem like some Hollywood hotshot who gets all the women.” He confessed. To Tom, it felt like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. But to you it felt the opposite. All the new information seemed as if it were piling up on you, making you overwhelmed.

“If I chose neither of them, I would’ve been fired from the film and they were planning on blackmailing me, so I chose the second option. I know it wasn’t the best decision, seeing how we are now. But it was the only choice where I would still be with you.” He explains leaning forward to her closer to you. Your arms crossed to form some kind of protection for yourself.

You had just realized that Tom forced himself into a stunt just so he can still be with you. It wasn’t the best option, but he chose the option where the two of you could still be together. You sighed not knowing how to react, it all just seemed like too much.

“I—Tom you can’t just tell me all of this and expect everything to be okay between us.” You run your hand through your hair. Your eyes watering from the frustration.

“I understand why you would keep it from me, but why did you wait so long? You could’ve said that eight months ago and I probably wouldn’t have hated you as much as I do now.” Your nails dig into your skin.

Tom looks up at you, ��You hate me?” He croaks out.

Your head tilts at him, “Why wouldn’t I hate you? I hate you—I’m supposed to hate you but I just can’t and I don’t know why. You’re just, you’re you and no matter how many times I try to hate you I just can’t.”

Tom shifts closer, his frame now towering over you. His fingers slightly brush against yours, causing a rush of electricity to shoot through your body.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything, I know I should have been honest and told you the truth. I know what I did wrong and I’m sorry.” He gently cups your face to look up at him. You missed the feel of his hands against your skin and couldn’t hold yourself back from nuzzling against his warm palms.

“I still love you so much, (y/n). I never stopped. I just—is it too late for a second chance? I know it’s not going to be the same as when we were together but I’m willing to try again. I promise I will try harder and I’ll be honest, I’ll do everything for you to be mine again. All I want is just another chance.” His thumbs brush against your cheeks. Your hands come up to grip onto his wrists.

“Tom, I don’t know.”

“Please (y/n), it’s been so hard without you. Please I just need you again. I miss you so much, everything’s been going wrong ever since you left and I feel empty. I’m not complete without you.” His voice cracks as he begs for you to give him a chance. You stare at him for a moment and your mother’s voice echos in your head.

“He’s probably stuck here for a reason, (y/n).”

Maybe your mother had a point. Things happen for a reason and maybe this was one of this moments.

Your thumbs stroke the skin of his wrist, “Fine, I’ll give you another chance Tom.”

A look of relief is on his face as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush against his chest. You feel his heart beating rapidly against your chest as he shoves his face into your neck.

“Thank you.” He mutters against your skin multiple times. “I promise I won’t screw it up, I’m serious.” He pulls away to make sure you’re looking into his eyes.

“I’m trusting you to keep that promise. You’re only getting one chance, Tom.” You warn him. Tom nods eagerly.

“I know, I know, I’m not going to mess this up I swear. I’m going to prove that you could trust me again, I’ll do anything.”

You smile before pressing a light kiss on his cheek, “Ok, if you’ll do anything, then we better get going. Mom’s probably wondering what’s the hold up.”

“Right. Yeah, um before we go. If you want to talk more about what happened before or have any questions, you could ask me anytime. I just dumped all of this on you unexpectedly and it probably feels like a lot.” He offers.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

~⏰~

You and Tom arrived at your house to Christmas music blaring from the tv’s speakers and the happy chatter of your family. Your mom spots Tom at the doorway and her face lights up.

“Tom, you came!” She climbs her way through the mass amounts of wrapping paper and your niece and nephews. Tom meets her halfway and helps her remove the wrapping paper that had stuck onto her pants. She pulls him into a hug, which Tom returns immediately.

“Thank you for inviting me.” He smiles as your mom pats his cheek fondly. She waves him off, “Please honey, no one should be alone for Christmas.”

They continue to talk as your mother leads him into the living room. You see him greeting your siblings and cousins, a shy smile on his face as he shakes their hands. You couldn’t help but stare at him as he interacted with your family. It made you feel whole and warm inside, as if the emptiness in your heart was finally recovering.

You were taking off your boots when a shadow fell upon you. You look up to see Tom standing above you. “Need help?”

“No, I almost had it, the knot’s too small for my nails to undo it.” You mutter as your fingers continue to fumble with the knot. Tom kneels in front of you and gently removes your fingers from your boot.

“Let me do it, I know how fussy you get when you mess up your nails.” You smile fondly at him. The fact that he remembered how you hated messing up your nails after getting them done made the butterflies in your stomach erupt.

He gets the knot undone successfully and pulls off your boot. He holds a hand out for you and you take it. You stand up and thank him before glancing at your clothes.

“I’m gonna go upstairs and clean myself up for lunch. I’ll be back.” You place a hand on his shoulder before turning to go up the stairs. You feel his hand grip onto yours, pulling you back.

“I’ll save you a seat beside me?”

You squeeze his hand, “Yeah, I appreciate it.”

He watches you head up the stairs till the moment you turn the corner. He couldn’t believe you were back in his life. You haven’t changed at all in the months you’ve been apart. You were still beautiful and radiant as ever. He was so thankful for whatever gods that allowed him to have a second chance with you. You were all he wanted and he wasn’t going to screw it up like last time.

Your mother had called for everyone to sit at the table and you still weren’t there. Thirty or more minutes had passed since you went upstairs and so far he’s been catching up with your siblings and cousins. He’s also been dragged into playing “race cars” with your nephews and “princesses” with your only niece. Everyone had slowly shuffled into your dinning room but you were still missing. Tom even hung back in the living room for a while to see if you would catch up.

You mother spotted Tom looking back at the stairs as he decided to join your family in the dining room. She approached him and turned him towards the stairs, “Why don’t you go and check on her, tell her lunch is ready.”

Tom nods and climbs up the stairs. He’s been to your home multiple times while you two were together so he wasn’t lost. He found your door and knocked on it.

“I’ll be down in a sec!” He hears you yell from behind the door.

“Your mom said to call you down for lunch and see what’s been taking you so long.” Tom leans against the wall as he wait for you to open the door. The lock clicks and you pull it open. Your hair was in loose curls and there was some light makeup on your face. You weren’t in the jeans and sweater you were in earlier, now you were dressed in a white sweater and grey knee high boots.

“Hey.” He greets you. “You ready?”

“Yeah, I think I am.” You close the door behind yourself and stand across from Tom. He notices a shimmer around your neck. The silver chain with a circle charm hanging from it caught his eyes.

“You still have that?” He points out stepping closer to you. You glance at the necklace, “Of course I do. You gave it to me for my birthday.” Your fingers envelope around the charm, fiddling with it.

“You look stunning.” He says.

“Thanks.” The two of you stand there for a moment before Tom’s stomach grumbled.

“I think we should get going.” You laughed as you hooked your hand with his.

The two of you sat side by side at the table. He was a gentleman as always. He pulled your seat out for you and pushed it in once you were settled. He helped passed the dishes to you and even insisted on placing the food onto your plate. Lunch had gone smoothly, it was only filled with laughs, some catching up, and the stories your parents would tell at the table every year.

Your parents were in the middle of retelling their first Christmas together with your older brother, their first born. Your parents were reminiscing about the pearl ring your father gave her and how much it meant to her. You were listening to your parents when you felt a hand grip onto yours under the table. You glance down to see Tom had placed his hand above yours. His large hand enveloping your smaller ones.

“You alright?” You lean closer to him so only he can hear you. Tom squeezes your hand as a small smile forms on his lips.

“Yeah, I’m just glad to be here. Thank you.” He whispers. Your other hand covers his, your thumb stroking the top of his hand.

“So am I.” For the first time in those months apart, you finally felt like everything was complete again. Sure, you two had many things to work out and discuss. But right now, all you can think about was the man sat beside you. You weren’t missing him anymore, he was right there beside you. He was actually with you. All you wanted for Christmas was the one you’ve been missing and after eight long months of pain and longing, your wish finally came true.

[keanureevesisbae]

Christmas with John Wick

Summary: John Wick is about to spend his first Christmas in years.

John Wick x clumsy!reader

Wordcount: 1.9k

Warnings: None

A/N: This is my one shot for the gift exchange! Thank you @overheardatthecontinental​ for this lovely idea. It has been quite some time since I wrote for John Wick and it sure was fun. @ladyreapermc​ I hope you like it 🥰 Merry Christmas everyone!!

John hadn’t celebrated Christmas since Helen died.

Actually, he hadn’t celebrated any holiday at all after the passing of his late wife four years ago and he figured he would never do that again. While the world around him would celebrate days like Valentines Day, Thanksgiving and Christmas, he would sit on his couch, staring at the fireplace with his loyal canine sitting next to him to keep him company.

However this year, that is not the case, all because he met the love of his life: Y/N. He remembers it clearly, seeing her for the first time. March 21st, the first day of spring. He went to his favorite cafe, to order a simple cappuccino, a tradition he started since the beginning of this year. While everything was the same as usual, the presence of the world’s biggest scatterbrain he has ever seen, was out of the ordinary.

She walked in, her head practically buried in her purse. She wore a pink midi dress, paired with white sneakers and when she finally looked up, he saw her pink lips and her beautiful sparkly eyes.

John didn’t believe in love at first sight, but after locking eyes with her, the beautiful woman smiling at him, he was put in severe doubt.

Every day he would see her in the cafe. Sometimes she dropped her money, her entire bag or worse: her coffee. Seeing her muttering apologies made his heart flutter. When she dropped her lipstick and it rolled towards him, he picked it up, so he could hand it back to her. Yet again he was met with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, including the glimmer in her eyes and right there and then, he fell head over heels in love with her.

John thought of her quite a lot, in and outside the cafe. However, when this human form of adorable asked for his name and introduced herself, she was on his mind 24/7. He was looking forward on seeing her in the cafe again and again and again.

Y/N. He kept thinking about her name, how well it matched her personality and how it sounded like a beautiful symphony. For hours on end he kept wondering whether or not he should ask her out. Should he ruin what the two of them already had? A nice good morning exchange every day? Some small talk?

Besides, there was always the opportunity of being turned down. She was breathtakingly gorgeous and way out of his league. Why would she even agree to going out with him?

However, when she greeted him one morning, said his name with her beautiful voice and even touched his arm, he decided to go for it and ask her out.

On April Fools day.

After frantically trying to explain to her that he was definitely not kidding and he was for real, she said yes. He couldn’t believe that on the day of the jokes, he a) had a date and b) had his first kiss in years.

Y/N was and is the best thing that could ever happen to John. He loves waking up next to her and going to the cafe together instead of alone. Simply not being alone with his loyal dog, was all he ever wanted, but never in a million years he thought he would get that.

John watches the love of his life roam through the store, taking in every section of the Christmas department, as he walks behind her with the packed cart.

‘John, honey,’ she says as she spins around to look at him. ‘This is so adorable, look at it!’ She shows him a single Christmas ornament of a pitbull. ‘He looks like Tito, doesn’t he?’

While he never consciously named his dog and simply referred to him as “Boy”, Y/N couldn’t stand the fact the canine did not have a name. Besides, she couldn’t whistle, so calling him became a pain.

She tried tons of names. Bodie, Hunter, Jesse, Victor and even Rudolph, but the dog didn’t respond. Until she tried the name Tito as a joke. While John wasn’t necessarily a fan of the name Tito (he actually hated it, joke or not), he saw how Y/N’s eyes lit up when the dog responded to her, nearly wagging his tail off.

And then he realized the pitbull was indeed a Tito.

‘Put it in the cart, sweetheart,’ he says. ‘If, of course, you can find an empty place to put it.’

Y/N stares at the cart and while she scrunches up her nose, she lets out a sigh. ‘I’m going a little overboard, aren’t I?’

He can’t help but chuckle. ‘Maybe a little bit, but I don’t mind,’ he says, as he looks in the cart, filled with lights, garlands and edible and non-edible ornaments.

‘You are paying for all of this and this ornament alone is ten dollar, which is way too expensive for one single ornament.’

She already walks away, but John grabs her hand and pulls her back. ‘We’re buying this one, sweetheart. I don’t care this alone is ten dollars, I really don’t.’ He lets go of the cart, so he can gently pull the ornament out of her hand.

‘John,’ she says, ‘I think everything in that cart is worth over five hundred dollar. I honestly don’t know what I was even thinking. I guess it’s for the best if we put some stuff back.’

‘We are not putting anything back. Remember, this is our first Christmas together. I want it to be as memorable as we can make it and all of this,’—he nods towards their cart—‘is a necessity to make our Christmas perfect.’

‘Are you sure?’ she asks. ‘I mean, it’s quite a lot. Stuff wise and money wise and I don’t want you to regret it.’

���More than sure.’ He presses a kiss on her forehead. She always worries about money, insists on paying for the coffees and other dates, but he never lets her. He adores spending money on her and this… All the Christmas stuff, is only the beginning of the many Christmases they are going to spend together.

The beginning of their future together, because he is positive they are never going to break up. Maybe it’s too optimistic… Maybe, but if it were up to him, he’d never let her go. ‘I’m gonna say this one more time: don’t you ever worry about money again. I’ve got you, darling.’

The two of them stroll through the store some more and Y/N puts some more necessary stuff in the cart. They end up buying Christmas stuff worth a little over seven hundred dollars. John senses an upcoming heart from both the cashier and his girlfriend. While he pays with his card and pretends not to notice, he places his hand on her lower back. ‘Remember to breath, darling,’ he whispers, as the two of them walk to the car. ‘It’s just money.’

After a quick drive back home, they are greeted by Tito. And with them, he means Y/N, because Tito simply ignores John. Sometimes it makes him jealous to see his dog is almost claiming his girlfriend, but he is also forever grateful they get along this amazingly.

‘We are going to decorate our house today!’ she tells the pitbull, who shakes his entire butt as he wags his tail in excitement. ‘I even bought you a stocking, do you like that?’ She kisses the top of his head, before walking towards the table. While John carries the boxes and bags inside, Y/N’s full attention is directed towards her beloved notebook, where she scribbled down what she has planned for his place.

Originally she wanted to decorate her own studio, like she usually did before they started dating, but he keeps telling her that his place is her place. It’s hard for her to believe that, however she barely is at her own studio anymore. She does, on the other hand, still refer to their place as solely his place.

Maybe decorating it will change her mind.

John walks up to her, stands behind her and buries his face in her nape, taking in her lovely perfume. ‘Okay, darling, what’s the plan?’ he asks against her skin, wrapping his arms around her.

‘First the tree,’ she tells him, ‘then the stairs. Everything we have left, we’ll find a spot for that, I can guarantee.’

🎅🏻 🎅🏻 🎅🏻

It took them six hours before they finally decorated the stairs, the tree and the rest of the place. Six hours! It’s safe to say his girlfriend might’ve gone a tad overboard. Everywhere John goes, there is something Christmas related, however he wouldn’t want it any other way.

‘Darling, you need help?’ he asks from the couch, while Y/N is preparing something in the kitchen.

‘No,’ she yells back. ‘Just adding some sprinkles and then it’s all done.’ Not long after she told him that, she walks into the living room with a tray in her hands. ‘Two hot chocolates,’ she says with a smile, placing the tray on the little table in front of the couch and she hands him a mug. ‘Not to brag, but my hot chocolates are the best in the entire world. In fact, they are that good, you might want them all year around.’ Y/N sits next to him with her own white mug she took from her own place. ‘Cheers,’ she says with a smile.

John takes a small sip of the drink and hums in content. ‘This is delicious, darling.’

‘And?’ she pushes with a smile.

‘And I might want this all year around.’

‘Very good,’ she laughs. ‘Oh, look at you.’ She wipes the whipped cream off his nose, before leaning over to him, pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ he says to her, ‘I love you so much.’

‘I love you too and once again: I’m sorry for totally overdoing it and having you working like a dog, because I had unrealistic ideas.’

John simply scoffs, before chuckling. ‘None of that. Besides, I managed to make your ideas reality, so how unrealistic were those ideas.’ He wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer to his body. ‘I like it a lot and there is a slight possibility I’m not going to take this down anytime soon.’

The entire night, they spend drinking hot chocolate, watching cheesy Netflix Christmas movies and after a while, his girlfriend fell asleep in his arms. Thankfully she was already wearing her pajamas, so he carries her upstairs, walking passed the Christmas lights woven into the bars of the stairs. John places her in their bed, pressing multiple kisses on her cheek, before he quickly goes downstairs, to lock the doors and turn off some lights.

John passes the lit up Christmas tree and his eye falls on a picture. He didn’t know this was in here. He bends towards the picture, so he can see it up close. It’s a picture of him and Helen. Y/N knows about Helen and she looks at their pictures quite a lot—she even told him to put some up.

And now she placed one in the tree. His Y/N sure is a special one and truly one of a kind.

He smiles at the picture, thinking about Helen telling him to make most out of his life after she passes. It took him awhile, but he is finally getting there. Finally getting to a place where he is happy again.

‘I’m going to have a Merry Christmas, Helen,’ he whispers. ‘I hope you do too from wherever you are.’

🎅🏻 🎅🏻 🎅🏻

[lokidiabolus]

The Deal - Chapter 1

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (web series)

Pairing: Alastor / Angel Dust

Warnings: human!Angel Dust (Anthony), Deal with a devil AU

Summary: Sometimes you had nobody to spend the Christmas with. Sometimes you didn’t want to. Sometimes you took a chalk and drew a pentagram on the floor fully ready to deal with anything that would come out as an alternative to self-pity occurring otherwise.

or

The time when Anthony thought if he can't get anybody to love him properly, he can just make a deal with a devil and find out what affection feels like. Alastor thinks this mortal is pitiful beyond belief and concede. Cuddles happen.

Can be found on Ao3.

Notes: I'm absolutely new to Hazbin Hotel, watched Addict first (thanks youtube) and was like holy hell, is there more of it somewhere? What is this?! And then found the Pilot and here I am. This is just me indulging in what my mind threw out one day, and while it's not very canon compliant, it's just my tribute for this intriguing universe and sort of a comfort fic, I guess (although there is one darker bit, but yeah). I read several fics before even writing this and kind of got stuck with the "deal with a devil" one as a starting point, even though I much more prefer settings in canon version. Yet somehow this was basically writing itself, so maybe next time :')

Also, English is not my first language. This is not betad and there is this thing with Alastor's proper speech I basically just winged by not shortening anything lmao. Therefore apologies if it's not very accurate - the same thing with Angel and his accent. I plan to add more to this and even a bit of a "in hell" part, but so far I'm just winging it.

Unbetad!

***

2019, 24th

Christmas was a day full of magic. Day majority spent with their loved ones, with their family, their spouses, in peace and joy. TV promoted Christmas as if it was the only day that ever mattered in the whole year way back to October, where people were still wondering what costume to wear for Halloween, yet already seeing Christmas ornaments and ideas of presents that were overpriced but pretended to be on sale. It was a day of good food, relaxing atmosphere and snow falling from the heavy clouds while flames were crackling in the fireplace, warming homes of the blessed.

The blessed were not as numerous as the TV would give out, obviously. Rarely anybody had a fireplace at home. Rarely anybody considered Christmas as the best day in the year because it stressed them with tons of preparations and last-minute calls to distant family members not attending the scarcely enjoyable Christmas dinner. There were quarrels, there were misunderstandings, there were old grudges coming to life and sometimes it ended in tears instead of happy evening it advertised.

Sometimes you had nobody to spend the Christmas with. Sometimes you didn’t want to. Sometimes you took a chalk and drew a pentagram on the floor fully ready to deal with anything that would come out as an alternative to self-pity occurring otherwise.

Anthony finished the outer circle of the pentagram with a light tap and peered once more into the book he drew it from – a leather bound journal he got on his 21st birthday from an acquaintance that thought satanism is the right answer to his plight – ironically he only knew a sliver of it back then. Maybe if he heard the whole story, he would give him the whole devil with a big knife to help, who knew. Anthony forgot about the book for 10 years while it rested stashed in the topmost drawer in the bedroom, waiting for life to get hard enough to pop back into Anthony’s conscience.

Well, now it did. When Anthony went through the yellowed pages, it felt surreal somehow, like a forbidden knowledge taking place in the back of his mind. There were no incantations, no summoning words that would specify or make this feel like from a bad movie – it was just the pentagram, two circles, and five symbols at the peaks done neatly on the wooden floor. The only huh, this may be a real deal addition was the blood Anthony had to provide for the summoning to complete, as the journal stated.

The blood of the desperate soul will seal the deal with the answering.

Anthony thought it was good enough, he was desperate plenty. And if it didn’t work, he would just have to do some cleaning, because who knew how badly the blood would stain the wood. He put down the chalk and the journal on the sofa and stood up, admiring his work from above. The living room sure did look more interesting with the pentagram gracing majority of the floor now, with armchair and the table pushed away to make space.

Anthony reached for the knife he prepared for the occasion, a small sharp thing he normally used for cooking rather than himself (unless it was an accident while cutting veggies) and peered again at the pentagram. The TV buzzed behind him with Christmas songs and snow was falling heavily outside, padding the streets with fake diamonds.

God rest ye merry gentlemen Let nothing you dismay Remember Christ our Saviour Was born on Christmas Day

He took a deep breath and gently touched his palm with the edge of the knife, adding pressure and then easing it back down, his heart slowly picking up the pace. Sure, nobody knew what would happen. Maybe nothing. Probably nothing. But maybe something, right?

To save us all from Satan's power When we were gone astray Oh tidings of comfort and joy Comfort and joy Oh tidings of comfort and joy

He tried again and the sharp edge bit into his skin almost unexpected, leaving behind a cut quickly filling with dark red, flowing Anthony’s palm like a well. He closed his hand with a sigh and turned it down above the circle, staring at the red streaks forming at the peak and then dropping down into the middle of the pentagram, splattering against the wooden boards like rubies.

In Bethlehem, in Israel This blessed Babe was born And laid within a manger Upon this blessed morn The which His Mother Mary Did nothing take in scorn

Anthony watched the red forming a small puddle, his eyes taking in the shape and the colour and counted his breaths in wait. He took a note of every odd noise and every change of air, but nothing came but the song from the TV, buzzing at the edge of his mind.

Oh tidings of comfort and joy Comfort and joy Oh tidings of comfort and joy

He gulped down the disappointment and turned his palm back up, ending the blood flow like a tap on the water with a tissue. What was he expecting anyway? There was no higher power to end the misery or to lift it, only bitter life until the heart stopped beating and the flesh rotted away.

Fear not then, said the Angel Let nothing you affright This day is born a Saviour Of a pure Virgin bright To free all those who trust in Him From Satan's power and might Oh tidings of comfort and joy Comfort and joy Oh tidings of comfort and joy

What a mess, Anthony thought, looking down on the floor. The buzz of the TV twitched slightly, and he reached for the remote control with a sigh, turning it off. He felt tired despite not doing anything, but the thought of leaving the blood behind until morning and then dealing with it would definitely work against him.

The TV buzzed again, the song filling the room once more and Anthony froze, turning towards it in a glacier pace when he heard the chorus picking up too many voices. The room grew dim all of sudden as if shadows where climbing the walls all the way to the ceiling, swallowing up any light in the process.

Ğ̸̤̳o̶̪̪̿̽d̵̨̢͛ ̵͕̜̔̐r̵̖͘e̶̜͎͛s̶͓̫͂̿ť̸͎͘ ̵̻͇̈y̴̺̆̒e̷̫̤̍̒ ̶̫͔̾̎m̷̝̠͆e̷̲̊̓r̴͈̅r̷̛͜ẙ̷̥ ̵̙̜̀g̴̯̀e̴̳̫͝ň̷͕̑t̵̮̞̓̿ľ̶͎̑ē̸̙͔̿m̴͔͊e̸̦̳͐͘n̶̢̠̈́,̸̻̗̾ ̸̢͋̒ľ̵͙ͅe̶͈̻̕͝ṱ̶̛̗̽ ̶̺̒̚ň̵͎͗o̴̧͛ţ̷̗̾̚h̵̛͚i̶̭̅̇n̷̞̋g̵̢̹̿͂ ̴̱͉̑ÿ̸̜̳́o̸͙͖͐û̴͇ ̷̧͊͘d̴̨͐i̶̛̤͙s̷͕͔̚m̷̗̯͆̎a̵̞̒̓y̴͍͚̏͘.̸̜̏͝ ̴̢̤̅R̷̘̚ͅē̶̗̆ḿ̸̖̲é̴̯͖͠m̴͉͓̈́̃b̵͈̺́e̶̠͒͊r̷͔̠͌̌ ̴̺̻̒̽C̷̡͘h̷̥͆r̵̜̳̓ḯ̷̞͍̀ș̸̐̀t̶̜̑́ ̵̨̈́͠o̵͙̪͐͠ṵ̶̇̋ŕ̴̟̌ ̸̡̜̑͋S̷̜͐ͅå̵͇̳v̴̛̙̒i̷͚̊̌ơ̸̬u̶̠̎r̵͈̬̔̓ ̷̯͓͊̌w̵͕̄̚ḁ̶̐s̶͙̏̇ ̷̥̱̄̍b̵̛͖̔o̷͉̠̅̏r̸̠͈͌̅n̷̤͊ ̷͇̐ͅo̵̠͐n̷̹͗ ̷̺̙͒͋C̸̫͝h̵͎̮͒r̷͎̝̈́i̶̡̒̿s̴̠̣̚t̴̰̍m̸̨̟̑a̶̼̒s̶̭̝̔͝ ̸͉͌D̵̂ͅa̷̾̆͜ÿ̶̢̠́̚ ̶̱̈́ţ̵̫̽̿o̴͕̘͆ ̴͖̔̂s̴͕͂͊a̶̞͑v̸̙͑̈́e̵̛͈͙ ̷̝̲̄͐ȕ̶̪̠̐s̶̠̃ ̴͉̱͋̅ã̵͈̀l̵͉̮͑l̷̥̔̀ ̶̯̆̕f̷͓͚͑̕r̵̼̽ȍ̴̹͉̑m̸̡͔̒ ̸͚̔̚Ș̶͍̂a̴̝͆t̶̮͑ͅȁ̸̯̅ņ̵̿͊'̶̟̚͝s̵͌͠ͅ ̶͕̍̓p̴͙͝õ̴̢̐ẇ̴͓e̶͈͘r̷̝͍̅̽ ̵̼̈͑w̴͙͒͝h̸̜́e̸̠̫̚n̷̮͊ ̷̝̺̕w̸̛̗̣̓ę̶͂͌ ̸̣̃̑w̶̱̓̈́ͅè̸̪̈́r̴̓́ͅe̶͓͌ ̵̮̙̃g̴̩̻̉͝o̷̠̜̿n̷͕̭͋̿e̶̜͔͋ ̶̮́̔å̴̧̹͂ṡ̵̲ṫ̵̬r̷̝̅̌a̶̖̬͊͘y̸̨͋̄.̷̡͖̈͊ ̷͇̇̉Ò̸͖̏h̴̥͎͝͝ ̷̲͚́͝t̷̘́̔ȋ̵͈d̴̳̬̃i̵̝̹͗̀n̷̺̋g̵̗̒̔s̸̘̰̾ ̵̻̘͛̄ő̶̅͜f̷̗̍̔ ̵̺̲̀c̵̼̒͌o̷̮͝m̶͍̕f̶͍̱͐o̵͇͆̏ṟ̸̏͜ṯ̴̓ ̴͈͒ạ̷̈́͆ṇ̴̛͙d̷̼͋͝ ̴̰͎̚̕j̶̼͉̔̽ŏ̸͎͐y̵̦͖̋,̶̦̓ ̶̖͐̕c̶̙͝͝o̸̫͇̓͌m̸̧͗̃f̶̞̎ọ̸͗r̷̃̇ͅẗ̵̛̳̱́ ̵̥̐͂͜a̴̫͛ṅ̶̤͠d̷͎̔̏ ̶͐ͅj̵͕͇̎ò̵̳̪̇y̶̩̓͜.̴̪̜̇̚ ̸̘̣͑Ō̷̫̓h̸̥̄͘ ̵̩̖̆t̷̻̏ï̷̙ḑ̴̋i̶͈͂n̶͓͎̿̇g̵̳̓ͅs̶̭͎̕ ̵͚̖̌̚ȍ̸̤̬̚f̵̦̭̈́ ̶̙͕͝c̷̺̒ô̸̩m̴̝̠̐ḟ̴̲̠̃ò̷̤͔́r̶̛̞̳̀t̴͈͚͛ ̶͓̅̿ả̸̠̣̔n̴͔͔͑d̷̬͍̊ ̴̧̯̉̈́j̷͓̫͒̈o̵͎͎͊y̵̛̫̾.̷̠̿̔

The TV gave another set of buzzes and then died out, the room falling into creepy silence.

“What a lovely song,” a staticky voice rang through the stillness and Anthony forgot how to breathe for several seconds. A voice meant somebody was in the room. In the room where he summoned a devil. So that meant a devil was in the pentagram right now, right? A real deal. Expecting anything, from a winged abomination to a devilish imp, Anthony turned back towards the pentagram and… found it empty.

“What?” he breathed out, confused. Was it just a broadcast? It sounded like an old radio or something.

“Sixteenth century, I believe,” the staticky voice rang again and Anthony realized it was on his left instead and when he looked that way, he sure did find a body it belonged to – a man sitting on his couch, legs crossed primly, crimson eyes locked to Anthony’s frozen form in the middle of the room. He was fully dressed in pinstriped red suit with black accents, his gloves looked like they had claws at the end, tapping against a cane he was holding with light clink clink clink against the metal. Anthony couldn’t decide what to make of his face – was it handsome or scary? The red, unblinking eyes were staring right into his soul and his mouth was split in a grin he couldn’t place as happy or pleasant, more like unnerving. The red hair framing his face were trimmed right at his chin with black ends that continued shorter to the back, probably giving him an undercut, though Anthony couldn’t see that from the angle he was sitting. Despite all that he didn’t look that… devilish as Anthony would think he would.

“This version is much nicer, I have to admit,” the man spoke again and then the TV buzzed once more with crackling static, filling the room with old recording of the same song, but definitely not as clean and enjoyable as the version playing before. “1917 Edison records recording. Very Christian.”

“Oh,” Aidan realized. Of course Christmas songs were Christian and he had them playing while summoning a devil – he could have sprayed everything with holy water and it would be the same welcoming sight. “Sorry.”

“You are forgiven,” the man remained seated on the sofa and Anthony glanced back towards the pentagram. The blood was gone from the centre.

“Shouldn’t you be in there?” he pointed towards the sign and the man tilted his head, his smile widening.

“No, this spot is much more comfortable,” he responded in kind and there was a laughing track afterwards. Did he have a radio with him? His voice sounded like was talking from one, but here he was, sitting in person in the room with no radio in sight. “But thank you for the treat nevertheless.”

Which was probably the blood. Anthony decided not to question it.

“Now tell me what you desire.” The question fell between them like a lead and Anthony felt the despair he managed to contain until now grow. He played it in his head several times – how he would word it, how to ask, what tone to use. Several scenarios playing the moment he decided to summon this being, but now, standing here with the opportunity, he couldn’t find his voice. He didn’t expect a normal looking person sitting on his couch like a therapist ready to take notes on his condition, despite all the red and radio going on with him. Were it an unholy picture of a demon with wings or horns or more (or less) eyes than was considered normal, it wouldn’t be so difficult.

“How about you sit down first, then?” the devil-incarnate gestured towards the armchair on his left and Anthony heeded the advice and dragged himself towards it, sitting down heavily. Now being on the eyelevel with the creature made it even more surreal. Were those antlers on his head? It didn’t look like horns he normally saw devils depicted with. They were almost hidden between the tufts of hair sticking up, but definitely present. Actually, his whole hairstyle was impressive, denying gravity like that.

“There, much more comfortable, is it not,” the devil crooned a let the cane touch the floor, resting his hand atop of it. Or, wait, was it a microphone? “Yours a troubled soul indeed. It is quite a heavy burden you are carrying.”

Anthony looked away, his throat tight. No, this definitely didn’t help, he felt like there was a hell file of him now, like the devil read the dossier and thought oh boy, this boy is fucked up beyond help and came to deliver a judgement worth hell and beyond.

“Maybe you would like to dispose of him?” Came a question. Anthony looked back at the man with wide eyes. “Or maybe torture him instead. He hurt you quite a lot. A simple death might not be enough satisfaction.”

A searing pain, blood, the stench of sweat and come, a chain and never-ending humiliation, a caress on his cheek, smearing the tears, suffocating, suffocating, suffocating-

“No,” he choked out, curling to himself.

“Would you like to do it yourself then?” the man in red gestured with his clawed hand and Anthony shook his head.

“No death,” he mumbled, his body shaking. “I don’t… I don’t wanna think about him. Or anything ’bout that. It’s gone now, it’s in the past.”

“If that pleases you,” his guest conceded.

It definitely didn’t please him but nothing about it would do any good anyway.

“Is there other wish then?” An inquiry. His voice was rather soothing, despite the static background, like a radio host.

“I just want…” Anthony started, his chest tight. “Love.”

“Love?” the man repeated, the confusion apparent in the tone.

“Love and affection and… home with someone, I… don’t wanna be alone,” Anthony let the words fall out while hugging his knees tighter to his body. “To have somebody to be with me. To love me. To care?”

There was no response and Anthony gulped down the tears that threatened to spill out. When nothing came out for a whole minute, he risked a glance towards the man and found him staring back with a raised eyebrow.

“Love and affection,” he finally repeated after Anthony, tone bewildered. “You do realize you summoned a demon, not a fairy god mother, yes?”

Anthony nodded.

“Love and affection cannot be wished upon anybody,” the demon tilted his head to the side. “Ironically by nobody, even fairies. They can make somebody infatuated, like a fever that hazes their brains, but that also disappears after a while, and usually does not have much to do with… affection.”

“Oh,” Anthony let out in disappointment. “Then… can ya kill me?”

The demon stared even harder now.

“Kill you,” he repeated.

“Painlessly?” Anthony added quietly. “Like… put me to sleep I wouldn’t wake up from?”

The demon sighed and uncrossed his legs so he could lean closer towards Anthony, his face frowning a little.

“Let us put death aside for now,” he said afterwards. “I came to an understanding this day and age opens unlimited possibilities for people to meet and have… affection spark. You are flattering to an eye, my effeminate fellow, surely finding a partner is not an obstacle in this day?”

“A man,” Anthony uttered in a response and the demon made a vague gesture.

“Does not change a thing, my dear,” he continued, the echo of the static buzzing. “Internet, was it? Open possibilities with establishments and support. This century is welcoming.”

“You mean dating apps?” Anthony scoffed, unhappy and the demon actually looked curious when he nodded. “All ya get from there is sex.”

“And?”

“And that’s it.”

“Not what you are after?” the question seemed peculiar and Anthony decided not to take it in a bad way.

“I don’t mind sex, but after all that…” he tried to explain quietly, but words were failing him. It was a part of how fucked up he was anyway. Normal person would never ever touch or let others touch them after all the abuse he went through, yet he was still pretty much open for anything sexual. It was something he was good at, even. It just felt… so empty. Like staring into an aquarium without a single fish in it.

“Understandable,” the demon leaned back to rest against the sofa, the invisible audience aaahed. “Surely not impossible to find somebody of the similar mindset though?”

“I’m…” Anthony took a breath. “Filthy.”

It took the demon back by the look of it.

“Beg your pardon?” He looked him over. “Filthy?”

Anthony nodded, hugging his sides again to stop the tremors.

“Having the baggage I have… it makes me undesirable. It’d come out sooner or later. Anybody learning about it would leave. Left. Will leave.”

The demon seemed to ponder that a bit, his expression thoughtful.

“Rather than put an effort into the search, you wish to make somebody fall in love with you instead?” It sounded accusing, but not wrong. Anthony couldn’t really deny it. It wasn’t like he wanted somebody concrete. He just wanted to experience it at least a little, without the endless worry about the truth coming out and the spell disappearing.

“And since it cannot be done, you wish to die,” the demon concluded, and Anthony hummed in defeat. His life was a series of failures, pains and loneliness. This kind of life… it was not worth living. Depressions, anxieties, states of utter self-hatred, drug hazes that ended with more self-loathing, he didn’t want this. If it made him weak, so be it. He deserved being looked down upon. He was like this since he was a child.

“What a silly, pitiful mortal,” the demon finally stood up. “But at least you made my job easy.”

And with that, everything faded to black.

***

Anthony woke up with a start, like a cold water roused him from depths of unconsciousness just to threaten him to plunge him back in with a heart-attack. He sat up straight like a bolt, chest heaving and cold sweat drenching his clothes before he took in the surroundings and realized it was just his bedroom drowned in darkness of the night, his own bed and nothing more.

Was it all just a dream? Or was this afterlife? A punishment for trying to escape the bitterness of living by plunging him into the same misery, but never ending? He felt cold but at the same time thirsty and that in the end pushed him out of the bed, despite risking a limb or two if this was some kind of purgatory and monsters were hiding under his bed.

He met with no surprises when he stepped into the living room, the floor was clean with no sign of blood or chalk, with furniture in the right places and cold night from the snow falling outside seeping through windows.

“Oh…” he let out quietly, gazing across the peaceful living room like nothing transpired there just a moment ago. Or was it an hour? A day? A lifetime? Or just a figment of his imagination? He shook his head and padded quietly to the kitchen. The knife he used to cut his hand with was resting peacefully in the knife holder and when Anthony opened his palm, there was no wound in sight. In a sense, it was rather disappointing. It’s not like he wanted to die and then endlessly suffer in hell for his crimes, but it wasn’t like he wanted to live either, like he was stuck in a limbo, waiting for something bigger to crush him under its heel.

He shook his head and filled the glass with water to drink it on the spot. Maybe it was just a strange, real like dream that would disappear in the morning without a trace, along with the red-clothed demon talking to him in a surprisingly soothing voice about killing a man that made his childhood and most of his teenage years a living nightmare. He kind of hoped to remember him though – for a demon he was rather nice.

He walked back to his bedroom with a sad sigh and almost screamed when he realized somebody was sitting on his bed, legs crossed and holding a book.

“You do seem rather unhappy with the fact you are still alive, dear,” sounded the staticky voice of the demon and Anthony cleared his throat, not daring to take another step. He was reading the leather-bound journal Anthony used to summon him and apparently didn’t mind the fact Anthony was gaping at him like a fish out of water.

“Well,” the human shuffled on his feet nervously. “I certainly didn’t expect to wake up, I suppose.”

“Terribly sorry to disappoint,” the man responded, obviously not sorry at all. “I just put you to sleep to have some time to think about your wish.”

“The death wish?” Anthony asked while trying to suppress the cold seeping into his bones. Well, he did stand there just in the shorts and a tank top with bare feet on the floor, so there was no wonder, but seeing the demon sitting on his bed, he didn’t want to risk going closer, even though so far he probably didn’t really have a reason to fear him.

“The affection wish,” the demon closed the journal with a quick snap and regarded Anthony with an evened stare. “While it is virtually impossible to grant it, there are roundabouts that could eventually lead to the outcome you seek.”

Anthony blinked, not sure what to say.

“Didn’t ya say killing me made your job easier?” he settled on a simple question and the demon stood up and gestured for him to come closer. Anthony hesitated, but the cold was starting to annoy him, so he left the spot at the door and walked towards the bed, where he promptly sat down.

“And it is not wrong,” the demon finally spoke when Anthony hid his feet under the covers. “It definitely would make this go fast and easy. But then you would be completely useless to me, and that kind of defeats the purpose.”

“What do you mean useless?” Anthony raised an eyebrow. “I’d be dead.”

“And in Hell,” the demon reminded him rather sweetly and Anthony paled. “You did not think summoning a demon would grant you a passage to Heaven, did you?”

Quite frankly Anthony didn’t give it much thought. The pressing matters were now, when he was alive, and what was after his death was a problem for dead Anthony. Sure, he didn’t expect to be welcomed in heaven anyway, since duh, gay, drugs and attempted murder, but he didn’t care as much, until the demon told him.

“Didn’t think I’d go to heaven anyway…” he mumbled more to himself than the demon, but the man chuckled anyway.

“Good, good,” he nodded in agreement. “Honestly… a weak-willed person makes a weak-willed demon. The more his psyche is disturbed, the less of a form and power he manifests in the purgatory. Those lesser shades are at the end of a food chain, useless even for a simple pawn. I have no use for these.”

Anthony tilted his head to the side, not quite grasping the concept. It didn’t look like the demon cared though.

“Therefore, granting you a quick death while you feel blue would not benefit me at all,” he continued while starting to pace through the bedroom. He looked rather excited, honestly, wildly gesturing as if he was telling his grandiose plans. “Which led me to your first wish, and as I said, while I am unable to grant it for you in its entirety as you would probably imagine it would go, I can make a deal with you instead.”

“Alright?” Anthony raised his knees under his chin and the demon finally stopped, looking right at him.

“I would be your partner,” he stated victoriously while the invisible audience behind a secret radio cheered, and Anthony blinked.

“Uh…”

“While I refuse to participate in anything sexual or intimate,” the man in red continued, “which apparently is not that big of a deal for you, I can provide, as you mortals call it, a human warmth. Which is a form of affection, yes?”

A human warmth, Anthony repeated in his mind. Was that a formal word for something or…

“Oh. You mean cuddling,” it dawned on him suddenly.

“Cuddling,” the demon repeated like he was tasting the word. Then nodded. “Yes, I assume that is the word.”

That… didn’t sound bad, really. Sleeping with a person without fear of needing to open his legs at the end of the night to be able to stay was something Anthony could get behind.

“Alright,” he agreed, making the demon smile widely again. “But.” The smile fell a little. “This is for the cost of my soul, right?”

“Why, yes, indeed,” the man in red didn’t sugar-coat it. “Or more precisely, your soul would belong to Hell, but your heart would belong to me.”

“Which means?” Anthony re-seated and crossed his arms on his chest. His guest watched him for several seconds from under black eyelashes, and then leaned closer, smiling wickedly.

“That you would be mine for eternity,” he purred sweetly, and Anthony felt rather conflicted on how to feel, because somehow it scared him, but at the same time it sounded kind of reassuring? “It is like an unbreakable contract. You would have to do my bidding.”

“Forever,” Anthony added.

“Oh yes. Forever or until you get eradicated.”

“Eradicated?”

“The dangers of Hell are numerous,” the demon retreated again, standing straight. “Which is probably not coming off as a surprise. But yes, your soul can be destroyed completely, which prevents you from being reborn. Or something like that, details are useless. Being reborn from Hell is more like a myth anyway.”

“Let’s leave it at… my heart will be yours sort of thing, alright,” Anthony nodded, which apparently pleased the demon, since he smiled again. “So, cuddling. But that’s not enough, the price is quite high.”

“Indeedy,” the demon fiddled with his microphone, twirling it between his fingers, and the audience clapped again. “Glad to see you are not a complete pushover, at least.”

Anthony rolled his eyes but didn’t comment on it.

“I want to eat dinners together, at least three times a week,” he lay down his first request and the demon seemed to ponder that. “And every second weekend I’d like to spend it together somehow too. Like… going out somewhere, or… even staying home, I mean, just… with the company. Watching a movie or ya know.”

It made the demon bark out a soft laugh, which quite frankly suited him. He was rather tall and intimidating from the get-go but laughing with sincerity softened it marginally. Anthony liked that kind of setup.

“This is the most bizarre wish I have ever granted,” the demon commented in amusement, but didn’t refuse, so Anthony considered it a green light. “But alright. Three days for dinners and then every second weekend. Does the three days count into the weekend or do they have to be separate days?”

“Separate,” Anthony immediately shot out, earning a thoughtful nod. “Also, rainy days.”

“Rainy days?” the red-haired man repeated. “Are those special somehow?”

“Somehow,” Anthony mumbled, “depressing.”

He earned a hum, which probably meant alright, and was glad when he wasn’t pushed to elaborate.

“Is that all then?” the demon prompted when Anthony kept quiet for too long, and the human hesitantly nodded. It wasn’t like he wanted much, honestly. Pretty sure any kind of relationship with a normal person would crash and burn in days anyway with all the insecurities he packed. But this man… he knew – if not all of it, then at least the worst of it – and he didn’t want anything from Anthony, except of his heart and not in a romantic sense. A deal like that… it sounded fair. Just having somebody to spend evenings with, easy and domestic.

“Actually…” he tried, and the demon gave him a questioning look. “What’s your name?”

“Call me Alastor.” The reply indicated the name was not real. “How uncouth of me, not introducing myself during all this time. Pleasure to meet you, Anthony.”

He offered his hand, clawed, with gloves red and black like the rest of him, and Anthony reached for it without hesitation.

“Anthony,” Alastor’s voice stopped him just a mere inch from touching. “Do we have a deal, then? If you take my hand, you cannot back out. Ever.”

A green sheen of light filled the room, menacingly reminding him Alastor was not a human and the deal wasn’t money or goods, but the cost of his soul and afterlife. There would be no backing out.

But was there ever?

Anthony smiled and closed the gap, tightly gripping the gloved hand in his.

“It’s a deal.”

Alastor’s smile widened and the green shine disappeared, leaving Anthony somehow exhausted. The demon seemed to take a note of that – or maybe it was normal when closing a deal with him – and pushed him back to the bed, which Anthony happily obliged with a tired sigh. He saw in the corner of his eye how his guest took down his red coat, folding it neatly on the back of the sofa near the bed, then slowly took off his shoes (Anthony couldn’t even be mad he had shoes on in his flat, it was far above his energy levels) and socks (red), unfurled the bowtie and opened first three buttons of the red shirt and then finally turned towards the bed, scanning it thoughtfully. Anthony rolled on his side, looking at him with half lidded eyes.

“Comin’?” he breathed out with a chuckle and Alastor nodded but remained on the spot, as if he were doing some advanced math on sleeping in one bed with another dude. Which he actually might have.

“Al..stor?” Anthony yawned and the demon finally stepped closer.

“I would like to sleep at the wall,” he requested simply, pointing at the steep angle of the partition that probably made the corner of the bed look like a safe spot. Little he knew any sudden movement up was going to meet his forehead, but Anthony didn’t feel like warning him for now.

“Sure thing,” he shuffled closer towards the open edge of the bed and that finally made Alastor move in, gracefully stepping over Anthony’s legs and then sliding into the vacant spot on the mattress, under the covers and towards his companion. A hand snaked around Anthony’s waist, pulling him back against Alastor’s front, and yeah, okay, the guy was quite warm indeed, that was nice.

“Comfy?” Anthony asked after few moments when the shuffling stopped and Alastor made a humming noise. Then: “No.”

Before Anthony could ask why, Alastor was pulling him back and turning him towards himself like a sack of potatoes, then grabbing him by the waist and almost suffocating him when he pushed Anthony’s head against his chest.

“Gee, warn a guy next time,” the human groaned into the red shirt. “Or is this an elaborate plan on how to kill me immediately after striking a deal, by suffocating?”

“Hmm,” Alastor hummed again. “Not really. This is not comfortable either.”

This time he only flipped himself on his back, wiggling up and down, completely ignoring Anthony’s bewilderment at the actions, until he finally stilled and grabbed the human by the back of his neck and pushed him again against his chest, where Anthony landed with a quiet oof.

“Ah, yes,” Alastor finally stated. “This is just right.”

“Fuckin’ finally,” Anthony huffed and dragged his body higher, draping his legs over Alastors’ while resting his head on the demon’s shoulder. Then finally let out a breath and melted into the warmth like ice cream.

“I am a hard man to please, you will find,” Alastor pitched in. “But I am sure we can find a compromise.”

“Your compromising seems rather one-sided so far,” Anthony jabbed, and it made Alastor chuckle.

“Not wrong.”

There was a clawed hand on the back of Anthony’s neck that moved towards his hair, combing through them slightly. The movement was pretty nice and if Anthony was a cat, he’d have purred for sure.

Speaking of hands… “You healed my wound?”

“Why, yes, I sure did,” Alastor answered easily. “No reason for it when it filled its purpose.”

“Thank you,” the human whispered into the red shirt and the hand in his hair patted him. “Sleeping now.”

“Please do,” the demon responded rudely, but there was not enough consciousness for Anthony to get back at him somehow. The waves of sleep claimed him like a spell casted by a demon in red, sealing a deal for eternity.

***

Anthony woke up to a warm but empty spot in his bed, smell of coffee waffling through air and sun peeking between clouds to his bedroom. The snow stopped falling but the ice drew crystals on the window, signalling the temperature outside was rather low, despite the sunny lie.

He sat up groggily but surprisingly well rested and his head had to take a five to catch up with everything that transpired at night, which quite frankly still felt like a dream. But then the dream was standing in his kitchen again fully dressed, sipping a cup of coffee (Anthony’s favourite cup, a black wide and low beauty with golden accents and a handle, even though he never used it for coffee) while reading a newspaper. Where he got one was a mystery, since Anthony definitely didn’t have any at home, but then again – a demon. He could probably snap one from thin air.

“Ah, Anthony,” he immediately spotted the human standing in between the doors, “my good fellow, good morning. I took the liberty of using your coffee machine, thought you could do with wider variety of blends.”

“I don’t even know I have a coffee machine,” Anthony yawned and shuffled into the kitchen while absentmindedly scratching his belly under the tank top. “Or blends on that matter. Where did ya even find it?”

Alastor pointed at the cabinet that was obviously fiddled with and it only assured Anthony that he had no idea of its contents. Somebody must have left the coffee here, he mused, while reaching into the cabinet himself and pulling out a tea box.

“Not having a knack for coffee?” Alastor asked while watching the human pouring water into a kettle and then filling another cup with four spoons of sugar.

“Don’t like bitter stuff,” Anthony mumbled while hanging the tea bag inside.

“I can see that,” Alastor commented, pointedly looking at the cup with enough sugar to sustain Anthony through morning and cause anybody else a cardiac arrest. He obviously wanted to nag him for it, but was nice enough to keep his mouth shut, which was a smart move.

“I have to leave for now,” the demon announced after the water finished boiling and Anthony looked at him wordlessly. “Busy as ever, I am afraid. But,” he snapped his fingers and there was a retro-looking radio standing on the counter, just appearing out of thin air, “I will leave this here. Consider it… a Christmas gift.”

“A radio?” Anthony stared at the contraption in confusion and Alastor patted the radio gently.

“Yes, indeed!” he happily announced and tuned it so that smooth jazz started to play. “It is more of a… communication device for you and me though. Not saying it can always reach me in Hell, but it usually can. And I can reach you here as well if the need arises. Sounds fair?”

“Sure,” Anthony eyed the radio suspiciously. “So, what’s with ya and the radios anyway?”

“No time, we can talk later!” Alastor pushed his empty cup into Anthony’s hands and with another snap of his fingers his microphone appeared, and he spun it in his hand. “I am not able to make it today for sure, but let us start the dinner routine tomorrow, how about that?”

“It’s fine, but Al-,”

“I will see you later then, my dear fellow!” And with that, Alaster poofed out of thin air like a goddamn David Copperfield on a good day, leaving Anthony gaping like a fish once again.

***

2019, 25th

The Boxing day was quiet and mostly for kids anyway. The joyous squeals of children when obtaining their dream toy filling households only lasted for a while until kids went out to play. Anthony saw the lot of them outside in the snow, throwing snowballs around and letting their parents take a breather or two.

Anthony never wanted kids. Hell, he couldn’t even have one when the only woman he ever loved was his mom, and she was probably in heaven, unless she fucked up somewhere on the road and the elevator went down. He wondered if Alastor would know of her, if she ended up in hell. Or anybody, really, if Anthony asked.

Hey, you met my pops in there? The old fucking homophobic bastard? Hope he’s squealing like a pig on a roaster.

Yeah, no. Maybe Alastor would know and would tell him and Anthony wouldn’t like the answer. Not to mention it wasn’t in their deal anyway, exchanging information from Hell and beyond. But he still wondered, now when he knew hell really existed and everybody who did bad things ended up as a demon in there. If they never struck a contract with a demon while alive, did they just arrive there free to roam about until somebody eradicated them? Or picked them up? Was it all about deals in hell? Dog eat dog? It would make sense, probably. But he still thought it’s purgatory with everybody being tortured by having their organs ripped out and eaten and then growing them back out just to do it again the next day, that sort of vileness. Maybe having a pineapple stuck in their ass too, just as a good measure of their sins.  

He glanced towards the kitchen, the radio perfectly visible from his spot on the couch, just sitting on the kitchen desk like it was no demonic contraption that could call his owner in hell. It was like those old dandy radios before TV was invented, vintage and possibly kind of nice looking, yet completely out of place in Anthony’s flat. Was it Alastor’s checking on my investment sort of thing? A spyware but old fashioned? All about Alastor was a bit old timey, the way he talked, the way the never-ending static around him buzzed and played all kind of reaction tracks, even the way he dressed. Though Anthony had to admit that kind of fashion was more timeless if anything else. The static noise that surrounded him and even coloured his voice was strange, and Anthony didn’t know what to exactly think about it. He never stopped emitting the sound, even when they were sleeping, the static was still there. Anthony didn’t mind, it was a white noise sort of background he fell asleep to even normally, but the question still stood.

“Maybe I should write the questions down,” he mumbled to himself. Alastor was not coming tonight and Anthony was prone to forgetting things fast. If he wanted to know, it was easier to make a list.

***

2019, 26th

“You made a list?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Anthony batted Alastor’s hand away when he tried to grab the paper. He was primly seated at the table, legs crossed, and his grin ever present. “You’re the first demon I’ve met. Of course I have questions and there’s lots of them, so I wrote it down.”

It was seven in the evening, Thursday, 26th. Alastor appeared out of nowhere in the living room approximately at 18:30 and scared the shit out of Anthony who was attempting to do some yoga after half a year, which obviously caught him in an embarrassing position with his butt sticking in the air and a not very manly shriek following when he heard Alastor ask about the occasion.

They decided to make spaghetti. Or better Anthony decided and Alastor didn’t argue. And then it came to the questions and Anthony remembered the list and that obviously piqued Alastor’s curiosity.

“Fair enough,” the demon conceded and folded his hands back on the table. “I suppose I can indulge you.” He didn’t look any different from the last day Anthony saw him – the same suit, the same hair, and it probably made sense, being in hell and all. Dead didn’t have many people to impress with wide variety of clothes, unless sinners had keen fashion sense down there. The time also may flow differently in hell, right? Was the time even a thing in there?

Anthony peeked into his list, then returned to the kitchen counter where he was cutting tomatoes.

“Do you know Lucifer?”

It was the first thing that occurred to him when he tried to think back to Christianity. Lucifer the Morning star, he was supposed to rule hell, right? Or was he a fairy tale?

“Yes,” Alastor responded easily. “Everybody knows the King of Hell. Or at least know of him.”

“I mean… personally?” Anthony peered at the demon over his shoulder and Alastor nodded.

“We have met. He quite enjoys the polka music.”

“Lucifer the Morning star enjoys the polka music,” Anthony repeated with a snort while scraping tomatoes into a pan. “Sure thing.”

“He can play variety of instruments as well. Very proficient,” Alastor added and Anthony seriously couldn’t say if he was fucking with him or if the King of hell played harmonica at dinner. He shook his head and let it go – if Alastor wanted to make fun of him, nobody would be able to stop him anyway.

“Are you summoned by humans often?” he continued with another question while moving around the kitchen and by the corner of the eye saw Alastor leaning against his palm.

“Not exactly,” the demon admitted. “Rarely anybody knows how. Of course, there are attempts to summon something, but simple mortals lack imagination when it comes to it. They just think it is oh so fun to try and ruin the party with powers that should not be trifled with. Unless they use right signs, they usually cannot summon anything. When they are at least partially right, they may get a vengeful lesser shade which may cause enough trouble for them to get hurt. Or die.”

“Oh,” Anthony blinked in surprise, then got back to tasting the sauce. “I was lucky to get ya, huh.”

“Why, yes, lucky indeed!” the cheering background made Anthony snort.

“Making deals with humans is not really a norm for you then. Or do you venture here by yourself?” he asked another question and heard Alastor behind him shuffle. When he glanced towards him, the man was standing already, reading the list Anthony left on the table. “Hey!”

“Merely curious what kind of thoughts you had in my absence,” the demon masterfully avoided Anthony’s snatching hand and circled the table with two long steps, putting a barrier between them. “Oh dear, those are quite intrusive questions you have. Half of them are unanswerable.”

“Yeah? Why?” Anthony gave up chasing him and crossed his arms on his chest. “Is it some kind of hell code?”

“More like I do not feel like telling you, is all,” Alastor responded sweetly and sheesh, his nice and understanding personality from yesterday must have been just a fluke, since he was rude. “Personal information is dangerous to give. Especially to an underling.”

“Not your underling yet, big boy,” Anthony sent him a wink which seemed to take Alastor by the surprise, judging from his wide eyes.

“Alright. Underling eventually,” the demon huffed and twirled the list in his hand. “Ah, this one I can answer. Is hell only about torturing sinners – no and yes.”

“Very eloquent, thank you for enlightening me,” Anthony rolled his eyes and returned to the stove where he pulled the sauce off the flame. “You just want to keep me in suspense, huh. Wait till you get there, my good fellow!”

The laughing track was a bit insulting, but alright. Maybe it was a rather presumptuous question anyway.

“Every sinner is different, therefore every sinner’s experience in Hell is their own,” Alastor walked to the radio he left the there the other day and patted it. Jazz started to play in the background and Anthony gave out a huff before walking to the living room and turning off the TV that played until now. Guess it was Alastor’s way of saying he liked music better.

“For lesser shades… I imagine hell must be quite a purgatory. But honestly? It is but another life in another city where good intentions do not exist,” Alastor looked out of the window at the snowy New York, his eyes half lidded. Seeing him standing there like that made him look almost normal. “Nobody will help an old lady to cross the street. Most likely will try to hit her by the car if anything else. Nobody will do you a favour if you are in a pitch, simply because good favours are not repaid. Unless you have power… you are nothing in Hell.”

“So, like in a real life,” the human mumbled and Alastor made an agreeing noise in the back of his throat. “No chains or anything? No eternal suffering by having your organs eaten and then regrown to have them eaten again?”

“How colourful!” Alastor laughed from his spot. “I assume there are places like that too. Business where chains are used, and organs eaten… everything is possible in Hell. Maybe you can start that by yourself once you are there. It’s quite a way to make a living!”

Anthony refused to get unnerved and instead commanded his guest to sit down so he could serve the food to him. He didn’t miss the gleam in Alastor’s eyes at his refusal to comment on the topic.

***

“Are you usually busy in hell?”

“Of course I am,” Alastor answered the question like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Maintaining status in Hell is a full-time job.”

They were seated in the living room, the sofa dipping under their weight. Alastor was good at his word and had Anthony sitting next to him while having an arm around his shoulders in a cuddle. If felt a little stiff but he tried, and Anthony didn’t complain. The TV remained off, Alastor seemed to have an aversion to it for some reason, but the radio still played music from the kitchen. He was glad Alastor seemed to like his cooking at least, since he ate everything Anthony gave him and even praised him for a splendid Italian experience, even though it wasn’t exactly anything special.

“But now ya gotta be here for three to five days a week. Doesn’t that cause problems?” Anthony folded his legs under him and cuddled a little closer to Alastor’s warmth which made the demon stiffen even more for several seconds before he eventually relaxed again. Definitely not used to touching, this one. Striking a deal like that must have taken quite a big deal of self-control. Anthony was wondering how far he could push him before he’d show it.

“I have ways to secure my constant vigil,” came a vague reply. Probably his underlings as Alastor had put it – who knows how many of them he had, how may deals he made. What did they want in exchange for their souls?

“What’s the most wanted thing in your deals?” he inquired next while sneaking a hand on Alastor’s knee. The demon’s whole body became rigid and Anthony bit back the laugh.

“Not affection, I assure you,” the demon pried Anthony’s hand off, then apparently realized what he had done, so he awkwardly held it in his gloved hand like a baby on fire until Anthony took a pity on him and wiggled out of the hold. “Most of the time they want money or fame. Sometimes revenge.”

“Did you make somebody super famous? Like a singer or an actor?” Anthony continued like nothing happened and for a while it seemed like Alastor was back to his relaxed self. “Like Brad Pitt or somebody?”

“Well-,” Alastor stopped immediately once Anthony put the hand back on his knee. Then glared. “You are doing this on purpose.”

“A little.”

Another glare, surprisingly not very scary because it was ridiculous – the man was manhandling him yesterday in bed without ounce of shame with the cuddling and suddenly couldn’t relax into a normal side-to-side couch snuggle, and a simple knee touch almost sent him out of the room? Talk about overreaction out of nowhere.

“Ya hate being touched,” Anthony sat straight, putting a distance between them, looking at Alastor pointedly. “Yer stiff like a board, holy shit. Is this some kind of hell practice? Like ya gotta torture yourself at least once per month somehow?”

“Do not be ridiculous, Anthony,” Alastor rolled his eyes and the invisible audience booed. “The deal is perfectly fine in all standards and does not cause any torture on my part.”

“Uh huh,” the human voiced and slapped his hand back on Alastor’s knee with a loud smack. The rigidness immediately followed. “I can see that right ‘ere.” Alastor did nothing against it with stubbornness of an oaf, but then Anthony dragged the hand higher up the leg and at that point his wrist was caught in a vice grip and pulled away again.

“The deal said nothing intimate or sexual,” the static got a little louder around his voice. “Is that right, my dear?”

“Touching your knee is hardly sexual,” Anthony gave him an unimpressed look. “Dear.”

The grip got tighter and the static almost deafening and he would have sworn he saw shadows getting taller and darker. That was an obvious cue for Anthony to concede unless he wanted to be evaporated, probably. With a sigh he raised his free hand in defeat and the static returned to normal and music resumed from the radio in the kitchen like nothing creepy just transpired. Alastor let go of his hand and leaned back against the backrest and raised his arm for Anthony to come back closer, without a single comment.

“You’re really somethin’,” the human shook his head and returned to his position next to the demon. This time Alastor relaxed marginally, but Anthony would swear the claws on his shoulder bit down more than they should have.

***

He woke up alone again the next morning but this time to an empty flat. There was no trace of Alastor making coffee in the kitchen either, the cup safely stashed in the cupboard and no lingering smell of coffee beans remained. Anthony leaned against the counter with a deep sigh, wondering if the deal they made wasn’t another catastrophe waiting to happen, like any other relationship he had in his life, romantic or not. Sure, this thing was more of a… body pillow status than anything else, but then there were still dinners and weekends spent in the same vicinity and if the demon came to dislike him enough, wouldn’t those be a complete disaster?

“New year can’t come soon enough,” Anthony mumbled to himself while reaching for the kettle to fill it with water and sighed. He was at work the whole night on New year and it usually worked well enough to get nasty thoughts out of his head for the time being. It wasn’t like he totally loved his job, but he didn’t mind it as much either – it gave him money and the money gave him the rest. Even when he had to fend off drunkards and touchy-feely customers, especially on a costume day. The pub he worked in wasn’t the fanciest joint but sometimes they had fun events where all waiters wore the same costume, no matter the gender, and if they looked cute enough, the customers weren’t shy to put some bank notes in the clothes with patronizing smiles. Some thought it bought them few touches too, but unless they went straight for the crotch or wanted more, Anthony didn’t really mind. The girls on the other hand were a bit less inclined to be groped at work, which made some patrons grumpy. Served them right to be slapped across the face though.

He stopped in front of the radio, eyeing it unhappily, and then fiddled with one of the black buttons until it started playing a tune. Swing, probably, judging from the tempo, and he wondered if Alastor had it only tuned for an old-time music he liked and nothing else or if it was the only music available in hell. He left it be and waited for the water to boil until the radio buzzed oddly and swing stopped.

“Ah, Antho-y-are up,” Alastor’s voice leaked out of the demonic contraption and Anthony froze, staring at the radio with wide eyes. No matter the demon told him they could communicate through it, it still came as a surprise to hear Alastor from the speaker.

“Mornin’,” he responded a little dumbly, not even sure if the radio went both ways, since normal one definitely did not.

“Apo-gies for le-ing ea-ly,” Alastor’s voice said with enough interference it almost made it impossible to tell what he was saying. “Duty ca-d.”

“It’s fine,” Anthony assured him with a small frown. “Can’t hear fuck though, hell has pretty bad signal.”

“No mat-r!” Alastor sounded cheery enough though, even with all those interruptions. “-ll try to c-e to-ght, but--pro-ses!”

“Whatever you say, Smiles,” Anthony sighed, patting the radio as if it could help the signal to correct itself and the buzzing intensified until it smoothed out and only the lyrics of Peeping Tom slithered out of the speaker.

“Fitting,” Anthony snorted and got back to his breakfast.

***

2019, 30st

Alastor didn’t show up for four days apart from some staticky messages through the radio, through which Anthony only caught about half of what had been said. Something about a war – which was probably bad? War in hell. Or maybe pretty normal? And then something about a lord, which maybe was Lucifer. Alastor attempted to ask normal questions, Anthony thought, but very often the conversation, if not hardly understood through the interference, was interrupted by screams that sounded like somebody was being torn apart, and that usually made Alastor shut up, then sigh, and then say in a cheery voice: “I’ll be right back, dear.” And then another talk happened the next day the earliest.

Anthony didn’t really blame him. Lord wars or whatever was happening down there didn’t sound like a picnic, and Alastor was probably in one of the higher places in the hierarchy, so maybe it was like his job to get all the sinners under the control – like with a whip and high heels… or something. That image actually got Anthony through the day because he laughed every time he imagined Alastor in red latex.

It was in the evening of Monday 30th when Anthony was going through the shifts roster his boss sent him on e-mail, sitting on the couch in the living room with TV on, and heard the radio in the kitchen spur to life once more.

“Al?” Anthony dragged himself off the couch towards the kitchen and then let out a scream he didn’t know he was capable of. Slithering out of the radio was a black shadow with evil blue eyes and wide raggedy smile, filling the room like an imposing nightmare and Anthony hit the table with his back when trying to back out.

Was this also a gateway? Could another demon use it to get here? For whatever reason it might have? Was this how Anthony was going to die – eaten by some shade-like monster? In a complete fear stupor Anthony couldn’t even turn around to flee, he just stared at the abomination and the abomination stared back at him for about twenty seconds, then it tilted its head to the side and fucking bowed to him.

“What the…” the human wheezed, his heart thumping wildly, and then it hit him. This thing. It had huge antlers on its head, not like those small things Alastor normally had, but fully grown antlers of an imposing width – actually its entirety of a head looked like the red-clothed demon, like his fucking shadow just slithered out of the radio by itself to say hi.

“Are you Al…?” he asked a little dumbly and the shadow made a vague hand gesture that could only mean half and half. Fucking half and half, was his shadow acting by itself normally? Was it a demon thing?

“He still can’t make it?” he tried to make a conversation and his heart was finally slowing down again to a normal pace. The shade nodded and on the wall behind him a shadowy show appeared, explosions and flying body parts and then also miniature Alastor standing on a tower or something? Silently laughing at the mayhem.

Ah, so it was probably a fun war then, Anthony mused. Or maybe Alastor just liked chaos and blood. Which was possibly normal – for a demon. When the scene disappeared, the Shadow Alastor turned back to Anthony and the big smile widened even more.

“I suppose you’re not really here for dinner though…” the human trailed off when he saw the Shadow pick up a frying pan from the hanger and put it on the stove. “Holy shit, you can actually touch things too?”

In a blink of an eye the shadow disappeared and reappeared right behind Anthony where he lifted the human with ease and then moved him towards the stove like a damn figurine in a clothes’ shop. That thing didn’t really feel warm or cold, it was like being held by a paper bag. Just there. At the job well done it grinned at the human like it wanted a praise and all Anthony could do was to stare.

“Well fuck me, this is even weirder than the whole deal thing,” he finally stammered out. “Can you eat too or…?”

The Shadow shook its head.

“So, you just want me to cook for myself?”

The Shadow nodded.

“Alright then,” Anthony glanced at the frying pan. He wasn’t really thinking of what to cook even if Alastor actually arrived, but since now he sort of had to and it was only for him, he decided to settle on an egg omelette with mushrooms he had in a fridge and hoped they were still edible and not covered with mould. It happened to him too many times to count, since he rarely had an appetite to eat unless Alastor would grace him with his company. He looked back at the Shadow, which was expectantly hovering on his left and cleared his throat. “How about you get me eggs and mushrooms from the fridge?”

He couldn’t say if it really wanted to do something or had been acting on orders, but the shade actually slithered to the fridge and grabbed the pack of mushrooms, brought them to the kitchen counter and then got back for the eggs, turned around and tilted its head.

“Three of them,” Anthony understood the silent question, at least hopefully it was what it meant, and the Shadow opened the package and took three eggs out – then started to juggle them around.

“Oh, so ya a fun guy, huh,” Anthony watched him with amusement. “Not like your owner.”

“Depends on what you expect of fun,” the Shadow spoke in low voice that made Anthony shiver involuntarily, and it gently put the eggs on the counter while grinning wildly.

“Can also talk,” Anthony commented with a hitch of a breath.

“When I feel like it,” the Shadow changed locations again, this time he hovered on the right side of Anthony, like he was playing with him.

“Wait, so are ya a separate being from Al? Like… yer supposed to be his shadow, right?” It was a weird question to ask, probably, but Anthony couldn’t wrap his head around a shadow being its own thinking entity without some sort of setback.

The Shadow tilted its head, not answering.

“Don’t feel like talking often, I see,” Anthony huffed. “Fine. Keep ye secrets. I know Al doesn’t like to talk about himself cuz he’s scared I’d stab him in his back in hell once I die.”

The Shadow remained silent but dramatically manifested a knife in his back and then dissolved into a dark puddle on the floor before materialized on the other side of Anthony again. Obviously a theatrical animal, the human thought with surprising calm, and just left him be.

The cooking took him only half an hour and since the Shadow seemed to hold his tongue for the rest of the evening, he took the plate to the living room to watch something on TV while eating. The Shadow followed him like an obedient dog and once Anthony seated himself on the couch and dragged a fluffy pink blanket over his legs, it appeared right next to him, peering at him expectantly again from a way too close.

“Hi,” Anthony said into its grinning face and the smile widened. Probably liked being acknowledged. “Ya here to cuddle me instead of Al too?”

That seems to perk it up and Anthony barely managed to save his plate before the Shadow threw itself on Anthony’s lap, seating itself right on top of his legs while completely blocking not only the view at the TV but the access to the plate and the rest of barely functioning brain cells Anthony had. Then it looked down at him expectantly, his huge antlers by some miracle so far didn’t destroy anything.

“Alright…” Anthony took a deep breath and put away the plate with food for later somewhere near him on the couch, since he couldn’t reach anything else over the black mass of the shade sitting on his lap like this. “Not what I had in mind, but sure, whatever… floats your boat, I suppose?”

Obviously, it did float the Shadow’s boat since it didn’t move away and instead of that hugged Anthony closer to its chest and its shadow-y claws started raking through his hair. Which was quite nice, honestly, if the situation wasn’t so bizarre. The true Alastor would probably bristle like a cat at this though, judging from the knee incident, so Anthony kept his hands to himself. The Shadow itself wasn’t heavy – Anthony felt him, sure, but like… with almost nothing to weight him down, even though it felt very palpable, very here, yet somehow not as real. He let his eyes close, only concentrating on the movement of the claws on his scalp and felt sleep tugging at his consciousness.

“Hey,” he piped, and the claws stopped for a fraction of second before resuming their movement. “Tell Al I’m at work whole night tomorrow… okay? In case the lord war or whatever you guys do down there would miraculously end itself.”

“Yes, Anthony,” the Shadow purred above him and then in several next minutes Anthony’s consciousness faded away.

***

2019, 31st

It was only lightly snowing in New Year and the temperature didn’t really drop as low as Anthony expected. He arrived to work at 17:00 on dot and the girls greeted him with wide smiles and winks, which meant the costume for today was going to be something lewd – but not completely or they’d riot. Maybe a maid uniform, he mused while walking to the changing room and greeting other waiters on the way.

Then it made sense – a Honeybee themed outfit with fishnets was about to end his whole career, he was sure of it. Several girls in the locker room were already dressed up and applying makeup, and the moment he entered the room they all had that gleam in their eye which meant the only thing: They wanted to see him in the costume and do his makeup like a hive minded coven.

“I suppose boss didn’t have mercy on me, huh,” he commented when there was a carefully wrapped costume hanged on his locker. Girls around him shook their heads with a giggle. “I have no ass. This is going to be a disaster.”

“You have no tits either and still walk away with most of the tip on busy nights,” one of the girls smirked at him. “Quit whining and get it on. I’ll do your hair.”

“Yes m’am,” he kept the sigh for himself. It was going to be a long night for sure.

 New Year’s nights were always busy in the pub. Hell, in probably all pubs around the world, people were so willing to drunk themselves into the stupor it felt like it was the only joy they had that year. Anthony didn’t know how many times he already said Welcome to the honeybee inn, sweetie during the night but it definitely kept any other thoughts at bay when he had to remember orders, faces, and keep his smile on all the time. It didn’t stop him from thinking about Alastor though, just wondering if New Year’s had any effect on Hell or not. Maybe they all had a day off from hellish suffering?

It was very close to midnight already when he twirled around tables with another set of shots, putting them in front of a group of middle aged men and one of them took a hundred dollar bill out of his pocket and waved it in front of Anthony like a bait.

“How about you sit on daddy’s lap for a while, honey?” he asked him in a slightly drunk tone and Anthony eyed the bill for a second before gracefully sitting on the men’s knees, snatching it from his hand and putting it behind the cleavage.

“Of course, daddy,” he wounded an arm around the man’s shoulders. “Are ya enjoying your time with us?”

“Now I definitely do,” the man responded, his hands immediately went to the groping mode as expected. Anthony let him do whatever he liked – for a hundred he bought it as long as he avoided his dick. His equally drunk friends were laughing and then stopped other waitress and ordered more shots for Anthony to drink with them, passing him around their laps like a groping doll.

Well… it’s fine. It’s the only thing I’m good for anyway.

One of them was a sloppy kisser and other one had a thing for his thighs. At least he heeded his warnings of not to rip his fishnets, which was a small miracle. Anthony wasn’t sure how many shots he was made to drink, but he clearly recalled being called pretty and a slut.

He blacked out eventually, but he heard the countdown and New Year fireworks in the back alley behind the pub.

There was nothing happy about it though.

***

The tiles in his bathroom were cold as ice. Anthony heaved one more time and there was already nothing but disgusting bile coming out. He felt sick, dirty, and miserable, and the rumpled money that fell out of his costume at home were so not worth it, even though it was almost 1k. Filthy, disgusting money, the same like him.

It was a miracle he was strong enough to take a shower, even though he sat in there for twenty minutes while ugly sobbing, and then passed out in his bed still in a towel and with wet hair and smudged mascara.

Why didn’t he insist on Alastor killing him when he had a chance? This was the lowest of low for him, the fucking rock bottom of his pride shattering.

Pride? What pride. Did he even have any? Doubtful.

 He woke up at 3 in the morning, his stomach was hurting, and his head was splitting. He wobbled out of the bed on unsure legs, holding the towel barely up, and rummaged the cabinet for Tylenol he by some miracle still had. The water from the tap in the kitchen was cold as fuck and it woke him up a little when he was gulping the pill down and praying it would stay there.

He leaned against the counter to take a deep breath and then his eyes fell on the radio quietly sitting on his left. His hand absentmindedly fiddled with one of its buttons and it cracked several times, but no music came out.

“Figures,” he mumbled, defeated. “Hey Al. Ya there?”

Nothing but crackling static.

“Al,” Anthony repeated. “I dunno if ye can hear me. Just wanted to talk maybe. Or see ya. Or Al Junior maybe? I don’t mind that one either, haha… both of ye are… fine.”

Crackling buzzed through the kitchen with no words. Anthony slid down against the counter and remained seated on the wooden floor, fighting against tears that were coming up all of sudden.

“You know,” he sobbed quietly. “This night was fucked up, huh. Was it fucked up for ya too? How’s hell during new years anyway? Do demons drink alcohol even? Hey Al…”

He sniffled and rubbed the back of his hand against his face. It came out blackened from the mascara.

“Oh man. Al, I fucked up again,” he let his head fall back with a thud against the drawers. “I wonder if there’s a way to even get better? Like this… I’d be so fuckin’ useless to ya down there. I kinda wanna die already, but I know ya wouldn’t like me being this way so...”

A sigh. He was babbling. His stomach hurt like a bitch. Some of the drinks must have been spiked, he knew this withdrawal feeling.

“Hey Al. Are drugs down there? In hell?” It sounded more like a whine. “I guess it’s the best way how to destroy a person, ya know. Just make him an addict. Fun times for a while, then pit of snakes.”

He quieted down, hot tears streaming down his face. Would Alastor be angry if he just took a knife and slit his wrists? Probably. Would he just double kill him once he’d land in hell for being such a pathetic weakling? He sure wouldn’t want to be reborn with the same shit soul again anyway.

“I…” he raised his voice, then sobbed again. “Hope it’s fine. Down there. With ya.”

“There, there, Anthony,” the radio suddenly cracked to life and the human bolted up and almost lost his footing before catching the edge of the counter. It was Alastor’s voice, no doubt. “You sound like you are in very low spirits for such joyous occasion.”

“Ha, yeah… sort of…” Anthony smudged the mascara even more, judging from the state of his hands, and reached for a tissue with a frown. “It’s been a shitshow here, but what else is new.”

“That much it ended in tears for you?” the demon asked from the other side, for once the transmission clear and easily understood, and Anthony forced down the sob that was trying to get out of his throat.

“Kinda…” he admitted quietly. “I thought maybe… you’d have time. Tonight. It’s been a rough day.”

“Today-,”

“Or your shadow pal,” Anthony quickly interrupted what sounded like a refusal. “He’s pretty nice the other day. Not that chatty but still nice. Would be fine if you can’t. Unless he can’t either.”

There was silence on the other side for a while and Anthony feared the transmission was interrupted again. But then the static sound filled the kitchen once more.

“…my shadow pal?” Alastor repeated incredulously, apparently not liking the nickname. “I see.”

“I know it’s whiny,” Anthony couldn’t deny that simple truth, but he refused to back down now. “But I really could use a body pillow right now.”

“A what now?”

“A cuddle,” the human wiped his face to the tissue, and it came dirty as hell. Damn, his face must have been a mess. He wiped it some more until nothing black remained and threw the dirty tissues to the bin with a fed-up sigh.

Silence again and Anthony braced for an inevitable refusal.

“You sure are a handful, Anthony,” sounded behind him suddenly and he almost dropped the towel he was holding around him, and that definitely wouldn’t help the situation. Alastor was standing several steps away from him and looked exhausted. There was no other word for it, his shoulders were slouched, he had huge dark circles under his eyes and his coat was rather tattered on the edges – although if there was a war it was still in a pretty good shape, considering.

“And you look like shit,” the human commented, even though he really didn’t mean to. There was a saying that beggars can’t be choosers for a reason.

“Oh, that is rich coming from you, dear,” Alastor tilted his head to the side, taking in Anthony’s state. “How about you dress yourself first. Then we can talk business.”

“Smart,” the human admitted and wobbled back to his bedroom to change into pyjamas. The night was cold and fluffy clothes sounded like a great idea; he was already half a popsicle from the time on the floor.

When he got back, Alastor was sitting on the couch, legs crossed, and crimson eyes fixated on Anthony the moment he appeared. It looked like both of them had a rough night, so maybe a good night sleep wasn’t that bad of an idea even for the demon. Although maybe he preferred sleeping in a coffin or something, Anthony didn’t know.

“Much better,” Alastor said pointedly and stood up. “Now we can sleep. Or talk, whichever you prefer.”

“Looking at ya, I think sleep would be the better option,” Anthony shrugged, and he didn’t miss the displeasure that showed on Alastor’s face for a second. Probably didn’t like when people saw him weak, although Antony doubted it made him any less dangerous. He let the demon lose the coat and the shoes first before Alastor climbed to bed and once he was lying on his back, Anthony sneaked in next and remained resting on his side, not touching him anyhow. For some reason he looked like a timed bomb and any touch could set him off, unless he would initiate it.

“Ya could’ve just send the shadow again,” he mumbled quietly. “If this is not a good time.”

Crimson eyes switched to him, searching.

“Busy now,” he said simply. “No matter. We had a deal and I neglected it, which is not going to happen again.”

He was lying there almost motionless, stiff like a board. Anthony wondered if the war ended badly. Alastor looked like in a bad mood.

“I said it’s fine,” he assured the demon. “Whatever lord war was going on, I’m sure it needed all your attention.”

“Lord war?” One eyebrow went up and Anthony shrugged.

“Or something,” he uttered. “The transmission was so bad; I heard every third word. Or scream.”

“Ah. The interference must have been displeasing,” Alastor sighed. “My apologies.”

“No biggie.” He wanted to ask what kind of war it was or how it ended, but somehow couldn’t bring himself to. Alastor didn’t like talking about himself and this seemed to fall under the same category. So, he just lay there, breathing in and out and sometimes a bit more deeply when the pain shot through him again.

“You are in pain,” Alastor noticed immediately and turned towards him on his side. “Are you hurt?”

“Just my pride,” Anthony gave him a weak smile. “Or what’s left of it.”

Red eyes seemed to take more of him in, as if he was searching for any kind of a visible wound. When he found nothing, his shoulder seemed to finally relax.

“Are you hurt?” Anthony repeated the question and Alastor shook his head.

“Just my pride,” he repeated Anthony’s answer as well, smiling a little bitterly. The war ended badly then. “The end of the year is… unpleasant. More for some, less for others. Never good though.”

“Oh,” the human let out. “More than usual bad hell things?”

“Much more.”

“So better not dying on New Year’s, huh,” he joked and Alastor actually chuckled at it.

“Unless you want to get immediately eradicated, not really,” he concluded with a sigh. Then he raised his hand and gently swiped Anthony’s hair off his forehead, like he didn’t make a scene few days ago about a knee touch. Complicated guy. “You were crying in the transmission.”

“I have my moments sometimes,” Anthony responded meekly. It was probably a little embarrassing. “Thanks for coming to my rescue though. Nice of ya.”

“I would hardly call dis a rescue,” the demon took his hand back, much to Anthony’s disappointment. His eyes seemed to be extra tired now and his voice slipping. “We talked about dis. You were right I wouldn’t like it if you died like dis.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’m glad you didn’t do it.” The static of his voice was flickering in an out, like he was forgetting about it. Anthony didn’t comment on it, Alastor just must have been so tired. It made him feel a little bad for dragging him all the way here.

“Yeah well. Me too, now,” the human said softly, and it made Alastor’s face relax. His hand reached out again, this time latching onto Anthony’s biceps and tugging slightly. Anthony could only imagine it meant it was time to cuddle, so he slowly inched closer until the hand reached for the back of his head and gently pushed him against Alastor’s chest again.

“Ça c’est bon,” he heard the demon say, no static, no interference, just human voice slipping out while his eyes closed slowly, and Anthony held his breath for a while to not break this ambience. Alastor’s breathing evened and the room got swallowed by untypical silence, free of any static whatsoever.

***

2020, 1st

Anthony wasn’t sure what woke him up. When he opened his eyes, there was nothing pressing that wanted his attention. The phone was silent, nobody screamed outside, his neighbours were probably still away or passed out in the bathroom, so it was only normal silence and evened breathing.

It took him about a minute before he realized the breathing wasn’t just his, but Alastor’s, who had his face buried in Anthony’s chest, arms locked possessively around Anthony’s waist like a body pillow, sleeping deeply. Normally it would be the demon who was up first, but the New Year’s toll must have drained him enough for the morning not having any power over it.

It made Anthony smile though – for a guy who seemed to be not that big on touching he was pretty cuddly when it was his initiative. He risked his luck and gently raked his fingers through the red hair and damn, it was fluffy as fuck, what the hell? It could have a been a great example of a pet therapy, just pet this damn guy’s hair and all worries were out of the window. Not to mention it didn’t even stir the demon out of the slumber so Anthony could touch it even longer until he got to the tuffs on top of Alastor’s head. He gently touched the tips and his eyes widened – those weren’t fucking hair. Those were his ears.

“What the…?” he whispered, quickly letting go. But when Alastor still didn’t wake up, his curiosity got best of him and he touched the ears again, gently, until it suddenly flicked and Alastor hummed something and then breathed out again.

So, this guy… this guy had antlers, okay. And then he had those ears too. Like a deer? Was he a deer demon or something? Did he… did he have a deer tail too? Anthony gulped down and checked Alastor’s still sleeping face. No change.

The blanked was draped around them both, but got dragged almost as low as Alastor’s waist, so if he could just lift it… to peek… But then again, he did see him without the coat right. Wouldn’t he notice if there was a tail? Did he even ever saw him from the back? Or dared to actually look at his butt?

No, definitely not. Self-preservation won, probably.

He took a deep breath, then another. Then gently raised the blanket from above Alastor’s behind, straining his neck to see… a fucking tail, holy shit, he had the tail, alright. He let the blanket fall to squash down the urge to touch it and probably lose a hand in the process and just silently whined to himself. Damn scary and bloodthirsty demon having a cute Bambi tail and ears, how was this even fair? What was he supposed to do with that knowledge now anyway? Just stare at it longingly when Al is around?

He risked one more head pat and that made Alastor stir, if the fucking mmrrrp he did was any indication.

Holy shit. Too cute, illegal, deadly. Anthony wanted to cry.

“Mornin’,” he tried to somehow mask his exciting discovery and Alastor wiggled a little before breathing out again, apparently comfortable on top of Anthony.

“Coffee,” came out staticky-less and sleepy.

“Sure, will make ya some,” Anthony grinned, liking this clingy Alastor a ton. “Black, right?”

“Mmm.”

“Okie,” he tried to sit down but Alastor didn’t move an inch. If anything, he just clamped on his waist harder. “Al... if ya wanna coffee, ya gotta lemme go.”

“No leave, just coffee,” came a muffled reply and Anthony had to bite on his fist to stop himself from making an embarrassing squeal. This KO move was too powerful, so he remained lying on his back for a while longer that seemed to be enough for Alastor to fall asleep again.

It was a sin, to dislodge from that kind of hold and leave Alastor alone in the bed, but he was going to hell anyway, and thankfully the sleep made the hold lax and Anthony was free in a second. He looked the scene over once more, gulped down another squeal and tiptoed to the bathroom to clean himself up a little, then to kitchen to make the requested coffee. Maybe if Al was still asleep by the time he’d get back, he could still sneak back to the bed and act like he didn’t leave at all?

***

He couldn’t sneak back. The absence of warmth was what probably woke Alastor up eventually before Anthony was even done boiling water, and he felt a little guilty for it, since Alastor obviously needed the rest and could have slept much longer if Anthony didn’t crawl out (maybe, it wasn’t one hundred percent adamant theory).

But he appeared in the kitchen already in his coat and looking surprisingly prim and tidy and not dishevelled at all, even though he should have because Anthony might have messed up his hair a lot more than he thought.

“Aw, you woke up,” Anthony greeted him with a smile. “Didn’t even managed to finish the coffee.”

“It is the thought that counts, dear!” Alastor replied cheerily and aw, the static was back and the prim voice too. Guess he only slipped when really tired, but it was adorable anyway.

“Slept well?” he turned around, watching Alastor fiddling with the radio to get some tunes out and then sitting at the table properly. He looked composed, the dark circles under his eyes much less prominent, his posture straight again.

“Quite well indeed,” the demon nodded, and it actually sounded sincere. “I see you are also feeling better?”

“Yeah, feelin’ great, thanks.” Anthony didn’t even lie. Yesterday was a whack, one of the really bad days and his psyche was on verge of breaking, but Alastor’s presence literally turned his frown into a smile and that counted for something. Sure, maybe it was just endorphins talking, but it was legit.

“Now, I have a question for you,” Alastor thrummed his claws against the table and Anthony froze a little. Was he going to get scolded for touching the ears? Or seeing the tail? Was he awake after all?

“Sure, shoot,” he gulped down the nervousness while fiddling with the black cup Alastor used before, waiting for the verdict.

“Yesterday, you mentioned my shadow,” thankfully nothing about touching the untouchables, “that it came here instead of me one night.”

“Yeah, through the radio,” the human pointed at the device on top of the counter. “Made me cook dinner for myself, then refused to let me eat it.”

By sitting on his damn lap, by the way, but it wasn’t something Alastor wanted to hear. He probably knew anyway but better letting sleeping dogs lie.

“How uncouth of him,” Alastor commented and the tapping got faster. “But other than that. No problems?”

“None whatsoever, except of scaring the shit out of me at first,” Anthony shrugged, and the water finally boiled. “It’s fine if ya wanna send him over instead though, on busy days or something. I mean obviously I prefer the real thing, but ya know. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

The tapping stopped.

“Noted,” Alastor finally said. “Then if you find it amendable, it may sometimes happen. Not often, but as we both know by now, Hell is unpredictable.”

“So is life,” Anthony reminded him and suppressed the shiver running down his spine when he recalled last night. No, not thinking about that now. Happy thoughts. Deer ears and tails. Fluffy, fluffy ears and a tail.

“Very true,” Alastor agreed and thanked him when Anthony put the cup of coffee on the table right in front of him.

If somebody asked what his favourite start of a New year was, he would definitely say 2020 with Alastor drinking his coffee and the knowledge that under that well-tailored coat was a cute furry Bambi tail.

[sojourner-between-worlds]

Merry Band of Misfits

Fandom: Alex Rider/ Hawaii Five-0

Summary: After an incident, child services questions whether Steve is truly a good fit for Alex. Steve won’t stand for Alex being taken from him of course, and Danny is right there with him.

A/N: This started out as a little angst, a little comfort, and a whole lot of cheese, but somehow it turned into a little cheese, probably a lot of inaccuracy of how the system works, and a ton of angst sprinkled with comfort. What ya gonna do, tho, lol.

. . . .

They were still chasing their suspect through the crowded outdoor market when Steve’s phone vibrated incessantly in his pocket for the third time. His mind immediately jumped to Alex, wondering if he was okay, but he couldn’t exactly answer at the moment. Ready to be done with this chase and praying the call wasn’t anything too serious, he jumped up onto a low, narrow wall. Now moving faster than the man attempting to push his way through, it took less than a minute to catch up. Launching himself off the wall, Steve tackled the man to the ground.

“Oh, just give it up,” Steve grumbled at the still-struggling man underneath him as he wrenched the suspect’s arms around and zip-tied his wrists together. He pulled the man back up to his feet as the rest of his team finally caught up. “Book ‘im, Danno.”

After they had pushed their way back out of the market, Steve finally fished his phone out of his pocket.

3 Missed Calls - Kapi’olani Medical Center

He stopped dead in his tracks, heart in his throat, as he played back the voicemail they’d left for him. It didn’t give him much to go on, unfortunately, but since the woman had introduced herself as a child advocate with the hospital, that didn’t bode well. He didn’t hesitate to call her back.

The other end rang twice before the same woman who left the message, Alana Kelekolio, answered.

“Yeah, this is Commander McGarrett. You called about Alex? Is everything okay?”

. . .

As Steve stormed into the office, he didn’t fail to notice the two people in the room who were clearly not medical staff, but for the moment he ignored them, opting to head straight for Alex, who had stood up as he had entered.

“Hey, you all right, kiddo?” Steve asked, wrapping him in a hug.

“Shoulder hurts, but otherwise I’m fine.”

Steve snorted. “Yeah, that happens when you dislocate it. What happened?”

Alex shrugged his good shoulder. “Got my feet tangled up with Nathan’s fighting for the ball during practice and fell.”

“Yeah, you might need to spice that story up a bit before you tell it to anyone else.” That comment finally pulled a small smile out of the teen as Steve turned to address the other two people in the room. “So we’re good to go then?”

“Not quite, Commander.” A man Steve vaguely recognized as Alex’s social worker stood up and stepped forward. He’d been by the house a handful of times, but Steve honestly had a hard time remembering his name; he didn’t leave much of an impression. Robert something, maybe? Robert Kent? That sounded right. “If I could have a word with you alone?” he asked, gesturing towards the door.

Once they had stepped out and the door had clicked shut behind them, Robert continued. “This is negligence at best, Commander.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are Alex’s only emergency contact.”

“Yes, and here I am. So what?”

“The only reason I am here is because the hospital couldn’t get a hold of you.”

“I was literally in the middle of chasing a human trafficker through Chinatown. What was I supposed to do, huh? Ask him to wait while I answer my phone?”

“And that is exactly why Alex’s case is going to be reviewed.”

For the second time in an hour, Steve felt his heart jump into his throat. “What does that mean?”

“It means I think someone was a little quick to hand you Alex’s custody, so there is going to be some careful thought as to if this is really the best situation for Alex.”

. . .

“I could have punched him, Danny. Was it oversight on my part? Yes, I’ll admit that it was. Initially I wasn’t sure who else to put down since chances are if they can’t get me then they wouldn’t be able to get any of you guys either. So I put it off -- a little too long evidently -- but reviewing his case over that?”

Danny sat quietly, watching as Steve paced, waiting for him to finish.

“I mean, isn’t that a little extreme? Especially coming from a guy who talks to Alex for maybe ten minutes in a month. He doesn’t know anything.” Steve stopped with his back to Danny, a long sigh escaping. “He’s finally starting to settle a little and they’re about to take all of the progress he’s made away.”

“That does seem like a little much,” Danny sighed when it seemed like Steve was done. “Especially for something that’s a quick fix. Did he tell you how soon they’d make a decision?”

“End of the week.” Steve plopped down into one of the chairs opposite Danny’s desk, rubbing wearily at his temples.

Danny nodded. “Okay. I’m assuming you plan to fight this if they decide to pull him, right?”

“You have to ask?”

“If it comes to that, you know I’ll do whatever I can to help. I’ve got your back, babe.”

Some of the tension bled out of Steve’s shoulders at Danny’s words. “I know. I know you do. Thank you.”

. . .

Alex stopped at the end of the driveway, staring at Steve’s truck with a frown. They’d left at the same time that morning so Alex knew Steve had driven himself to work. If it was here, that meant Steve was home already -- very, very early.

Which likely meant something was wrong.

He parked his bike next to the garage and went inside to find Steve sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his clasped hands, face pensive.

Steve dropped his hands, face softening slightly, when he noticed Alex. “Hey.”

“You’re home early, which is never a good thing. What’s wrong?”

Sighing deeply, Steve motioned to the spot next to him on the couch.

Alex dropped his bag onto the stairs and sat down.

“I already tipped you off, so I’ll just get right to the point. You -uh, you remember on Tuesday when you got hurt at practice?”

“Hard to forget. Go on.”

“The hospital called in child services when they couldn’t get me right away, and that made them...less than happy.”

Alex’s stomach dropped. When he spoke, the words didn’t feel like they were coming from his own mouth. “They’re taking me away, aren’t they?”

Steve sighed again. “They want to, but I’m not letting that happen without a fight. I told you from the start that I’m not gonna leave you on your own, and I meant it -- I still mean it. I have a hearing with a family court judge in a few weeks to decide the final verdict.” He wrapped an arm around Alex’s shoulders, and the teen easily melted into his side. “I’m not going to let them take you, Alex. Okay?”

“Okay. I trust you.”

As true as those words were, they still felt hollow on Alex’s tongue. He wanted to believe them but he knew it wasn’t as simply as that either. No matter how much faith he had in Steve, they could still take him away.

And there would be nothing either of them could do about it.

. . .

The hearing was not going well and Danny knew it. Robert Kent seemed bent on removing Alex from Steve’s custody and was bringing up every even slightly questionable thing Steve had ever done, whether it related to Alex’s care or not.

And Danny was done listening.

“And furthermore, it was clearly negligence on Commander McGarrett’s part in failing to list a second emergency contact.”

“Your Honor, I’m sorry to interrupt, but to be honest, none of this is in any way relevant.”

“Detective Williams, this is not your forum, and I do believe I am perfectly capable of determining what is relevant and what is not.”

“Yes, I am aware of that, and I apologize -- I really do -- but if I may, I have something I need to say.”

“I do believe you will already be giving a statement.”

“I will be, but this has nothing to do with what I’ve planned to say, your Honor.”

The judge was silent for a moment before saying. “I’ll allow it, but keep it brief, Detective.”

“Your Honor, with all due respect, if you allow Alex to be taken from Commander McGarrett’s custody based only on what you have heard so far, then you will be making a huge mistake.” He paused, taking a deep breath. Steve was either going to hug him or kill him for this later. “I’ve known Commander McGarrett for a long time now, and I will be the first to admit that I hated his guts back then. I thought he was completely irresponsible and reckless. But here’s the thing: he’s downright terrible at first impressions. So forget the bad first impression you’ve been given here so far today because what you are probably thinking is exactly what I thought, too. But the fact of the matter is, your Honor, that I trust him with my life and, moreover, with the lives of my own children.

“See, first impressions don’t tell you everything about a person. My first impression didn’t tell me that his guy was going to give me a place to belong in a place that I hated and a family in a place where I had no one.

“If the other members of Five-0 could be here right now, I know they’d say the same because Steve McGarrett likes to fix broken things. He has again and again taken the outcasts and the misfits and given them a place to call home. All of us at Five-0 are a family.

“And Alex is part of that family now, too.”

Danny paused; he’d been told to keep it short and he was sure he’d already talked longer than the judge wanted, but he hadn’t been stopped yet either.

“Right now, Mr Kent is trying to tell you from a collection of ‘first impressions’ why Commander McGarrett is unfit to be a parent, so allow me to tell you why Mr Kent is dead wrong.

“In the past eleven months, Alex has gone from withdrawn and emotionally volatile to outgoing and emotionally stable -- as stable as any teenager can be, anyway. In the first three months alone Alex was diagnosed with PTSD, properly medicated to help mitigate symptoms, and started in therapy -- all things that should have happened much sooner but were easily overlooked as he was written off as a ‘problem child’ and quickly passed around between homes like he didn’t matter -- and maybe to those people, he didn’t.

“But therein lies the fundamental differences between everyone else Alex has been placed with and Commander McGarrett: instead of calling Alex the problem, he addressed the problems Alex had, and -- maybe even more importantly -- he has never once even considered giving up on Alex.

“Commander McGarrett may not be the perfect parent, but he is a good one, and he does genuinely care about Alex’s well-being and wants the best for him. One oversight that is easily corrected -- because make no mistake, that’s the real reason why we’re here right now -- should not detract from all the good that has already happened -- and it has happened, your Honor; I’ve witnessed it myself. And that is how I can say with absolute confidence, your Honor, that if you allow this to happen, you will be making a huge mistake.”

Danny sat back down in the eerily quiet courtroom.

The judge cleared her throat. “Thank you, Detective Williams. Your words will be taken into consideration.”

. . .

Alex couldn’t concentrate, plain and simple. Steve had offered to let him stay home from school but Alex had declined, thinking it would be a good distraction. But it wasn’t, and he was seriously considering going to the office and signing himself out for the day. His anxiety was the worst it had been in months so he doubted they would make him stay, but would it really be any better if he went home? He doubted it. So at school he would stay for the long four hours that still remained.

Maybe.

He really wasn’t sold on the idea.

(But, again, being home alone probably wasn’t the best idea either, but those were his only two options.)

He forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths; having a panic attack in the middle of World History would not do.

Somehow he made it through the rest of the class and to lunch, skipping the line and heading straight to his usual table, folding his arms and resting his head on them. Maybe if he could close his eyes and focus on his breathing for a minute then his stomach would dislodge itself from his throat and go back to where it belonged.

“Alex?” The clunk of a tray against the table and the thud of a bad against the floor accompanied the voice.

“Hm?”

“Maybe you should go home, man.”

“‘M fine.”

“Yup. That’s very convincing.”

Alex took a breath and raised his head just enough to glare at his friend. “I’m fine, Koa.”

“Ya know, I actually have to agree with him for once,” Nathan said as he slid into the seat next Koa. “You really don’t look good, man.”

Letting his head thump back down, Alex muttered, “It’s just anxiety. It’s nothing.”

A pause, then, “Alex. Go home. I’m serious.”

Alex knew they were right, but… He pushed himself all the way up, meeting their concerned gazes. “I really don’t want to be alone so school is the better option right now.”

Koa shrugged. “Then call Commander McGarrett.”

“Can’t. He’s in court right now, and I don’t know when he’ll be out.”

As if on cue, his phone vibrated in his pocket with a text from Steve.

Steve McGarrett: Hearing’s over. They’ll call with the decision sometime this evening. Are you doing okay?

Alex sighed in relief; Steve always seemed to know when he was struggling and Alex didn’t feel guilty about admitting it if someone asked first as opposed to him just saying it.

Alex Rider: Honestly not really. Steve McGarrett: Omw

“He’s coming to get you, isn’t he.” It wasn’t a question.

Alex nodded. “Yeah. I’m just...gonna head to the office then. See you guys tomorrow.”

“No, you won’t.”

Alex glanced at Nathan as he stood up. “What?”

“No school? It’s Thanksgiving.”

Alex stared blankly for a moment. “Oh. Right. Forgot. Uhm, Monday -- I’ll see you Monday.” I hope.

By the time he got to the office, Steve was already there, still in his dress blues from the hearing, and it took Alex a minute to realize that Steve must have been headed this way to get him already even as he’d texted.

“So how’d it go?” Alex asked as he settled into the passenger seat of the truck.

Steve let out a heavy sigh. “Well, not as good as I’d been hoping, honestly, but not horribly either. We’ve still got a shot.” He paused, shifting into drive and pulling away from the curb. “So what would you like to do with this suddenly school-free afternoon?”

Alex shrugged, worrying his bottom lip. His anxiety was still through the roof so he honestly didn’t want to do much of anything.

“Did you eat?”

Busted. Once again, Steve always seemed to know. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he shook his head, stomach still rather queasy.

Expression full of understanding, Steve nodded once. “Okay. I want you to try when we get home though, all right?”

Alex took a deep breath. “No promises on success.”

“That’s okay. Just try.”

“Okay.”

The rest of the ride was relatively silent apart from Steve assuring him that he didn’t need to worry about school or homework, that they would just relax until they had news. 

Once home, Alex changed from jeans to sweats; no need to be anything less than completely comfortable all things considered. Alex sat down on his bed, listening as Steve went down to the kitchen to find something for them both to eat. Simultaneously exhausted and restless, he honestly didn’t know if he’d rather take a nap or run a marathon. His breathing hitched, and he tried to push everything he was feeling into nice, neat compartments. He knew he shouldn’t, that he should just get it over with and deal with it now, but if he could shove it away for only a few more hours, then he wouldn’t have to deal with it at all. (Because in a few hours they would get word that he was staying -- he would be -- because if he wasn’t, he didn’t know what he would do.)

Calloused hands gently pried his apart, and as Alex’s eyes slowly focused on where Steve knelt in front of him, he wondered when the man had even come in. How long had he been sitting here that Steve had had to come up to get him?

“Oh, kid.”

Those two words were all it took to open the floodgates. An ugly, hysterical sob tore out at the same time Steve pulled him into a hug.

Alex wasn’t sure how long they sat there before the knot in his chest eased and the sobs pettered off into hiccups, but he did know that he didn’t feel any better. Wasn’t that what was supposed to happen? But he didn’t, exhaustion settling even thicker in his bones, his stomach still uncomfortably lodged in his throat. If anything, he only felt worse.

“How are you feeling, buddy? Any better?”

“Not really.”

Steve hummed in thought before he said, “Why don’t you come lay down on the couch and watch a movie with me, and we can go from there. Okay?”

He didn’t want to move, but lying down definitely sounded nice. “‘Kay.”

Steve took one corner of the couch, and Alex curled up next to him, head on the man’s thigh. Some Disney movie played quietly on the TV, but Alex wasn’t really paying attention. Time seemed to drag on; it could have been hours or only minutes before Steve asked if he was feeling up to eating. Alex could only shake his head in response and, strangely enough, Steve didn’t push it.

Then finally -- finally -- Steve’s phone vibrated with an incoming call. Glancing at the ID displayed on the screen, Steve murmured, “This is them,” before picking up. “Steve McGarrett.”

Alex sat up. He had thought he’d feel something when the call came, but all he felt was numb.

After a moment, Steve said, “Thank you very much for calling.” As soon as he’d set his phone down, he turned to Alex and wrapped him in a hug. “Remind me to thank Danny by picking up his tab at Side Street next time. Looks like you’re stuck with me for a little bit longer, buddy.”

It took a moment longer than it should have for the meaning of those words to register, but when they did, Alex almost felt like crying all over again. Instead he tightened his grip and breathed for what felt like the first time in weeks. He couldn’t help but think that maybe Steve really had been telling him the truth all along, that maybe it would actually be true this time.

Maybe he really would never have to be alone again.

. . .

“So, a little birdy named Lou told me you might be needing someone as a second emergency contact for Alex,” Renee commented as she mixed up a salad at the counter. “If you haven’t figured someone else out already, you can always put me down, you know; I don’t mind.”

“Really?” Steve asked, glancing up from the pan he’d just pulled from the oven. “I hadn’t figured that out yet, so I’d really appreciate that actually.”

“Shoots, a sista beat me to it,” Kamekona said from the doorway. “I was gon’ offer, too.”

“As was I,” Max added as Steve turned the corner, carrying the turkey to the table. “Given my profession, I surmised it to be highly unlikely I would not be able to get away if called upon.”

“Great minds think alike,” Jerry piped up next. “I mean, I don’t exactly ever have anything I couldn’t step away from if you needed me, after all, and when I work with you guys I’m not really in the field for all the dangerous stuff, anyway.”

Danny laughed as he came out of the kitchen, carrying more dishes. “So, uh, you think child services will be happy now with that many numbers to choose from?”

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. As Alex came up beside him, he threw an arm around the teen’s shoulders. “I’ve definitely got a lot to be thankful for his year, you know that? So, thank you, guys -- I mean that; it’s been quite a year and I couldn’t have done this without all of you.”

“You don’t need to thank us,” Chin replied with a smile. “We’re ohana; it’s what we do.”

“Yeah, if anything we should be thanking you,” Kono added. “None of us would be here right now without you.”

Steve looked around at the people he called family and realized that Danny had been only partially correct. He may have created a space for them all to belong, but he needed it just as much as everyone else did. They had rescued him just as much as he had rescued them.

A merry band of misfits -- maybe that was just how it was always meant to be.

. . . .

Tags: @diekatimitdemhutohnehut @just-add-butter

[ryqoshay]

So I just finished reading all of How to Handle a Nico and I absolutely fucking loved it, do you have any NicoMaki fanfic recommendations of your own?

I must offer my apologies for the delay in response. I did not forget you, Anon, despite answering two questions that came in after this one. However, I wanted to wait until I knew I had a good amount of time I could dedicate to making a proper list of recommendations worthy of my time in the LL/NicoMaki fandom, which is typically sometime during my weekend.

Also, please bear in mind that this list is not all-inclusive. NicoMaki has one of, if not the most extensive list of fanworks out of the various LL ships. If someone reading this list is a fan of, or the author of a given work not included, please do not take it personally, this is merely a sampling of my favorites. There are genres and tags that I tend to avoid for various reasons, and there are many perfectly good works with the NicoMaki ship tag that I haven’t read simply because they are not the primary focus. And due to current events, as well as those of last year, there is a sizable backlog of NicoMaki focused fics that I hope to get around to reading sometime soon.

And as I expect this to get long, I will put the list itself under a cut.

First and foremost, I must shamelessly shill an author whose first forays into NicoMaki fanfic are based on HtHaN. It’s been almost a year since the first one went up and I remain in awe that I was able to pay forward the inspiration given to me by other authors. For this list I will only be including said works based on HtHaN, though VNVdarkangel has written some other NicoMakis I haven’t read yet.  - Always there - Nico wakes up in the middle of the night. Some post-canon fluffy angst.  - On tracks to the heart - Takes place during the scene transition in Homecoming.  - Meet ‘n’ greet - Nico has a meet ‘n’ greet event and Maki shows up  - Part-time idol composer - Nico hires Riko to compose some idol music for Egao. Minor YohaRiko to keep up the casual connections between HtHaN and HL.  - Next steps... - A long, multi-chapter work that takes place after the numbered chapters of HtHaN. This work tells the story of NicoMaki as they take advantage of the research mentioned way back in Telling Mama. Yay science babies!  - Out of focus - Maki can’t focus on anything but Nico  - The door to dreams - Riko finds the piano from How to Celebrate a Maki and Maki finds Riko. More minor YohaRiko from HL.  - Idol trainer - A non-NicoMaki, RinPana honorable mention tied to HtHaN

Next, I must link a few things from jstonedd, whose works I can point to as being among those that helped cement NicoMaki as a my favorite ship.  - Buy Your Love - By the gods, I’ve honestly lost track of how many times I’ve reread this fic. It is also responsible for my headcanon that Tsubasa teaches Honoka how to skate, which I thusly include in Nico on Ice.  - Soldier Wars - If memory serves, this work earns its M rating less for lewd stuff and more for action movie depictions of violence, like an R rated Charlie’s Angels or something.  - After School Troublemakers - Earns its tag of Fluff and Crack.  - Babies Maybe - More Fluff and Crack I only skimmed the first few chapters of Otonokizaka Private Academy and it didn’t seem very NicoMaki focused or really much my cup of tea. But I’ve heard others like it, and it was finally completed a few years back, so there’s that.

One author with whom I’ve interacted moreso than any other - maybe not VNVdarkangel as of late, but... - is the creator of one of my favorite Fantasy AUs, which is often a genre I don’t read much as it so often leans on Harry Potter, of which I’m quite unfamiliar. Of course I say I often avoid Fantasy AUs despite now writing two... Anyway, we have a few differing headcanons and I must say it’s fun to have a civil discussion about them - as opposed to others that become heated and dissolve into ad hominum attacks like the one marked by Comment Deleted tombstones in the comments of HtHaN. Anyway, that train of thought derailed, so here are some of lonelypond’s works. Worth mentioning that most works take place in the U.S. instead of Japan, something that confused me for a few chapters when I first started reading, but have come to enjoy it, especially when places are mentioned that I know.  - Casual Lunacy - The aforementioned Fantasy AU as well as my introduction to this wonderful writer. Pulls in a quirky character from Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun, an adorable anime I’ve been meaning to finish. Maki is a werewolf. And I really need to reread this one at some point.  - PhotoJazz - Maki is a photographer and Nico is an actress.  - AU Yeah August - A collection of short 1 Shots. I haven’t read all of them, e.g. the Harry Potter one, but those I have were adorable, e.g. Summer Camp, Fake Dating and FWB.  - Christmas Confections - A collection of amazing Christmas themed works that rank among my favorite gifts each year since I first started reading them. I’d link them each individually, but they’re all amazing so just read them all; you won’t be disappointed. Maki and Christmas just go together and lonelypond writes them well.  - Can’t Get Started - To quote the summary “Nishikino Maki is trying to make it in the piranha fishbowl of movies, music and Hollywood. Yazawa Nico already has. And they keep crashing into each other.” Literally. It’s quite amusing. I’ve heard good things from other readers about the 1Kiss series but have only skimmed a few; they are high on my To Read list. The Idol House series came out during my troubled 2019, so it also remains on my To Read list. The Moonlight series seems to focus on NozoEli, which is fine, but for better or worse lowers it position on my To Read list. It’s lonelypond, so I do intend to read it eventually, but there are more NicoMaki focused fics that I’d like to get to first.

Next up is Lucia Hunter, a case where I must separate author from work. To this day I remain uncertain as to the details of the issues between this author and the denizens of Sukutomo, but the animosity exists nonetheless. Still, the listed works below were part of my gateway drugs into the wonderful world of NicoMaki fanfics.  - The Diamond Princess’s Melancholy - How NicoMaki came together.  - Love marginal - My favorite portrayal of KotoHonoUmi. NicoMaki is a side pairing here, and remain so through the rest of the works, but they’re still worth reading, imho.  - Shiranai Love*Oshiete Love - RinPana focus but NicoMaki still plays their role.  - Garden of Glass - de de deee de de deee Obviously NozoEli focused.

My first encounter with Rinforzando was a T rated cute and fluffy fic but they’ve done some pretty good NSFW works as well.  - Ten Years - Always enjoy a good adult NicoMaki fic. - Limbo - NSFW FWB NicoMaki - Caprice - NSFW 2nd Person post-canon NicoMaki. I’m not typically a fan of 2nd Person perspective, but this one was worth it.  - Cheers for Loving You - NicoMaki Secret Santa.

Hidekins is another author that has written a lot of NicoMaki I’ve enjoyed, but on a quick scan through the AO3 entries, few are jogging my memory with title and description alone. Perhaps I’ve read more here on tumblr? Perhaps I’ll come back and add more if I remember them better later.  - NicoMakisses - A set of five cute short NicoMaki stories about kisses.

Saberin writes a lot of 3rd year stuff, and that’s fine, but the NicoMaki collection is worth checking out.  - Prickly Love - As of writing this list, there are 10 chapters of cuteness

whoneedsapublisher writes a lot and I enjoy the style. Thus, when I see NicoMaki pop up on the account, I try to read.  - Couples Therapy - One of my favorite Maki headcanons is included here. Not explicit but earns its M rating and thus is NSFW.  - Subtle - Not particularly crazy about the Nico-taller-than-Maki, but that’s a minor complaint compared to the rest of this wonderful work.  - At Least Six Confessions - Presequel to the above work. Poor Nico had her work cut out for her with a romantically dense Maki.  - Keep Your Promises - Ten years later...  - Happy New Year - Sometimes stalemates must be broken by someone.  - Hidden Depth - Nico’s voice changes. And Maki likes it  - Pretending to Pretend - Not explicit, but earns its M rating so NSFW. One of my favorite examples of the Fake Dating trope.  - Merry Christmas Maki - I can’t think of a better present.  - No Lies Allowed - Truth of Dare, NicoMaki style.  - All Dressed Up - Based on a wonderful pic by noelclover  - Santa’s Stand-in - Guess who still believes...  - Switcheroo - Always love the idea of the girls trying to behave like the others. Makes me want to rewatch that episode.  - Tick, Tock - Some introspective Maki  - Insensitive - NicoMaki dating issues  - Tomatoes - Maki’s favorite food I’ve heard good things about Dazzling Warrior Nightshade, so it’s on my To Read List, but I must admit I can be picky about my Magical Girls stuff. Madoka set an... interesting bar for the genre for me and in most cases I’d prefer to watch it as an anime or read it as a manga/doujin. Still, the idea of Nico being a magic girl amuses me greatly, thus why the fic remains on my radar.

And here are some other random works I’ve enjoyed over the years.  - Smile, Nico Nico! - In which Nico drags Maki to the dentist  - Billiards - NSFW 2nd Person. Yes, I know I just said I’m not typically a fan, but this one was also good.  - Piano For Beginners - NSFW AU where Maki is assigned to teach Nico how to play the piano so as to be convincing for a film.  - critical rules for not-dating - NSFW FWB AU that I need to finish reading someday but was happy enough with what I’ve read that I’d still recommend it.  - 24 visits - Visits as in Nico the idol visiting Maki the doctor in the hospital.  - 24 dates - A NSFW followup to 24 visits

So yeah, that’s a fairly decent list to get one started in their AO3 NicoMaki delving. As mentioned above, this is not all-inclusive and there are a ton of NicoMaki works out there. I haven’t visited FFN in years, so there may still be some authors that post there exclusively and have written some amazing stuff, but I cannot recommend what I haven’t read, or at least skimmed. I also have some tumblr works bookmarked... somewhere, so if I find them I might compare them to this list and maybe add those missed.

Here’s hoping something here piques your interest and makes you fall a little more for the wonderful NicoMaki.

[shintorikhazumi]

Twelve Days of Christmas Project: Day 1

Twelve Days of Christmas Project: Day 1

“So I may have used poison instead of sugar.” for Akko and Sucy?

-Request by Liz! @lizanime3 I hope you like it even just a little bit ;-; Pleaseeee…

A/N: Hola Minna-san! Yes, I’m alive... and yet not. Ok, so I was supposed to start this on the 13th so I could have 12 days until the 25th… but… I’ve actually been really sick for nearly two weeks and I don’t think I’ll be getting better anytime soon. :(

But well, since I finally have enough strength to actually walk around (FINALLY, I’ve been kinda bedridden- and my head isn’t being a little jerk for once), I can work on this, YAY! I’m COMPLETELY out of practice. I‘m sorry if it will su-… be a bit bad. Maybe a bit OOC?

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

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

Gingerbread.

Akko loved gingerbread.

She loved it so much, the desert being a close second only to her precious umeboshi, and that was certainly something considering how much she adored the sour treats.

She loved the refreshing, minty (?) scent of the ginger, she loved how multiple shapes and structures could be constructed by such deliciously edible cookies… bread… cookie-bread. (Akko scratched her head, still trying to unlock the secrets to that one.)

Akko could easily and quite vividly reminisce on her memories, triggered by the gingerbread: A cozy fire back in japan, a log cabin that was a Christmas vacation house for her family, sitting on her papa’s lap as her mother sang her carols and gave her hot chocolate with marshmallows floating in her cup, nearly spilling out- Yes she loved that too, by the way.

Usually, she would relive these memories each Christmas with her family, a small corner of her childhood always tucked away in her heart and opened up during the Merry holidays; quite like a Christmas tree and its décor being stored away and set up each year. It was one tradition she would never replace with anything, and it was just that special considering Akko wasn’t known for being a traditional maiden at all.

… but well…

Who’s to say tradition can’t be broken? (Obviously not Akko, being the number one tradition breaker, citing incidents is of no need.)

And here sat Akko, well, lay Akko, on her bedroom floor, beside their desks that had cookies situated on top amongst all the messy clumps of paper and books; brown and red all over her body in an abstract mix of colors, which was putting it nicely. Putting it bluntly-

“You look like someone dumped buckets of brown and red paint all over you after tripping.” Sucy snidely remarked, stifling a laugh as she simply watched her girlfriend writhe in who-knows-what kind of pain.

The pair were alone in their room as Lotte had gone out to bond with Barbara over the special Christmas edition release of Nightfall, Hannah tagging along. The rest of the gang were doing whatever and the couple decided to spend some… “quality time” together and let their affections grow.

“Gee, thanks.” Akko barked through gritted teeth, not exactly feeling those said affections at the moment. “And whose fault do you think it is that I’m like this?!” She growled, her pearly whites digging into the skin of her lip, drawing a bit of blood.

“Yours?” Sucy replied with extreme nonchalance.

“YOURS!” Akko groaned feeling another bubble in her stomach pop. “What the hell is this?!”

“I honestly don’t know.” Sucy shrugged, kneeling down beside her fallen roommate and wiping the sweat off her brow. “If I knew which potion I knocked in by accident, you wouldn’t be in that kind of pain as I would have already known how to cure you.”

“Ugh!” Akko could feel the tears coming, and despite being quite confident in her bravery and astounding pain tolerance, it wasn’t really something she could be proud of as it didn’t help to quell the pain in her abdomen.

“So I may have used poison instead of sugar.” Sucy said not guilty at all, having baked the favorite treats of her lover as a christmas gift ( Lotte’s Suggestion) . Though she wasn’t sure if Akko’s feelings towards the pastry would remain the same after this traumatic experience.

“YOU WHAT?!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll help you now.” Sucy grinned, assisting Akko in sitting up against the bed as she was instructed to breathe in and out slowly.

“You mean you weren’t?!”

“I am now.” Sucy chuckled and Akko would have hit her if it were possible. “Now, to know what substance is in you right now, I need to ask a few questions.” Sucy explained, opening her potion and poison manual.

“Oh, please do.”

“Would you rather I not?”

“PLEASE.”

“You sounded pretty sarcastic-“

“Sucy.” Akko got out without shouting, a hand that was previously on her stomach, uselessly trying to assuage the pain, gripped Sucy’s pale one and it was then that the girl realized Akko was as pale as her and not at all alright.

“So even someone like you can’t take this kind of poison, huh?” Sucy’s tone had worry laced in it now, squeezing Akko’s hand back. “I’m sorry.” Her eyes turned downcast now, heart suddenly revving its engine and beating strongly as she realized just how much Akko was in danger. “I’m sor-“

“You can apologize after I’m better, jerk.” A playful Akko grinned through her hurting. “That’s not exactly important and I should be used to your horrible methods of tortu- teasing.” She grinned, shakily bringing their linked hands to her cold lips, kissing the back of Sucy’s hand. “I’ll seriously hold you to it.”

With a nod, the mushroom enthusiast went on with her inquiry. “How do you feel? What are your symptoms?” This was more than just one of her experiments on Akko to learn about potions. She usually checked any before giving them to the brunette anyway after deeming them “safe enough” for Akko’s personal intake.

“I feel like there are a ton of giant metal… bubbles, growing and popping against my stomach walls, and I kinda wanna let it out, but I can’t?” Akko tried to draw out her feelings in words as much as she could.

“Maybe you’re just constipated?” Sucy suddenly found herself able to joke again after Akko’s reassurance.

“HA.HA. Real funny.”

“Thanks, I hear mushrooms help people have dry humor.” Sucy replied, not batting an eyelash, hand now pressing down on Akko’s belly while looking through her archives.

“Because they become more delusional and wack?” Akko threw back, preferring this type of distraction from the pain, even if it meant bantering with her girlfriend.

“Say that again and you won’t be having any cuddles or affection.” Sucy threatened half-heartedly.

“Like you give them easily at all!” Akko retorted, now full-on smiling.

“Anything else?” Sucy gave in for once, and Akko was pleasantly shocked.

“Is this because I’m in bad condition?” Akko asked curiously.

“What?” Sucy looked at her incredulously, the sudden question catching her off guard and puzzling her at the suddenness of it all.

“You let me win our little thing just now?”

“Little thing?” Sucy parroted, eyes not leaving her list as she dutifully searched still.

“Our… usual… arguments..?” It felt weird calling it that as Akko felt it was anything but that. “Banter?”

“Ah.” Sucy said in realization. Quieting for a moment and that left Akko to wonder if she had done it subconsciously. “Don’t expect it to happen too often.” She whispered. Akko quirked a brow, a smirk playing across her once-in-pain features.

“Ohohoho… maybe I should be in pain more often then?”

“Scratch that,” Sucy cut off, a deadpanned glare directed at Akko. “Don’t expect it to happen again at all.”

“Why not? I could get what I want for once~” Akko sang, finding a weakness of Sucy, finally, that she could use against her.

“Well, If you’re that willing… be my guest.”

Suddenly Akko felt a chill run up her spine as Sucy gave her a once-over.

“I have no qualms with that, we can have it arranged.”

Akko’s grin dropped as she quieted down, terrified of whatever possibilities hid behind that expression of her girlfriend. “On second thought, let’s not.” She backed out rather quickly and silence resumed between the two roommates once more.

After a few minutes, Akko’s sweat accumulating on her brow once more from the pain, she heard a frustrated sigh come from her companion.

“Sucy?” She called.

“Why can’t I find it?! Nothing seems to match the description.” She scratched her head, messing up her usual smooth hairdo. “How can I help you? I don’t even know what’s wrong- and I… I thought…”

“Shh…” Akko pulled Sucy into a weak side hug. “You’re trying. I know you are. It’s not like we can’t take our time. I’m… I’m a strong girl!” Akko said in a silly voice, and as she gazed into Sucy’s eyes, the girl in a rare giggling fit, Akko was reminded of how much Sucy loved her, enough to have a few tears sitting at the corners of her eyes.

Smiling at that, feeling an overwhelming pleasant warmth, Akko leaned forward, planting a kiss on Sucy’s forehead.

“I know you can do it.”

Sucy simply nodded, once gain baffled by her girlfriend’s believing heart and amazing encouragement skills. “I’ll do it. Just you watch me.”

Despite saying that, no results were gleaned and Akko was now on the brink of passing out from the pain that wasn’t going away at all. Sucy looked like she was about to rip her hair out.

“H-hey, Sucy? Maybe we should ask a professor-?”

“Just a bit more Akko.” Sucy replied stubbornly. “Just a bit mo-“

The door swung open and in hopped a float-y and grinning Lotte, bags and bags of merchandise hanging on her arms. She noticed after a bit the state of her room, and her roommates and cocked her head in worried confusion.

“What is…?”

“Accidentally put poison instead of sugar, I think.” Sucy explained briefly and Lotte just continued to stare, unnerving Akko and Sucy.

“And?”

“I can’t seem to find which poison.” Sucy rolled her eyes.

“If you said you mistook it for sugar, can’t you just… I don’t know…” Lotte spoke, placing her things away and sitting with her best friends as she stated in a matter-a-fact way. “Look for a poison that looks like sugar?”

…

A loud slap was heard in the room and Sucy’s forehead was as red as the random parts of Akko’s body.

“Ugh!” The couple groaned.

“Oh, you’re really starting to become more and more like a couple in unity.” Lotte clapped as Sucy finally found the poison and made the cure.

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

As they lay in bed, Sucy sleeping over on Akko’s, as it had become a… tradition of sorts for them to sleep together, sleeping on one’s bed on certain days and such, the Filipina couldn’t help but ask.

“Still love Gingerbread?” She asked teasingly. “If you do, you’re some masochist… or maybe immune to trauma.” Sucy jested, she knew Akko was anything but that, but what’s a little fun after a problematic day?

Akko shifted from her position, lying beside Sucy and faced her with her own grin. “Do I still love you after all that?” She shot back and Sucy couldn’t help but blush, obviously knowing the answer. Akko nodded, the red glow on Sucy’s face visible even in the dim lighting. “I guess we both know the answer then.” Akko laughed as she turned back to her original position.

There was a shift beside her and her droopy eyes opened wide as Sucy lay atop her, placing a small kiss on her lips before hiding in Akko’s chest.

“I love you too… idiot.

“I love you too Jerk.”

 Merry Christmas LIZ!

A/N: Soooo? How was it? SO SO SO SO? I hven’t written in a while so I barely… know my abilities… ;-; I hoped y’all enjoyed? So anyone else wanna send a prompt can.. do it since well... yeah. I hope to post 12 of these. Soon. I only got 2-3 tho. hahhha... Thank you for reading still from this lousy author. Thank you!

~Shintori Khazumi!

[dragon-moms]

Entry 120 - Merry

Okay, hello again, Diary! Where was I… I’m still catching up. We keep moving and flying and it’s all very tiring but I don’t want to leave you in the dark! You need to know, right, Diary? I think so, anyway. We’re friends, you know?

So what did I write last… I wrote about… we got out, I told you about that… and then we flew and things… and oh right, I need to tell you about what happened at Baroness’ place!

“Isn’t it dangerous to go back to Baroness’ place?” Philly asked that morning. She was sitting on my shoulder as we ate breakfast. With no tables and stuff, everyone sort of agreed she needed to stay off the ground in some way so nobody actually hurt her, and this was her solution so I didn’t have to hold her while I ate. I tried very hard to stay still so she wouldn’t fall off, Diary! But I had to admit, I liked having her that close. I knew she was safe that way. I can’t lose her again. I just can’t.

I can’t, Diary.

“We need to meet up with my mother,” Myrmidon said. “I do believe she may be of some assistance, at the very least.”

“And you miss her,” I added.

Myrmidon averted their eyes, embarrassed, “Ah, well, I cannot deny it…”

“Baroness will be helpful, though, I agree,” Gloria said, biting off another piece of jerky. “She knows her shit and she’d be helpful in a fight.”

“Our group’s already too big to move quietly,” Nobody complained. “It seems like a huge waste of time to grab someone’s feeble old mom.”

“Ah, perhaps you are not aware. My mother is a wizard of some renown,” Myrmidon said.

“Sure she is,” Nobody said, “best in the territory or some shit.” I think she was being sarcastic, Diary.

Myrmidon just nodded and smiled in agreement. “Correct.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Ivan… uh, Nobody,” Flare said. “I mean, if that’s where we’re supposed to be, that’s where we’ll be, right?”

Nobody just made a noise of annoyance.

“I’d like to see Baroness again, and let her see her children,” Philly said, “I’m just worried that there’s going to be adjudicators waiting for us. That was where we were captured. Surely they’d check it?”

“I’ll scout again,” came Dagger’s voice from somewhere. “What else am I good for…”

“Thank you,” Philly said. “We can’t be too cautious, and I appreciate the help.”

“I agree,” Gloria said. “Thank you, Dagger.”

“Yeah…” ey said, sounding a bit embarrassed.

When we finally got there after, like, a lot of flying, Dagger told us ey didn’t see anyone.

And soon we were there! And Baroness was there! She was alright, Diary! Myrmidon told me she would be, but I don’t quite know how she did it. But that’s okay. What’s important is that she’s here, you know? And Myrmidon gave her a big hug and it was all kind of sweet. They really care about their mom.

Soon, everyone was sitting down to strategize. I stood there nervously for a little, but I’m not really someone who knows about things like that. I didn’t know what I could do to help with their planning. But I did know what I could do. I could do the one thing I’m good at.

“Myrmidon,” I said, “I think I’m going to try to make some food for everyone…”

“Ah, a wonderful idea, my sweetest,” Myrmidon said. “Allow me to join you. We can see what we can salvage from the stores I set aside for Philly during her stay.”

I smiled. “Yeah, that sounds good. That sounds helpful, right?”

“Most certainly,” Myrmidon said, smiling.

“Can I stay here?” Philly asked, looking up at me.

“Oh, well…” I said, hesitating.

“I’ll be safe here,” Philly said. “And this… this whole thing is my fault, so I want to help…”

“It’s not your fault,” I said, “not at all. It’s just…”

“A bit of misfortune, perhaps,” Myrmidon finished for me.

“Maybe… but still…” Philly said. “And I want to catch up a little with Baroness anyway.”

Still, I hesitated. Myrmidon put a claw on my shoulder. “It will be fine, my sweetest,” they said.

“Alright… alright, but we’ll be back soon with some food, okay?” I said, and set her down on the lab table where Gloria and Baroness were discussing things.

“Thanks, Merry,” Philly said.

Myrmidon gave me a gentle tug to get me away from her, and finally we headed to see what we could maybe cook.

“There isn’t much here we can use,” I said as we looked through what there was. Philly didn’t eat much, so Myrmidon hadn’t purchased a ton of supplies to begin with, and we had been gone so long that a lot of it had gone bad or moldy.

“It does appear to be the case,” Myrmidon said. “Perhaps we will have to dig into what’s left of Gloria’s travel supplies.”

“That doesn’t seem good…” I said, thinking. “Maybe I can make this stretch… try to make something that’s mostly broth and stuff… some of it we can cut off the mold and it won’t be great, but okay...”

Myrmidon did a little bow. “My claws are yours, my sweetest. Shall I, perhaps, prepare a cauldron?”

“Oh, maybe?” I said, turning to them. “Yeah, probably.”

“I shall set it up in the entryway, and begin warming some water,” they said.

“Yeah! Thanks,” I said, smiling.

I set to cutting and salvaging what I could. Some vegetables were fine, once I got rid of the most wilted parts. We had flour, and an egg that seemed okay. There was some salted bacon, which was still fine. It wouldn’t be much of a soup, not much meat, but I could make dumplings to make it filling. And Myrmidon thankfully had enough of a supply of dried seasonings that I could probably make it taste okay, even if I cooked it a little too long to make sure nobody got sick.

“Do you have a pan?” I asked as Myrmidon returned.

“Ah, yes. I will have to hunt it down, however,” they said, immediately turning back around. They returned a few moments later with a simple pan, and I dumped the bacon I’d chopped into it.

“I’ll have to heat the pan with my breath… you don’t have a stove…” I said, thinking.

“My apologies,” Myrmidon said. “I should have constructed one, but we had so little need of such things before your daughter moved in…”

“It’s okay!” I said. “It’s not a big deal, you know? I can do that! It’ll just take a bit…” I gave a little smile. “I’ll go up and start on that… can you bring the rest of the ingredients up?”

“Of course, my sweetest.”

I went up to the entrance way where the cauldron of water was heating, not yet to a boil. I breathed on the bottom of the pan until it felt hot, and then took my time frying the bacon, and soon, as Myrmidon appeared with them in a bowl, softening the vegetables. Soon they were all in the cauldron, making some sort of stock that I hoped I could season.

“It’s good to be cooking...” I said as Myrmidon and I worked on making a simple dough for dumplings.

“It is certainly your element,” Myrmidon said, smiling.

“It feels kind of normal,” I said.

Myrmidon nodded.

“It’s not, really, though.”

“Perhaps not… but it is a start, of a sort.”

“I guess so…” I said.

“However this ends up, I am positive there will be a normal again,” Myrmidon said softly. “We will make the best of it. And we will be together.”

“That’s… thank you…” I said. I worked the dough in my claws. “We will be… I just… I wonder about everyone else… I used to cook for so many nice people... like, all my customers who came to depend on my bread and things… I won’t get to make bread for them anymore…”

“I suppose that is right,” Myrmidon said. “It is unlikely I will see any of the customers I was building a rapport with again as well.”

“And my Human-watching Club… and Clementine… and so many people at the Plains…” I said. My claws were still working somehow, but I was getting upset. “I won’t get to cook for them anymore either…”

I think Myrmidon had stopped working at this point, Diary. But I couldn’t really see.

“It’s worth it, I know it’s worth it… Philly is safe, she’s in the lab… but it’s…” I wiped at my eyes, and just ended up getting flour on my face. Myrmidon produced a cloth for me to wipe off with. “Sorry…”

“It is alright, Merry. Take your time,” they said.

“Grandpa… Grandpa said that cooking was a connection, you know? It connects us together… and… and I have lots of wonderful friends who are going to help, lots of friends I can cook for, but I still…” I tried to find words, Diary, I really did. But they were gone. “I don’t know what I’m saying… I’m sorry…”

“It is quite alright… I believe I understand,” Myrmidon said.

“You do?” I asked.

“I was created for a wide variety of tasks, but first and foremost, to serve,” they said. “I… well, I was obviously thankful when my mother released me from my thrall, and let me make my own decisions, but it is still what I am, to a point. And I find when I am in a less positive mood, I look for things I can do, tasks I can complete, much in the way I used to. Perhaps it is much like your cooking, in that it is the way I find connection and purpose when I know nothing else to do. Ah, in fact, see how I jumped into action to support you here today.” They smiled softly.

“I’m sorry…” I said.

“Do not be. I want to help just as you want to help by feeding your friends,” they said. “But you have lost something, an outlet, perhaps, and it is okay to feel for that loss. That is all I mean. I know if I lost any of those close to me that I serve, I would be quite distraught.”

The broth bubbled away behind me and I looked into Myrmidon’s eye.

I moved to them and hugged them tight.

“I just… I hope I can be a baker again…” I said softly.

“I hope so as well,” Myrmidon said.

“We… we should finish with the dumplings,” I said, making myself move away from them. “Everyone is going to be hungry…”

Myrmidon nodded and smiled.

So the dumplings turned out alright! Though we had to really improvise on having enough bowls for everyone… but that’s okay, because I got everyone fed, Diary. I did it. I got a bowl in front of everyone. And...

Oh, we’re moving again… um…

Everyone thought the food was okay… and Clementine brought me you, Diary! And there was some… well, I have to go, I’m sorry, I’m almost caught up, though! But we have to keep moving… soon, Diary, I promise! I’ll tell you everything!

[askemilydeanyo]

Question: I would first like to say thank you for spending the time and effort to reply. I really appreciate it. I would also like to acknowledge that I am not a writer so bare with me as I attempt to put feelings into words.  Next month my boyfriend and I will be celebrating our 3 year anniversary. When we first started dating in college our sex life was mind blowing. The passion, frequency, desire was out of this world. Here recently with the stresses of life- the frequency and desire has decreased. I feel like the passion still remains but the desire (on my part) is at an all time low. My parter on the other hand has an extremely high sex drive and almost aggressive approach. Not aggressive in a bad way, but almost primal-like force. He wants sex whenever, wherever. We work opposite schedules, he works 9-5 M-F and I work long 12 hour night shifts in a high-stress Emergency Department. I find myself emotionally and physically drained after a couple days of work, so the last thing on my mind is sex. I do love him, and I want to spend the rest of our lives together, but I can’t help but worry that my desire to have sex is declining. I also worry that if I am not having sex with him as frequently as he desires, that he will began to look else where. Recently, one night while I was at work, he went out to the bar with friends. He got home and had a snap chat message from a girl he has been friends with for over 6 years. They both lost a mutual friend to suicide, so they have a bond I can’t began to relate to. She had said something along the lines of ‘you forgot to tell me Merry Christmas.’ He responded, they talked about life, about her relationship, about his and I’s relationship. Somewhere in the conversation it escalated to him asking her if she has ever been curious about him sexually. So a week later I got a Facebook message from her ex-boyfriend telling me what happened. My boyfriend when confronted about it stated that he stopped the conversation after a couple of messages and he didn’t feel it necessary  to tell me because nothing ‘happened’ it was just a conversation that out of of hand. (Also it was on snap message so I have to trust that that is how the conversation went down, of course my mind went to thinking he was planning something or trying to find options.) Now I am feeling very betrayed, hurt, and guilty that my recent lack of desire has caused him to look else where for the euphoric feeling like he is wanted sexually.  Any advice is appreciated. 

Answer: Hey! Thank you for sharing this well-articulated and extremely valid concern with me :-) I have a lot to say here so let’s pray that I make some kind of sense and jump right in.

So! When we first fall in love there are two specific regions in our brain that pretty much set fire, being our caudate nucleus and ventral tegmental area. These areas are super rich in dopamine which triggers both feelings of reward and pleasure. Similarly, when we experience new skin to skin contact our brains release a ton of oxytocin which is a hormone known for aiding in sexual reproduction (oxytocin is released right after sex and also while giving birth.) What i’m getting at here is that it’s totally normal for our sex lives to be out-of-this-world in the beginning and then gradually dwindle down.

When we are in our honeymoon stage, our body releases a ton of hormones that we usually only receive in smaller, more regulated doses. During the first stages of love (let’s say, first 6-18 months) there is a crazy chemical cocktail going on in our brain that pretty much makes us sex-crazed animals; and then eventually, that begins to fade away. We become busy with work, and trying to maintain a social life, and finishing assignments on time, and keeping the house clean. We focus less and less on our partners immediate sexual needs and subsequently put them on the back burner. This is normal and natural and to be expected; so this is where the art of maintenance comes into play.

Total side-note: I was listening to Sex with Emily (my favorite podcast) — the episode is titled “Show & Tell to Orgasm Well” — and she touches on the same subject and offers some good advice, but I’ll let you listen to that on your own time rather than try to paraphrase it for you. Her podcast is one of my favorites and I think you may find a lot of answers to your questions if you listen in your spare time!

So, when we agree to enter a monogamous relationship with someone, it usually means ‘I agree to be your one and only sexual partner.’ Because of this, when we stop meeting our partners sexual needs, we are essentially condemning them to celibacy. When this happens, it usually results in one of two things: 1) Our partner remains loyal to us, takes up masturbation, communicates their wants and needs to us, etc., or 2) They begin searching elsewhere.

Although your partner hasn’t physically cheated, your feelings of betrayal are totally valid. (In fact, I’ve always found emotional affairs to hurt more than physical ones.) When we are in a committed relationship with someone we hold them to a certain standard (on a pedestal, if you will,) and when they deviate from that it can feel like a personal stab at us. We think “But, I’d never do that to you!” because, quite simply, we wouldn’t. So I think there are a few things we need to focus on.

First, you two are on two totally different schedules, and thus in two totally different mindsets. While you’re at work, you’re thinking about saving lives. When he gets off work, he has from 5p.m until he falls asleep to think about sex. When you get home, you’re ready to relax, he’s ready to fuck.

Ask yourself some questions. Does he understand how stressful your work environment is? Do you talk to him about it afterwards? What does he do for a living? Does he work a job that requires him to be alert and on his feet all day, or is he working a desk job? Everyones sex drive is different, just as their coping mechanisms are. Some people work a long day at the office and want to come home and have sex as a reward. Some people work long nights in the ER and don’t think about sex for months. This works in reverse too. What kind of man is your man? Does he tend to aggressively pursue you the moment you get off work? Where is your mind when he does this? How is your communication surrounding this topic?

Second, there’s this girl. What I find most troubling about this conversation is that it was the girl’s boyfriend that reached out to you. Your partner did not feel compelled to, nor did she — but if it was risqué enough that her boyfriend felt compelled to talk to you about it, something certainly doesn’t sound right. Has your boyfriend done something of this nature before?

I want to say this is innocent. I want to say, there is a difference between just looking at the menu and actually ordering from it. But as someone who cares for your partner, as someone who is by his side, I understand the frustration of finding your partners’ head in the refrigerator at midnight when you two are supposed to be dieting together. “But I didn’t actually eat anything!” he may say. “But you were tempting yourself!” you may respond. It is a similar concept.

When you begin to see your partner in this light (not quite literally the low buzzing light of the refrigerator in the middle of the night,) you begin to view them differently. We wonder how tempted they were. We wonder where their mind has been lately. We wonder if they aren’t as committed as we are, and to put it bluntly, that fucking sucks. We want our partner to be on the same page as us as often as possible, and when they stray from that it can feel strange and uncomfortable.

Peculiar analogy, sure, but what I am really stressing is that your feelings are valid here. Your partner betrayed you, and no matter how major or minor the betrayal, these things take time to get over. You’re left wondering if they’ve been snacking while you’ve remained true to the diet; if they’re thinking about candy when you’re giving them your most decadent fruit.

So let’s go over some potential solutions.

First, what is your partner doing about this? Has he apologized or showed remorse? Did he explain the reason behind his actions? Did he minimize your feelings? The way people act when backed into a corner shows a lot about their character. Was he understanding and transparent, or cold and standoffish? Do you feel that you can trust him? Is this something you’re going to keep in the back of your mind forever, or hold over his head during arguments? Do you have the power to forgive? What about the power to forget?

Moving forward, we can go over some potential solutions to re-boost your sex drive. You noted that you feel emotionally and physically drained after work; consider taking note of what you do to decompress. Do you nap? Do you run a bath? Do you have a glass of wine? Do you get bi-weekly massages? Are these things that your partner can join you in? Have you considered incorporating sex into your relaxation routine?

Here is what I would recommend, girlfriend to girlfriend (assuming you’ve gotten past these feelings of distrust): get a journal and write out all the feelings you have kept in for the day. You need a place to dump your emotional baggage, and if you and your partner are struggling sexually I would suggest not dumping it on him. Write what happened that day, how you’re feeling, what you witnessed, etc. Get that out of you.

The next thing I suggest is asking your partner to help you decompress after work. Ask him to tune into your needs, as you so often do with his. Explain to him that you endure a lot of mental stress at work and that in turn takes a toll on you physically. Consider taking a bubble bath together, or asking him for a massage, or sharing a few drinks over dinner before considering being intimate. Realize that sex is meant to make you feel good, and relaxed, and at ease.

I think if you considered introducing foreplay into your post-work relaxation routine that could re-vamp your sex life. Buy a massage oil candle and have him use it to give you a massage, and then maybe if you are finally at a relaxed state you can have sex. Ask him to buy you a bath bomb and take a bath together. Surprise him with a bottle of wine and share it. Tune back into your romantic side. You said the passion is there but the desire isn’t. I think your stress level has a lot to do with this, so relax! When you are at ease, your muscles relax, your cervix lifts, your vaginal walls self-lubricate, and you feel desire. Practice incorporating relaxing with sex and I think this will do your sex life justice.

A second suggestion is to buy him a fleshlight or some other masturbation tool. Perhaps he’s as tired of his hand as he is you turning him down (I’m certainly not excusing his behavior - only offering reason). Give him something new to play with. This should not be done in order to keep him from seeking other girls, rather, to keep him feeling good when you are feeling unavailable.

With all that being said, though, you should never have sex out of pressure. Sex isn’t a chore. It isn’t something you give out because you feel like its overdue, and it isn’t a tool to use to keep your partner around. Sex should be enthusiastic, it should be mutually-respectful, it should be novel but also comfortable. I’m going to include a link here to an old post I wrote about keeping your sex life alive:

http://askemilydeanyo.tumblr.com/post/144307372053/so-i-have-been-dating-my-boyfriend-for-over-a-year

In summary, there will always be ebbs and flows in relationships. Sometimes you will want sex five times a day and sometimes you will want sex once a month. Sometimes you want to be attached at the hip and sometimes you can’t stand being near your partner. Sometimes you are in sync, sometimes you are on opposite ends of the spectrum. Loving someone means meeting them in the middle. It means patience, understanding, and going without sex sometimes. If you plan on spending several years with this person, more-less the rest of your life, you need to make sure that he understands this. You cannot force yourself to be available on his command nor should you feel compelled.

This, and to make sure you are in constant communication. Find the balance of letting him know that you are stressed when you get off work while not bombarding him with it. Let him know when you are feeling insecure in your relationship, or in your skin. Explain to him what you’re feeling, when you’re feeling it, and if you can, why you’re feeling it. Ask him to communicate things with you too. Instruct him to tell you if you’re coming off as too cold; too distant. Ask him what you can do to help him.

There are two people in a relationship (typically), so when there is an issue, it most certainly requires work on both ends. He must practice patience and understanding, you must practice giving and forgiving.

Best of luck to you two

[evelyntransitions-blog]

Day 58 The ghost of pre game Christmas, The Christmas game and post Christmas

            Christmas Eve was easy. Just a slow work day where everyone got scheduled on the closing shift. That meant less customers to have trying to rush. The last guy I got looked like Santa. I actually decided to be a JA and say “What’s up Santa?” He laughed. He was also Drunk. Fun stuff. After work I went to my parents house for a little bit. It was weirdly calm. I got some good gifts too. Money, gas card, socks, and a hair straightener. I spent the later part of the night at my best friends house, and we watched the movie “The Ref” by Ted Demme and Marie Weiss staring Kevin Spacey.  His parents wanted to show us really badly, so we just kinda roll’d with it. It’s funny as fuck. Lots of cussing and A class one liners. Check it out. I midly regret shiny chaining in Pokemon while doing it, despite catching my shiny formantis, who is now a shiny lurantis. His name is Devin after my friend Devin. This may be the first time you’ve seen a persons name that isn’t my own. Consider it a late Christmas gift.

Oh and my friend got a multi color radio.

Christmas day was kind of all over the place. I have to ACTUALLY be brief due to getting ready for work. Here’s what happened. -I shiny chained again and caught a shiny Feebas. -We talked a lot about random stuff and there were lots of jokes and puns. His Dad got midly offended by a Jesus one I made (I don’t think it was that bad). The Joke was (without context). “No Jesus I can’t pay you in water, you have to drive over here.” Heh’. His Dad just very quietely said “Careful...” -His Brother told us about some guy who knew that sued a hospital after getting a brown recluse bite.  -A good chunk of my best friends family came over shortly after. I guess his aunt and uncle and their kids? The kids were 3 little girls. There was a really little one that kinda explored a lot, a middle one that was a little chubby and kinda nice and I guess the oldest one who had a princess complex. They were all relatively polite. They just sort of tore through gifts. His aunt was kind of a butt to his grandma because she got one of her little girls a duplicate gift. Like she’s old...lay off. 

-One of the girls got fox pajamas and was so happy with them she changed into them sometime during the day when everyone was talking and just spent the rest of the day in them.

-We ate a ton of food and I monopolized as much of the devil’d eggs and hashbrown cassorle as I could, since last year it was mostly all gone. This time I had my way. I feel bad though because my best friends older brother didn’t get any devil’d eggs. Next time i’m over i’ll eat less of those. -Me and my best friend went back to my apartment after everybody left. I had to drive because he drank too much. -In the car he explained his hatrid of corporate greed. He doesn’t like big companies over charging people for necessitates. There was more, but i’m not going to say all of it. 

-I have him his Christmas gifts. I also found I lost my D.S. charger. The rest of the night there was a huge hunt for it. Not in my apartment. Not back at my parents house. Not at his house. Fartmart was close. Gas stations didn’t have any. -We got gas station food and caught pokemon at the gas station. -We drove back to his house and after arriving we talked a bit more. I showed him that I was back on miitomo by Nintendo. I kept sending him weird mii’s, one being labeled “Depression” which is a balding guy in a penguin suit, who has a droopy nose and says sad shit in the mopiest voice imaginable. Hugs and goodbyes afterthat.           The day after consisted of a lot of work. I got some groceries post work and bought double what I usually buy to stock up for my vacation. I got a new D.S. charger from gamestop. I got home and my roomate did the dishes and informed me not to leave dishes upside down and let them dry before putting them away, lest mold grows. She said some of mine had mold on them, and that she recleaned them. EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW. I’ve been so used to doing dishes every few days and cleaning the piss out of them, that I guess they never had time to grow mold, but since they sat for a while this time, they grew mold. I’ll head her advice. Needless to say I apologized a lot. 

         Charged my D.S. and played more Pokemon. IF YOU CAN’T TELL I FUCKING LOVE POKEMON. POKEMON-POKEMON-POKEMON. 

So that’s Christmas. Merry Christmas.