#but also why I do always draw Michael only in the middle of the night?

[thedeaddraws]

A bonus Michael to go with my OG Archival gang designs

[notebooknonbinary]

Byler Week, Day 1: Halloween

Happy Halloween to those who celebrate! (Happy s2 Byler to all) And happy first day of Bylerweek!

Today is Day 1: Halloween / AU / –gate. I chose to write a fic bc my drawing skills need serious brushing up skills and I can eventually stuff this fic into my other fic’s universe😌.

Edit: Also posted to Ao3:)

Halloween used to be Mike’s favorite holiday. He’s always loved dressing up as whatever his favorite character that year is. And he loves seeing what other people dress up as.

One year, before the Party started doing group costumes, he and Will had gone as Kirk and Spock. He’d even made the ultimate sacrifice and let Will be Kirk.

Tiny little seven-year-old Will had made an adorable Starship Captain (equally tiny Mike had thought he looked super cool). Mike’s fake ears had itched, but he’d liked the cool blue color of his shirt. And everyone that gave them candy that night had known they were a pair, which had thrilled them both to pieces.

The first year that the Party did group costumes, Mike and Dustin had convinced the other two to go as DC superheroes (Lucas and Will have always preferred Marvel). Lucas had been Green Arrow, and Dustin had picked the Flash (his favorite). Everyone had expected Mike to go as Superman, who was his all-time favorite. Except he’d gone as Batman instead and asked Will to be Superman. Everyone’s costumes had turned out great, but Mike’s favorite had absolutely been Will’s—handmade by Mrs. Byers as always.

(It seems obvious in retrospect, that Mike had already begun to get a crush on Will—which is why he’d wanted him to be Superman.)

(And then, of course, the Halloween—only a few days before Will would be taken by Vecna, the Party had dressed up as Star Wars characters. This time it’d been easy to convince everyone that Will as Luke was just the obvious, correct choice, and not because Luke was obviously the best character.)

But Eighth grade had been the last time any of them had dressed up (“Who you gonna call?”) —and it hadn’t exactly ended well.

(Well, technically that Halloween had ended with Mike and Will hanging out alone in the basement, watching a lighthearted movie and sitting close together to feel safer—so that part…)

Freshman year, Mike had been in the middle of being miserable and missing Will and El too much to even think about a costume—and last year, they’d been in the middle of recovering from an apocalypse (neither Will, nor Max, had even been awake yet).

So now there are multiple anniversaries right around Halloween that seem much more prevalent than going around getting candy (which they’re pretty much too old for anyway, in Mike’s unhappy opinion), or going to a Halloween party—with too many people they’re not friends with, and alcohol, which none of the Party even likes.

So yeah, Mike doesn’t really intend to broach the subject of costumes this year.

Instead it’s Will who brings it up. “If all I have to focus on this year are the shitty memories and handing out candy, I’m going to scream.” Then he grins, a little mischievous. “Plus this is the first Halloween that we’re dating. I’ll be able to tell you this time that I think you look handsome in your costume, instead of pretending that you, as Han Solo, didn't fluster me half to death.”

Mike, they’ve both learned, is much easier to tease out of the two of them—Will makes a game sometimes, out of all the easy ways he can make Mike blush. Like right now.

“You’re mean,” he grumbles, hiding his suddenly warm face in his hands. It only gets warmer at Will’s delighted laugh. “You wanna do a group costume with the Party, or a pair like we used to?”

“The Party’s a lot bigger than it was back then—it’d be too hard to coordinate on short notice. But…” Will trails off. Mike risks a look at Will, who is suddenly much closer, smile softened but eyes still bright with mirth. “I think, Michael, that in this context, it’d be a couple’s costume, not just a pair.”

Mike resists the urge to hide his face again.

“Everyone always thinks I’m the mean one of the two of us,” he grumbles, but accepts the embrace Will is silently, cheerfully, offering—nosing into the other boy’s shoulder. “I’m gonna tell your mom you were bullying me. She loves me, you’ll get in trouble.”

“Tattletale,” Will singsongs. “I’ll stop bullying you if you let me pick our costumes this year.”

Mike, who doesn’t actually want Will to ever stop bullying (aggressively flirting with) him, cocks his head. “Alright Byers, deal.” He pauses. “And you just have to lay off flustering me in front of our friends—they already think I’d let you get away with anything.”

Will snickers. “You know what? Deal. But, for the record, I think you would let me get away with anything. Which is why, one day, you’ll go with me and El to Vegas so we can use our powers to scam the slot—”

Mike interrupts this long-running (hopefully a) joke to kiss Will. Will leans into it briefly, reaching up to weave a hand into Mike’s hair. After a moment, though, he pulls back, looking thoughtful.

“Now we have to figure out what we’re doing for Halloween.”

…

The Halloween of Mike and Will’s Junior year of high school, the Extended Party (minus Jonathan and Nancy, away at their colleges) convene on the Byers-Hopper house, dressed to the nines in their Halloween costumes. The plan is to watch minorly scary movies, eat far too much junk, and take turns answering the door for Trick-or-Treaters.

The Original Members of the Party (including Max) show up early to help set up.

Dustin is in a full suit and tie, a gun holster (with two full water guns in it), and a fedora. The entire setup is impressive, but none of his friends can guess who he’s supposed to be. The only one who understands who his character is immediately, is—oddly—Hopper.

“Elliot Ness.”

“Yes! Thank you!!”

It turns out that, having recently seen the Untouchables, Dustin had gone on a research spree about the Real-life man, and been fascinated. Thus, his choice of costume.

Lucas and Max have decided against couple costumes. Instead, Max wanted to go as Wonder Woman, so she has (and she looks every bit the Amazon warrior, sitting in her wheelchair like it’s a throne).

Lucas, on the other hand, has finally been able to be a Marvel superhero. After long deliberation between all of his favorites, he’d finally settled on Falcon—partly because he enjoyed the recent comics miniseries, but also because if he’d gone as Spider-Man (his other big choice), he’d have to keep removing the mask to eat.

“Falcon is just cool enough to date Wonder Woman,” Max tells him, mock-loftily.

He laughs, leaning across her lap to give her a kiss. “Well, Wonder Woman is more than cool enough to date Falcon.”

This being one of El’s first actual Halloweens’, she chose to go as the ghost she’d wanted to go as on her first Halloween—though the simple sheet had been switched for a white dress, pale makeup, and fake blood (with the occasional appearance of actual blood when she used her powers to get another soda, or pop Mike across the head with a pillow).

Steve and his group seem to have collectively decided to go as the Breakfast Club (or perhaps Steve is in regular clothes, it’s hard to tell). Robin, dressed as the outcast girl, is lounging across Vickie’s (dressed as Molly Ringwald’s character) lap, attempting to toss popcorn into Steve’s mouth. She’s largely just making a mess, but neither of them seem to care.

The (actual) adults of the bunch settle in the kitchen. Joyce convinced Hopper to do a couple’s costume with her (they’ve gone as Frankenstein and the Bride of Frankenstein), but Murray shows up wielding a bottle of something very strong for them to drink and wearing just a dollar store cape over his regular clothes.

(Erica, out with her other friends for one last candy-haul before high school next year, will come at eight-thirty. She’s dressed up as her DnD character, Lady Applejack. She has no plans whatsoever to share her candy—even though she knows she probably will end up doing so.)

Joyce had been overjoyed to see what costumes Mike and Will picked this year.

She hadn’t been the only one.

When Will told Mike what costumes he wanted, Mike almost cried. He is (not so) secretly a sap, and Will knows it (though Will isn’t much better on that front, honestly).

“Shall we, Mr. Spock?”

“Indeed we shall, Captain Kirk.”

It’s the best Halloween yet, in their opinions.

[watchit-kal]

The Purge Franchise is one of my Favorites of all Time

Personally, I do not believe James DeMonaco ever got the proper recognition for his creation. In a time of regurgitation, rinse, and repeat, he made something brand spanking new. A few weeks ago I sat down and watched every movie “in order,” so join me as I rank them and sing DeMonaco’s praises along the way. From how he chose to draw in the audience to who he chose to direct the film, James DeMonaco has earned himself a spot on my people to watch list. I honestly want to rewatch the series as well, but I just watched it a few months ago (for the third time), so it seems a tad over the top.

Now, I will admit some of The Purge fans are downright weirdos comparable to those brainless The Boys fans. There is, however, a subgroup of each that is actually capable of critical thought, and I invite you to join us as we appreciate the story behind the violence. Firstly, let’s agree on the proper timeline:

The First Purge 10/10

The Purge 7/10

The Purge: Anarchy 9/10

The Purge: Election Year* 8/10 (the timing was what was most important about this release if not for actual worldly events the timeline may have flown better)

The Forever Purge 6/10

The Purge is unique not because no one else could have ever possibly thought about, but because someone was brave enough to simply do it. No source material to pull from, no visible demand for its relation, just art. The purge debuted at a time in our country where we were being more and more divisive. I like to think The Purge explores a very probable reality for the United States. It is important to note Michael Bay was involved with the Purge franchise and that man does not pick duds. In the first Purge movie released, starring, Ethan Hawke, DeMonaco did what had to be done in order to encapsulate audiences moving forward. In order for someone to be capable of writing The Purge, you must also assume they are a great observer of people, what they care about, and how they operate. I think this is demonstrated perfectly in the order in which he wrote this franchise and also who he chose to center stories around. In the first movie we follow an upper middle class white family. People who typically should not be effected by this gruesome holiday. A husband whose income relies on the continuation of this dreary day and a family that remains grateful. It was only fitting Mr. Hawke had to meet his end by the conclusion of the film, after all his family was only targeted because of his occupation. Although, I found them painfully boring they were the perfect family to draw in the majority of the world, which hates watching white people die. It was with them DeMonaco taught us the rules of this night and began to pull back the curtain on its gruesome nature. He also showed us above all else, people can be good.

Personally, The First Purge, when DeMonaco teamed up with director Gerard McMurray, will always be my favorite of the franchise. McMurray is also responsible for Burning Sands, a beautifully shot heart wrenching story about the dangers of hazing. he is moving forward to direct The Resonant, a post apocalyptic comic book series, that he will certainly execute perfectly. McMurray has this way of telling stories through his lens that makes it impossible for you to look away. I also adore that DeMonaco is only ever willing to hand over his babies to hands more capable than his depending the story he wishes to tell. While DeMonaco may very well be Italian or something, the man is white. So, the choice to pick a Howard educated director with an affinity for telling stories of oppression for this film was not lost on me. Do not tell me about his skeletons, DeMonaco is invited to my cookout. The first purge is the tale of how the purge came to be and also the reveal of why it was really created. For me, everything about this film was perfect. The cast, the cinematography, the plot line, and the survivors. This film felt the most real and accurate of all the others (excluding the series). I would actually watch an anthology series depicting the first purge in each city.

The others are pretty repetitive, same idea different layout, the public fighting the rich. The rich starting to lose. Some rich people being kinda okay. The usual. I will say though I felt so bad about being attracted to the Cowboy Casanova initially until this past year when he also played our Black Panther villain, then I gave myself a pass, because I obviously just have impeccable taste.

Anyway sorry for the long break I have been really sick, so even this is some shit, but go watch the purge series its very underrated and tell James DeMonaco you love him.

[randomgurustuffs]

1. Are you young at heart, or an old soul?

I've been told I'm both an old soul and also that I really don't act my age.  I tell people it and they're always shocked.

2. What makes someone a best friend?

This is actually a hard one.  I'd say it's the person you most want to hang around all the time, that you're always excited to see.  

3. What Christmas (or Hanukkah) present do you remember the most?

Technically my drawing tablet was a Christmas present. Sure I picked it out and everything, but I've gotten a lot of miles out of it.  I do really remember the hotwheels firestation I got once, though.  And the pajamas, but those were every year, so do they count?

4. Tell me about a movie/song/tv show/play/book that has changed your life.

The Bible.  I'm a Christian and I read it daily.  Need I say more?

5. Name one physical feature that you like about yourself, and one you dislike.

I quite like my bushy eyebrows.  Not the biggest fan of the little wart thing on my left hand.

6. Would you like to reconnect with any friends you’ve lost contact with?

I certainly wouldn't mind.  I enjoy catching up with folks.

7. What’s more important in a relationship: physical attraction or emotional connection?

Emotional connection.  Physical attraction is the cherry on top and certainly helps, though!

8. Name a movie that you knew would be terrible just from reading the title.

[Insert any horror movie sequel here]

9. What holiday do you most look forward to?

At present, Christmas.  I get to be together with my family for an extended period, especially specific family.

10. How is the relationship between you and your parents?

It's very good.  We think in very similar ways and have similar humor.

11. You’ve got the TV on, but you’re not really watching. What channel is the TV on?

I don't watch all that much TV these days, so this is actually hard.  Hallmark?

12. Name a song that never fails to make you happy.

"So Do I"  Kenny Ball...but there are SO MANY OTHERS

13. You know at least one person named Michael. Tell me about him.

He's cool.  Likes board games.

14. Have you ever read the “missed connections” on Craigslist? Have you ever posted one, or wanted to?

Nope. Nope. And Nope.

15. If you could pick anywhere to live the rest of your life, where would it be?

Not Utah.

16. Can money buy happiness?

Nope.

17. Do you drink? Smoke? Do drugs? Why, or why not?

Nope to all 3.  Expensive habits that are bad for you in varying degrees, plus I HATE the feeling of being buzzed-I don't like brain fog at all.  

18. Is there anyone close to you that you know you can’t trust? You don’t have to give names.

Do you mean geographically close?  I don't tend to let people emotionally close if I don't trust them.

19. Where was your favorite place to go when you were a little kid?

Grandma and Grandpa's farm-especially if kittens were present.

20. Have you ever spent a night in the hospital?

I don't believe I have-maybe when I was born?

21. Do you enjoy being with only one or two friends, or with a large group of people?

Smaller groups are more fun.

22. Do you like the type of music your parents listen to? Do your parents like the type of music you listen to?

Yes to both for the most part.

23. Have you ever been bullied? Have you ever bullied anyone else?

In early grade school, yes.  I don't believe so on bullying others.

24. If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?

There are a few types of food that have near infinite variability-sandwiches and soups/stews come to mind.

25. If your partner wanted to wait until marriage before having sex, would you stay in that relationship?

Yes-plus we both do.  *points at being a Christian*

26. Do you believe in a god?

*points at being a Christian*

27. Of all the social networks in the world, why use Tumblr?

Because this is where the cool people are that enjoy my art for some reason.

28. What’s your favorite Tumblr tag to track?

I don't track tags.

29. Would you call yourself/your family “middle class?”

Yes.

30. Name a TV series you didn’t enjoy until after it ended.

Legend of the Galactic Heroes plus most other shows I've watched.

31. Have you ever bought a product from an infomercial?

Once-but that was because it was the only thing that actually met a need I had

32. If you could give up your car and never have to drive again, would you?

Only if there was a good public transit system and high quality passenger rail network-so never in the US.

33. If you go back to one point in time to give advice to yourself, when would you go and what would you say?

Stay the course but don't be as lazy.

34. What’s your “quirkiest” habit?

Not wearing a coat most of the time, I suppose.

35. What is “normal?” Are you normal?

Normal is relative.  Depends on the overall composition of a given group.

36. Someone close to you is dying. You have the choice to let this person live for 10 more years, but if you do, you cause the death of 10 strangers. You don’t have to see them die. Do you take the offer?

Nope.

37. What is one thing you could never forgive?

I am unsure. I'd like to say there aren't things I couldn't, but there is a difference between forgiving someone for something and not being cautious around them.  Forgive is one thing, but forget is another, much harder one.  Example: someone steals money.  I can forgive them for it, but I'm not going to as readily trust them with money until I see signs they actually won't necessarily do it again.

38. Would you rather be in a relationship after the honeymoon period ends, or be single?

I'm going to stick around.

39. Is it possible for guys and girls to be just friends? Absolutely.  Why wouldn’t it be?

40. Where do you and your friends go to hang out?

Wherever is convenient for all of us-a park or event.

41. Write the first paragraph of your obituary.

[paragraph redacted due to personal information]

42. What is the best TV theme song ever.

There are so many, how can I chose?  I suppose one of the catchiest would be the old 50's Mickey Mouse Club theme.  

43. When you were young, what would you dream you would be when you grew up?

I wanted to be a fighter pilot for a while.

44. When you’re alone in your own home, do you walk around naked?

Generally no.

45. What gets you out of bed in the morning?

My alarm clock-plus I have things that need doin'.

46. Do you want to have more friends than you have right now?

Certainly.

47. What part of the past year sticks out in your mind?

March 21st on.

48. You win a scratch-off lottery game that gives you $2000 a week (after taxes) for the rest of your life. Do you keep your job?

Yup.  I go stir crazy if I don't have things to do-plus I have a number of clients that respect me.

49. Could you be in a long-distance relationship? If you’re in one, what makes yours work?

Yes, in one.  Mutual trust and lots of communication.  Won't be long distance for too much longer, relatively speaking.

50. What’s the best route to your heart?

My arteries.

51. Have you ever met someone through the internet, then met them in real life?

Many times.

52. What is your favorite sport?

I quite like football/soccer.  Used to play in highschool.

53. What has been troubling you lately?

Things I need to get done...like this list!

54. Did you enjoy your high school prom? If you haven’t gotten there yet, do you look forward to it? If you didn’t go, why not?

Didn't have one.  We just had a formal dinner, which is better because good food.

55. What do you use more often: your intuition or logical reasoning?

I'd like to say Logical Reasoning.  I dressed up a Spock at one point as a kid.

56. Do you know what makes you happy?

Yes.  Someone else knows too why I grin so much these days.

57. Tell me about the last book you read.

If we're talking completed, it was the Bible-but excluding the Bible a book about it.

58. What is the nicest compliment you’ve ever been given?

Someone told me recently they felt I'd be a good spiritual leader for a family.

59. Who was your first crush?

There was this gal in grade and highschool.  I'm glad I didn't end up with her in hindsight.

60. Do you believe that there is life on other planets?

I suppose it's possible-there definitely will be once we put someone on Mars.

61. Predict what your life will look like a year from now.

I predict I'll be happily married.

62. Often, people will ask how your last relationship ended. I want to know how it began.

There wasn't a last one, so ha!

63. Where is your favorite place to go out and eat?

Burgerville.

64. What is something you want to change about your current situation?

I'd like to be closer geographically to a certain someone.

65. Early bird or night owl?

A bit of an early bird, really.

66. Are there any childhood possessions you still hold on to?

A good number of them.  I'm fairly sentimental.

67. Give me an unpopular opinion you have.

Drivers licenses should require retaking the test every renewal.

68. What was the last song that was stuck in your head?

The Mickey Mouse Club theme because I just looked it up.

69. Where do you live? Be as general or specific as you want.

In a desert near a large body of salt water and locals that are bad drivers.

70. Do you believe in giving kids medals and trophies for participation?

Depends on the context.  Something to say they were a part of something is fine-but it's easy to go overboard.

71. What was the longest car ride you’ve ever taken?

I think the leg of the roadtrip in highschoool between Vicksburg and Charleston.  But that's riding, not driving.

72. Have you ever taken part in a protest?

I haven't, no.

73. Would you ever use an online dating service?

Nope.  

74. What is your ethnic heritage?

A mess of Northern Europe.

75. Describe a person that inspires you.

My late grandfather.  I want to be more like him.

76. If you earn minimum wage doing what you love, would you?

If it meets my financial needs yes-if otherwise, no.

77. Do you believe in luck?

Nope.  Only the Lord's Providence.

78. Describe the last time you were very angry at someone.

Someone I know's 'family' decided to try and throw them out on the street for physical gain.  

79. Do you want to live until you’re 100?

If I'm still me and haven't lost my marbles.

80. Do people change? If so, how do you keep a relationship together when both of you start to change?

People can change, but a big part of being in a relationship is putting in effort to communicate and understand.  It should also have a center-it's not just about what makes you happy.  Too many relationships these days are 100% selfishness.

81. Have you ever risked a friendship by telling someone you liked them?

I haven't, no.  I was blessed enough to have it happen to me though in a way that didn't ruin anything (it was a mutual attraction).

82. Would you rather be alone doing something you enjoy, or doing something you don’t like with your best friends?

I think the fellowship with my best friend outweighs the non-enjoyment of an activity.  That in itself can be enjoyable.

83. Do you practice what you preach?

I do my best to.

84. If you take precautions to stay safe, do you ultimately act more recklessly?

If the precautions are there, how would it be reckless?

85. What do you value more in a significant other: Attractiveness or intelligence?

Given I find intellegence attractive on top of physical attributes...but really I find my significant other being who they are to be the most valuable (even though she is both very attractive AND intelligent).

86. Are you hard-headed?

Very.  It's a family tradition.

87. Have you ever laughed uncontrollably when it was socially inappropriate?

Possibly.

88. When have you felt most alive?

After I was confessed to-it was incredibly relieving and wonderful.

89. Would you prefer to live? A city? The suburbs? The countryside? The mountains?

Edge of a small town in the mountains by the sea.

90. Do you often skip breakfast?

Nope.  I require fuel.

91. How do you know what true love is?

I think it's when two people have set their hearts and life goals on a relationship which is more than just shallow-when they've decided to stay the course through thick and thin for the other person as much or more than for themselves.

92. Would you want to know the exact date and time you were going to die?

Might make planning easier.

93. Where is “home” for you?

Home is where I feel comfortable and with the people I care about.

94. What song best describes your life right now?

Possibly Country Bumpkin by Cal Smith.

95. Do you want to be perfect?

As Christ is perfect, yes.  It is, after all, the end goal.

96. What have you never tried, but would really like to someday? What’s holding you back?

Learning piano.  Time.

97. How do you express your creativity?

Art, singing.

98. Describe your neighborhood.

A complex with nice trees.

99. Name something you only liked because it was popular.

Y'know I don't remember-I've always been contrary.

100. Give me the story of your life in six words.

A long learning process paying off.

[witchlyboo]

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

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[slasherboyos]

Different World | Chapter Nine

Word count: 3300+ (adsgf there is a reason for why I split chapter eight)

Date posted: August 6, 2021

Warning: Cursing

“Different World” masterlist: Link

Fanfic Playlist: Link

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Note: A nice chapter, but an important one! Also, there is some dialogue that seems incorrect, but it’s like that for a reason; just giving a heads up just in case! As always, feedback is appreciated!

Marko’s boots stomped down the dirt steps that led into the hotel. The plastic utensils in the Coca-Cola box of Chinese takeout were heard clashing with each other when he jumped down that final ledge.

“Feeding time,” He loudly called, announcing his return with dinner. “Come and get it!” You grumbled as you sat up; you were this close to falling asleep during this small pocket of calm, but, of course, proper sleep continued to elude you. That Walkman you have been thinking about buying was starting to become all the more enticing. In your tired state, you stayed put at the far left side of the couch as Marko distributed the food with a pair of chopsticks in his mouth. Dwayne sat on the other side with Laddie sitting between you two. You put your elbow on the armrest, resting your chin on your palm.

“Tired of me already,” Paul jested, gesturing to the empty spot beside him where you usually sat during meal times. You rolled your eyes and lazily stuck your middle finger at him with the same hand that held your head. David placed himself in his shirt-covered wheelchair. 

“I’m not getting up,” you flippantly grumbled, leaning in further into the armrest. Your strained eyes watered as you yawned. 

“Your grace, the finest of meals,” Marko chirped. You gave Marko a sleepy amused look at his exaggerated bow and horrible attempt at a posh British accent as he handed you a carton with a pair of chopsticks. You propped yourself up and leaned comfortably against the backrest, bringing your legs up to lay on their sides. You opened the flaps, stomach tightened from hunger, mildly excited to see what he brought you. He, indeed, did know what you liked. You offered some to Star, which she declined as per usual, before you dug in, starved without the help of your usual early-evening snack.

David offered some food, a carton of rice, to Michael, which was refused at first. However, through the power of peer pressure, Michael accepted the carton and a clear, plastic fork. While you may not have approved David’s methods, you were glad to see Michael eating something. You chewed your food and swallowed it. You closed your eyes in complete bliss, finally being able to get your food intake for the night. There was a chance that Laddie may not finish all of his food, so you silently plotted to take it when he was full. It would be a pity for that delicious takeout to go to waste, after all. Plus, it would help decrease the amount of food waste amongst you. 

“How are those maggots,” David asked quickly and nonchalantly, which had a very casual tone compared to the substance of his question. The boys laughed and you groaned. You leaned back against the backrest, watching, knowing the direction that this was taking. Of course, they were not going to let Michael enjoy his first meal with them without a little bit of hazing. 

“What,” Michael inquired, not comprehending the bizarre statement he heard. 

“Maggots, Michael. You’re eating maggots. How do they taste?” Paul had no shame in continuing to chuckle. You hid your growing smile behind your hand. Given the countless times that David had pulled this trick on you, it was strange seeing him do it to someone else. 

Michael gave David an incredulous smile before looking down to come face to face with a carton of what you could assume were squirming maggots in his eyes. Almost immediately, Michael dropped the carton and spit out the rice in his mouth and the cave erupted in howling laughter. Even David was almost doubling over with how hard he was laughing. You, much to your shame, also quietly chuckled, trying to stay quiet as if you were not finding this a little entertaining. He was so unsuspecting unlike you. While you knew from the start that they were vampires—though, you did not realize their mind-based abilities at first—Michael was oblivious, so he did not catch on as quickly as you did. Well, he did not catch on at all.

Star did not find this heckling as enjoyable. 

“Leave him alone,” she begged, unhappy with the boys’ treatment of Michael, not that anyone listened to what she had to say. Michael realized that the rice was not a pile of maggots, but just plain old white rice. He looked up before looking back down at the mess, really trying to process that it was just rice. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” David gave an empty apology and you rolled your eyes. “No hard feelings, huh?” Michael swallowed his pride and answered,

“No.” Wow, this guy really wants to get on David’s good side. Michael was, at least, tame enough to take it in stride, unlike you. While his initial reaction was worse than yours, at least he did not immediately yell out profanities. David stuck his chopsticks in his noodles. 

“Why don’t you try some noodles?” The boys started laughing again. You waited patiently to see what trick David was pulling out of his sleeve. 

“They’re worms,” Michael deadpanned and you exhaled. They had an obsession with squirmy bugs, it seemed. 

“What do you mean they’re worms?” David dug through the carton, playing dumb to Michael’s concerns. 

“You’re still doing this,” you uttered. You sighed, “the joke’s over, guys!” Michael tried to warn him to not eat the so-called worms, but David used the chopsticks to shove more noodles in his mouth. He chewed on them obnoxiously before grinning, content with how he got under Michael’s skin.

“They’re only noodles, Michael.” Michael snatched the carton and looked through it, only to find just noodles. He must have thought he was losing his mind! To your surprise, he did not ask any questions and took it all at face value. You were a little worried about how easily he was absorbing this. 

“You’re an ass, David.” He ignored your insult, which was probably in your best interest. 

“Nice worms,” Dwayne mocked amongst the snickering. You reached over Laddie and swatted Dwayne’s chest with the back of your right hand, which he hissed at, though he was not in any pain from your back-handed attack. “(Y/N) is being mean again,” he tattled on you to nobody in particular. You raised your hands, physically expressing your annoyance.

“Are you tattling on—what are you, a child?”

“That’s enough,” Star asserted, which Paul responded to with, 

“Aw, chill out, girl,” While Star had not liked this from the start, you were drawing the line here. While the prank was harmless, they did not need to be ridiculing Michael this much. 

And you were not a fan of Paul brushing Star off like that.

You picked a small pebble and aimed for him, landing on his neck. “Hey,” he whined, but you could not care less about it.

“You’re all a bunch of asswipes!” You complained, swallowing what you had been chewing. “I am so sorry, Michael.” Michael appreciated your apology, though he was still embarrassed and very confused by what just happened. “They did the same thing to me, you know. Made me think I was eating caterpillars instead of french fries. And then Paul ate the fries that I dropped.” You threw your head back to get more food in your mouth as Paul chuckled, still clearly proud of himself for getting that reaction out of you when he had picked up the soiled french fry and popped it in his mouth. “They still pull shit like this with me all the time.” 

Your gaze had drifted to Paul, who had his hand in the carton. Your warm smile—which appeared from reminiscing—dropped and your expression morphed into a disgusted one. You knew for sure that he did not wash his hands before deciding to use one as an eating utensil. With a disappointed sigh, you pinched between your eyebrows, exasperated, and expressed,

“Are you kidding—are you eating Chinese takeout with your bare hands?” He put the carton to his mouth as if he was drinking out of a cup.

“Why am I in trouble?” He spoke with a mouth full of fried rice and gestured to Dwayne, who was sitting beside you. Dwayne, now the one being put on the spot, froze, caught red-handed with his hand in his carton, and picked up some noodles. You scrunched up your nose and furrowed your brow. How you did not notice that happening right beside you was a mystery.

“Really? I expected this from Paul—”

“This is bullying!”

“—but not you!” As if to spite you, Dwayne picked up some of his noodles and shoved it into his mouth with a cheeky smile. “Marko is using a pair of chopsticks! Marko! And he’s...” You vaguely gestured to him. “Marko!”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Marko yapped. You pointed at him accusingly. 

“You know exactly what that means.” You were alluding to how much of an instinctual person he was. You were surprised with how he did not immediately stick his hand in his food without taking off his gloves when he opened his carton. “Michael, you know what he did the first night I was here?” Michael shook his head, almost smiling at the sight of you putting them in their place. “He threw a pigeon at me. A pigeon!” Everyone, including you, laughed at the fond memory, Marko being the loudest as he caught himself by putting a hand on his knee. When David calmed down, recalling the shocked expression you had when the bird was tossed at the back of your skull, he gave you a seemingly genuine smile. Seemingly.

You intentionally tried to make him feel more comfortable with your story of the pigeon attack. There was a part of you that did not like how he was to become a vampire against his will. While you could not do anything to change that, you could at least be a friend and hold out an olive branch.

Besides Star, Michael noticed how you were showing legitimate consideration towards him while the boys were messing with him with no restraints. You, while taking part in all of this heckling, had the decency to apologize and had your limits. He was still intimidated by your presence but realized that you may not be as menacing as you may appear. In contrast to your piercing stare, your smile lit up the room and you were a fun person to be around.

Of course, he was unaware as to just how doomed to stay with this group of misfits he was. He may have to deal with this taunting for the rest of eternity.

You picked up another pebble. It hit Marko's left temple and somehow landed in his food.

“Get fucked, pigeon-thrower,” you slandered.

“Ow! Dwayne’s right, you are bein’ a bitch!” 

“Oh, you’ll get over it.” You picked up a third small rock and leaned forward to get a clearer shot. You harshly threw it onto Dwayne's bare chest. 

“What was that for,” he complained, mouth full of noodles. 

“Talkin’ shit about me.” 

“I never called you a bitch!” Okay, maybe it was fun just being a general nuisance towards them, but that was not going to be something you said out loud. To keep things even between them all, you picked up one more for David. As you aimed, he put up a finger to make you pause. 

“Do you really want to do that,” he challenged. Unluckily for him, you found entertainment in doing things out of spite. However, Unluckily for you, he caught the rock with a gloved hand and threw it back at you with force. You laughed with a mild shriek as you tried to shield yourself, but it hit your left shoulder. 

“Ow,” you exclaimed and rubbed the ambushed area of your arm.

“You’ll get over it,” he mocked, repeating what you had said to Marko. 

“You see what I have to deal with, Michael,” you joked. Paul threw the remaining fried rice in his carton at you. “Don’t throw food, dipshit! You'll get it in the cushions!”

“It’s maggots, (Y/N),” Paul teased. You took hold of a small display pillow, one that you have been sleeping with, and threw it at Paul. Too bad you missed. Paul mockingly said, 

“Try again!”

David was lost in thought before he called out to Marko and whispered something in his ear as the excitement died down, the tone of the night changing drastically as silence engulfed the cave. You could decipher what was said. Marko nodded enthusiastically, giving a quick once-over towards everyone, before leaving and coming back with an ornate wine bottle. 

Star became visibly concerned, quickly making her way to Michael’s side. Her reaction was enough for you to mirror that worry. There was no way they were going to turn him tonight, right? Getting Michael drunk to make the process easier hardly seems like the best strategy, if that was what they were doing. Plus, he did not seem like a wine guy.

David, with as much flair as he could muster, popped the cork and drank from the bottle. He opened his eyes, his gaze on Michael intense. He’s dramatic; I’ll give him that. You thought.

“Drink some of this, Michael,” David pressured, offering him the bottle. He quieted and harshly whispered, “be one of us.” You could almost see the ellipses that appeared in Michael's head. You were glad you were not the only one who found the dramatic nature David was talking with anticlimactic. Michael stood from the fountain and gingerly took the bottle from David by the neck. As Dwayne and Paul began to chant Michael’s name, Laddie stood and ran away, granting you another reason to be concerned. Marko joined in. Star moved closer to Michael; you swear that she was just about ready to jump out of her skin with how skittish she was being. 

“Michael,” David called, egging him on. 

“Yeah, sure,” Michael responded before putting it up to his mouth and taking quite a few large gulps of it. The boys cheered with David yelling, “Bravo!” Star took a step back, shielding Laddie with her left hand. You could not understand why she was so nervous, so afraid. It was just a little bit of wine! Are they seriously trying to get him drunk? Maybe you have overestimated the boys’ planning skills.

Or, this was just a part of their initiation. They could be building up to the actual turning, but all you can do for now is speculate. Hopefully, you will remember to ask one of them about it later.

“Your turn, (Y/N).” You swiftly turned your head to face David, not expecting the spotlight to turn to you.

“Me?” Why did they want you to drink from the bottle? It was not as if you were the one who was going to start walking amongst the undead as one of them; Michael was the one who was joining the clique. 

“It's like an initiation,” Paul explained. “Drink it and you're officially one of us, sugar!”

“And don’t think that you’re done, Michael,” David warned as he handed you the bottle. He made brief eye contact with you before returning to look at Michael. “(Y/N) has already gone through it all; you’ve still got to show us that you’ve got what it takes.” Michael took a glimpse at you. 

“What it takes,” Michael pressed.

“To be one of us, Michael.”

“And I have what it takes,” you asked. No one denied the statement. You were not sure what specific qualities they saw in you and what they may have considered a test of your worth, but you apparently fit the bill.

“Why else would we be having such a special dinner, (Y/N),” David stated. You chortled. It was not as if they served you a five-star meal from some fancy restaurant that only takes patrons that are dressed to the nines. Well, it was in such a fancy hotel, though collapsed, so maybe you could let it slide.

“All this is for me,” you entertained his statement. 

“It is if you drink from the bottle,” Marko answered, sitting on the armrest and leaning towards you, giving you a prying look with raised eyebrows. You let out a hefty chuckle before looking down at the bottle in your hand, swishing the liquid in a clockwise motion, feeling the weight of it as it moved. With it in your hand, you got a closer inspection.

Though tacky, it was a beautiful vessel. It was a clear, glass bottle that was covered in gold plating. Over that, red and white gems decorated it. The red drink inside of the bottle was a vibrant red, bright and alluring. It made sense that they would choose such a drink. 

Beginning with Dwayne, the boys chanted, growing louder with each one,

“One of us! One of us! One of us!” An involuntary smile grew on your face. In a way, you guess that you were one of them and a part of their social circle. You had grown to care for them and it warmed your heart that they thought the same of you. 

It was just some wine, right? In a fancy sunken hotel like this, it would make sense to find such a fancy bottle among the rubble. And it made sense that this group of vampires would have some weird initiation rituals.

You brought the bottle to your lips and took a sip; you did not drink as much as Michael did, but just enough to get a small taste. That sample was enough given how the boys cheered as you felt it go down your throat. You did a double-take, not expecting it to taste like that.

It did not taste like wine, but it was nothing like you had ever drank before. It was strong, but it was from something other than the alcohol content. It was sweet with a bit of a spicy kick to it as it went down. You made a face, still trying to decide if you liked it or not.

“What is that?” You brought the opening to your eye before taking another sip. “Wow, that does not taste like wine.” One more time, you brought the bottle to your lips before concluding that you enjoyed the flavor; they chose a good initiation drink. 

You gave the bottle back to David as you licked your lips clean. You sat comfortably with a bashful smile that you tried to hide with the side of your hand. It was as if they were happier with you drinking the wine than they were with Michael drinking it with how they cheered. They clapped to a rhythm and excitedly chanted again,

“One of us! One of us!” You brought your tongue to the roof of your mouth.

"You guys are way too excited for a little bit of wine," you dismissed, a laugh escaping you as you tried to seem unmoved. Paul hopped onto the box he was sitting on and jumped off to the other side. He raised the volume on his stereo, which was playing some rock song you vaguely recognized. 

"Now, we really celebrate," David instructed as Paul jogged back and pulled you up. 

"You're one of us now, (Y/N)," Marko cheered as he patted you hard on the back, stepping in front of you and facing you with a wide smile, which you mirrored when you recovered. He took notice of how your eyes completely softened while you smiled at him. Your expression was so real, so sincere. 

Those high walls of yours had crumbled down to mere dust, allowing them to step in with ease, which was what you were afraid of, but you could not bring yourself to care in the moment. 

You felt a hand gently stroke your upper back and you turned to see Dwayne, who was grinning boyishly down at you. As they left you, you could not deny how good you felt when they chanted your name,

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N)!"

➳ ➳ ➳

Taglist: @lililolli @iloveslasher @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic @bazingadotbizoff @motionlessgirl12 @petrelsrose @takemetotheweirdness @collieflower215 @ch3rrydoll @nataliewalker93 @fuzzyblanketsblog @cranberrypills​ @espurrisfabulous  @dwight-y0u-sunflower-slut

If your tag is crossed out, I was unable to tag you.

[sweeethinny]

Sunlit days

@velvethopewrites asked, and I took longer than I thought it would, but I wrote a Hinny kissing under the cloak.

it's not exactly smut, it's just warm kisses, but anyway, i hope you like it <3

AO3

-----

"Where are you taking me?" Ginny asked, a huge smile on her face as she let Harry - her boyfriend - guide her to who knows where, the two of them hiding under his cloak, making her even more excited.

The adrenaline of the forbidden always made her much more excited to do something. And if Harry was with her, everything was perfect.

"Can't I want to have a moment alone with you?" He asked, not even seeming to care how he sounded, he also had a huge smile on his face. Harry had seemed so much looser and freer these past few days, and Ginny loved to think it was because of her.

Of course it could be for a million other reasons, but that thought made her go to sleep smiling like an idiot.

"You're going to be late for class." They were in a hallway Ginny thought she'd never seen, but Harry seemed to recognize the place with eerie familiarity, only occasionally picking up the Map to make sure everything was empty.

“Are you worried about my grades?” He glanced over his shoulder, smiling in a way that made her blush and smile even more. Her cheeks would crack if she kept this up. 'No need to worry, I can say I was with Dumbledore, or just miss this class, it's History anyway' Harry and she reached the end of the corridor, there was nowhere else to go, there were no doors or anything nearby , and it was quiet enough for them to be comfortable. Nobody would come here.

Harry leaned against the wall, pulling Ginny close, legs spread wide enough for her to be comfortable in the middle, and she didn’t wait for him to say anything and kissed him like it had been days since they'd seen each other. And that was how she felt, at least in parts. Snape didn't take a break, and every night Harry looked tired or she was tired, and they just sat together in the common room for a few minutes before going to sleep. Hermione also didn't let her forget about the exams, just as Demelza seemed to make a point of reminding her whenever she and Harry started to get too distracted in some empty hallway in the library.

"I missed you," she said, grabbing his face and attacking his lips again, almost melting at the feel of his hands on her hips, keeping her where he wanted her, and for once Ginny didn't care.

Michael and she weren't all that evolved to exchange more than quick kisses, and as much as Dean sometimes did like Harry too - his hands on her hips - it never felt comfortable enough or hot, it was always weird, like they didn't fit right. But not with Harry, with him it was nice, comfortable, and she loved when he did that.

“Thought I saw you for breakfast?” He bit her lip, then began that trail of kisses that made her feel hot and forced her to clench her thighs together. His soft mouth moved down her chin, then under her ear, over her neck, over her collarbone… Ginny gasped.

She tightened her hands on his shoulders, just because she needed some support so her limp legs wouldn't make her fall like jelly. Ginny didn't even remember anymore what she had said and what Harry had replied, all so confused in her cloud of heat that she was almost blind to anything but her amazing boyfriend.

'Aren't you going to take your cloak off?'She managed to ask, starting to feel warm from the lack of air circulation, but it was also a good excuse to let Harry unbutton the top buttons of her shirt, and she did the same with his.

'Let me live my fantasy, I've dreamed of it.' Harry mumbled against her skin, his mouth that had been so close to her breasts began to rise again, and Ginny needed a second to deal with the frustration that she felt, soon being filled with desire as she felt him moving one of his hands up inside her shirt.

"Don't say you dreamed with me if you don't want me to attack you right here," Ginny said, her hands inside his shirt, scratching at his abdomen only to feel him shiver and take a deep breath down her neck.

"I'm not telling you not to do this, feel free." He bit into the sensitive skin that made Ginny whimper and try to pull her body away more by instinct than will, that heat building between her legs.

Harry made her land in the clouds, much lighter than when she flew as high as she could, while making her feel that delicious drop that left her heart pounding and her legs limp. He made her feel so many things that Ginny wondered how she had lived so long without knowing she was capable of feeling it.

Like when he saves her a piece of cake for breakfast, or a piece of meat pie for dinner, just because he knows Ginny likes it, and it makes her stomach churn and her throat feel tender as if suddenly, she was going to cry with joy, because she never got to tell him that, Harry just realized, and Ginny comes from a family with too many siblings for someone to notice little details about her.

“As much as I like the cloak idea,” she says, kissing him as if her life depended on it, his thigh between her legs and his left hand cupping her breast. “I'm getting too hot to be pleasant.” Ginny moves her hips just enough to gain that necessary friction that makes her go limp again.

Harry laughs, seeming to notice that she has started to sweat and now for other reasons, so he takes the cloak off them, and the icy wind hits Ginny at once and makes her shiver and lean closer to Harry, like a way to protect herself from the temperature difference. The movement made her feel him on her thigh, and Harry seemed to feel the simple touch as well, because he gasped and pulled his mouth away from hers.

They shouldn't be making out like that in a hallway, now that she was ready to assess the situation. Before at least they were invisible, and now anyone can see Harry groping her breasts and Ginny using his thigh for self-relief. She should feel embarrassed, or at least worry and tell them to find a room, or stop it before someone misses them both and puts the puzzle together to understand why they're gone. Ginny knows that people love to talk about Harry's life, and her love life, and that everyone thinks it's absurd that she dated two boys, so being seen in a hallway like that isn't the best option for her.

But Harry squeezes her hip with his free hand and pulls her forward again, and they're so close to each other, and his hand is warm and soft, and he managed to get his hand inside her bra, and the feeling of having Harry touching her nipples is otherworldly, and the feeling of his thigh creating friction where she needs it most feels so good, and the noises he makes… Ginny can't really think.

The sun is streaming in through a nearby window, and soon that sudden cold is gone and Ginny feels warm again, and she is on a mission to kiss Harry with all the will she has inside, and he seems to be on the same mission that she..

He even makes her forget all the reasons that should keep her from doing what she's doing now, and forget that the last time she made out with a boy in a hallway her brother caught them.

Harry took her to a dimension that is theirs alone and no one can touch or interrupt them, and Ginny thinks that even if she came to her senses now and walked away from him, she wouldn't be able to think for a few more hours, numb at how good it felt the combination of everything he was doing.

For a few seconds she even thought about taking his hand off her hip and putting it between her legs, just because Ginny wants to know what it would be like to have his fingers there, and because she's dreamed about it enough times now and her imagination is no longer enough and neither are her fingers themselves. She's very close to realizing this fantasy, she even puts her hand on top of his, but they hear voices and footsteps and Ginny jumps back in alarm, feeling her heart racing and her bleary eyes barely focusing on Harry's face.

He has rosy cheeks, crooked glasses and her lipstick is smeared across his face, it's a lovely sight indeed, but by the time the voices fade away and the hallway is silent again, Ginny still keeps a little distance, looking at him and taking a deep breath, trying to get back to Earth, as much as the paradise he takes her to is much, much, more inviting.

"Wow," Harry is the first to say, seeming to notice the mess she is in, shirt unbuttoned to her navel, bra bared, skirt crooked and cheeks on fire.

"Yeah." Ginny blinks, still dizzy. Harry isn't all that different from her, and maybe she should apply some less red lipstick next time because Harry looks like a clown with his mouth all smeared like that. She doesn't usually wear lipstick, but she wanted to impress Harry, and he seemed to have liked the choice when he found her coming out of the bathroom.

'Do you think we still have some time before they realize we're gone?'She asks, straightening her shirt and skirt, trying to draw Harry's attention away, as Ginny feels a bit suffocated the more she looks into his green eyes, the more dark now and with that mischievous glow she loves knowing it's her fault.

'I'm sure so,' Harry starts to adjust himself as well, and when the two of them look presentable again - although his lips are still a little smudged - Ginny reaches for him and pulls him close, and starts doing the way back, however much she has nowhere in mind.

'I need some fresh air,' she says, feeling her skin heat up even more, not because she feels embarrassed but because the memory makes her feel cloudy again, and Ginny doesn't want any girl to realize she's like this for something that did with Harry, she doesn't want them to imagine what he is like at these times. It's something so silly and irrational, but it lives in the back of her mind.

“You will be my cause of death, I'm serious.” He mutters, his cheeks also rosy, seeming to be far away.

“Me?” Ginny uses her best voice, wanting to make him laugh and deny it – and she succeeds.

'Yes you.' Harry puts his arm around her waist keeping her close to him, and the two head towards the gardens, there aren't many students around at least, and they don't need to walk to the farthest part to be able to stay in peace together. Harry lies down on her legs, Ginny leaning against a tree, the fresh air soothes the heat off her skin and makes her think rationally.

She smiles at him. "Should I be sad about it?"

"No." Harry smiles, that carefree smile that makes her feel so good knowing he's happy.

''Great, because you're going to be my cause.'' She closes her eyes, laying her head back and listening to him laugh. Ginny thinks she has never been happier.

[saturnsummer]

the fairytale she never had (will you believe again?)

when sol is invited to a wedding, sol doesn’t think her best friend would follow her. 

aka: solhwi attending a wedding

notes: it just struck me one day, and i really wanted them to see each other outside of the law school moments! while law school defines them, they are certainly people with social activities.

 i adapted this from a similar prompt i saw from a fic many years ago for a separate fandom, and i always wanted to write something similar. this was honestly not met to be multi-part, but i write too much anyways. so multi-part it will be.

 also, it might sound depressing in the initial part where sol is talking about the wedding invitation, but it gets explained later on. 

as always, enjoy! any grammar mistakes and all will be taken fully responsible by me!

ao3 link

words: 4135 words

I: 我愿变成童话里, 你爱的那个天使 (i am willing to be the angel of that fairytale you love)

--title inspired by fairytale (童话) by Michael Wong!--

Sol absolutely hates weddings. 

She hated the big social crowds, the way drunk men in tuxedos staggered around with women in one arm and a drink in another. She found no purpose in dressing in lavish gowns, then eating dinner for the next two hours without even feeling full. 

Sol couldn’t blame anyone but herself for this. She can’t help but remember her mother’s failed marriages. The way her biological father left them in the middle of the night, with all their hard earned savings. The way her stepfather, Byeol’s father, would come home drunk and violent towards her mother. It was a memory she couldn’t erase. More than a decade later, she still wakes up in a cold sweat, worrying for her mother and small Byeol’s life. 

She long ago gave up on the concept of love back then. She wasn’t opposed to anyone dating or talking about it, and she certainly didn’t mind short flings. But marriage? Eternal love? The fairytale that everyone hopes to achieve? Sol threw those ideas out of the window. 

So when Sol received a thick, cream-coloured card and envelope, embossed with rose gold foil and flowers, a pretty silver wax seal and her name written in careful strokes of a calligraphy brush, she was stumped. 

Her friend, Im Jiyoon, was getting married. Jiyoon was a good friend of Sol’s, and they occasionally met up for quick meals. Jiyoon was an accountant and climbing the ranks in her company. They lost contact for a period when Sol was in juvie, but they reconnected when Sol was just starting law school. It was only polite that Jiyoon extended invitations to her high school classmate. 

Sol had mixed feelings. The wedding was on a Friday night, which made things good since she didn’t have to wake up early, fitting her schedule properly. But she had nothing to wear. She could borrow a dress and shoes from Yeseul, but the last time she borrowed a shoe from Yeseul, she almost broke her ankle. And she had so much work to catch up on. Yet, not showing up felt rude of her. 

Jiyoon was nice, don’t get her wrong. She was smart, resourceful and lovely to be with in high school. Sol wanted nothing more than for her high school friend to marry the love of her life. But she hasn't been to such social events in years, and being so focussed on school, the legal clinic and contributing to her family, she found it difficult to understand why she needed to go, besides doing it out of courtesy. 

“What’s that?” A familiar voice pipes from behind, drawing her out of her thoughts. There’s the familiar shuffling of several pairs of feet as Sol turns her attention to the one who spoke. Behind her, was Han Joon Hwi with his bag just being set on the table. The rest of the group was just settling in for another study session.

“Ah, nothing important.” She monotonously says before sliding the card in her files. Joon Hwi’s hands catch the card before she can slide it fully and stop her from hiding it from him, or the rest of the group. The rest draw their attention to the expensive card and Sol only stays silent. 

“A wedding? Your friend’s?” Yeseul asks as she picks the card up with perfectly manicured fingers. Turning and feeling the thick paper between her fingers, Yeseul knew it was no cheap manufactured paper. This was expensive, premium, and each card looked handmade from the brush calligraphy. 

“Yeah. But I don’t think I’m going.” Sol says as Yeseul returns her the card and successfully stores it away in her bag. 

“Why not? Don’t you want to be there?” Joon Hwi asks, cocking his head to the side in utter confusion.

“There isn’t much point, is there? I have school and the legal clinic and things to revise for. And besides, I don't have anything to attend in. I just rather send her a gift and treat her a meal.” Sol simply explains. Everyone bombards her with more questions, but she diverts their attention to her paper and the cases they are reviewing today.

Joon Hwi, however, couldn’t get Sol’s reasoning out of his head. He knew Sol well enough to know how much she values her friends, and that she would be willing to drop everything for a friend. Her loyalty was unmatched. It didn’t make sense that she would be held back by her vanity or school work that caused her to not attend such a joyous occasion. 

When everyone is done reviewing the cases and the session ends, Sol is the only one who has her books and papers still scattered all over the table. She still has to review her notes and catch up on a few lectures before she can officially end her day. Joon Hwi was long done, but he stayed put, bringing out a past report he’s done and glancing through it, hopeful to catch any mistakes. The others have headed back or gone to the cafeteria for a meal. 

“Han Joon Hwi, you don’t have to stay for me, you know?” Sol says, her eyes not once looking up as she stays concentrated highlighting her book with a fluorescent orange highlight. She sticks it in her hair when she’s done, raising her head to meet Joon Hwi’s eyes. Joon Hwi only smiles, letting his eyes crinkle. 

“Why don’t you want to attend the wedding?” Joon Hwi asks, still smiling. Sol scoffs. 

“I already said. I’m too busy-” Sol is cut off by Joon Hwi with his teasing. 

“You sure? I think it’s about the groom, though.” Joon Hwi smiles brightly, earning an irritated series of clicks of her tongue from Sol, clearly successful in being teased.

“None of that sort! Who do you think I am, Han Joon Hwi?” Sol rebuts back, throwing her eraser across to him in annoyance.

 Joon Hwi catches it with a laugh, but doesn’t lose eye contact with Sol. A few moments of silence follow, as she looks at the file with the card. Slowly, she draws the card from her file, holding it carefully between her fingers. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to be there. I… it’s my first time going to such a social event in such a long time. And the last time I met Jiyoon was a year ago, back in our 1L.” She says softly, letting her fingers brush her calligraphed name.

“I just… rather not go, you know? Treat her to a nice meal somewhere, maybe a couple drinks. Besides, I’m sure she’s just doing it out of courtesy.” She lets out a light laugh. 

Joon Hwi’s heart softens. He’s witnessed Sol in her different elements. The courtroom, where she’s a powerful woman in command, dressed professionally in a suit and hair in a perfect ponytail. The day-to-day her, where she’s comfortably dressed in jeans and her tanned coat, hair in a bun and post it notes on her jacket. She was always so bold, so confident and so full of fire. It never occurred to him that she would be uncomfortable in social events. She was always the life during dinners, with Bokgi. She laughed loudly, engaged in conversations and seemed so comfortable. He remembers how she would help out the old halmeonis with her neighbourhood on some days when he sent her home, or the times she bought ice creams for Byeol’s classmates. She seemed so extroverted, yet so closed off. Eying her, Joon Hwi reaches out and clasps his hand over hers in an attempt to comfort. 

“I never went to school events, you know? Especially since juvie made me miss it. When I redid my high school year, I didn’t go too. There wasn’t much of a point, since I didn’t have a date or many friends to begin with. If it was Dan, she would have gone, being the popular girl she was back then.” Sol softly says, a small smile ghosting her face.

She remembers the day prom arrived for her school. She was expectant, hoping that the boy she liked would invite her. Or maybe the girls that she occasionally had lunch with will invite her to hang out. But all she got was a stone cold silence the weeks leading up to prom. When everyone buzzed on what they were wearing to prom night, she silently put on her headphones, drilling herself into her science assignments. Of course, she wouldn’t be invited.

She knew the rumours floating in school. How Dan was the perfect one, how she was the failed one. She knew everyone knew she went to juvie. She knows how the boys snicker at her when she walks past them, or how the girls gossip and whisper when she’s eating her lunch. Besides, it didn't help that she was poor. She can’t even afford a dress of her own, let alone go to the event.

Realising what she’s said, Sol quickly draws her hand away along with the card and slots it away in her file. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to blabber on. You must think it’s stupid, I think so too. Anyways, do you have the notes Professor Kim...” Sol quickly apologises and diverts her attention to her notes. But Joon Hwi was no longer listening. He was shattered by how the woman sitting in front of him has never been treated like how she should be treated. It was no secret to Joon Hwi that he cared for his friends, but cared a little more for Sol. He was the one that left post-it notes on her table and pretended he didn't. She was the only one that he would let steal a mouth or two from his ramyeon. He could read her moods just from her eyes. He wonders sometimes, if he sees her more than a friend. 

He won’t hide that she’s beautiful. The way her eyes slant in an elegant fashion, her smooth, slightly tanned skin, and her winning smile that he always found his heart beating faster for. He loves the way she smiles at her extra pickles, the way her eyes light up when she sees Byeol, or the way she argues and practices. The tenacity and desire she has to improve inspires him to work as hard as her. 

This is why when Sol spilled the beans, he couldn't help but feel all sorts of emotions. Anger, towards the people in her school, for not realising such a wonderful student. Anger towards her for degrading herself. Sadness, for her not being able to experience such events. 

As Joon Hwi ended the session with her and returned to his room, he made a promise to Sol. He’s convinced it will work, and he begins planning in his head. 

He will show her the fairytale. 

-----

A week passed. 

Sol had to give a reply in a few days and she has not figured out what to say. The wedding was in a month. She knew Jiyoon would be busy... Sol figures that she should just treat Jiyoon after her honeymoon, knowing how she would be away with her husband as newlyweds later on. 

“Still thinking about the wedding?” Joon Hwi nods at her, her head in her hands. Sol, looking defeated, nods. So much for trying to hide. They were at their pantry area of their dorms, Sol stirring her ramyeon, as Joon Hwi slurps his. It was 3am, and they just finished studying. The next day was a weekend, so it didn’t really matter if they slept late, since they got the privilege of sleeping in.

“What do I tell Jiyoon? I don’t want to sound rude.” Sol mumbles, lazily stirring her soggy noodles.

“Go to the wedding.” Joon Hwi says suddenly, continuously slurping. 

“What?!”

“Sol, how many weddings can you even go to in your life? Are you sure you want to miss this one? Besides, you said you haven’t been to social events. Don’t you want to experience it?” Joon Hwi says, adrenaline building in his voice. 

Sol falls silent. She can’t deny that she wants to experience the feeling of being dolled up, the fun that everyone talks about, and the enjoyment that everyone goes through. And Joon Hwi is right; she wants to celebrate with Jiyoon. But her fear of social events and the past was holding her back. 

Joon Hwi could tell the change in her eyes. He gives a sweet smile, knowing that he said enough to change her mind. 

“Joon Hwi, but what if she doesn’t even-” Sol begins doubting herself as she shoots off her doubts and worries. Joon Hwi calms her down with logical reasons, calming her nerves in between his mouths of ramyeon. 

“But... I’ll be alone there, right?” Sol asks, her voice so soft, Joon Hwi barely picks it up. Her ramyeon is still untouched, and the noodles have gotten soggy and cold. Sol is silent for a moment, as she realises how right she is, for once. It wasn’t like she could ask a date, she doesn’t even have one. And her friends from the study group were out of the question. They don’t even know Jiyoon. Joon Hwi quickly brings up his bowl to his face, hopefully covering it as he feels the heat rising to his face.

“I’ll be your plus-one.”

Sol’s eyes light up and her head rises. Did she hear that right? Han Joon Hwi, her plus-one? 

“Oh, no! No, I didn’t mean it like that! Joon Hwi, no, I can’t-” Sol can’t find the right words to say. He can't? He shouldn’t? He doesn't need to? Sol can’t deduce her own reasonings for this argument. She knows her roommate likes him, and she definitely doesn’t want to be the target of her roommate’s stares if she catches wind of this. Besides, Joon Hwi doesn’t like her. She knows, and she doesn’t want him to get any wrong ideas. He’s her best friend, and confidante. She knows, deep down, his heart is someone else's. 

“I want to.” 

Sol freezes as Joon Hwi finishes drinking his soup. Placing the bowl down, he does as best as he can to lock eyes with Sol seriously, showing her he wasn’t teasing. No, this was out of his sincere heart. He knows how nervous she gets in a new environment, and him being next to her was bound to calm her nerves just a little more.

Sol could see the genuine care and want in his eyes. She knows this isn’t one of his jokes or teases. For a split second, she catches herself thinking if he meant something more. That going as a date, was more than just keeping her company, but for something to develop… 

Her face is flushed red as she looks at her puffed noodles and lukewarm soup. She picks her chopsticks up but is stopped by Joon Hwi’s hand as he shifts the bowl toward him, away from her. 

“Get yourself a fresh one. This is the first meal all day, isn’t it?” Joon Hwi calls her out, covering her noodles. Sol wants to argue for her soggy noodles, but she falls silent knowing how he revealed her secret. She hasn’t eaten all day after running reports and studying. Grumbling, she does as instructed and boils another bowl of ramyeon. When she’s back at the table with a fresh, hot, spicy and red bowl, she dives into it, wondering how she managed to survive the whole day. 

Joon Hwi only gives a small smile looking at the girl slurping her noodles with delight and looking at her. Joon Hwi wasn’t lying. He did want to be her plus-one for the wedding. He knew that more than just being a comfort for Sol, he wanted to make this one day a day she could look back and smile at. That she could be pretty, relaxed and happy instead of stressing over her grades, exams and family. 

“Fine.” Sol says as she continues slurping the spicy noodles. She blesses the spiciness of the noodles, such that she could blame her pink blush on it. Joon Hwi, clearing the cold noodles and getting water for both of them tilts his head in confusion. 

“Come with me to the wedding, if you want to.” She mutters softly, almost shy to let him know. To hide her blush and hide her confusion, she lifts the still hot bowl to her face. She drinks the soup, but chokes on the spiciness. Joon Hwi lets out a light chuckle before passing her a bottle of cold water. Sol looks at him with narrowed eyes of annoyance, but graciously takes the water. 

As he watches Sol eat her first bowl, then a second, as Joon Hwi munches on some crackers, he only smiles and laughs at whatever Sol was complaining about her reports and her frustrations at her cases that she picked. He lets out comforting words, but is rebutted back with Sol saying he will never get it because he’s smart unlike her. 

As he went to bed that night, he only gave a giddy smile, burying his face in his sheets. He scored his point of taking Sol out on a date, and was already counting down. He officially succeeded in the first step of his plan. 

The rest of it required a little bit of help. But he knew who to ask. 

-----

“Yeseul! What is it that you need to wake me up on a weekend? I was up until 4am last night!” Sol grumbles as she places her phone on speaker, rubbing her eyes. It was 8am, way too early for Sol to process any emergencies. Well, if it was Yeseul, she would do it any time. 

“Sorry, unnie. But it’s urgent. Could you meet me in 10 minutes at the lobby?” Yeseul’s bright voice echos. Sol notices her roomie’s bed made, pillows nicely fluffed and sheets tucked in neatly in pure perfection. She isn’t surprised, considering how she gets up early anyways.

“Fine.” Sol says and hangs up, getting a fresh change of clothes and heading to the bathroom to wash up. She throws on a hoodie, grabbing her only tanned ochre coat and grabs her bag, before jogging downstairs to the lobby. There, Yeseul is standing there, with a sling black bag and with one of the many nude heels she has, hair styled to perfection.

“Unnie!” Yeseul waves her hand over. Walking closer, Sol notices two other familiar friends behind as she scoffs. 

“Joonhwi? Bokgi? What are you doing here?” She asks, her hand playing with the strap of her bag unconsciously. She was surprised to see Joonhwi, but even more Bokgi, who usually spends mornings sleeping in. Joonhwi only gives his usual cheeky smile and drags a drowsy Bokgi with him out towards to the main entrance of the school. Dumbfounded, Yeseul takes this moment to link her arm with Sol’s as she leads her out and catch Sol up to their agenda today. 

“What?! You’re bringing me where?” Sol exclaims, her voice echoing throughout the lobby. Yeseul shushes her as she drags a shocked Sol out of school. Yeseul didn't need the whole school to know where Sol was going. 

“Unnie, please? You need a dress for the wedding, and don’t think you are going to go in one of mine or your old ones! Besides, you promised to go shopping with me one day, right?” Yeseul defends herself as Sol sighs. 

Yeseul wasn’t wrong. The wedding was just a week away and she had absolutely nothing to wear. She owned a couple pairs of flats, but they were so old, it would be embarrassing to attend with those. And her dresses were either too big or too small. She was so caught up with school after submitting her reply to Jiyoon, that she would have forgotten about the wedding if it wasn’t for the post-it on her bedside wall. 

“But...but...” Sol couldn’t find any reasons to counter. She knew Yeseul was right. Besides, it’s a weekend. And they had no upcoming tests or projects, so there was no harm in doing something besides studying in the copy room. She nods, defeated, earning a smile from Yeseul. 

“Wait, then why is Joonhwi and- Who’s car is that?!” Sol’s thoughts are cut off when she sees a familiar black sedan waiting by the entrance as Sol and Yeseul just exit. In the car, she manages to see a Joonhwi in the driver’s seat and Bokgi riding shotgun. 

“Yah! Han Joon Hwi! Isn’t this my roomie’s car?” She shouts as she strides a couple of steps when Joonhwi rolls the window down. 

“She loaned me the car for today. Don’t want you carrying so many things back from shopping today.” He replies curtly. Bokgi opens his passenger side door on the right.

“Bokgi-”

“Noona, sit in front. I’m too tired to watch Joonhwi-hyung drive.” Bokgi mutters before he climbs into the backseat with Yeseul. Sol wordlessly settles into the seat next to Joonhwi, who only looks at her with a smile. Sol catches his odd looks and pauses.

“What?”

“Ready for shopping?” He has his cheeky smile on again. Sol glares in annoyance before turning behind to Yeseul. 

“Did you make him drive?” Yeseul shakes her head and spills out her defensive explanation.

“Oppa called me up yesterday! He just said he needed my help to accompany you shopping for a dress!”

“Then, why is Bokgi here? Trying on dresses too?”

“Noona! I’m listening!” Joonhwi only laughs and shakes his head.

“He’s just accompanying me.” Joonhwi says as he begins to drive off. 

Well, Joonhwi wasn't lying. He waited till their quizzes and projects were over before executing this. He knew Sol was busy, and had waited for the busy season to pass before calling Yeseul. He explained that he knew Sol would not go shop for a dress, and he needs her help to accompany him and her. She willingly, too willingly, agreed. 

Next, he asked Sol B if he could borrow her car, knowing how Sol was not going to go home with just one dress and one pair of shoes when Yeseul was involved. Sol B was skeptical, but just passed the keys over to him. Besides, she was going to be in school studying all day; she didn’t need the car. Bokgi joined in, as Joonhwi couldn’t spend hours on end waiting for the ladies to shop. On further thought, Bokgi just might help him out with something. 

“I could go myself with Yeseul. You didn’t have to wake up for this.” Sol mutters just loud enough for him to hear, fiddling with her fingers. Joonhwi returns with a light scoff.

“As if you’ll do it.” Sol glares at him from the side and is ready to punch him, but retracts her hand, knowing she might literally kill everyone in the car. The ride from the school to the bustling heart of Seoul is a rough twenty minute ride. Bokgi takes this time to catch a wink and Sol does the same, but she can't seem to do it. 

Something about Joonhwi bringing her out to buy a dress specially made her heart flutter a bit more than usual. She knew that Joonhwi cared for her. The ways that he left rolls of gimbaps and energy drinks as opposed to coffee on her table during her tough days. The moments when he would offer his jacket as a pillow wordlessly when she wanted to rest her head after hours of studying. The unspoken synchronisation between them was just a showing of how they understood each other inside and out. 

Sol thought nothing of it. She knew him as long as she stepped into school when he saved her from Professor Yang. They spent almost everyday studying, having classes and eating together. After all, they are best friends, and don’t best friends do this? They look out for each other, right?

He is going to be my plus-one at Jiyoon’s wedding. He’s taking me to shop for a dress. 

Sol wonders, truly for the car ride as she stares outside at the blue skies and empty streets of Seoul, if Han Joonhwi meant more than friends to her. If… she wanted more. 

Deep down, she couldn’t deny hoping for more. She liked the way he looked at her, eyes crinkled and smiling in half moons, the sweet smile that she couldn’t help but return. She has never had many relationships, considering her experience in school and afterwards. She was just too busy; too focussed. Seeing how this man cared for her just made her feel so… special. 

She has never felt that way.

[whiskery-louis]

Game Night

** Hi everyone here is my first imagine in a while and it is pretty long and there will be a part 2!

Synopsis: Luke and you broke up 6 months ago. Ashton invites you over for game night.

Luke Hemmings x reader

Warnings: None

Please enjoy and let me know what you think!!

*not my photo*

“Come on Y/N you have to come see us! We’re traveling across the country just to see you!” Ashton whined through the phone.

“Well I didn’t ask you too Ash. I can’t risk seeing him-”

“He’s not coming, he’s staying here with her. Hell I don’t even think he knows we left.”

You sighed, “Who exactly is ‘we’?”

“Me and Mikey,” you could hear the smile in his voice. You had always been the closest to him and Michael. Not that you and Calum weren’t close, it was just different.

“What about Cal?” you asked.

“He’s staying back so you know who doesn’t get suspicious about the three of us all leaving for a weekend.”

“I don’t know Ash,” you sighed again. “I have work and stuff. Plus I was supposed to see the twins this weekend, and I wanted to go to Target…” you trailed off as you rattled on with excuses.

“Oh please, you know you miss us just as much as we miss you. It’s been six months Y/N, just come hangout for the night. I promise it’s not gonna be anything big. Just you, me, Mike and Crystal. We’ll just do pizza and play some games. Please Y/N, we’re already at the airport and if you don’t come willingly we got your new address from Lacey.”

You mentally cursed your best friend, she knew you specifically didn’t give any of them your new address for this very reason. You were out of excuses and you could hear Ashton’s smirk through the phone. He had you cornered and he knew it.

“Fine. Text me your Airbnb info and I’ll come over tomorrow when I’m done work. But you better be getting the good pizza, and there better be drinks.”

“Yes she’s in!” you heard Mikey yell in the background. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread over your face.

“Bye boys, safe flight.”

You hung up the phone and put your head in your hands. While part of you was very excited to see Ashton and Michael again there was still a part of you that was worried. There was too much history between you and him so of course they all knew about it. They tried not to take sides during the break up but everyone knew he had Calum and you had the other two. It was part of the reason that you had moved back home instead of trying to find a place to stay in L.A.. You could feel the tension that was building between the four of them and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin their friendships or their band. It was all way more important than you. 

You hadn’t really spoken to any of them much other than the casual ‘how are you’ texts here and there. But from him it had been radio silence for six months. Now here you were, five minute after speaking with Ashton and you were already more stressed than you’d be in week. What did you get yourself into?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was nearing 6:15 and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull up to the house, you had been circling the block for almost 20 minutes and every time you were about to stop you told yourself one more lap. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you, you knew it was only Ash, Mike and Crystal and yet just the thought of being around his friends was enough to make you sick. 

“Fuck it,” you muttered, finally pulling into the drive. You grabbed your bag, and although you hated to admit it, you were excited to see your old friends.

You walked up to the door and hesitantly knocked on it. As soon as your knuckles hit the wood you could hear yelling and footsteps running up to the door.

“Y/N!!!” Ashton yelled engulfing you in a massive hug.

“Can’t breathe…”

“Oi sorry, I’ve just missed you lots.” 

“I missed you too.” you grinned at him, wondering what you had been worried about all day. It felt like no time had passed.

“Well let her in the door man,” Michael spoke up from behind.

You smiled as you entered the house and walked over to Mikey hugging him hard.

“It’s been too long,” he muttered as he let you back.

“Well yeah, that kinda happens when there’s a global pandemic and I move across the county.”

You could tell Michael was going to tell you off for moving but Crystal came in the room then and thankfully saved you from talking about him.

She wrapped her arms around you giving you a quick hug, “It’s so good to see you, I’m glad you made it!”

“Me too, though if I didn’t come willingly I knew you’d show up on my doorstep.”

“You got that right,” she laughed, “It took all my energy to keep them in the house all day.”

“Well I appreciate it, I had a lot of work to get through today figuring I’ll still be hungover on Monday from this weekend.”

It was fitting that as soon as I mentioned being hungover we walked into the kitchen to a full stocked bar.

“Man I forgot you guys really go all out for game nights,” you couldn’t help but laugh at some of the fond memories.

“Okay so what game are we playing first?” Ashton asked as he handed you a drink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later and you really didn’t understand why you were so nervous to come. It was one of the best feelings catching up with your old friends and thankfully they didn’t bring him up once. You were in the middle of an intense game of charades, Crystal and you were kicking the boys asses.

“Alright do you guys want to give up yet? You’re never going to beat us so why not save yourselves the embarrassment.”

They both looked annoyed at how the game was progressing, “Well maybe if Mike could draw anything other than stick figures we would’ve stood a chance.” Ashton grumbled.

“And now you see why I always make sure someone else gets stuck with him,” Crystal laughed as she dodged the pen Michael threw at her.

You all laughed as you cleaned up and you went over to the stack of games, contemplating what you wanted to play next. You guys had made your way through a few different games and a few rounds of drinks and honestly you were exhausted. Since moving back home you didn’t hang out with many people other than Lacey and you forgot how much energy it took to be around people. You were tired but it was the best kind of tired. 

“Can we just watch a movie now? I’m tired of losing,” MIchael whined from the couch.

“That’s exactly what a sore loser would say,” you shot back.

Michael just smiled and shrugged his shoulders looking at you, “At least I know it, but I so call picking the movie.” He picked up the remote and started searching through Netflix looking for a good comedy that everyone would watch.

“Anyone up for another round?” Ashton asked and you nodded following him into the kitchen to help. It was silent as he rummaged through the alcohol looking for something new to drink. You hopped up on the counter waiting to see what he would make.

“So how have you really been?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You looked up at him, startly by his question and you could see him looking at you intently and knew exactly what he was talking about, or more so who he was talking about.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you contemplated what to tell him. “I’ve been fine.” you answered shortly.

He scoffed at your answer, “Come on Y/N, I know you better than that and as relaxed as you seem, there is still a part of you that is on edge. You ghosted us all when you left and it was like we lost a member of our family. So tell me the truth, how are you really?”

His answer startled you, and you blinked to keep the tears at bay. “Ash I really don’t wanna ruin the night and talk about him. Can we just table it for now and go back in there with Mike and Crystal. I really don't wanna bring the mood down.” You stared back at him and there must’ve been something in your eyes because he dropped it. He handed you a drink and the two of you went back into the other room. 

“Hey what were you two talking about?” Crystal asked as you sat next to her on the couch, a knowing look in her eye.

You elbowed her subtly, “Debating if Mikey was gonna pick a shitty movie or not,” you laughed.

“Don’t hate until you see it, it’s a good one you all like.” He pointed to the TV and you saw Shrek was on. “Also you could say thank you I ordered a pizza and it should be here in about 30 minutes.”

“Didn’t you just eat a plate of buffalo chicken dip and mac’n’cheese?”

He shrugged, “If it’s a problem Y/N then you can’t have any.” He stuck his tongue out at you.

You held your hands up in defense “No, no. Just asking, I’m for sure eating that pizza.”

“That’s what I thought,” Michael replied smugly.

You just rolled your eyes at him and sat back to begin the movie. Not even 10 minutes later and there was a knock on the door.

“Y/N since you were so judgy you can go answer the door.”

“Fine, fine. Though you suck at telling time Mikey, this was way less than 30 minutes.”

You got up from the couch and made your way to the door excited that the pizza was here much earlier than anticipated. There was another knock on the door as you were opening it. You froze when you saw who was there. 

Luke.

He must not have been expecting you either because he had a dumbfounded look on his face, and his fist was frozen in mid knock.

“Y/N?” he breathed, his eyes boring into yours.

It was silent and you both just stood there and stared at each other. It had been six months since you had seen him and although there were some noticeable changes he was still the same Luke who broke your heart all those months ago. His arms were larger and his shoulders slightly broader. His hair was longer, his roots growing out which somehow suited him more. He had shaved his quarantine beard but the stubble was growing back. His eyes were the same blue that you fell in love with, but they were missing the usual mischievous glint.

“Luke why are you just-” Calum was caught off walking up behind Luke, his face lighting up when he saw you. “Y/N?! What are you doing here? It’s so good to see you!” He squeezed past Luke and pulled you into a tight embrace.

You had no words as you hugged Cal back, you were still in shock at them being here and you couldn’t take your eyes off Luke,

“What the hell is taking so long?” Ashton came around the corner and froze when he saw the new additions to the party. “Oh you guys are early…” he trailed off.

At his statement you felt the rage building in your veins, you pushed Calum off of you turning to Ashton the anger seeping out of you. “I’m sorry what? They’re what Ashton?”

He looked sheepishly at you, “Surprise?” he shrugged his shoulders, with a slight smile on his face.

You couldn’t believe this. It was all a setup. The whole night was a trick for you to see him again when Ashton knew more than anything that it was the last thing you wanted. You were at a loss for words, as much as you wanted to yell, you didn’t have the energy anymore.

“Look we can explain…”

You held your hand up cutting him off, “Don’t Ashton, just don’t. I don’t want to hear it. I’m leaving.”

You stormed into the other room, to get you things. MIchael was trying to look busy but the guilt was written all over his face. Crystal was sitting next to him with her arms crossed glaring at her fiance, she looked up when you walked in.

“I am so sorry Y/N, I had no idea or I would’ve never let them pull this stunt.”

You gave her a weak smile, “I’m just going to get my things and go.”

Michael turned and looked like he was going to say something, but one look from Crystal silenced him.

“Thanks for the fun while it lasted, but please don’t reach out again,” you heard footsteps behind you and knew the others had followed you into the room. “I thought maybe I could be friends with some of you,” you pointedly looked at Luke, “But if this is the shit you are going to pull them I am out. I’m sorry but I cannot go through this again. I just can’t.”

With that you grabbed your bag and all but ran out of the house. As you sat in your car you were thankful that you didn’t have too much to drink and were able to drive yourself home. The thirty minute drive seemed to take forever. All you wanted was your bed and to be distracted by Netflix. After what felt like an eternity you pulled into your driveway and walked into your house. You threw your bag on the table and couldn't believe the night you had. You knew Ashton and Michael had wanted you to talk to Luke when you first broke up, but that was six months ago. You never thought that they would pull this shit tonight. It was almost more painful this time as you realized you had to cut all of them out of your life and not just Luke. 

You hadn’t expected to see him tonight and it really messed you up. You had spent the last six month erasing him from your life, as much as you could. You put everything he gave you into a box that was hidden in your basement. You tried to throw it away but it felt wrong somehow. He was too big a part of your life to completely get rid of. Lacey once asked you why you didn’t get rid of it all and you knew she thought it meant you still loved him but that wasn’t it. You just couldn’t bear to part with everything that had once brought you so much happiness. You hadn’t opened the box since you moved back home, as you went downstairs to bring it to the kitchen, you knew it was going to hurt more after seeing him tonight, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

You spent over an hour looking through all the memories the two of you had made during your time together and you were a mess sitting on the floor with tears rolling down your face. Maybe it was from the exhaustion that raked your body or the alcohol that was still in your system but you left the contents of the box sprawled over the island and slipped on his old Nirvana shirt before going to your bed and finally falling asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next thing you knew you were being jolted awake by a banging on your door. You looked at the clock and groaned when you saw it was only 8:00am. Who the hell would be here so early. Hoping it was just a package you rolled back over and tried to fall back asleep, when the person knocked again.

You signed as you rolled out of bed and trudged downstairs in nothing but the old shirt you fell asleep in. Rubbing your eyes as they adjusted to the brightness, you opened the door and had to squint to see who was there.

“Y/N, you uh forgot your phone and I wanted to make sure it got back to you safely.”

You hated that your heart skipped a beat as your name rolled off his lips, your eyes focused on him and the events of last night came back to you instantly.

“Luke.”

[pastelwitchling]

Cosmic 🌌 Happy Malex Remix Day! 🌌

My malex remix piece is a sequel to @captainsassmanes‘s super angsty, super heart-wrenching, super lovely fic; Gravity.

Alex decides he’s done with Roswell, but Michael doesn’t want him to go.

You can also read it on ao3, if you’d prefer! I’m so glad I joined the challenge this year, it was an interesting experience. If you enjoy reading, even a little bit, please comment and share/reblog, it always makes the world of a difference ❤

***

Alex opened his eyes to a still-dark sky outside his window. He reached for his phone on the nightstand, checking the time; 4:30 in the morning.

               He rubbed his eyes and heaved a sigh into his palms. He wouldn’t be getting anymore sleep, he knew that much. He forced himself up, swung his leg over the edge of the bed, and reached for his crutches.

               His morning went by like clockwork. He washed his face, brushed his teeth, did his morning stretches, tried to ignore the constant ache in his leg, and sat down on the little stool in his shower to clean himself off. By the time he was in his kitchen and the sun was starting to rise, not even the steaming cup of coffee in his hands made the realization that he’d been stuck in a loop ever since he’d come back to Roswell any better.

               The silence of his living room was palpable, the faint snow falling outside and glittering in the morning light. Alex imagined the snow had reached a good three feet by now, and was glad for the excuse not to have to leave his house today.

               Home, he reminded himself, though nothing about this place had felt like home in too long a time. He was so tired of looking around and feeling more and more distanced from everything – the chairs and couches to the trees and birds. None of it had any meaning, none of it gave him comfort. It was just stuff. He didn’t think that was how it was supposed to feel.

               He thought of that conversation he’d had with Michael two weeks ago, felt like months ago now, when he’d followed him out of the bar. When he’d told him that Forrest was an idiot for breaking up with him. When Alex had confessed that he couldn’t trust his feelings, couldn’t trust that Michael chose him.

               That was why everything but a single piece of furniture was covered in white sheets now. That was why he had a plane ticket to New York booked for tomorrow night. Forrest had ended things for good reason, but Alex wasn’t going to go running back to someone who didn’t want him. He would go somewhere else, start over. He’d been saying that it was time for years, but stayed back. Because Michael was here, and he wanted to be where Michael was. Even when he’d dated Maria, even when he’d made it clear that he didn’t want Alex near him. Even after everything, Alex stayed, because he’d hoped.

               Then he’d found Forrest and learned what it meant to actually be loved, to be cared for. It made him realize just how hard he’d been trying to find love in everything Michael did and said to him, from even the cruelest words.

               His phone buzzed with another text. Alex glanced just at the name before he sighed, and deleted it, not bothering to read what it said. He couldn’t remember Michael ever texting him this much before he and Forrest had broken up. Six months ago, his heart would’ve fluttered at the idea that Michael was trying so hard to be with him. But the more cynical part of him saw the attempts for what they were; guilt, and a desire not to be alone for the night.

               No. Alex had had better, and he’d lost it. Forrest, he had decided, would be his last loss.

               It wasn’t until a little after noon, when Alex had finished making lunch, that he realized just how little say he would actually have in that. He’d expected the calls and texts to his phone to stop in the morning, after he’d ignored enough of them, but as Alex fished one of the few bowls he hadn’t packed yet from the pantry, a knock came at the door.

               His brows furrowed, and he checked his phone. Kyle and Gregory weren’t scheduled to come over until tomorrow, because of the snow, to help him pack the last of his things. No one had given him a heads-up that they’d be checking in on him.

               When he opened the door and found Michael on the other side, his shoulders slumped.

               “I need two minutes,” was his greeting. Alex looked over Michael’s shoulder to see the snow around his blue truck had moved aside for him, giving him room to drive.

               Alex should’ve told him to leave, that he didn’t have the time, that they had nothing to talk about. But he just sighed and moved out of the way.

               “You shouldn’t have used your powers,” he said as Michael took the chance and stepped inside past him. “Someone could’ve seen you.”

               He closed the door and Michael shrugged. “You were ignoring me.”

               “I wasn’t,” Alex lied, leading the way into the living room. “I’m just really busy, Guerin.” He stopped, and turned to face him with his arms crossed. “So whatever it is, make it quick.”

               But Michael wasn’t looking at him anymore. Instead, he was taking in the packed, cardboard boxes, the furniture draped with sheets.

               “You goin’ somewhere?”

               “Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “New York.”

               “For how long?”

               He stuck his hands in his back pockets. “For good. Did you want something?”

               Michael stared at Alex like he was waiting for him to laugh, to tell him he was joking, to say he was just doing some very intense spring cleaning in the middle of winter. When Alex didn’t, Michael scoffed, the hurt evident in his eyes.

               “So that’s it, huh?” he said. “You’re just going to leave? Run away again?”

               Alex clenched his jaw. “Did you want something, Guerin?” he said through grit teeth.

               Michael seemed to realize what he’d said, and his face fell. “I – Alex, I didn’t mean that –”

               “If you’re done, you can go.”

               “No, wait, listen,” he said, grabbing Alex by the elbows as he turned away, keeping him close. “I didn’t mean that, Alex, I’m – I’m sorry.”

               “Yeah,” Alex stepped out of Michael’s hold, hugging his arms to shield against him. “Seriously, why are you here?”

               “You weren’t answering,” he said, still looking around at the boxes a little helplessly. “I just . . . I wanted to see you. Why are you leaving?”

               “I need a change,” Alex said. “Roswell hasn’t felt like home in such a long time. I don’t have a reason anymore to stay.”

               Michael swallowed. “Roswell was never your home.”

               Alex stilled. Michael said it like it should’ve been obvious, like he had always been Alex’s home, Alex’s only safe place, like it was some unspoken truth. Alex thought that some truths should’ve been spoken a long time ago. They just felt like meaningless words now.

               “Then I guess,” he said quietly, “I want a home that wants me back.”

               “Alex –”

               “Look,” he scratched under his eye, “I leave tomorrow. I have a lot of packing left –”

               “Alex, please –”

               “And I just don’t have the time to play this game.”

               “I’m trying to tell you I love you!”

               Silence. Alex couldn’t look away from Michael, his glistening eyes. But it was too late. No matter how badly his heart wanted to believe it, he had to keep reminding himself that Michael hadn’t felt this way a year ago. He hadn’t wanted Alex when Alex had begged for him. He’d made his choice, and even though Alex had chosen him time and time again, Michael couldn’t do the same. He was done.

               He stepped closer to Michael, his hands clenched to fists. “And I don’t believe you.”

               Michael wouldn’t look away, his jaw clenched so tightly that Alex worried, despite himself, that he would draw blood.

               He didn’t say that. Instead, he said, “You need to leave.”

               “No,” Michael said at once. “No, I don’t want to.”

               Alex opened his mouth to argue, but the ground started to shake. Michael didn’t seem surprised.

               “Stop it!” he demanded. Michael said nothing, and the ground shook more wildly. Furniture started to fall over, floorboards creaked. “Guerin, stop!”

               “You’re not leaving me, Alex,” he growled. “Not again.”

               “Guerin –”

               A sound like a heavy blanket falling came from outside, and the windows turned dark. The house finally stopped shaking, and Alex looked around. Even Michael looked confused at what had happened.

               Alex turned to a window and pulled back the curtain to reveal snow, covering most of the glass.

               “No,” he breathed, and headed for the front door. “No, no, no.” He opened it to reveal a wall of snow. He checked the backdoor and found that sealed, too, as well as every single window.

               Michael sniffed as he set his cowboy hat down on the couch. He didn’t seem as bothered by what he’d done as Alex thought he should’ve.

               “Gear up, Private,” he smirked humorlessly. “Guess we’re stuck here.”

               “No,” Alex demanded. “You used your powers to drop the snow on us, just – just use your powers to move it!”

               He sat down, his arms stretched out on the back of the couch. “Can’t.”

               Alex clenched his jaw. “Can’t or won’t?”

               “Both.”

               “Guerin –”

               “I shook the house,” Michael said. “And I used the earth to move the snow back on my way here. So unless you want me to uproot every nail and window in this place, I’d get comfortable.”

               “You won’t even try?”

               “Nope.”

               “You’re such a . . .” he pulled out his phone and looked for Kyle’s name. No signal. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

               Michael huffed, pushing back the white sheet that covered the couch, and gesturing at the empty space next to him. “C’mon, Private,” he said.

               “I leave tomorrow, Guerin,” he argued.

               Michael leaned forward, any amusement in his expression gone. “Then that gives me a day to change your mind. So stop fighting me on this, because I’m not letting you go again.”

               *

               Michael had to admit; locking both himself and Alex indoors had been a happy accident, but when he’d made it clear that he wasn’t letting Alex go until he absolutely had to for his flight (honestly, he was reconsidering that part of the deal, too), he’d expected the airman to secretly be pleased, to find any excuse to be near him, the whole oh-no-there’s-only-one-bed-and-we’ll-have-to-share kind of situation.

               That was definitely not what ended up happening. Alex continued to pack what little he had left, pretending Michael didn’t exist as he walked in and out of the living room.

               “You gonna look at me anytime soon?”

               Alex said nothing, kneeling down in front of a cardboard box. Michael hated the sight of those damn things; blatant reminders that his Alex was leaving. For good.

               Michael crouched down beside him, his arms folded on his knees. “At least talk to me, Private. What’s so great about New York anyway? Is it just to be as far away as possible from me?”

               Alex’s shoulders slumped, exasperated. He didn’t have to answer, but Michael had always known that if he asked softly enough, Alex would tell him anything he wanted to know. Pride bloomed in his chest to know that only he had this power over Alex’s heart, only he could tug enough to get what he wanted from him. Alex would’ve been able to resist the world, but not Michael. And right now, Michael was desperate enough to take advantage of that.

               “No,” Alex relented. “It’s not because of you.”

                He smirked. “Got you to talk to me.” Alex glared, and his smirk widened. “Got you to look.”

               Alex shut his eyes and turned away, and Michael couldn’t miss the blush on his cheeks. Alex’s hands were clenched to fists on his lap. Michael licked his lips and carefully reached out, tracing his finger along the back of his hand.

               Alex flinched away from him the second they touched, and he stood. “It’ll get cold tonight,” he said. “I’ll go get you some blankets.”

               Michael stood after him. “Alex –” but Alex had already disappeared into the hall.

               That night, as he lay on the living room couch, Michael couldn’t help but stare down the dark passageway to where Alex was, sleeping soundly in bed. He imagined his soft hair splayed messily on the pillow, his body stretched out underneath the blanket, probably colder without Michael there to warm him.

               The silence of the heavy snow should’ve been warning enough not to move off the couch, but Michael couldn’t help it. He pushed himself off and, as quietly as he could, made his way to the bedroom. He just wanted one look at Alex, to make sure he was resting, to know he was safe and asleep and finally at peace, but instead, he opened the door to find Alex sitting up in bed, a book in hand.

               Alex raised a brow at him. “Everything okay?”

               But Michael couldn’t hear him so much as stare. His hair was sticking up in perfect, messy strands. His cheeks were rosy, his lips red, his muscles evident under his short sleeves.

               “Uh,” Michael started. “I – I was just . . . really cold.”

               Alex began to get out of bed. “Oh, okay, I can get you another blanket.”

               “Actually,” Michael said, already making his way to the bed. “I think I’ll just be warmer in here.”

               “What – Guerin –”

               But Michael was already sliding into bed and pressing the length of his body against Alex’s. He turned his face into Alex’s arm, inhaling his scent.

               “G-Guerin –”

               “Just for now,” Michael told him. “If you’re gonna leave me tomorrow, then I just want you now.”

               He thought Alex would kick him out, snap at him to leave already, but he only sighed shakily in that way he did when he was preparing to do something that scared him, and set his book down on the nightstand.

               Michael watched, his heart hammering in his chest as Alex slid down to lie beside him. He pulled the hem of Michael’s shirt up, and Michael let him take it off him. His eyes darkened and his mouth hung open as Alex leaned in close. He put his hands on Alex’s arms, feeling his muscles and wrapping one leg around Alex’s hip.

               “I want you now, too,” Alex murmured before he let Michael pull him down on top of him and kiss him.

               It all felt like something out of a dream, being allowed to touch Alex like this, to run his hands up his shirt and taste his nipples, his chest, his stomach, his cock. He couldn’t get enough. Every moan Alex made into his ear spurred him on, made his thrusts more erratic. Every plea made Michael groan, his body hotter, his length harder.

               By morning, he was still feeling the electricity in his spine, the heat in his gut. He woke, already reaching for Alex, eager for more of him. When he felt the empty space beside him, he opened his eyes and sat up. Because of the snow, it was hard to tell exactly what time it was, but he guessed it was late morning.

               “Alex?” he called, and heard shuffling inside.

               He picked up a blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders to shield against the cold. He stepped into the living room to find Alex piling boxes into one corner. His heart fell into his stomach.

               “What’re you doing?”

               Alex didn’t seem surprised that Michael had woken up. He stood, hands on his hips. “Making it easier for Gregory and Kyle when they come over. They’re supposed to help me get the last of this packed. They’ll be able to tear the snow down, too.”

               Michael swallowed the bile that was starting to rise up his throat. “Y-You’re still leaving?”

               Alex finally turned to look at him, but said nothing.

               “What about last night?”

               His brows furrowed. “I thought we agreed that last night was a goodbye.”

               “Goodbye?” he demanded. “No, Alex.” He shook his head, helpless. “When – when are you gonna stop punishing me for what I did?”

               He frowned. “Guerin, I’m not punishing you. I just don’t trust you anymore.” Michael fell silent. “I did everything I could for you, and you chose someone else. You know I can’t eat or sleep or think because I can’t help but wonder whether or not you would even care that I was leaving if Maria hadn’t ended things? That’s the worst part of it all. She ended it. Not you, her.”

               “Alex, that’s . . .” he shook his head. How could he have screwed up this badly? How could Alex – his Alex – have the tiniest doubt that he was everything to Michael? “Stay,” he demanded. “S-Stay for me.”

               Alex looked pained. “That’s not going to work on me anymore, Guerin.”

               Michael stepped forward as Alex turned away, taking him by the shoulders. “Look at me,” he said. “You know who I love.”

               He sighed. “Guerin –”

               “Let me try!” he pleaded. “We’ve been pushing each other away for over a decade, Alex. Let me just try to fix things. Give me one more chance, just one more!”

               Alex bit his lower lip, and looked at the boxes like Michael had; like they were threatening to separate them forever.

               He took Alex’s face in his hands. “Look at me,” he said. “I love you. I could give you a million reasons why I wanted to try with someone else, a million reasons I thought it would make me better for you, but . . . you do know me, Alex. Better than anyone. You know the real me, you know it’s you. It could only ever be you, and you know that, so please, stay.”

               “I . . .”

               Michael pressed their foreheads together. “We’re cosmic, baby. Remember? Stay with me, Alex. Stay with me.”

[satansjit]

Reflections on the Color of My Skin

By Neil DeGrasse Tyson

Wednesday, June 3, 2020

My colleague had other encounters with the law that he shared later that night, but his first story started a chain reaction among us. One by one we each recalled multiple incidents of being stopped by the police. None of the accounts were particularly violent or life-threatening, although it was easy to extrapolate to highly publicized cases that were. One of my colleagues had been stopped for driving too slowly. He was admiring the local flora as he drove through a New England town in the autumn. Another had been stopped because he was speeding, but only by five miles per hour. He was questioned and then released without getting a ticket. Still another colleague had been stopped and questioned for jogging down the street late at night.

As for me, I had a dozen different encounters to draw from. There was the time I was stopped late at night at an underpass on an empty road in New Jersey for having changed lanes without signaling. The officer told me to get out of my car and questioned me for ten minutes around back with the headlights of his squad car brightly illuminating my face. Is this your car? Yes. Who is the woman in the passenger seat? My wife. Where are you coming from? My parent’s house. Where are you going? Home. What do you do for a living? I am an astrophysicist at Princeton University. What’s in your trunk? A spare tire, and a lot of other greasy junk. He went on to say that the “real reason” why he stopped me was because my car’s license plates were much newer and shinier than the 17-year-old Ford that I was driving. The officer was just making sure that neither the car nor the plates were stolen.

Among my other stories, I had been stopped by campus police while transporting my home supply of physics textbooks into my newly assigned office in graduate school. They had stopped me at the entrance to the physics building where they asked accusatory questions about what I was doing. It was 11:30 p.m. Open-topped boxes of graduate math and physics textbooks filled the trunk. And I was transporting them into the building, which left me wondering how often that scenario shows up in police training videos.

We went on for two more hours. But before we retired for the night we searched for common denominators among the stories. We had all driven different cars—some were old, others were new, some were undistinguished, others were high performance imports. Some police stops were in the daytime, others were at night. Taken one-by-one, each encounter with the law could be explained as an isolated incident where, in modern times, we all must forfeit some freedoms to ensure a safer society for us all. Taken collectively, however, you would think the cops had a vendetta against physicists because that was the only profile we all had in common. In this parade of automotive stop-and-frisks, one thing was for sure, the stories were not singular, novel moments playfully recounted. They were common, recurring episodes. How could this assembly of highly educated scientists, each in possession of the PhD—the highest academic degree in the land—be so vulnerable to police inquiry in their lives? Maybe the police cued on something else. Maybe it was the color of our skin. The conference I had been attending was the 23rd meeting of the National Society of Black Physicists. We were guilty not of DWI (Driving While Intoxicated), but of other violations none of us knew were on the books: DWB (Driving While Black), WWB (Walking While Black), and of course, JBB (Just Being Black).

None of us were beaten senseless. None of us were shot. But what does it take for a police encounter to turn lethal? On average, police in America kill more than 100 unarmed black people per year. Who never made it to our circle? I suspect our multi-hour conversation would be rare among most groups of law-abiding people.

As I compose this, about 10,000 chanting protestors are filing past my window in Manhattan. And because of the intermittent looting and related violence, the curfew for this evening has been pushed earlier, to 8 p.m., from 11 p.m. in the preceding days. The most common placard was “Black Lives Matter.” Many others simply displayed the name George Floyd, who was handcuffed face-down on the street with a police officer’s knee on the back of his neck, applied with a force of at least half the officer’s body weight, resulting in his death. Curious irony that NFL star Colin Kaepernick offered a simple demonstration of care and concern for the fate of black people in the custody of police officers, by taking a knee during the Star Spangled Banner before football games. (One media outlet mangled the moment by describing him as protesting the national anthem.) The outrage against his silent act of concern for a national problem persisted through the 2017 season when, as a free agent, he went unsigned by any team to continue his livelihood.

So, we went from a peaceful knee to the ground to a fatal knee to the neck.

The way peaceful protesters and the press are being shoved, maced, tear-gassed, pepper-sprayed, and tackled in the streets of our cities (when the police should have focused on arresting the looters) you would think the protestors were doing something illegal or un-American. But, of course, the U.S. Constitution has something to say about it:

Congress shall make no law … abridging the freedom … of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

Which amendment was that? The First Amendment. So, the founders of this nation felt quite strongly about it, empowering one to declare that protesting for redress of grievances is one of the most American things you can do. If you are the police, pause and reflect how great is the country whose Constitution endorses peaceful protests.

What do we actually expect from our police officers? To protect the peace and arrest the bad guys, I presume. But also, to be armed with lethal force that they can use when necessary. That part clearly requires training on how and when to use (and not use) the power of your weapons. The rigorous Minneapolis Police Academy training lasts 4 months. The slightly more rigorous NYC Police Academy lasts 6 months.

Yet to become a certified pastry chef at a prestigious culinary academy requires 8 months. The perfect croissant demands it. So maybe, just maybe, police recruits could benefit from a bit more training before becoming officers.

In 1991, Rodney King (age 25) was struck dozens of times, while on the ground, by four LAPD officers, with their batons, after being tased. The grainy 1990s video of that went media-viral, inducing shock and dismay to any viewer.

But I wasn’t shocked at all.

Based on what I already knew of the world, my first thought was, “We finally got one of those on tape.” Followed by, “Maybe justice will be served this time.” Yes, that’s precisely my first thought. Why? Since childhood my parents instilled in me and my siblings, via monthly, sometimes weekly lessons, rules of conduct to avoid getting shot by the police. “Make sure that when you get stopped, the officer can always see both of your hands.” “No sudden movements.” “Don’t reach into your pockets for anything without announcing this in advance.” “When you move at all, tell the officer what you are about to do.” At the time, I am a budding scientist in middle school, just trying to learn all I can about the universe. I hardly ever think about the color of my skin—it never comes up when contemplating the universe. Yet when I exit my front door, I’m a crime suspect. Add to this the recently coined “White Caller Crime,” where scared white people call the police because they think an innocent black person is doing something non-innocent, and it’s a marvel that any of us achieve at all.

The rate of abuse? Between one and five skin-color-instigated incidents per week, for every week of my life. White people must have known explicitly if not implicitly of this struggle. Why else would the infamous phrase, “I’m free, white, and 21” even exist? Here is a compilation of that line used in films across the decades. Yes, it’s offensive. But in America, it’s also truthful. Today’s often-denied “white privilege” accusation was, back then, openly declared.

The deadly LA riots associated with the Rodney King incident are often remembered as a response to the beating. But no. Los Angeles was quiet for 13 months afterward. Everyone had confidence, as did I, that the video was just the kind of evidence needed to finally bring about a conviction in the abuse of power. But that’s not what came to pass. The riots were a response to the acquittal of the four officers in the incident, and not to the incident itself. And what is a riot if not the last act of helpless desperation.

The 1989 film by Spike Lee “Do the Right Thing,” which explored 1980s black-white-police tensions in Brooklyn, New York, ends with a dedication to the families of six people. Eleanor Bumpers (age 66), Michael Griffith (age 23), Arthur Miller (age 30), Edmund Perry (age 17), Yvonne Smallwood (age 28), and Michael Stewart (age 25). All are black. One was killed by a white mob. The rest were unarmed and shot by police or otherwise died while in police custody. All deaths occurred within the 10 years preceding film, and all occurred in New York City. None of the police-induced deaths resulted in convictions, as continues to be true for 99% of all police killings.

We know of these events because they each ended in death. But even so, back then, it was just local news. Was this just NYC’s problem? I asked myself. But for every police-related death anywhere, how many unarmed victims are shot by police and don’t die, or are wrongfully maimed or injured? Most of those cases didn’t even make the local news. But if you lived there, you knew. We all knew. For what it’s worth, NYC now has the lowest police-caused death rate per capita among the sixty largest cities in the US. Is it that extra two months training in the Police Academy?

The corrosion and ultimate erosion of our confidence in the legal system in cases such as these, even in the face of video evidence, has spawned a tsunami of protests. With sympathetic demonstrations across the United States and around the world. If the threat of prison time for this behavior does not exist—acting as a possible deterrent—then the behavior must somehow stop on its own.

Some studies show that the risk of death for an unarmed person at the hands of the police is approximately the same no matter the demographics of who gets arrested. Okay. But if your demographic gets stopped ten times more than others, then your demographic will die at ten times the rate. I suppose we first have to get the bias factor down to zero, but then there’s still the matter of police killing unarmed suspects, white people included.

I talk a lot. But I don’t talk much about any of this, or the events along this path-of-most-resistance that have shaped me. Why? Because throughout my life I’ve used these occasions as launch-points to succeed even more. Yes, I parlayed the persistent rejections of society, which today might be called micro-aggressions, into reservoirs of energy to achieve. I learned that from my father, himself active in the Civil Rights Movement during the 1950s and 1960s.

In a way, I am who I am precisely because countless people, by their actions or inactions, said I could never be what I am. But what if you don’t have this deep supply of fuel? What becomes of you? Who from historically disenfranchised communities, including women, LGBTQ+, and anybody of color, are missing—falling shy of their full potential because they ran out of energy and gave up trying.

Are things better today than yesterday? Yes. But one measure of this truth is a bit perverse. Decades ago, unarmed black people getting beaten or killed by the police barely merited the local news. But now it’s national news—even breaking news—no matter where in the country it occurs.

So how to change all this? Organizations have surely assembled demands for police departments. Here, I offer a list of my own, for policy experts to consider:

Extend police academies to include months of cultural awareness and sensitivity training that also includes how not to use lethal force.

Police officers should all be tested for any implicit bias they carry, with established thresholds of acceptance and rejection from the police academy. We all carry bias. But most of us do not hold the breathing lives of others in our hands when influenced by it.

During protests, protect property and lives. If you attack nonviolent protesters you are being un-American. And you wouldn’t need curfews if police arrested looters and not protesters.

If fellow officers are behaving in a way that is clearly unethical or excessively violent, and you witness this, please stop them. Someone will get that on video, and it will give the rest of us confidence that you can police yourselves. In these cases, our trust in you matters more to a civil society than how much you stick up for each other.

And here’s a radical idea for the Minneapolis Police Department—why not give George Floyd the kind of full-dress funeral you give each other for dying in the line of duty? And vow that such a death will never happen again.

Lastly, when you see black kids, think of what they can be rather than what you think they are.

Respectfully Submitted

Neil deGrasse Tyson — trying hard to Keep Looking Up.

Copyright © 2018 Neil deGrasse Tyson

[julemmaes]

Honey extra - The Sex Playlist + a little scene

Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre roommates au

A/N: I posted part five on the same day acosf was released, so if you didn’t see it, go read it, cause it’s.. long and it took me years to finish and I saw it didn’t get the same attention the previous parts did, and yeah

fic masterlist

this takes place somewhere between part five and six

Elide was one of the few lucky girls whose period was never too bothersome. The pain was always very bearable and only lasted a few hours, and most of the time, it wasn't even a real pain, just a slight pressure in the lower abdomen. She could go about her day without having to stop every few minutes because of a cramp - unlike Aelin, who died every month as if someone was stabbing her in the guts.

She also didn't have a heavy flow, which she would always thank the gods for, if they existed. She couldn't understand how her friends could put up with such misfortune.

Not that they could do otherwise, of course, but she was always in awe when they told her about their period-catastrophes. She knew that if it were her turn to suffer like that every time, she would rip her uterus out of her belly.

And at that moment, lying in a fetal position on Lorcan's bed, she wasn't entirely sure she'd be able to keep from doing it herself before the cramping stopped. Because for some strange reason, her body had decided to turn against her this month.

The last two weeks had gone by in the blink of an eye, she and Lorcan had fucked on every surface in the house and between work and classes and studying, Elide had gotten very little sleep. Considering also that every time she lay down, her boyfriend would slip in behind her and she couldn't say no to herself, to that pleasure so exhaustive and ecstatic, it made her forget that her body needed rest.

It had taken Lorcan to remind her that they couldn't go on like this.

So when she'd found a bloodstain in her underwear the previous night, just before going to bed after her shift at the diner, she hadn't worried so much and had thought that they'd finally take a few days off and maybe her body would calm down.

Elide wasn't a fan of period sex and the few times she'd done it she'd been so grossed out that she'd risked barfing in the middle of it. It simply wasn't for her.

What she hadn't expected though, had been cramps so strong they had pulled her from sleep in the middle of the night. Elide had gotten up and gone to the bathroom because she'd started moving around too much and didn't want to wake up the boy sleeping blissfully next to her. She had started pacing the living room, trying to figure out what the fuck she was in such pain for.

When it felt like someone had stuck both hands in her uterus and was digging their nails into her ovaries, Elide had knelt on the floor by the couch, leaning forward with her fists pressed against her stomach.

Lorcan had found her in that position around half past four.

To say he'd been scared out of his wits would be an understatement.

He'd thrown himself to the floor beside her almost immediately, all traces of weariness gone the second he'd heard her whimper in pain and seen that Elide was biting her lower lip so hard it was drawing blood.

When they had established that it was just her cycle, Lorcan had taken her back to his bed and now they were both lying between the soft blankets she had given him.

They had both been puzzled by this new symptom. After all, Lorcan had never seen her suffer from her period in all the years they had lived together and neither of them had expected it to be any different this time.

Elide had had to joke that it was the fault of his huge cock that had literally stabbed her in the uterus, and Lorcan had apologised in earnest, looking at her with wide eyes and pulling away a little, as if he really felt guilty. She had burst out laughing and then pulled him to her again, taking one of his arms and putting it around her body so that his big hand covered her belly.

He'd started moving his fingers over her lower abdomen, applying pressure from time to time when she seemed to tense up due to a cramp. It helped, somehow, to have him there to massage her. To hold her to his chest as they cuddled.

Now, Elide kept her eyes closed, his head resting on top of hers as they both dozed. Or at least she thought so, because Lorcan spoke, his rough, low voice too close to her ear, "How do you feel?"

She sighed, pulling her knees up slightly. His legs immediately followed her, as if they couldn't bear to be away from her body. She smiled, "A little better." then yawned, "I guess it's the fact that I was already tired as it is, what with university and all."

Lorcan hummed behing her, "I see," then he moved, pulling away only briefly, "maybe we should take it slower, with everything I mean."

Elide nodded slowly. She turned her head towards him, still with her eyes closed, but pursed her lips forward, silently inviting him to kiss her. He chuckled, but a second later their mouths clashed in a simple peck on the lips.

The music playing from the speakers suddenly changed from the sweet melody of a love song to something quite different.

"Cause I eat up for a while, let me through. The shake, the screaming aloud, I'ma fool. In my face you shake, leaking everywhere."

Elide's eyes went wide, "Lorcan!" she let go a surprised chuckle, "What is this?" she turned to him fully and could finally see the satisfied smirk on his face.

"It's a playlist I made yesterday," he then lowered his voice an octave, looking at her lips, "For when we can take the time to think about music instead of jumping right into it," he murmured.

Elide swallowed, nodding slowly, continuing to listen to the song.

Definitely very different from what he normally provided her with.

"I like it," she continued, then draped her arms underneath his, resting her head against his chest as he pulled her close to him and lay on his back, making her lie completely on top of him, "our sex playlist." she smiled, playing with the ends of his hair.

Lorcan hummed again and Elide felt it throughout her whole body when he said, "I called it 'elide'."

She had to force herself to calm the hot spirits that that new information had triggered in her body, but she was glad to know that he wouldn't be able to use that playlist with other people, considering it bore her name.

"I like it even more now," she confessed under her breath.

His arms tightened around her back and then his hands began to rub her lower back, where he knew she was feeling the most pain. Elide fell silent, enjoying his warm hands on her skin, and only had time to thank him before sleep beckoned her again.

The playlists

01.02

1. The Fixer – Brent Morgan

2. Why iii Love The Moon – PHONY PPL

3. Couch Potato – Jakubi

4. Anyway – Noah Kahan

5. comethru – Jeremy Zucker

6. Why Not Me – Forrest.

7. Loving – Surfaces

8. always, i’ll care – Jeremy Zucker

9. Like Strangers Do – AJ Mitchell

10. Yellow Lights – Harry Hudson

11. Glue Myself Shut – Noah Kahan

12. Colour Me – Juke Ross  

13. Lovesong (The Way) – Charlie Burg

14. Lucky Love – Michael Seyer

15. Freak In Me – Mild Orange

elide

1. Skin – Rihanna

2. Do It For Me – Rosefield

3. Body Party – Ciara

4. When We – Tank

5. Rockstar – Rihanna

6. F***in Wit Me – Tank

7. On Top – Trey Songz

8. Acquainted – The Weeknd

9. Freaky – Gemaine

10. Make You Feel – Alina Baraz

11. First Fuck - 6LACK & Jhené Aiko

12. Young God - Halsey

13. How Many Times – DJ Khaled

14. Fuck You All The Time – Jeremih

18.02

1. I Don't Know Me Like You Do – Low Hum

2. I Don't Wanna Be Okay Without You – Charlie Burg

3. Why Can't I Have You – Gloria Laing

4. If I Go, I'm Goin – Gregory Alan Isakov

5. Let Me In – Skinny Living

6. Reason To Hate You – Rhys Lewis

7. Be Your Man – Rhys Lewis

8. Yours – Jake Scott

9. Loved Us More – Munn

tog tag list (if you wanna be removed or added just send an ask or dm me)

@maastrash​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ @sleeping-and-books​ @ladywitchling​ @thegoddessofyou​ @ghostlyrose2​ @claralady​ @anne-reads​ @sayosdreams​ @perseusannabeth​ @letstakethedawn​ @simping4bookboisngrls​ @post-it-notes33​ @booksstorm​ @nalgenewhore​ @queen-of-demons-and-hell​ @miserablemusings​ @lanyjoy-13 @vasudharaghavan​ @cupcakey00​ @bri-loves-sunflowers​ @queen-of-glass​ @thewayshedreamed​ @the-regal-warrior​ @fangirlprincess09​ @januarystears​ @rowaelinismyotp​

[allsassnoclass]

hi!!! for the i love you prompts i was thinking about 83 for cashton 💙

Hello Maya!  Thank you for the prompt.

Warning: this fic takes place after a car crash

Cashton: “Stay there.  I’m coming to get you.”

Calum isn't sleeping when the call comes in, but it's a near thing.  The clock reads 1:37 when he glances at it before looking at the caller ID on his phone.  It's an unfamiliar number, something in his area code but not in his contacts, and he lets it ring through.  After a few moments of silence his phone rings again, the same number, and Calum figures that anyone calling twice isn't going to be a spam bot.

"Hullo?" he asks, clearing his throat so he doesn't sound as tired the next time he speaks.

"Calum?"

The voice makes his blood run cold, familiar even though he hasn't heard it say his name for months, sounding much too small and tired.

"Ashton?"

"Yeah, it's me," Ashton says.  "Sorry for calling so late.  I hope I didn't wake you."

"What's wrong?" he asks, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes.  If Ashton is calling him after radio silence for months sounding like that, there's no way this is a casual social call.

"I, um.  I need someone to pick me up from the hospital.  I'm sorry, you can call Luke or Michael if you want, but I-- my phone is smashed and your number is the only one I have memorized."

"Holy shit, Ashton," Calum says, heart leaping into his throat.  "Are you okay?  What happened?"

Ashton laughs helplessly, the kind of laugh he uses when he's dangerously close to a breakdown.  Calum used to be fully fluent in every sound Ashton makes, able to read his mood from the cadence of his breathing.  It seems like he still can, to some extent.

"I crashed my car.  Phone is busted, but they're letting me go.  Concussion and a broken arm."

It could be worse.  It could be so much worse, but Calum doesn't feel comforted.

"Is everyone else okay?"

"Yeah.  I was the only one in the car and I crashed it into a tree, so no one is hurt."

"No one except you."

Ashton hums.

Holy shit, Ashton crashed his car.  Ashton, who is the safest driver Calum knows.  Ashton, who Calum hasn't seen outside of passing moments with mutual friends in months and who still has his phone number memorized.

"Which hospital?" he asks.

"OSF.  You don't have to, I--I should've called a cab.  Sorry, I didn't think--"

"Stay there.  I'm coming to get you."

Ashton sighs.  Calum recognizes relief in it, but also defeat.  He needs to see Ashton right now.

"Okay," Ashton says quietly.  "Thanks.  I'll be outside by the discharge parking."

"Okay.  See you soon."

He doesn't speed, the knowledge that Ashton is fresh out of a car crash making him keep a careful eye on the speedometer, but it's a close thing.  He doesn't like the idea of Ashton waiting alone in a hospital, no one else there to make sure he's okay or to keep him from getting too deep in his own head.

He probably should've called Michael or Luke.  Ashton would surely be more comfortable with either of them right now, but Calum's number is the one he dialed.  Calum's number is the only one he has memorized, even if they broke up months ago.

Ashton seems so small sitting on the bench with the entire hospital lit up and looming behind him.  The florescent lights spilling from windows the sliding front door do nothing to penetrate the night, a floodlight instead beaming down on the bench like a spotlight, drawing Calum's eyes straight to Ashton.  He's hunched, arm drawn to his middle, head bowed.  When Calum pulls up to the curb Ashton doesn't look up until he rolls down his window and calls to him.

"Hey," he says.  Ashton tries to give him a tired smile, but he doesn't quite manage it.  He looks like he's about to cry, and it makes Calum want to cry, too.

He's supposed to be immune to Ashton by now, but it seems that a few months isn't long enough to get over him.

Ashton gets into the car silently, carefully buckling himself in around his busted arm.  There's a piece of gauze taped to his forehead near his temple.  His face looks gaunt, hair in need of a wash and clothes rumpled and torn from the crash.  He's definitely looked better, but Calum drinks him in anyway.  They haven't been alone together since they broke up.  Calum doesn't remember the words that they screamed at each other, just that it had felt like something important inside him shattered when Ashton slammed the door on the way out.

Calum is the one who said they were finished.  Ashton is the one who said he didn't love him, even though Calum knows that was a lie.

He doesn't need to ask how to get to Ashton's apartment from here.  He starts driving and gives Ashton a minute to compose himself.

"Why are you doing this?" Ashton asks eventually.  Calum glances over at him, but he's facing away, watching the city pass by outside his window.

There's a lot of things he could say here.  I didn't like the though of you waiting here longer than necessary.  I wasn't asleep anyway.  You sounded like you need a friend and when I told you to get out of my life I never actually thought you would.

"Why do you still have my phone number memorized?"

Ashton stays silent.  It's not like him; Calum was always the quieter of the two.  Ashton likes filling dead air.

"Are you okay?"

Ashton snorts.  He takes a shaky breath and Calum knows that he's crying now.  He doesn't have any tissues in the car.  He wants to reach out and comfort him, but he knows it wouldn't be welcomed.  Ashton has pride, a lot of it.  If he wasn't able to swallow it to salvage their relationship, he won't be able to swallow it a few months after the end.

"Sorry," Ashton says.

"Stop apologizing," Calum snaps, then winces.  "You don't have to apologize."

"I thought you wanted me to work on that," Ashton says.

He had.  Ashton was allergic to the word "sorry."  It was one of the things that contributed to their last argument, but Calum doesn't like how easily the word has slipped off his tongue tonight.

"Well, it's weird.  You don't have anything to apologize for tonight.  Not to me, at least."

Ashton makes a wounded noise in the back of his throat.  Calum clenches the steering wheel tighter to keep from reaching for him.

"It's been a bad fucking day," Ashton says.  "Everything's gone to shit at once and I-- you're the only person I could call and I thought you were going to hang up once you knew it was me."

"I wouldn't do that to you," Calum says.

"I wouldn't blame you if you did."

Calum doesn't know what to say to that.  They drive in silence for a few minutes, lights flickering by as the car winds through streets that Calum has been down hundreds of times before.

"You know I don't hate you, right?" he says quietly.  "Not for how we ended.  That was as much my fault as yours.  For a few weeks, I kept going over it in my mind what I could've said differently to change that outcome."

"Calum--"

"We don't need to do this now, but I think we need to talk.  I don't know if I can stop loving you until we do."

Ashton makes another wounded noise, one that Calum hasn't heard before.  He winces.

"Sorry,' he says.  "I shouldn't've said that right now.  I know you have a lot on your mind."

"You think?" Ashton huffs.  He's putting on a brave face again, trying to shift the conversation tone lighter.  It's false, but Calum lets him.  He knows that he needs to tonight.

He reaches for the radio and lets Ashton make halfhearted complaints about the songs or commercials until they pull up to his apartment complex.  Calum turns down the radio and watches Ashton unbuckle himself.

"Do you need anyone to stay with you?  Are you supposed to stay awake due to your concussion?"

"It's okay.  Matt should be home."

Calum nods.  Ashton reaches for his door handle, but hesitates.  He drops his hand and turns back to Calum, facing him fully for the first time all night.

"I'll get a new phone within the week and text you.  We can meet up and talk about... things.  Us.  Whatever we both need to."

"I look forward to it," Calum says.  Ashton presses his lips together and Calum wonders if that was the right phrasing.  It probably won't be a pleasant conversation, but Calum was telling the truth regardless.  He's looking forward to it because now that he's seen Ashton, he can't wait to do it again.  He's been in a desert without realizing it, and every glimpse of Ashton is a sip of water.

"Thank you for coming to get me," Ashton says quietly.

"You can call me any time," Calum says.  Ashton closes his eyes briefly, then musters up a smile.  It's fake, it's so fake, but it's the most real one he's given Calum all night.

"Have a good night, Cal.  Get home safe."

Calum watches Ashton until he's through the door, then stays in the car for a few moments longer before he can bring himself to put the car in drive and pull away.  He'll see Ashton again later, and he has to keep reminding himself that the entire way home.

[foramomentonly]

Saved-A Meet Ugly

Author’s Note: Behold, the promised meet ugly inspired by @aewriting ! Blatantly stealing titles from early aughts teen films of my youth at this point.

Summary: Alex discovers a) his new roommate is a Christian Fundamentalist who hates him, b) he’s love with said roommate, and c) he’s super wrong.

 CW: negative perspective on organized Christianity/Fundamentalism

Read on AO3

Alex meets his dormmate briefly in the hall as he and his parents are heading out to lunch. Michael Guerin is friendly, his barely-contained, nervous energy evident in the restless way he passes his hands through his close-cropped curls. His parents are formal, bordering on sour, and they glare at Alex’s eyeliner and polished fingernails with disdain. They don’t invite him to eat with them. Then again, Alex thinks as they part and he wanders towards the room he’ll share with Michael, his own father didn’t even bother to drop him off at school. Glass houses, or some shit like that.

Michael has claimed the left side of the room, his bed neatly made up with simple, blue sheets and his desk stuffed with thick textbooks, some already clearly marked with wear. A battered, clunky-looking laptop charges on his nightstand. Some secret tension in Alex slowly uncoils with the knowledge that he isn’t sharing living space with some rich prick; when he eschewed the Manes family military tradition for higher education, Alex left home with little more than his scholarships and a military duffle stuffed with clothes and stolen linens to his name. Knowing his days of watching douchebags like Kyle Valenti flaunt expensive tokens of their parents’ unconditional love are over is a small comfort. 

That is, until Alex notices the crucifix resting on Michael's plaid pillowcase. It’s innocuous enough; Liz Ortecho's small home has plenty, family heirlooms hung as reverently as Texas gas station finds, and Alex counts her among his true family. But the facts fall into place like thundering dominos—Michael’s parents' disgust at Alex's makeup, the family's conservative clothes, Michael's closely-chopped hair and, after a bit of snooping, the two well-worn Bibles Alex finds, one in Michael's nightstand and the other on his small bookshelf. Fundamentalists, most likely. Alex swears loud and defiant into the empty room. He thought he'd left bigots and homophobes in his dust, but like a plague of fucking locusts, they followed him, and here he is about to share a sink with one of them. 

But Alex also knows better than most that kids aren’t always carbon copies of their parents’ stupidity; he’d flip his shit if someone assumed they knew literally anything about his beliefs based on his asshole father. So when Michael returns to the room Alex is in stealth mode, spread out across his bed and feigning disinterest by flipping through his welcome packet, tracking Michael’s movements out of the corner of his eye. Michael blows a loud puff of air out through his lips and looks like he’s about to flop onto his bed. When he sees the crucifix, he freezes; Alex is about to celebrate a victory against religious indoctrination when Michael lifts the small cross reverently off his pillow and, after an appraising scan of his space, hangs it low on the wall above his nightstand, dragging his school-issued lamp in front of it. He jerks his chin down in a small nod of satisfaction before his eyes dart quickly over to Alex; he almost catches Alex in a glower. Instead, Alex is quietly seething over an intramural sports schedule, his face blank, eyes burning holes in the middle of the page. He figures he’s in the clear when he hears Michael’s bedsprings creak with the sudden weight of his body. Alex glances up and Michael is crossing his arms lazily behind his head. He lets out a loud, satisfied sigh and shoots Alex a disarmingly sincere grin.

“Free at last, huh?” he drawls, and Alex arches a cold brow.

“Sure.”

Alex has every intention of icing Michael out of his daily existence, but as months go by—months where Michael lets his curls grow wild, rambles on and on about the science of irrigation, offers Alex his extensive biology notes for midterms, and laughs loud and deep at all of Alex’s snarky asides—Alex finds himself smiling easily at Michael in return, willingly passing lazy lunch hours and weekend afternoons with him. It comes down to this: for all Michael hasn’t done—the crucifix is an ever-present shadow above his nightstand and weekly video check-ins with his parents are never missed—he just doesn’t fit the mold. He smokes weed on the abandoned picnic tables behind the dorm at night, signs every social justice-oriented pledge and petition shoved at him on a cheap, plastic clipboard on their way to class, and he never wakes up before noon on Sundays. He isn’t fire and brimstone, hate and hellfire. He’s marshmellow fluff; laid back and open, sweet and eager to please, all messy curls and broad shoulders and goofy smiles with too much teeth and—oh, fuck. Alex is in love with him. 

Alex is in love with Michael and Michael probably thinks Alex deserves to burn in hell and it’s Kyle all over again. Alex was never in love with Kyle Valenti, but he loved him the way a neglected, angry little boy would love the popular, gregarious kid who was his only source of sunlight. Graciously. Blindly. Kyle was Alex’s best friend, and when middle school puberty made evident that Kyle was a stud and Alex was, well. Alex felt the betrayal of Kyle’s sudden targeted cruelty like a punch to the gut, long before Kyle or his new friends ever laid hands on him. And now, Alex realizes, Michael is his best friend and his heart’s deepest desire and, he’s finally ready to admit, who he jerks off to on lazy mornings after Michael’s barely made it out the door for his 8 a.m. class with a shirt on. Alex is well and truly fucked. “Damned” is too on the nose.

Then one day Alex is dragging his miserably-in-love ass back from class and he totally misses the tie that slipped from the doorknob onto the ugly carpet in front of their door and he opens it on Michael and some random guy going at it on Michael’s bed, sheets bunched at the foot of the mattress, shirts tossed inside out on the floor, and Michael’s hand deep down the guy’s jeans as he pants and whines into Michael’s mouth.

“Shit!” Alex cries, waffling between shutting the door behind him to shield them from the prying eyes of hallway passers-by or in front of him to shut himself out of his own room. “I-I’m so sorry.”

Michael looks flustered, but it’s not the bone-deep terror of being outed; Alex is intimately familiar with that darkest timeline of queer identity. His boyfriend—hook up?—just looks annoyed. His dark eyes glare at Alex and he snaps, “Do you mind, man?” with a sharp nod towards the door. Alex squares his jaw and opens his mouth to retort when Michael says softly, seriously, “Don’t talk to him like that,” shaking his head at his bedmate. The guy huffs in disbelief, rolling off the bed to pull on his shirt, still inside out, and fasten his jeans, brushing his fingers through messy, deep brown hair. 

“You’re seriously kicking me out right now?” he murmurs low, and when Michael doesn't answer, he spits, “You are such a dick.”

Michael winces and bites his lip, normally bright eyes dim and gaze cast down towards his own hands. The sight of Michael cowed, flushed and hurt and getting told off by the same Hot Topic reject who was getting off with him not five minutes ago trips Alex's long-dormant kill switch. He steps into the guy's space, pulling back his shoulders so his shirt stretches tight over the muscles of his arms and chest, and draws up to his full height.

"You have thirty seconds to get the fuck out of our room," Alex says, voice low and eerily calm, even to his own ears. The guy glowers at Alex, but the corner of his mouth twitches and he blinks first, intimidation evident in his narrowed eyes. He brushes past Alex and slams the door behind him.

"Are you okay?" Alex asks, moving closer to Michael on instinct and setting a comforting hand on his bare shoulder. Michael gazes up at him with wide, honey eyes, opens his soft, pink mouth, and blurts, "I love you."

Alex blinks, gapes, and what comes out of his mouth is an incredulous, “But I’m gay!”

Michael snorts, cups Alex’s forearm gently and runs his palm up and down his skin, the soft hair on his arms.

“Yeah, I know. That’s kinda why I’m hoping I have a shot.” He pauses, hesitation creeping across his face, and he takes his hand off of Alex abruptly, as though he hadn’t quite realized he’d put it there in the first place. “If you’re not interested, I totally—”

“No, no, I am,” Alex says, and the wattage of Michael’s answering grin could power the university’s electric grid for the rest of the semester. “But I thought you were, like, Team Westboro or whatever.”

Michael’s face falls, his whole body withers, and he hugs his arms around his naked waist. The impact of Alex's words on Michael horrify him, and he drops onto the bed next to Michael, takes Michael's hand in his and strokes his thumb across it’s back, feels the knots of Michael’s knuckles as he grips Alex's hand in return.

“Why the hell would you think that?” Michael asks, staring at their palms pressed together in his lap.

Alex shrugs, answers, "I mean, I didn't. I don't. Not about, like, you." Michael turns his head, brow wrinkled in confusion. "It's just. The cross? The Bibles? Your parents, I—"

"They're not my parents, "Michael interrupts, voice flat. "They raised me, but. They never formally adopted me, and I'd have fucking run the other direction if I thought they were gonna."

Alex stays quiet, waits for Michael to continue, squeezes his hand gently to let Michael know he's listening.

"They're Fundamentalist assholes, for sure, but I never bought into that shit, especially once I—I realized I like more than just girls." Michael reaches out, pushes his lamp out of the way and glares at the crucifix. "I'd love to never see their fucking faces ever again, but winter break is coming up, and then summer vacation, and—" He hangs his head, nearly whispers, "I need to have a place to go. I can't afford an apartment on my own yet. So I play nice. Put that on my wall and make sure it's in the background for video calls. There’s, like, zero support for kids who age out of the system alone. I fucking hate it, but I need them." 

Michael leans his head close to Alex's, catches his gaze and holds it with deep, whiskey-colored eyes Alex all but falls into.

"I'm not ashamed of what I like or who I love," he says, "and I'm so fucking in love with you, Alex. I just thought maybe you weren't into me."

Alex licks his lips, and a flush of arousal darkens his cheeks as Michael tracks the movements of his tongue with hungry concentration.

"I'm extremely into you," he says, his throat very suddenly bone dry, his voice husky. Michael's gaze hasn't moved from his lips, but he has flipped Alex's hand in his lap, starts running slow, feather-light brushes of his fingertips across Alex's palm and up his arm, fingers snaking under the short sleeve of Alex's shirt.

"I really wanna kiss you," Michael breathes, "but I’m also aware you just walked in on me hooking up with, like, Alex Manes-lite, so I—"

Alex closes the distance between them, pressing his lips to Michael's and cupping his neck, fingers finding their way into Michael's curls like he's been fantasizing about for so long. They're silky, clingy, and Michael tastes like lingering mouthwash and he smells like rain and Alex presses himself into Michael's lap, desperate to feel Michael's arms around his waist, the hard press of his chest against Alex's.

"I really want to do more than kiss you," Alex pants when they reluctantly part for air, when Michael’s fingers slip beneath his shirt and his nails scrape down Alex’s spine, and Alex feels the touch much lower on the geography of his skin.

Michael laughs, loud and free, and his strong hands on Alex's hips guide his legs apart until Alex is straddling his lap, those same hands pushing Alex's shirt up his chest, over his head.

"Thank God," Michael laughs, and reaches for Alex's belt.

[freakygirlie]

J2 Fanfic Rec List <3

In honour of all the j2 content we have recieved, and the amount of fanfiction I have read, I decided to make a rec-list nobody asked me for but EVERYONE has to read k? Capiche? Make sure to heed the warnings, and read the tags. These are some beautiful gems by very talented authors and I’ve only scratched the surface of it.

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The Courtship Of Jensen’s Co-Star{Masterpost} by qblackheart-  

Summary:- Somewhere in the time between a handshake and a hug, Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki went from being reel-life brothers to real-life best friends, and complete strangers to cosmic soul mates, no rhyme or reason to it that either of them could ever see. Jared was everything Jensen was not: friendly, funny, and full of life; one in six-point-whatever billion the Earth’s population currently stood at. Life was awesome. Work was amazing. Everything was fine until Jared kissed Jensen. Everything was peachy until Jensen fell in love. With desperate times unexpectedly calling for desperate measures, Jensen called Chad Michael Murray for relationship advice – because being in love led to temporary insanity obviously – so it really didn't surprise him that he couldn’t seem to win when it came to wooing Jared. Still, Pisces must’ve been in a really good place in the night sky or something because suddenly, right smack dab in the middle of the miserable courtship of his co-star, Jensen discovered that maybe loving Jared was all he needed to do to win his heart. And luckily for Jensen, loving Jared was also the one thing he did best. ~112k~

The Play Nice Proviso{Masterpost} by qblackheart-

Summary:- When Jensen Ackles first met Jared Padalecki, it was most definitely not love at first sight. It wasn’t even like at first sight. In fact, Jensen hated him, and he had a few good reasons as to why. So what if his new co-star was oblivious to his one-sided warfare? Jensen could deal. Apart from when he couldn’t. So when it came down to picking between Padalecki and his peace of mind, the choice seemed clear. Except for the fact that The Network had his balls in a vice, leaving him stuck with Supernatural, stuck with his idiot co-star, and worst of all, stuck with a ‘Play Nice’ Proviso added to his contract. Well, he could play nice. He would play so nice that the world was going to think that he and Jared Padalecki were the bestest friends in the history of best friends. It was unfortunate then that no one had ever told Jensen what happened when an immovable object met an irresistible force; no one had ever thought to mention that there was a thin line between hate and love; and nothing, absolutely nothing, could have possibly prepared him for Playing Nice with Jared Padalecki. ~70k~

And The Rest, As They Say Is History by Raina_at-

Summary:- Struggling actor Jensen takes a job as big-shot movie star Jared Padalecki’s dogsitter. And the rest, as they say, is history. ~17k~

reinventing love ‘verse{Masterpost} by _mournthewicked-

Summary:- With high school graduation less than two weeks away, best friends Jared and Jensen find themselves scrambling to tie up a few loose ends before they’re forced into adulthood. Jared ropes Jensen into helping him get the alcohol for Sandy's graduation party, and what should be a simple night of partying ends up turning into a series of mishaps and misunderstandings that all come to head when Jensen finally tells Jared the secret he wasn't ever planning on spilling. If high school has to end, they're going out with a bang. (A J2 spin on the movie Superbad)  ~200k+~

My Heart Don’t Beat The Way It Used To by Raina_at- 

Summary:- Jared and Jensen have been best friends forever, and nothing’s going to ever change that, not even senior slump, or college anxieties, or even Jared getting an annoying cheerleader girlfriend. Or so Jensen thought. ~26k~

Can’t Point The Way To Your Heart by Belyste-

Summary:- AU in the vein of movies like Hitch - Jensen's an unofficial advice guru, and Jared's his latest project. Except while Jensen's supposed to be helping Jared end up with the woman of his dreams, he falls for him instead. ~33k~

Something Borrowed, Something Blue by Belyste-

Summary:- When Jared desperately needs a date for his brother's wedding, he hires an escort. Jensen's the perfect fake boyfriend, except pretty soon things get a little too real. Based on The Wedding Date. ~38k~

True Colors by muni-playground-

Summary:- Jared is a mentally challenged young man with a very special gift. Jensen is an executive with nothing in his life but work. They meet by accident and discover a connection that defies explanation. ~32k~

The Billionaire’s Reluctant Husband by house_of_lantis-

Summary:- Billionaire Jensen is a playboy and he needs a husband pronto if he wants to keep his company and his inheritance. After a chance meeting with quiet and hardworking Jared, Jensen decides that he’s found the perfect candidate. The arrogant Jensen thinks he’s got Jared in the bag, but when his new husband refuses to sleep with him and doesn’t really even seem to like him, Jensen convinces himself that he’s happy with his open marriage lifestyle. But Jensen becomes increasingly obsessed with his new husband and discovers the truth behind Jared’s dark past. ~98k~

Project Get Jared Banged{Masterpost} by soulmatecest-

Summary:- Jared's had the best stepbrother in the world in Jensen since the age of five — growing up together and more attached than usual brothers would —, only realizing that he’s in love with Jensen by the time he hits thirteen. After five more years of Jared's impossible crush, he knows his life turns and spins around his brother. Luckily for Jared, he and Jensen have always been closer than other siblings, making his feelings seem a little less hopeless. Or that is until Jensen announces he’s moving to Austin to live with his girlfriend next year, leaving Jared's perfectly built Jensen-centric world crashing to the ground. That’s when Chad and Sandy decide to convince Jared that moving on and letting go of his feelings are the only way to get through his lost love for Jensen. Yet their plan to get Jared out of his shell and over his stepbrother doesn't sit well with one person: Jensen himself, who realizes that the more Jared tries to pull away, the more he wants to get him back closer. ~120k~

Burn The Land and Boil The Sea by nyxocity-

Summary:- Eight years ago, Jared spent his entire summer on a tropical island off the coast of Mexico with Jensen. He fell head over heels for Jensen, but their lives were going separate directions at the end of the summer, and they never quite got together. Jensen left for Greenpeace and Jared went off to college—but he never truly got over Jensen. Now, in present day, Jared is a marine biologist working on a project in the gorgeous panhandle of Alaska. He’s amazed to discover the captain of the ship he’s chartered is none other than Jensen Ackles himself. Jared’s overjoyed, but Jensen is less than thrilled—he’s a changed man since that summer so long ago; withdrawn, passionless and solitary. Still something of the bond between them remains, and neither of them seem to be able to escape its pull completely. When Jared’s project leads them into danger and leaves them running and fighting for their lives, Jensen’s secrets begin to come out, drawing them back together—but can they survive long enough to figure out this thing between them? ~53k~

As This Sunset Turns to Morning{Masterpost} by _mournthewicked-

Summary:- Jensen spends his life hiding who he is from the family that would never accept him if they knew. When he’s uprooted in the middle of his senior year and suddenly becomes the new kid, his carefully placed mask begins to slip. Especially when he meets Jared – a loud, outspoken spectacle of a boy that fights for everything Jensen was taught to stand against. Jared has no problem going after what he wants, and now it’s just a matter of Jensen letting himself do the same. ~86k~

Leave My Heart Out of This by elless18- (link to the timestamps)

Summary:- AU. Jensen needs to get married in order to get his grandfather’s inheritance and open his own law firm. Jared would do anything to help his best friend. The plan is simple- pretend to date, get married, get the inheritance, get divorced. But things grow complicated when one of them starts falling for his fake boyfriend. Can they find their happily-ever-after from all the lies they’ve built around them? ~35k+~

Who Watches Over Me? by nyoxicity-

Summary:- Jensen Ackles is an ex-Navy SEAL turned civilian bodyguard with a mysterious past. Jared Padalecki is a flamboyant Hollywood star known for his action movies who's been receiving death threats. The case sounds like Jensen's idea of a nightmare, and he takes it on against his better judgment. Jared drags him to clubs and parties and award ceremonies without any care for how difficult he's making Jensen's job, and to his complete lack of surprise, they hate each other. But when hate changes into passion, it begins to reveal something deeper between them, and Jensen realizes he's in over his head. Can he still do his job and keep Jared safe? Or will he fall prey to his greatest fear and fail someone... again? ~96k~

The Billionaire’s Bidding by Raina_at-

Summary:- When idle, slacking billionaire’s son Jensen Ackles lends a helping hand to his old childhood friend, he gets a lot more than he’s bargained for. ~31k~

Hold My Whipped Cream by dimpleforyourthoughts-

Summary:- International Best Selling Author Jensen Ackles is all kinds of specific with the details of his life. He likes privacy, writing, and coffee; black, no sugar, hold the cream. He’s become a fixture at the local coffee shop, writing from his table every day for the past two years. His vices include routine, neatness, and structure. Jensen doesn’t do messes. Then there is Jared, recent post-grad basket case, who’s been coming in every day for caffeine he doesn’t need and bringing the increasing disaster in his life with him. Jared is a mess in all the ways Jensen is not and so Jensen offers to help Jared in the only way he knows how: by buying Jared a cup of coffee. ~37k~

Operation: Mistletoe by dimpleforyourthoughts-

Summary:- FBI Agent Jensen Ackles is a damn good agent, but his devil-may-care attitude, gut instinct, and sheer dumb luck have finally run out. With his job and reputation on the line, Jensen is assigned to a new partner: the overzealous and overachieving Agent Jared Padalecki. Their mission: Infiltrate a ring of drug dealers hiding out in Suburbia in the midst of the Holiday season. The only catch? They have to pretend to be head-over-heels in love with each other. ~39k~

Regaining Sense{Masterpost} by astri13-

Summary:- A vengeful crime-boss cost Jensen not only his eyesight but also a promising career with the FBI. When the man resurfaces two years later, Jensen is not thrilled to find himself taken into protective custody, even less so when the Agent in charge turns out to be Jensen's former partner and boyfriend, Jared Padalecki. Will the two men be able to overcome their differences and work together to not only stop the bad guy but also uncover the mole in their own ranks before it is too late? ~27k~

Say You’re Mine by Belyste-

Summary:- It takes his two best friends getting engaged to make Jared realize what’s missing in his own life, but once he figures it out, he’s a man on a mission: find true love or die trying. He’s not asking for much – just the perfect soul mate to spend blissful eternity with – so when a chance meeting drops Jensen into his life (and his lap), it seems like fate. But either Jensen missed that memo or fate seems to have other ideas, because nothing works out the way Jared planned. Based loosely on S1 of How I Met Your Mother, but you don't need to have seen that to know what's going on. ~56k~

Absence From Those We Love by _mournthewicked-

Summary:- Jensen Ackles led a great life. It just wasn’t the one he planned on. Now he’s newly single, stuck at a job he hates, and sharing an apartment with his lovably psychotic best friend. When he’s given the chance to go back and do it all over again, he leaps at it. Only he soon comes to realize that no matter what’s in front of him, it’s impossible to leave the past behind. Considering what he’d be giving up, he might not even want to. (17 Again - J2 Style.) ~41k~

Change The Fate’s Design by _mournthewicked-

Summary:-  All Jensen has ever wanted to do is see the ocean. Unfortunately, that's kind of hard to do when your dad won't let you leave your house in the forest because of your magical powers. So, Jensen spends most of his days with no one but his pet hedgehog to keep him company. At least, until a guy named Jared stumbles along and offers to help him realize his dream. (A J2 spin on Disney's Tangled.) ~50k~

A Spotlight On These Desolate Dreams{Masterpost} by _mournthewicked-

Summary:- In high school, Jared Padalecki had it all. He was surrounded with rich, famous, beautiful friends and partied with young Hollywood's elite. As if all of that wasn't exciting enough, he used the tricks he learned from his grandfather to become an amateur sleuth with his billionaire best friend, Jensen Ackles, playing the role of trusty sidekick. But when he got in over his head and lost everything he once held dear, he knew that it was time to move on. That was ten years ago. Now he lives the lonely life of a hardboiled private investigator on the streets of Manhattan, and his fabulous past is nothing but a distant memory. That is, until a tragedy forces him to return to California and the world he left behind. Between juggling rabid paparazzi, sarcastic detectives, and a spurned ex-best friend, it's a wonder that he can possibly find the time to solve a murder that has left the city of angels reeling. ~50k~

Break Me, Shake Me, Hate Me, Take Me Over by orphan_account- (sorry, I can’t access the author’s account but the story’s link still works!)

Summary:- When recklessness, alcohol and a bullet to his hip sees his police career end in disgrace, alpha Jensen Ackles resigns himself to a life spent in the dregs of a bottle, aimless and filled with regrets, watching as the bills and eviction notices pile up. That is, until he's offered a job and lodging with beta lawyer Samantha Smith, as a pseudo bouncer/admin worker. It's a far cry from his previous life, but it might just be what Jensen needs to drag himself from the dark place he's in. Not only that, but little does Jensen realise that taking on the position will bring him face to face with his biggest regret; the person he walked away from three years ago in what was the worst mistake of his life... ~70k~

Whiskey River, You’re All I Got by whisperedstory-

Summary:-  Jensen's life revolves around The Whiskey Sour, the bar he inherited from his grandfather nine years ago. But with too few customers and not nearly enough profit, things are taking a turn for the worse. And then Jared Padalecki walks into Jensen's life and changes everything. ~19k~

Out Of The Silence by annie46-

Summary:-  When hardened, but lonely cop, Jensen Ackles meets Jared Padalecki in his family’s diner, he doesn’t realise that his life is about to change drastically. Jared is a complete innocent, deaf, mute and unable to communicate, he needs a friend. Can Jensen be that man? ~the word count wasn’t mentioned but if i had to take a guess, I’d say something between 20k and 30k~

The Execution Of The Last Steal by soulmatecest-

Summary:- Anyone who meets Jared Padalecki would think he has the perfect life: a college degree, a normal life and an apparently perfect fiancé, Stephen Amell, the son of a Senator with a bright future. Except for one thing: it’s all based on a lie. Five years ago, he created a new identity for himself to cut all ties to his criminal past and ex-boyfriend Jensen Ackles, a world-renowned thief. But Jared can’t run forever. A threat from his past comes back looking for him and the only person who can help him is the man he thought he left behind forever, the only person Jared’s never been able to forget. Incredibly charming and just as cocky, Jensen Ackles is a thief that is too good at his job for his own good, who would do anything to protect Jared now that his life is in danger. Years have gone by, but he has never been able to forget Jared either. And perhaps now that they are forced to escape together, Jensen might be able to do what he’s best at: steal Jared’s heart one last time and win back the only person Jensen has ever loved. ~97k~

Bring Me To Life by alienat-

Summary:-  Jared’s a shy young man, whose life has never been easy. His father hates him, his mother drinks her sorrows away and his husband Paul treats him like he is nothing more than a beautiful toy. When his husband has to go away on a business trip to Europe for two months, he sends Jared away to a ranch in the middle of nowhere to keep him under control. There, Jared meets people who show him what love, friendship and loyalty mean for the first time in his life. Can he escape his life and finally find some love and happiness for himself? ~81k~

Gunpoint{Series} by felisblanco-

Summary:-  Jensen got his childhood stolen away from him when he was ten years old. Along with his memory, his voice and every emotion that wasn’t fear, hatred or anger. Question is, can Jared help him get any of it back? And more importantly, does Jensen really want him to?

Election Day by morganaDW(morgana07)-

Summary:- Jensen's running for President with the deck already stacked against him. He's come out as gay while serving in Congress, his Vice President is a colorful Misha & his family has disowned him over his choice of partners. But that's not the worst of it...On Election Day when he should be focused on winning Jared ends up shot after stepping in front of a killer's gun to save some school children. Election Day is important but to Jensen nothing is more important than Jared and he doesn't care who knows it or if he loses so long as he can be with him. It's Jensen who winds up surprised in the end. ~8k~

A Boy At An Open Door by poor_choices-

Summary:- Jensen Ackles' life is all sorted out, until a blast from the past shows up and makes him realize he's not as happy as he thought. ~10k~

Beautiful Disaster by nyoxicity-

Summary:-  Rock Band AU. Jensen’s the lead guitarist in the number one rock band in the country. Justin’s the lead singer, and they’ve been doing this together since middle-school, been together since just after high school. As on top of the world as they are, Jensen’s starting to become disillusioned with the lifestyle and his crumbling relationship with Justin. And then he meets a new roadie on the crew named Jared who’s got a voice like an angel and a heart to match, and everything starts to change. ~96k~

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And that’s the end of it!!! These are absolutely beautiful, gorgeous and epic fanfictions and will keep you buys for days! Hope y’all enjoy these, I’m off to read more sksksksksk. Let me know if a link doesn’t work, if you like any of these in my inbox and if y’all want a part 2! Peace and J2 5 ever!!!

[obeyme-kaidii]

Lesson 43 Summary

Solomon gives everyone food poisoning, and MC spends the day with Mammon.

**SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT**

Mammon comes downstairs for breakfast, complaining about how bright it is outside. As he talks to MC, he realizes that no one else has gotten up yet nor have they prepared any food. He and MC decide to go check on his brothers and see why they are still asleep. 

Lucifer is the first one they check on, and they are shocked to find that he is still asleep. Lucifer explains that in the middle of the night he suddenly recalled Solomon’s cooking, and just the memory of it made him extremely ill. Next, Mammon and MC check on Satan, and he passes out in the middle of his complaints regarding Solomon’s cooking. They then head to Beel and Belphie’s room, and Belphie is trying to help Beel who is feeling so sick he doesn’t even want to eat anything. Both decide it’s best to just go back to sleep.

Afterwards, Mammon and MC check on Levi, but he doesn’t even answer them, so they assume he’s still passed out as well. And finally they check on Asmo, who claims to have drunk a “bottle of water” Mammon had brought him from the fridge that he thinks may have actually been something that Solomon prepared. He quickly falls back to sleep as well, upset that he is going to miss the opening of the new Cafe he had heard about.

Mammon and MC are then talking in the halls, and realize they are the only two who haven’t been made ill. They decide that since the refrigerator has clearly been contaminated by things Solomon may have made, that it’s best to just clear it all out and buy new food, as well as some antacids in the hopes they will help with everyone’s stomach pains. 

The first place Mammon and MC stop by is “The Angel’s Halo”. They notice that the cafe is still closed, so MC is given the option of making it into a date with Mammon later. Mammon gets very excited about the idea of having a date with MC where he’s not running errands for Lucifer and comments that perhaps he should even thank Solomon. 

Mammon explains to MC how in the past, his brothers always take things to extremes when they get sick, but he hopes it won’t come to that since they are in the human world and limited by what they can do. He then pulls out Lucifer’s credit card and announces that it’s what he’s going to use to pay for all the food and medicine he plans on picking up today. He also admits that he may pick up a few things for himself as well while he’s at it.

Mammon finds a nearby deli, and the pair stand in line for food. While waiting, Mammon explains to MC that he’s actually pretty at home in the human world and has a lot of experience coming up there since the witches are always calling him. 

He then goes on to explain that he can’t say no to the witches. His explanation is rather vague, and he mentions that they helped with some of his debts, among other things. (Assuming this is a reference to the story told in his The Guardian Demon Devilgram) He then goes on to say that he likes the human realm, and if MC were to ask, he’d stay with them there forever (instead of returning to the Devildom). 

MC and Mammon then overhear some customers talking about The Angel’s Halo and how there is a rumor regarding their coffee. It’s said that if you drink their coffee, the person you’re in love with will fall madly in love with you. This catches Mammon’s interest, and he tries to play it cool and tell MC that he’d rather check out the cafe like they had planned instead of just eating at the deli.

As they walk to the cafe, Mammon insists that it’s not because of the coffee. MC is given the option to say that they’d wish he’d fall in love with them instead, and he admits that he is already madly in love with them so it wouldn’t be possible. 

Just then, Mammon bumps into someone - and is surprised to find that it’s Luke. Luke is very excited to see MC, and basically ignores Mammon, which only irritates him. Luke explains that Simeon should have contacted MC already, but that they have both been busy “getting ready” for the “grand opening.” He then leads them to The Angel’s Halo cafe, where Simeon is. 

Simeon then explains that the cafe is his, and claims that Michael has appointed him and Luke as ambassadors, in a sense, to “coordinate relations between the human world and Celestial Realm.” The cafe is intended to allow them to blend in and interact with the humans so that no one suspects them.

Simeon goes to prepare some food for Mammon and MC, and MC takes the time to explain to Luke about everything that has happened so far in Lessons 41 and 42. Simeon returns and both he and Luke get a good laugh about the fact that MC was hired as a “BABYsitter” for the brothers. Mammon then asks Simeon if he could have a cup of the coffee everyone is talking about.

Mammon explains to Simeon the rumor he heard about the coffee, and this bothers Simeon since he thinks it’s dishonest to draw in customers by such superstitions (but forcing the brothers to be angels was totes ok 👌🏻). When Mammon asks how such a rumor could have gotten started, Simeon guesses that it must have had to do with a stranger he offered a free cup of coffee to one day before they officially opened.

Simeon then explains that he didn’t do anything special and didn’t use his “angel powers” to help the customer. He also explains that he doesn’t have the ability to make humans fall in love (implying that other angels may). 

Luke explains that angels are born with their own powers, and all of them are a bit different just like how humans are good at different things. He also shares that angels are assigned a rank based on how good they are at what they can do. Simeon is an archangel, which is essentially a warrior (so I’m assuming his powers are related to that?). Mammon teases Luke about his rank, and Luke explains that he hasn’t been assigned one yet because he’s still too young and is still trying to find out what he’s good at. 

Mammon encourages Luke to “try hard” and “go for the top” so that one day he could become a seraph. Luke is embarrassed by Mammon’s teasing, saying that he’s just making fun of him, and insists that he actually wants to be a principality, which Mammon finds even more amusing. 

Simeon then changes the subject back to the rumor about the coffee, and explains that he really does want to do something about it, fearing that it might also blow their cover. MC is given the option of suggesting that Mammon help fix it, which he initially objects to (saying we can’t order him around lol, ok sweetie). MC is also allowed to beg Mammon to help, and he quickly caves and agrees to help. Simeon gets a chuckle out of watching Mammon’s interaction with MC, and Luke thinks it’s so gross. 😂

Luke suggests that perhaps the best method of squashing the rumor is to start another, but Simeon is unsure if that would really be effective since there is no guarantee that the new rumor will spread. Mammon makes a comment about how if a couple had gotten into a fight over the coffee then it wouldn’t be so hard to deal with - which gives Simeon the idea of staging a dramatic breakup fight in front of other customers. 

Simeon and Luke then suggest that MC and Mammon help them out by playing the pretend fighting couple. Mammon is strongly opposed to this idea, saying he doesn’t want to get into a fight with MC even if it is just pretend. 🥺 After some back and forth with MC, and a bit of jealousy about the idea of MC doing it with anyone else, Mammon finally agrees that he’d rather just do it himself. 

Simeon then explains that it would be best if they did a practice run first, just to get a feel for things since they don’t want it to be too scripted and rehearsed. MC starts off the pretend fight with Mammon, who is initially a bit uncomfortable and uncertain if MC is actually acting. He then gets into it, and starts listing off his complaints about MC - basically all revolving around how MC spends time with, and is affectionate to, his brothers. 

Watching from the sidelines, Simeon finds it very entertaining, but Luke is starting to grow concerned that Mammon might not actually be acting. 

Mammon then finishes up by saying that he can’t take it anymore and wants to breakup. He struggles to maintain his composure and stay “in character”, and he finally breaks down and loudly declares his love for MC and reassures them that he didn’t mean it and would never want to break up with them. 🥺🥺🥺

Simeon of course is not impressed with Mammon’s inability to fake a breakup and calls him useless. 😠

Meanwhile, back at the house (I totally forgot the name, whoops), Lucifer is seen in the kitchen where he encounters Beel. Beel is feeling a bit better after having eaten again, but Lucifer and Asmo are still unwell and Levi is still not answering his door. 

Beel mentions that Satan is actually in the library. Beel explains that it looked like he was searching desperately for a book, which Lucifer thinks is very odd considering how they are all feeling. He decides to head over there to check on Satan, suspicious of what he could be up to. 

In the library, Satan is trying to find a spell book that contains a curse for transferring one’s physical pain to someone they hate. Lucifer overhears his plans, and threatens Satan with consequences. And Satan counters that since he’s a demon he now has to do it, simply because Lucifer told him not to. 

Later, Satan joins Beel in the living room and he’s feeling much better. Satan suggests that they both head to the cafe together. Beel agrees, and then tells Satan not to pick on Lucifer so much. Satan points out that despite being a demon Beel still cares a great deal about his family, and Beel counters that Satan is the same way even if he won’t admit to it.

Back at the cafe, Mammon and MC are now helping Simeon and Luke out. The grand opening has them extremely busy, and since they weren’t able to stage the fake breakup, they are being put to work waiting tables and manning the register. 

Satan and Beel then enter the cafe, and are surprised to find Luke and Simeon there (as well as MC and Mammon). They explain that they are both feeling better, and Simeon informs them that now that they are, he’s not going to let them get away and insists they help out too. 

Beel is put on dishwashing duty, and is crying about how hungry he is. Mammon is mildly annoyed at how well Satan is blending in, and then turns to MC and asks if they want to sneak away since Satan and Beel are helping and things have slowed down a bit. MC forces him to stay though (which is totally lame, I wanted to sneak away with him. 🤷🏻‍♀️).

That evening, everyone has returned home and they are all exhausted. Beel is all smiles now because he enjoyed the sandwiches that Simeon had given them as thanks. 

Satan remarks that he was surprised to find Simeon and Luke in the human realm. Mammon explains how they mentioned that Michael had ordered them here, which Satan thinks is really strange. He states that that’s the sort of job for “dominions” - not angels like Luke and Simeon. He theorizes that Michael might actually have something else planned.

MC then asks about Michael. Mammon says he thinks he’s like a demon masquerading as an angel, and that when they were still angels, he often cruelly punished Mammon. He also goes on to say that Michael is a lot like Lucifer. Satan says that while the two didn’t look similar - describing them as polar opposites - they actually behaved a lot like twins. Mammon also explains that he was obsessed with Lucifer, and Satan shares that he thinks it's because Lucifer was someone who Michael idolized and wished he could be more like. 

Then, Beel comments that he feels rain, but they are all inside. When they look up, they realize that it’s not rain they are feeling, but a water leak in the ceiling - coming from Asmo’s bathroom.

Favorite Scenes -

A date with Mammon

Newlyweds

Mammon and the butcher

Mammon’s domestic dream

Where Mammon wants to stay

The coffee rumor

Falling madly in love

Simeon’s cafe

Angels and their powers

Asking Mammon for help

Fake breakup scene 1

Fake breakup scene 2

Fake breakup scene 3 (aka Mammon’s true feelings)

Simeon’s smile

Satan’s suspicions

About Michael