#girl dinner who??? this is a damn feast

[latenightcravingz]

HE'S SO GRRJKDKSKDKJENRNRNENNE

Redraw of that one frame from Spiderman 2099 comic, vol. 3, but with more spice✨

I quite like his white suit, especially since it was in the background in ATSV, so… There you have it. Enjoy~

Please, if you dont mind, reblogs really help me get noticed :<

I was talking about this page:

[aphroditelovesu]

Ok, so In your response to my last spiel, you mentioned that Alexander will have a zero tolerance policy towards anything that may harm Reader and her the twins, including other wives.

It does make me wonder how Alexander would react to one of the wives (aka Roxanna 👀👀👀) trying to kill our girl. I keep picturing this scenario where it's a banquet, feast or some sort of get together with Alexander, Reader, Roxanna and maybe some of the generals. Long story short, Roxanna hands Reader a cup with a 'special' drink (ie she says promotes health, will help with the pregnancy etc). Reader, being as smart as she is, and knowing Roxanna's history, is automatically suspicious. To see if it's safe she either asks Alexander to 'taste' if for her or insists that Roxanna take the first sip. In either case, it results in Roxanna frantically slapping the cup out of Reader's hand before either she or her husband gets poisoned. At that point, everyone has noticed the commotion, and have realized that Roxanna has just tried to poison the Queen.

My question to you is this: what does Alexander do next? Lets assume reader is pregnant just to make thing extra spicy.

Since requests are open again, perhaps you could do it as a reaction blurb? I'll leave that up to you though. I'm just curious as to what you think would happen next.

Thanks, and hope you feel better ❤️!

--O-

❝ 📜— lady l: this was longer than I thought and I don't know if it's good, I liked it, but let me know your opinion, anon! Forgive me for any mistakes, love you! ❤️

❝tw: attempted murder, mention of poison, domestic violence (??), physical punishment and perhaps torture.

❝📜pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader.

❝ 📜word count: 1,246.

It was supposed to be a happy and fun dinner.

Needless to say, that's not what happened.

You were sitting next to Alexander, being shown off as his beloved Queen and heavily pregnant. Everyone was hoping for an male heir and was happy for you, everyone except Roxanna who looked at you as if she wanted to stab you or, in this case, stab you in the stomach.

That scared the shit out of you.

You were already familiar with her story, about what she had done to Stateira and Parysatis, and you were afraid that she might try to do something to you and the baby.

You wouldn't let anything happen, though. Although you weren't excited about the pregnancy news at first, you warmed up to the idea and began to look forward to holding your baby in your arms. And you'd be damned if you let anyone try to take that away from you.

''Are you alright?'' Alexander leaned over and whispered in your ear. You looked at him and smiled, it was still strange calling him your husband, but you were getting used to it.

You gave a weak nod to his question.

Alexander frowned and placed his hands on your swollen belly. It was just a few months until the birth and he was so excited. He did want an heir, but he couldn't help but want to have a girl.

A little princess to love and spoil.

''We need to start choosing names.'' He joked, trying to ease your obvious tension, although he didn't know what was making you tense. Yet.

''I already gave you some choices.''

Alexander grimaced, ''Yes, you did and they are all horrible. What kind of name is Augustus?''

You laughed loudly, attracting attention. Augustus, yes, you had given him that option as a joke. Obviously you weren't going to name your child after the first Roman emperor, but it was fun to play with your husband about historical things.

''It's just a common name where I come from.''

''Hm...'' He half-closed his eyes and you touched his face gently, caressing him. Alexander purred and leaned into your hand.

This earned you a look of compassion and a furious, jealous look from Roxanna. You didn't notice and neither did Alexander, both too busy in your affection for each other.

''I love you.'' He murmured, looking into your eyes intensely.

You smiled at him, ''I love you too.''

''Let's make a toast!'' Nearchus' amused voice sounded and everyone turned to the admiral.

''A toast?'' Cassander asked with a loud voice looking into his cup of wine.

Nearchus laughed loudly and slapped his friend on the back, ''Yes. In honor of our beloved Queen, (Y/N).''

Nearchus didn't notice Roxanna's withering look at him. But you did and the pure hatred you saw in those dark eyes gave you goosebumps.

You knew that look and you knew nothing good was coming.

Everyone raised their cups, even your husband's second wife. You were the only one drinking water, even Hephaestion was drinking wine, and he was loose and happy. And that made you happy, you liked him and he was one of his closest friends and you hated seeing how haggard he seemed lately.

''I dedicate this toast in the name of our beloved (Y/N). Our Queen, sometimes soldier and friend.'' Everyone laughed as they remembered what you had done in the Indian Campaign, ''And the child she carries in her womb. May it come healthy and, regardless of gender, we will love and protect this child. To (Y/N) and the baby!''

''To (Y/N) and the baby!'' Everyone repeated and drank the wine in your honor, you laughed, feeling loved and took a sip of water.

You took a piece of bread and bit into it, satisfying your hunger. Roxanna looked at you and smiled. She took a clay jug and poured the thick, dark liquid into a cup and handed it to you.

You raised your eyebrows in doubt as you picked up the cup.

''It's for you. My doctor told me that it helps with pregnancy and helps the health of the baby and the mother.'' Roxanna explained, biting into a piece of bread.

You mentally scoffed. She didn't think you were that stupid, did she? It was insulting that she thought she could poison you in such a blatant way.

You decided to act quickly, ''Why don't you take a sip first?''

She furrowed her dark eyebrows, ''Excuse me?''

''It's a custom among my people that the person who gave you a cup must taste it first.'' You explained, handing her the cup.

Roxanna looked at the cup in your hands with hatred.

''Take it'' You encouraged her, ''or is there some reason why you don't want to drink it?''

Alexander turned his eyes to you and Roxanna, before he could ask what was going on, Roxanna slapped your hand, making you drop the strange liquid on the table.

The noisy room fell silent in a matter of seconds as Alexander stood up from his chair and fixed his eyes on Roxanna.

''What do you think you're doing?'' Alexander's voice was so cold, so lethal that you stiffened. He ignored you, focusing entirely on his second wife.

Hephaestion, who was sitting on Alexander's left side, stood up and touched the thick liquid on the table. He grimaced as the liquid stuck to his finger.

''That's...'' Perdiccas started to speak but couldn't finish.

''Poison?'' Ptolemy finished for his friend.

''How dare you?!'' Cassander growled, also standing up and glaring furiously at Roxanna. He never liked her, he wasn't oblivious to the hateful looks that Alexander's barbaric wife sent to you, to his friend. And now she tried to poison you.

Cleitus was still sitting, watching everything with a stony expression, but his hand was on the dagger stuck in his chiton. He was prepared to act, one word from you and Roxanna would be eliminated from the world.

Alexander still didn't take his eyes off Roxanna, but he spoke to you, ''Go to our room. I'll be there in a few minutes.''

You wisely decided not to disobey.

You stood up carefully and quickly looked around, watching all your friends, your husband, stare at Roxanna who looked terrified. You should have felt bad for her, but you didn't.

Not when she threatened the life of your unborn baby.

Once you were out of sight, Alexander addressed one of the guards stationed at the entrance to the hall, ''Take the whip.''

Roxanna's small body shook in fear at her husband's words. Her shaking legs gave way and she fell to her knees on the floor, feeling hot tears fall onto the dress she was wearing.

Alexander did not feel sorry. And neither do the others. She had brought this on herself.

Actions have consequences and punishments must be applied. And Alexander would not tolerate anyone threatening your life or that of his unborn child.

Alexander felt satisfaction fill his body as the guard brought out the whip and positioned himself behind a desperate Roxanna's back. He watched with satisfaction as the whip hit her sensitive skin and felt satisfaction when he heard her screams of pain.

Roxanna was to blame for her own pain and the scars that were forever marked on her skin were true proof of that.

[astralnymphh]

⤹ okay but on the topic of vampire!ellie, which one do you guys personally like?? has nothing to do with what i'll write next, just a curiosity + headcanons. MDNI 18+ enjoy this free vamp!ellie brainstorming content with a random side of nipple fixation!

¨༺ ♱ ༻¨

teenage dirtbag vampire!ellie in a modern realm who can't stand being in her parents suburban hell born house, tired of their cockalorum and urging for her to engage more in the vampiric branch of her family. attend the parties, go human–hunting with the other blood–ingesting addicts, try this, do that. it all irked ellie the wrong way, made her psyche boil, cause all she wanted to fucking do was you. she craves only your blood, your taste, the metallic ribbons pumping your lifeline was like a goddamn nectar to her. and you let her feed, because you loved her. you let your meat sack of a body replace her breakfast, lunch, dinner– first and final meal.

that's why you let her move in with you. cause you fucking can. now, every itty–bitty token of her life tangles with yours on the walls. pictures and awards, a manifold of knickknacks cluttering the window sills, even her clothes tend to blend with yours– an illusive invitation for you to wear her clothes without the question ever pressing her lips apart. you both are madly besotted in each other. no denial objects to that.

and, fuck, this version of ellie is hot. fitted tanks absent of a bra– pale brown pierced nipples erecting the thin fabric into a small mound. gray wash skinny jeans that fit her lean legs well, waistband cruising nicely under that peek of a v–line, fraying at the ankle hems that contrasts into those battered up converse of a similar hue. oh, and usually cloaks her shoulders up in a sable leather jacket– with your name patched in. a jacket, so prized, alwaaays winds up hurled to some isolated and cimmerian corner of your room, purely cause she lacks the care to hang it up whenever she returns home in a scramble, fangs unsheathing for blood. her knees would find themselves pressing hard into the mattress beneath both of you, centering a large gully of weight where her half–unzipped crotch and your butt meet, thirstily rutting to the point of numbing your clit through the hard denim of your pants. her zinc button just kept pounding that shit, keeping you spread wide. while dry humping you, she'd moan and groan hot on your earlobe, fangs partial hooking on the rim, "mhh– fuck n' suck, babe– can i? fuuck.." 'fuck n' suck' was just some made–up code for, well, it should be obvious. times like those, where she intends to fuck her pussy rough on you without remorse, whilst drying your organs of blood.

ohh, but i'll write that in detail one day~

gothic vampire!ellie who lodges high on a hill, deep in the mighty fathomage of her grandoise palace, steeples scaping high into the howling sky– torn asunder by a network of lightning above. you're nothing but meat and blood, princess, a feast inside regalia. every freshwater pearl, every satiny reflection of light off your dress, only made your flesh more supple in her fluorescent fern eyes. those lucifer–damned pupils though, well, let's just say you can't even measure the green pool of her eyes anymore. dilating, big black saucers, ballooning the milken white away whenever she snags a glimpse of your blood. that phantom heartbeat of hers races madly, mad of love for that color. for that glisten of liquid. so divine, she thinks. a gulp bolts down her gullet when within a measly foot of you, or, more specifically, a mere gate between the two of your noses. how else is she supposed to store her cache of sustenance?

yes, that's precisely what i'm hinting at. a holding cell. dusty and decrepit, rats abundant skittering the stone ground, and you swore cobwebs began to web themselves in your hair– now loose and unbraided. that brute of a girl would crouch on the opposing side, dangling keys on a loop sat upon her finger, ploddingly wagging like a swinging great axe. taunt, taunt taunt taunt.. is all she would skip about and do. slip into your cell quickly and play with you. kitty–cornering you and blocking you in her arms, cooing how terribly sorry she feigns to be, for jailing you up and treating you like meat. however, tides turn, and so do emotions. could it be, the dracula upon the misty cliff– has fallen in love?

turns out, witty princesses with a snakish tongue and spit to spare really turned her on. fuck, even you cursed yourself for rending your guard and feeling a magnetic pull to that hunk of a beast, clad in her midnight black, puffed sleeves and collar drawstring shirt. finely sewn black trousers and shiny black boots, curse you, for finding something about that hellishly horrid outfit so handsome on her. there's– oh, this particularly noticeable asset tp her garb as well. the black dye was nearing translucency, and if you loitered your vision directly on her chest long enough, caught in the right cosmic light, you could see that waxen bosom and her nipples, light brown contrary to her vampiric skin. haha, how humiliating it was when she caught you staring at them as she stood in front of your sat stature, being so brazen enough to ask, "something caught your eye princess? shall i strip myself of this, then?" whilst her hands mindlessly tucked under the loose hem anyway, wringing the fabric over her head and banishing it aside. "here, feel my dead heart–" swirled her voice, thrusting her hand out to grasp yours, cold as the ice age, her mitts froze your wrists and yanked them forth, pressing them flat against her breast and swiping her thumb across your contrasting warm skin, leavening with excitement as you fondle. she stows her knee on the bed adjacent to your thigh, whispering, so.. so, hauntingly, "feel that? no pulse, no life, not a spark lives within me, dear." and it was nothing vastly far from the truth. beneath her erect nipple, was no beat. eyes widening to a moon, and lips parting to steal simply too much air, you shudder. was it fear, you shuddered for, or arousal? that's a tale, for another day.

[mpregandproud]

Isaac II (Part 3)

Although it may seem otherwise, resting is anything but easy. I love being at home, watching a movie, taking a little walk in the garden, sunbathing on the terrace… but by the fourth day I don't know what to do. And in my case it's not just four days that I have to be like this, it's 30 weeks.

On the other hand, I kill boredom by eating more and more every day. I eat breakfast… twice, because I'm hungry again as soon as I end eating for the first time. Lunch portions have multiplied. The snack, instead of being something small to kill hunger until dinner, has become a small feast. And although all the doctors recommend otherwise, my dinners have become very copious.

Pregnancy anxiety, I get hungry, so I eat. The fear of doing something that could lead to losing the babies makes me more anxious, so I eat even more. So much eating makes me put on weight at an exaggeratedly fast rate. The weight gain worries me, so it makes me anxious and this leads me to… yes, eat more. I'm in a circle that never ends.

And to top it off, Isaac and I have stopped fucking like we used to. We've gone from being two rabbits who feel like having sex at all times to abruptly entering our era of monks with a vow of chastity. It's all for a good cause, I know, but if my sexual needs before I got pregnant were already exorbitant, now with my hormones revved up I'm horny 24 hours a day. But my husband has decided not to give in and to arm himself with unprecedented willpower not to visit my hole every night. Just my luck.

This situation keeps me awake at night, so I get out of bed a thousand times. Sometimes Isaac wakes up too and accompanies me for a little starlight walk in the garden. He gives me kisses and caresses me. The bastard of him has such a self-control that I hate him. I want him to fuck me in the middle of the lawn, among the geraniums, like that night when the condom broke and we ended up where we are now. But no, even though he knows that his way of giving me love and support makes me horny as hell, it doesn't go any further. I want a time machine to jump seven months ahead in a second and to fuck again with him. I can't take it anymore. I need sex NOW.

Other nights I wake up alone and wander around the house. I usually open the door to our children's rooms and watch them sleep peacefully. That night Dylan and Nate were out, it was Saturday, so they were out partying with their friends. Sandra was out with her boyfriend Cal as she was every night, and the rest of our children were still away on vacation. There is something about the solitude of home, the silence and darkness of the night that gives me peace. Although I'd rather be riding my husband like a cowboy with his horse, I'm happy to walk around slowly.

My little walk around the house, more waddling than walking, took me to the bathroom we have down the hall, it's the bathroom that Sandra, Cristina, Charlotte and Ivana use, the girls' bathroom, as my boys call it. A light was coming from under the door, had Sandra left the light on before leaving the house? I went over to turn it off and at that moment the bathroom door opened and Sandra came out looking like she had been crying. I was paralyzed, what has happened to my daughter, why has she been crying, why hasn't she woken up Isaac or me to tell us what was happening to her.

“Honey, what's wrong, why are you crying”, I asked her and rushed over to her to give a hug. She started crying even more and didn't answer my questions. She started crying louder and louder. Isaac appeared where we were and asked the same questions I asked before. I told him I didn't know what it was, and he suggested we go to the kitchen to sit there and talk.

We took Sandra into the kitchen and she and I sat at the table. Isaac brought some tissues for Sandra to dry her face, and a tub of chocolate ice cream for me. This damn man knows me better than anyone. He knew perfectly well that I was getting anxious about seeing our eldest daughter like this, and that if I was already awake it was because I was hungry again. He has stopped fucking me like he used to weeks ago, but now his biggest passion is to satisfy my every craving. I always forget how much it turns him on to see me fat and very pregnant. He is my ultimate downfall, and one of the reasons why I'm putting on weight like crazy. But I couldn't blame him, I love making him happy.

Isaac sat down at the table, and with a smile and a calm tone of voice asked Sandra again what was wrong. This time, with the girl more comforted than before, she began to stammer out an explanation. “I am so sorry, I have disappointed you. I'm not the daughter you expected”, and she began to sob again.

“What? No, nothing like that, my love. Why do you say that? Your father and I are very proud of you”, Isaac said her after he jumped up from his chair and walked over to her. I was no longer agile enough to get up so quickly with this belly, but I reached out to her to give her my arm and let her feel my support.

Sandra reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a small white stick. It was a pregnancy test and she handed it to me. I turned it over and looked at it, “Oh, wow. Honey, I'm so sorry”, and that's when I really got up to hug her. “It's going to be okay, these things happen, believe me”, I told her. If anyone in this house knows what it's like to get pregnant by accident, it's me. It happened to me twice with Isaac, and if we count the time I got Sandra's mother pregnant, that would be three times.

“Does Cal know yet?” asked Isaac.

“Yes, I took the test at his house this afternoon,” she said wiping away her tears again. “He says he wants us to have the baby, he wants to take care of the child and me. He says it was his mistake not to wear a condom. He assured me that he was in control, that he would use the reverse technique, but it was too late by the time he realized,” she told us. “Why did I have to say yes? Why did I make this mistake? I've sent my life to hell for letting myself get carried away in a night of sex”, she blamed herself. “I know he didn't do it on purpose, because his shocked face was like the one dad Dan made when he saw me in the bathroom earlier, but I don't know if I want to have this child, I don't see myself ready. I don't know if being so young we are going to be good parents”, Sandra said.

“Whatever you decide, we are going to be with you, and apparently that is the same thing he told you. I don't know what he will be like, because I don't know him very well either, but apparently he is willing to fight for you and your son. He seems to be a responsible man,” Isaac said. “That's right, take the decision calmly, but know that here you have a family ready to support you in everything. We are going to be together no matter what,” I told him.

“While you're deciding, I'm going to bring you a present,” Isaac said. Sandra and I looked at each other in surprise, not understanding anything. And immediately he came back with a jar of strawberry ice cream. “It works with your father, why wouldn't it work with my favorite girl”, Isaac said to Sandra with a wink.

It's because of details like that that I'm still in love like the first day with this man. He is able to bring a smile to our faces even in the most complicated moments. He has been an exceptional lover, husband and father, and if Sandra decides to go through with the pregnancy, he will be the best grandfather ever. I love him.

Go to Part 4

[azwhore]

husband alex turner x wife reader

warnings: nun but fluff <3

<><><>

It’s been a while since you’ve last seen Alex. He’s been on tour for The Car for six months and have only seen him on a few occasions. You couldn’t go with him and the band due to work; you were forced to stay behind despite your attempts to go with them.

The last time you and Alex had seen each other was about two months ago. The only reason you were able to see him was for an interview he had in which you were invited to. He begged you to go with him even though you didn’t like doing so. Alex knows that. You’ve always hated being interviewed with him because it felt like the interviewers were trying to pry into your private relationship. What went on between Alex and you was for you two only, not for the public.

After a long day at work, you come home exhausted. You’re eager to shower, eat some dinner, and just relax. Who wouldn’t be? So when you get home, that’s exactly what you do. An “everything” shower was desperately needed after the week you’ve had.

Once done with your shower, you put on a comfy set of pajamas. A grey tank top and white sweats, perfect. You decide on some perfume, even though you won’t be around anyone for the rest of the night. You put on your Victoria’s Secret Bare roll-on perfume. It’s your favorite.

You finish getting dressed and make your way to the kitchen to make dinner. Deciding on what you’ve taken out, you make pollo guisado (chicken stew). It was one of your favorites. Mom always made it when you were younger.

After some time, you finish cooking and feast on it. Man, were you a damn good cook. One good meal later, you settle in your queen sized bed that you shared with Alex. You miss him. You miss his warm body cuddling. You miss his soothing voice.

You soon dwell no more on that, as you were almost on the brink of tears. You pick up your book that you were currently reading on the nightstand, How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents. So far, you are greatly enjoying the book. You like analyzing it as well as it being somewhat relatable.

***

It’s 11:18 PM, about an hour and a half since you started reading. You need to get some sleep since you have work all over again tomorrow. Luckily though, tomorrow is Friday. Wonderful.

You put your book back and settle in bed. You can feel sleepiness sinking you deeper and deeper. Reveling in the feeling, you eventually fall asleep.

Suddenly, you feel something envelop around you. You wake up, anxiety beginning to course through you. Just as you are about to panic, you hear a voice whisper in your ear.

“I’ve missed you, love.” You’d recognize that voice anywhere. It’s Alex.

Turning around, you take a good look at your husband whom you haven’t seen for two months. He greets you with a smile, his hair as messy as you remember.

“Alex!” You exclaim. You couldn’t express your excitement any other way than wrapping your arms around him. Tears begin to well at your eyes, threatening to fall. You try to hold them back with all your might so you could speak with him.

“I thought you wouldn’t be able to come back for a while? How come you’re here?” You ask, bringing him into another big hug. You can feel him smiling against you as he brings his arms around your body, squeezing you against him.

“One of the shows got postponed for two weeks from now so I immediately came here. I had to see you. If I had gone another day without you, I would have gone mad.” He explained. It felt so good to see him again.

“Ugh, I’ve missed you so much.” You say. Suddenly you realize he might be hungry so you ask, “Are you hungry? There’s still some leftovers from what I made earlier. I can heat it up for you.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m just glad to be here with my wife.” He smiles. You could never get tired of his smile.

“How’s the tour so far? It looks like you and the boys are having some fun.” You laugh. Even though you aren’t going on tour with them, you still keep up sometimes. Especially with those edits of him that fangirls make. You’re not complaining since your husband is a damn fine man if you say so yourself. They should tone it down just a bit, though (don’t actually alex turner is so fine).

“Yeah it’s been awesome. The places we’ve been to have been beautiful. I really wish you could come with us, love. That would just make it 100 times better.” Alex smiles once again.

“Me too. But you already know why I can’t. If I didn’t have work, I most definitely would.” You say. It’s not like Alex wouldn’t full on support you financially; he obviously would. You, on the other hand, don’t want that. The two of you even got into a big argument once about it. He doesn’t see a problem in financially stabilizing you, but you would rather work. You still want to have a life and work for yourself. You don’t want to be just a stay-at-home wife; it’s so stereotypical of celebrity relationships. You want to make a living for yourself, and Alex now 100% understands and supports that.

“Yeah, I get it. My dear wife is so strong.” He gives you a quick kiss with a smirk. You giggle at that. Alex always knows how to make you laugh.

Some time later, you lay with each other in a comfortable silence. This was almost the best part of your relationship. You two could just sit there with your eyes closed not saying a word and you both would understand each other.

Alex lays on his back, eyes closed with his left arm wrapped around your shoulders. Your head is resting against his chest while your hand is on his stomach gently tracing circles. Your eyes were closed too as he hummed to you.

“You know, I still have to go to work tomorrow.” You break the silence. Alex hums in response.

“Do you really though? I’m going to be stuck here by myself all day without you.” He says with a pout.

“Well, I probably could call out tomorrow. One day wouldn’t hurt, right?” You question. Now that you think about it, you haven’t called out from work in a while. You should get a day off. “Hm, I think I’ll stay here with my husband. I get to enjoy a whole three days with you.” You say kind of sarcastically. Although you were anything but sarcastic. You’re more than happy to spend the rest of his two week break with him, as was he.

The both of you continue to enjoy each other’s silence, sleep overcoming you once again. Your eyes feel heavy as they slowly fall. Eventually, you succumb to your slumber, your breath evening out. Alex follows soon after with you in his arms. He really hopes these two weeks last forever.

<><><>

[ranchracoon]

"Blood, Flesh, and Bones" Prologue

Master Post

Long ago we used to be worshiped. Before those claiming to be righteous and holy came; they burned our alters, raped our followers' minds, their bodies, and we were forgotten. Except for a few who continued to worship in secret but one by one they were found and burned in front of a false idol. Then there was one. Then there was you. 

"When I die, come here to this spot. Light a candle and repeat these words exactly as written. Bring something of mine, steal my ashes, and lay me here. Otherwise, I will never know peace. Remember dear, these are the ones you call to."

You were a little girl, only 6 or 7, when your grandmother told you this. It was the first day you went to church to take communion, and you rejected it; you turned it down so loudly that afterwards your father beat you until you accepted. You ran away to your grandmother's house just a couple blocks away and she tended to your black eye, your bruised wrists, and your fractured ribs. Then she took you out into the woods, deep where no one would see, no one would hear, and no one would find you. The elders, the priests, forbid going into the forest for they speak of evils beyond human imagination. Creatures that feast on those who wander, creatures of unholy nature. If they were to find you, you would be subjected to worst punishment than your father's beating. Yet here surrounded by trees, and whispers on the wind, you felt safe, not like in the church where you felt watched, scrutinized, and damned. For once, you are at peace. You grandma knelt in front of a stone with unknown writing on it, but she knew the words and she recited them to you. She assured you; they are not the ones to fear. 

You began that mantra, whispering those names and prayer you've committed to memory. It was time to accept the things they told you to ignore. You saw them in the corner of your eyes, shadows that loomed and disappeared when you acknowledged its presence. If you stared too long in a mirror or the river, you could see them on the outskirts of your vision. You heard the whistles, clicks, and whispers when you shut the windows at night. You repeated the names whispered to you when alone until you felt the words glued to your tongue.

Even now, twenty years later, your grandmother's words echo in the back of your mind as you walk her urn down the aisle amongst the pews of people. Little do they know what she has filled your head with, even as you set her urn on the table next to the priest, you tell yourself your mantra.  Since that day you've hated this church, hated your parents for forcing you here, but you played the role assigned to you. That's what your grandmother told you; be the perfect daughter, and one day the time will come when your faith will be rewarded. As you sit beside your smirking father, weeping mother, and fidgeting siblings you do not shed a tear. You will not cry here. The funeral goes as planned, people speak of stories because like you, your grandmother was a master of disguise. No one knew about the two of you sneaking off into the woods, and no one ever would. 

When the funeral ended, you pick at your dinner as your family scarfs it down like they are starving. Your father finishes first and his silverware clanks onto his plate, grabbing the attention of the table. He looks right at you with a wide grin. You would rather face a pack of ravenous wolves than be alone in a room with him.

"Well, now that dear granny is gone there's no one left to protect you." You don't bother looking away, you know he's right. Your grandmother was the only one who kept you and your siblings safe from his wrath and the archaic views this village holds, "and that means, tomorrow, I will go out and find a husband for you. You're almost 30, you should have been married off years ago like your brother. Ania, you better pretty yourself up. I don't have high hopes for your sister."

"Harold, Ania just turned 18, surely we can-" your mother begins. 

"Shut it!" He slams his hand onto the table making your mother and your siblings flinch back. 

Ania, your sister doesn't look up from her plate, she knew this day was coming the moment grandmother got sick. Farkus, your brother, is only a few years younger than you and got married to his high school sweetheart. He says nothing either, only reaches under the table to hold his wife's hand. You excuse yourself from the table and head toward your room where you lock and secure the door. It takes a few hours, but you know the routine; Farkus returns to his home, Ania is in bed shortly after dinner, your mother too, and your dad drinks himself into a sleep within two hours. Then you do exactly what you promised all those years ago. You had swapped your grandmother's ashes with dirt and bone bits from various animals, and her real ashes are tucked away under your bed. You take the plain box and escape through your window; you have secretly marked each trail you've taken. You cannot take the same trail numerous times, otherwise someone would catch on. 

You arrive to the stone, the whispers just outside your hearing guide you through the pitch-black night. You strike a match and light a small candle before burying your grandmother's ashes adjacent to the stone and beginning your prayer. The wind picks up and howls in your ears, but you continue your prayer, you bow your head and rest your forehead onto the dirt. There, for the first time, you hear them. The footsteps crunching on the fallen leaves, they are heavy, they are many, but you do not look up. You repeat the prayer until the footsteps stop right beside you, and you hear the heavy heaving of breathing. As you open your eyes and sit up on your heels, the creature is still there only as a shadow in the corner of your eye. You stare forward at the stone, at the mound where you buried your grandmother as tears unleash down your cheeks. 

"It's up to me now."

Chapter 1

[sailorsenshishitposter]

The anti Gojo fan club

"Are you sure you belong here?" Asked the oversized bouncer. Standing before him was a young teenage boy with pink locks and a school uniform.

"I think you'd be more comfortable at that place." He then pointed over to the club down the road (Weenie Hut Jr.'s).

"I think you have me confused with someone else. I'm pretty sure I'm on the list."

The bouncer then looked down and noticed four glowing, red eyes. He gulped and tried his best not to shit himself on the spot before moving aside and letting the boy in. Sighing in relief, the man let himself regain composure. It was then that he heard the most terrifying words in his life.

"Kenjaku, I told you that you were in charge of snacks! Honestly, I can't count on you for anything. It seems that I'M the one who has to do everything around here! Hey, you! How would you like to be apart of our dinner service instead of guarding that door?"

Sukuna said apart of as in literally. Everyone dragged the man in as the king of curses got his tools ready.

"Domain expansion, Malevolent Kitchen!"

______

Uraume was now busy cooking. They had a number of dishes in mind such as skewered intestines, "finger" sandwiches and some roasted thigh to name a few. As they were preparing the feast, the meeting began.

"Welcome, lowly peasants! Today marks our third annual villains assembly (totally not the bad guy version of AA that Gojo had forced on them). I see we have some new faces here. Care to introduce yourselves?"

A scrawny man stood up.

"M-my name is Ijichi and I joined because I can't tolerate Gojo's abuse any longer! He keeps spouting something about how "he's the 'honoured' one", and that's the reason why he's allowed to put kick me signs on my back and keep ding dong ditching my doorbell all night!"

The man then started to have a nervous breakdown and began to sob.

"There, there. You are among friends now.  You see, everyone here has a reason for hating the six eyed bastard."

"Not me. I'm just here for the free coupon tickets!"

Sukuna sighed.

"Who is the guy again?"

"My name's Reggie Star! I've been on TLC's extreme couponing! Why does everyone forget I exist!?"

"Reggie, we've been over this. This is solely for those that hate Satoru Gojo. If you can't abide by our clubs rules then feel free to leave."

Suddenly Kenjaku began to choke himself. Sukuna gave him a curious glance.

"Sorry, you know how my vessel likes to act up."

Sukuna nodded in agreement.

"We need to end this meeting in two hours or else the brat will wake up and spoil the fun. Now, is there anything else worth mentioning? Speak now."

"When do we get to play board games?"

"Damn it Mahito, you know well enough that those festivities don't take place until after everyone has eaten!"

"Hey, what is that!?"

Everyone started to notice a figure that was clearly trying to hide behind the throne but it was useless.

"I can hear your mosquito like voice already, Yorozu! You know the rules, no girls allowed."

The girl then popped out and began to pout.

"Then why do Mahito and Kashimo get to be here!?"

"For the last time, Mahito is a curse who has no gender and the consensus was that while Kashimo "looks female enough", he is indeed still male."

Mahito then decided to taunt her.

"Yeah! What's so cool about girls anyway!?"

"Didn't you wear a school girl uniform while fondling breasts you created?"

"That was one time Jogo, and it wasn't even canon!"

"I've had enough of this. Someone escort her out!"

Yorozu screamed and thrashed so Kenjaku released Kurourushi outside. She immediately ran after the cockroach so she could study it.

"Dinner is ready."

______

After everyone had finished, Mahito asked the question he had been dying to know the answer to.

"Which tastes better? Humans or curses?"

Kenjaku then appeared."Let me help answer that."

Kenny then began to drag a screaming Mahito towards his palm and then proceed to vore him down.

"Thank you! He was getting on my nerves."

Kenjaku began to savor the taste of Maximum Uzumaki and then proceeded to vomit the curse back up.

"I'd have to say humans. How did my vessel put it? You taste like a rag used to clean up shit and vomit."

Sukuna then joined in.

"So it matches his personality?"

"Correct."

Mahito was now trembling on the floor when the king of curses looked down upon him.

"Kenjaku, won't you be a dear friend and put on some karaoke for the entertainment? I want to sing skyfall."

Jogo lit his pipe up and started getting blazed. He had been waiting for the curse to get his ass beat.

"This weed is so good Hanami. Where did you find it?"

".ti werg I"

"Nevermind..."

______

"Wherever you go, I go. What you see, I see."

Mahito was now running for his life as Sukuna walked towards him. He thought about hiding in the bathroom but then remembered a word of advice he read on Yoshihiro Togashi's twitter account. "Never shit alone, for if you do, the horny clown will come to decapitate you!"

"Why did Gege have to put me in Shonen Jump!?"

Something then grabbed him by his collar.

"Found You!"

"Look, if this is about all those times I cheated when I was the banker in Monopoly, I'm sorry! Please don't kill me!"

"Oh, we're not killing you."

______

Mahito was now placed inside a pet crate.

"What's going on!?"

Just then there was a knock at the door.

"Nanami?"

"I didn't expect to see you here Ijichi. I'm here because I was told that there was a curse that needs to be euthanized. Fortunately, I'm kind hearted and believe that even the worst animals have a chance at being reformed. It just takes proper discipline..."

The cage began to rattle.

"NOOOO! ANYONE BUT HIM! PLEASE, HAVE MERCY!"

Kento then picked up the handle of the carrier.

"Expect to be eating out of a dog bowl and being kept on a leash once we get home."

Everyone failed to realize that the two hour window had passed and Itadori began to wake up.

"Huh? What's going on? Am I dreaming?"

The crowd wasn't sure what to do until Kenjaku stepped up.

"Hello, son. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I am your mother."

"Okay, I really am dreaming then. Something that crazy could only happen in my imagination."

"You're my special. You were the only one I didn't abort."

"Huh? No offense mister but you're really creeping me out. I think I'm just gonna head out."

After the boy left, Kashimo spoke up."

So how big was he?"

"Gross!"

Everyone knew that the god of thunder had a thing for the king of curses.

"All I'm saying is that they were identical twins right?"

"I've had enough of this filth! Youngsters these days!"

Out came a disgusted Gakuganji. He was clearly the biggest Gojo hater but it seems that he couldn't tolerate the crudness of today's youth. The club would never hear his guitar covers of Jimi Hendrix again.

[writingsofwesteros]

Rhaenyra and Laenor having a trueborn daughter together, but allowing Viserys and Alicent to foster her after the birth of Jacaerys. Laenor was hesitant and regretted giving his daughter up every moment until his "death", but Rhaenyra was convinced it was for the best of all their children, essentially neglecting her firstborn in favor of Harwin's sons. Rhaenyra loved her daughter, but knew with her around all the time her son's would be labeled bastards even more as their daughter took after Laenor a lot, sometimes being mistaken for a young Laena. Alicent becomes her mother and her uncles and aunt her siblings, them filling the void her parent and own siblings had left. When Rhaenyra would give her the cold shoulder or tell her it was probably a better idea to stand with her grandfather while being presented in feasts, Alicent was there to take her hand and stop her from picking at her cuticles. Though she was close to all her siblings, Aemond was always her little sweet boy that followed her around everywhere and would demand her attention all the time. He knew he was in love with her and going to marry her when he realized she never talked down to him because of his age and watched how kind she and welcoming she was to everyone despite seldomly getting the same effort in return. The night he loses his eye, she gets a deep slash in her palm and part of her collar bone from trying to shield Aemond. She lost some feeling in her dominant hand from how tightly she gripped the sharp end of the blade after the deed was done, sobbing for Aemond as her body didn't recognize the pain and instead focused on the survival instinct of keeping the blade from being used. That night cemented her place as one of Alicent's children when she made more of a fuss over the girl than Rhaenyra who turned it into a trial for Aemond, earning the girl's fury as she herself leapt up to attack the woman before Criston gently made her sit back down, gesturing to Aemond watching intently beside her. Years pass before the next time Rhaenyra sees her daughter and her sons their sister, but though it shouldn't come as a surprise, they are shocked to see her standing in a modest dress while watching Aemond and Criston. She refuses to even give them the time of day after Aemond is finished acknowledging them, only reappearing fashionably late to dinner in a vibrant blue dress (https://pin.it/FLsKaP2) that did little to hide her extremely swollen stomach. When she sits next to Aemond, she carefully pulls down his eyepatch with her left hand and gives him his usual kiss on the scar around the beautiful sapphire of his eye, him taking her dominant hand and kissing the scar with a smirk. He feels his nephews watching this intimate display with the mysterious sister they never were allowed to know, and makes sure to give them a show when he grips her neck suddenly, his veins showing as he pulls her in to swap spit a bit. Alicent coughs and asks what the maester said, making the girl pull away with a bright smile to announce that he was sure she was carrying 3 little ones this time. Alicent gasps and they begin gabbing about it, excited for their second set of multiples after her first being twins 👑💀

I BOW TO YOU! Adore this !

Aemond really just follows around like a puppy, bless his little heart and her trying to protect is so damn sweet!!

You know Alicent is enjoying all the grandchildren as well oopsie

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Pretty Girl [22]

"You are never allowed to leave me with him again."

I point an accusatory finger at Larry, making him keel back in his seat and scrunch up his nose.

"What the hell did he do to you?" Larry barks out, voice cracking beneath the weight of his tone.

I scoot onto a bar stool, watching as Ash pulls out a pan to cook dinner. As Larry's settling in beside me, ready to hear about the latest gossip, Todd walks through the door. It's been about an hour since Sal dropped his intimidation tactic on me and I haven't seen him since. Larry walked in with Ash mere minutes ago, the two of them giggling over their perfect timing.

I don't have even an ounce of giggle in me.

I shake my head at emo buff daddy. "I'm sure it'll be the first words out of that monster's mouth. Give him five minutes. Tops," I reply half heartedly, knowing full well that as soon as Sal realizes we're all gathered in the kitchen, he's going to come out and confirm everyone's suspicions about me.

Ash turns to me, string cheese hanging from her mouth as she says, "While the boys are out tomorrow, I'm taking you on a tour of Nockfell." She gives me a cute little half curtsy then turns back to prepping dinner, I guess.

She's used to Sal and I bickering at this point so the fact that more has happened means nothing to her.

"A tour won't be necessary considering y/n's already lived here."

I stay silent, watching the way Ash gives herself whiplash, mirroring the action with wide eyes. Larry makes a single sound, something caught between a screech and garbled choke. And Todd merely raises his brows a bit, setting his bag by the door and taking off his shoes.

Tongue in cheek, I stare straight into the kitchen, avoiding everyone's gazes even as Sal crosses my field of vision to steal the rest of Ash's cheese. I try not to watch the way he plucks the cheese from her lips then lifts up the bottom of his prosthetic to eat the rest. 

Ash's brows furrow, lips parted as if she's still holding her cheese, then whirls around to smack the back of Sal's head. The man hisses at the assault, ruffling his cerulean hair where he rubs his head to soothe the ache. 

"What the hell did you just say!?" Ash proceeds to bellow, her emerald eyes cutting into the Smurf's soul. Damn Travis for giving him that nickname.

"The obvious," Sal murmurs, buckling the bottom of his prosthetic back onto his face. His pretty face that I really wish I could see again.

This time, Ash doesn't snap back at him. Her eyes, still murderous, only hold Sal's gaze as her glossy lips press together.

"So," Larry hops into the conversation, seemingly trying to bite down whatever kerfuffle is brewing between Ash and Sal. "It's true then?" he continues. I turn my head, noting Larry's raised brows. He looks hopeful and a little... crushed all at the same time. "Why didn't you tell us all?"

My mouth opens to spew out whatever nonsense fills my head because he doesn't understand. And I don't know how to make him understand either. But I take a moment, snap my lips shut, and think about my response.

"We figured you'd tell us before Sal of all people." Todd's voice fills the hollow silence and that's when Larry's question finally clicks in my head. He didn't mean tell them all in general, he thinks I opened up to Sal about it before everyone else. It sounds like me hiding my identity doesn't even offend them in the slightest.

"I didn't tell this asshole a single thing," I bite out, gesturing to Sal who rears his head back as if someone finally told him he needs to repaint his damn nails. Offended. "He--" I purse my lips, trying to quickly reword this afternoon's events in a way that doesn't spell out the fact that Sal Fisher feasted on me like Thanksgiving dinner laid out on his gaming desk. I blink. "He walked out of his room, had an epiphany or something, and called me out by name. What was I supposed to do?"

It's quiet. Quiet in the sense that I could hear everyone's hearts pounding simultaneously if I focused hard enough. Up until: "I told her that we all knew. You guys were being nice about it and, well, I'm not. Case closed. Vi is y/n confirmed and now we can squash out the hiding and tiptoeing. Welcome to the real world." Sal's less-than-chipper, nonchalant voice echoes in the near silent kitchen as he explains himself, leaning against the sink beside Ash.

"Does Ash know though?" Larry raises an eyebrow at Sal and his expression is wary, concerned. Like he's afraid of the moment Ash squeals in excitement over this discovery.

Sal just gives his brother a bland look. "Brain, Lartholomew. Use your brain, not your cock."

Larry's eyes narrow. "I'll have you know that my schlong has never led me astray," he says pridefully. "But as for Ash," He turns his head and levels a glare at the beauty. "You didn't say a single word about this. What's up with that?"

It's my turn to cut in now. Ash isn't at fault here-- not a single bit of this falls onto her because all she did was exactly what I'd asked of her. She's been perfect.

"I asked her to stay quiet," I say, shriveling a bit as all heads turn to me, clearly waiting for an explanation. So I take a breath and tell them the truth-- at last. Shedding the weight of lying after dying to let it out and be honest for so long.

"A day or two before I came in as VioletViolence," I start, glancing between Todd and Larry. I'm talking to them-- Ash already knows the deal and I know Sal couldn't care less. "I watched the video where you guys talked about me. And I heard everything Sal had to say. I called Ash later, ended up having a short and quick chat with Sal--" I try not to aim a menacing glare at him while recalling the memory. "And then Ash... knowing that things kind of sucked for me in LA, offered to help me get started with streaming. You guys know I like games, she does too, so I decided to try it out. But in between that, I was terrified of Sal for whatever reason and didn't want to say who I truly was. What if he called me out online or refused to play or something? It just felt... it felt so dire," I try to explain, accentuating with my hands, desperate to portray what went through my mind. What led to this. "That I couldn't come out as myself. And I'm sincerely sorry for all of it-- for not being open with you guys sooner, for approaching the situation with a disguise to begin with. I'm sorry."

The words pour out of me and it takes every inch of my sanity not to fold in on myself. Admitting the truth is scarier than visiting the dentist. I should have just been honest from the start.

"So it's your fault."

I focus in on Larry who practically scowls through each word-- his head tilted at Sal and fury dancing in his pretty, chocolatey eyes. 

My eyebrows raise as I watch the stare down between both men, taking a mental note to bet on who would win. Maybe I can make a couple bucks.

Unfortunately, my bet is on Sal simply because he's normally incredibly calm with his responses-- unless it's him and I arguing, of course. "If it's any consolation," he says, watching Larry without an inch of fear in those azure eyes. "I kind of feel bad about it."

I suck in a quick breath as some kind of tie unfastens around my heart. It's not an apology, but it's an emotion. From Sal. From the aggravation and... acquaintance he's slowly turning into for me... that has ailed my soul for months now.

It's not an apology, but it means something.

"Then do better, Fisher," Larry warns playfully, smacking his lips. "Y/n's family. She's not going anywhere. You have to get used to it."

Sal rolls his eyes, slipping back into his usual, foul personality. "Joy," he blandly states. And like a phantom wind, Sal simply slinks over to the fridge, grabs another string cheese, then disappears into his room. No wonder he's so damn pale-- I have no doubt he has some kind of vitamin deficiency.

Todd sighs, breaking the temporary silence that had settled over us. And for what it's worth, instead of arguing that I'm not family, Sal silently accepted it instead.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The next morning, Ash has me up at the crack ass of dawn.

It's actually just 10pm, but it feels early enough considering Larry and I stayed up til 3am streaming together. We double-teamed heaping groups of poor, unfortunate victims in Among Us. It was really fun and our fans loved seeing us side-by-side on whoever's stream they decided to join.

Ash and I decided to spend the night too. Apparently, things didn't go down great at her house so she wanted to give her parents some time to cool off. I didn't want to pry, especially since it seemed like it wounded Ash too, so we pulled out the sofa bed and camped out in the living room together. The whole night, I could have sworn I felt something purring at my feet, but maybe it was just a dream.

I replaced my normal mask with a sleeping mask for the night. Doesn't cover as much but it's better than nothing, plus I had my head hidden under the blankets regardless. Either way, whatever I did managed to do the trick and no one discovered my other identity.

Both boys are apparently gone by now, having embarked on their own journeys that they claimed they had for the day.

"Come on, get up, time to go," Ash chirps like a mourning dove when all the morning glories begin to bloom. I am not having it, even as I follow her orders and change into some clothes for the day-- black skirt, Type O Negative merch shirt, and vans. Could be better, could be worse. Ash says I look 'smashing' though, even if the color of my outfit clashes with the violet of my mask.

When I walk into the kitchen, I grab a croissant resting on a paper plate and stuff it into my mouth for a quick breakfast. Ash grabs a crimson purse that looks like it costs more than my prospective college tuition would have, and gestures to the front door. "We're walking today, gorgeous," she tells me with a grin. "Nockfell's tiny. We get around on bikes or our feets."

"Feets?" I ask with a giggle, enjoying the cool breeze that flows into the house when Ash opens the front door. 

Ash nods proudly. "Yup. Feets."

So we use our feets and walk through the little town of Nockfell. It's everything I remembered it being-- a scene straight out of the Halloween franchise. Tall oaks shedding their leaves, glowing a golden brown and yellow in the dim sunlight. That is, whatever little sunlight manages to shine through the overcast clouds that threaten to spill their rainy contents every second.

The pumpkins aren't in season yet. The numerous, empty crop fields we pass on our trip onto main street tells me as much. But it's only a matter of time now, just a couple months until little pumpkins begin to pop up.

"For now, we're dropping by Henry's music store, mainly because I know you want to see it since you like music and all. After that, we can do whatever you want-- or just go home. Doesn't matter to me," Ash says as we finally reach Nockfell's main street. It's this one road that runs straight through the heart of Nockfell. The road that travelers take to get through the city as quickly as possible. 

I look over at my best friend, observing her wine colored lips that nearly match her purse, then her long-sleeved, grey crop top and black jeans. She's so pretty.

"Henry has a music store?" I ask once I remember that the goddess on my side spoke to me.

"Mhm," Ash hums, flipping her sort of short hair over her shoulder. "It's just a couple buildings away now," she continues, leaning toward me and pointing down the road ahead of us. I haphazardly glance, assuming that the giant record sign with an F in the middle is the store in question. 

Ash and I are walking into the store just seconds later. We hover near the door only until Henry catches Ash's eye. She launches into a speed-walk in his direction, but I admire the inside of the store before following.

Guitars of various types and colors litter the walls of the store. So many... so many that I can't even count. And then the floor houses different drums, add-on's for instruments, and a wide variety of records. It's stunning-- so much so that I swear I can hear seraphim singing all around me. Such an angelic thing to see; the makings of the best genre of music. 

When I snap out of my ogling, I walk over to where Ash is finishing up a conversation with Henry.

I smile at the man as he walks away from the front counter, moving over to help a young boy who's desperately trying to hold onto a guitar that's far too large for him. Sweet little thing.

I turn my attention to Ash who's chewing on the end of a pixie stick,-- I don't know where the hell she got it from-- gazing lazily at Henry's silhouette. Her eyes slide to mine, viridian irises shining in the various fluorescent lights that add a mystifying brightness to the space-y room. She gives me a bewitching smile, teeth imbedded into the stained paper of her candy.

With a smile back at her, I lean my elbows onto the counter I found her at and rest my chin in my palm. "Are we camping out with the boys again tonight?" I voice my internal question, watching as she purses her lips in contemplation.

"It's up to you," she murmurs, shrugging. "We've all been packed up for the most part since before we went to LA. We just have necessities to pick up— which, that's all at the boys' place because they all live together." I guess she's trying to avoid the topic of her parents. Her eyes glaze over me, thinking about the best option, no doubt. "We leave in two days— more than enough time to pack up their kitchen and get my boxes into a van."

"I'm fine with either option," I bashfully admit. I hate making decisions— I don't want to disappoint anyone, especially when I'm more than happy to do whatever.

Ash narrows her eyes at me playfully, scrutinizing me and my lacking decision lightheartedly. "I'll just ask Larry what he wants to do then," she chirps. Bless Ash and her ability to find a solution to everything. "Would you be able to put up with Sal for another night if we decide to stay?"

I snort. "Yea, don't worry about that. He seems to be the type to lock himself in his room for hours on end and never come out," I chuckle a bit as I think about how I was occupying a few minutes of those hours for him yesterday. "That means we'd hardly cross paths."

Ash tilts her head, lips quirked up lightly as her hair falls into her eyes. My fingers itch to push the strands away from the forest of green hiding beneath. "I think he's warming up to you," she counters my rationale with something so obnoxiously ridiculous that I nearly fall over.

"Yea, okay," I answer sarcastically, unable to hold back the crazed laugh that falls from my lips.

The music in the room suddenly grows louder, cutting off our conversation. Ash jumps out of her skin, eyes momentarily going wide. But then they narrow, brows bunched together as her gaze shoots to me.

"Why the hell is it so loud?" she voices my thoughts.

But that's the thing, it isn't just loud. It's suspiciously concert-like. "Is someone playing?" I ask, turning to see if Henry is the culprit— I hear guitar and drums. Someone is playing Save Me by Killswitch Engage beautifully.

Ash whips her head to the side like she got sucker punched. I watch as confusion flits across her features, and then stony concern. Clear apprehension exemplified by the pinching of her lips, but some frustration mixed in there too if her furrowed eyebrows are a hint to anything.

So I turn my head to look where she is too, finding that someone is playing. Well, people are playing. Todd's boyfriend, Neil, is going to town on a drum kit like a pro. I'd noticed the set up upon walking into the store but I didn't think it was usable.

I'm thinking Neil might play a big part in my life-- more specifically, he might play a big part in a very specific band.

And in front of him is a man with a guitar in his hands. A blue guitar and that red, gold, and black mask with music notes. Intricate, loud, mysterious. And I am one hundred percent hallucinating right now because why the fuck would North be in Nockfell of all places? The Faces' hometown or not, this is fever dream material.

"What the fuck." Words fall from my lips before I can really think better about them, my eyes darting over every inch of North's figure like an alligator staring at its prey-- probably something innocent like a bunny. I feel like such chaos compared to North who has been nothing but pure, sweet, and tender to me. But the way his fingers, clad in fingerless leather gloves, move along the strings of his vibrant guitar, his mask tilted down with his head as he watches his finger placement and movements, and the positioning of his entire body as he shreds through a guitar solo. What else is supposed to go through my mind other than unintelligible button smashing? My mental keyboard's letters are flying around my head like a fucking tornado.

A monotonous, mumbled reply from Ash makes me blink at the rockstar, my eyes never leaving his form. "Dark Autumn Complex recorded their music video here," she answers the question I failed to ask— she knows me so well. "I thought they'd left."

Tongue in cheek and heart racing a mile a minute, I say, "Why am I just finding out about this?"

"Because it didn't matter at first," she instantly replies, voice a tad louder. "But now I'm starting to wonder if what Larry said was true."

I gulp. I've been wondering about that too. About North's supposed crush on me. I assumed it was all in good fun, but Ash possibly finding some hidden truth in the matter makes my stomach feel queasy. And the queasiness isn't bad.

I bite down on my bottom lip, watching as North and Neil close the song, breaking off on a heavy chord before taking a moment to catch their breath. Neil wipes beads of sweat off his forehead, captivating smile enveloping his face and illuminating his mocha skin. Todd wasn't lying when he flaunted about his boyfriend being a complete catch.

North, on the other hand, lets his guitar hang from his chest and turns to Neil, uttering something quiet enough to the point that Ash and I can't hear. It's clear that the two men are communicating though because Neil is nodding his head in agreement, laughing heartily, and talking back to him.

I turn away, facing Ash who stands behind the counter. I don't need to get myself tangled up in another messy situashionship. Sal's more than enough in that department, plus North is too gentle for that. I wouldn't do that to him. I don't need all this strife and mess. It's probably better if I don't talk to North anymore, even if the thought pulls at my heartstrings a little too hard.

Ash is chewing on the inside of her cheek, eyes slowly roving around and growing closer to my own body. My breath catches in my throat as I contemplate what to do within the next few moments. My best friend looks anything but content and I know her eyes are tracking North's movements. Her calculated emerald eyes say enough.

My lunch leaps into my throat when arms cage me in from behind, hands resting on the counter on either side of me. I have, like, five seconds tops to decide on a plan before I address the man behind me and his very bold approach. Wow, never thought I'd be shooting down a hot guy like this.

I run my tongue over the surface of my teeth, tilting my head up a bit to find that fancy mask hovering over my body and showing off what looks like grey eyes that are solely focused on me.

My heart thumps like there are a thousand little miners embedding pickaxes into the crevices of the organ, trying to dig their way through to see what lovely minerals they'll find. It's almost too much— the little intrigued, shocked twinkle in the masked man's shaded eyes and the way his fingertips dig into the wood counter in front of me, arms encircling my body like a shield.

I slap a smile onto my lips, a smile that undoubtedly looks nauseated and a mess. But it's a smile. "Hi, North." The words pop past my lips and I thank my body's natural instincts for a moment. I always babble when I'm cornered and I appreciate that weakness at the moment. It might scare him off before I have to possibly break his heart. Hopefully it doesn't come to that.

My head tilts downward again and I carefully shift myself, turning my body around to face the man as he takes a step away. In addition, his head tips to the side almost as if he didn't expect me to speak.

So I keep speaking despite how badly I wish I could shut up now. The babbling worked a second ago but this consistency— I might as well consider myself a pile of vines wrapping my way around this poor guy's legs. I can't stop.

"My cousin thinks you're hot." I seethe on the inside, willing myself to just shut the fuck up. I've said all of seven words to him in the span of a full minute and it's already getting worse. "Can I get a picture of you to send to him?" Y/n, please, for the love of everything holy.

I'd never truly be able to explain the panic that coursed through me upon seeing him playing his guitar, but having him suddenly right in front of me has sent me into flight or flight mode. My fight instincts are to bargain my way out or yap until someone gets bored with me so... here we are.

Much to my chagrin, North fucking nods. This walking, breathing, living piece of sex on a stick nods at me to signal his agreement to a picture. And now I'm stuck and Ash can't see my face so she doesn't know the fear roiling through my limbs right now, taking over my brain and turning me into someone I'm not. Arguably.

So I lift my phone with shaky fingers and slap the most pathetically petrified grin on my face to take a quick picture of us and send it to Travis because now I have to follow through with the stupid last minute plan.

But things always get worse when it comes to me. I make a mental note to stop putting myself in tricky situations the moment that North moves beside me and stands so close that his arm has to wrap around my upper back and his chest is pressed into my shoulder. I lose every sense, falter for such a long moment that I forget how to breathe.

The warmth radiating through the right side of my body is intense, alongside the cool fingers gently pressing into the top of my left arm where his hand wrapped around me. I hear a sigh from behind— Ash.

His mask taps against the side of mine and I realize that I can just make out the sound of his even breathing. Quiet, muffled, unbothered. This is nothing to him— likely something he does with fans quite often. Does he get this close to them too? Is he this intimate with everyone? Based on how comfortable he seems, I'd guess this is routine. I'm nothing special— and I don't know if that's relaxing or the reason my own bodily functions haven't returned to normal yet.

I gulp, flipping my camera to take a picture of us together. I muster up the best little smile I can force, a slight tilt of my lips and squinting of my eyes. North presses his face a little closer against mine, the plastic of our masks causing a dull scratching sound that reverberates through my entire skull. A tattoo in the lonely, forgotten, impenetrable part of my brain that swore off any little desperate feelings of tenderness years ago.

I snap the picture quickly and bring my phone down, hastily clicking onto Travis's contact to send the photo. "Thanks," I shakily chirp to North, "I'll keep it forever." I say it with a subtle tone of finality, hoping that it'll result in him moving away... but he stays, chin on my shoulder as my quivering fingers hover over the keyboard.

Okay. I guess he's curious. He must be enjoying the way I'm very obviously squirming.

I type out a quick text before sending the picture.

Me: guess what :3 Me: (1 attachment)

Travis's response comes no less than a full five seconds later, the little text bubble popping up the way North popped into Nockfell today. I hate my life.

Simp for the Entire Male Population: BITTTTTCCCCHHHHH Simp for the Entire Male Population: Hold on, FaceTime me so I can show him my cock.

That brings me a little bit of joy. I snort at the message, noting that it's the exact moment that North finally moves— but it's not away from me, it's a laugh he's barely able to keep hidden, a snort just like mine if you will. I could love this man, I really could, but I won't.

And then he plucks my phone from my fingers which sets me into fight mode again, but this time I'll actually drop kick him. I have a lot to lose with my phone in someone else's hands— if he clicks out of my messages with Travis, he could see my real name somewhere. He could see my messages with my dad, hell, he could see my messages with Sal— that perpetually unsaved number sitting in my messages with his last text including the name Lexi.

A flicker of unadulterated fear and failure makes me feel as if I'll vomit, sweat building up on my forehead at the mere prospect. But North, he doesn't move my phone from my view— holds it out in front of both our faces as he types out a quick message that says,

Me: no doubt mine'll be bigger -N

I swallow past the dryness in my mouth. What a brave guy to test my cousin like that. Travis enjoys a challenge. I'm lucky that I'm family because otherwise I'd have an unwanted dick pic floating in, I'm sure. Maybe these two should exchange phone numbers.

Travis hasn't messaged back, but North starts typing again.

Me: post our picture.

He doesn't send the message, just leaves it there for a second for me to see. Then he holds down the backspace button, deleting the message entirely.

I blink. Once, twice, a third time before I fully process his message.

"You want me to post our picture?" I ask him, making the mistake of turning my head to look at him. And he's close, too close— so close that even he finally backs away, keeping a safe but friendly distance between us. He nods his confirmation while simultaneously allowing me to take my first breath of air without shuddering since he first walked over here.

North nods again, shifting his weight into a more relaxed stance, his hands in the pockets of his slacks. Dressed the same way he was at his concert. So Noah Sebastian-coded.

I nod back, wielding a mental knife that stabs and slices at the awkwardness I've caused. I can't stand myself— I shouldn't be like this. If anything, he should be. He's the one who called me his idol the other day.

Regardless of my current circumstances, I open up Instagram and post our picture, making sure to tag North and their band account. I don't bother putting a caption though. I don't have the brain power to come up with anything smart or witty. I don't have the brain power to come up with anything at all.

I post the photo then lock my phone with lightening speed and stuff it into my pocket. I don't want to be present when the comments and likes start to roll in, especially not in front of him.

My attention goes back to North who's still standing in front of me. He tilts his head down a bit, as if to show me he's pleased then takes a step forward. He moves fluidly, like a gentle wave in a calm ocean as his hand lifts and his fingers tap under my chin. It's a featherlight, minuscule touch that tilts my head up just a tad before he pulls his hand away again. A thank you, nice to see you, wish I didn't have to leave, and see you later. That's what that touch was. All in one.

He looks over my shoulder at Ash, offers her a wave, glances back at me then turns on his heel. And like he was never even here to begin with, his presence is gone-- disappeared behind a door labled 'Employees Only.' I feel like I went through something that dreamcatchers are supposed to keep at bay. The only remnants and confirmation that what I just lived through was real being the most recent photo in my camera roll, one that I don't have the balls to look at right now. 

And then my body betrays me. A fluttering deep in my soul makes me press a hand to my chest as if I'm trying to release trapped butterflies. Trying to scrounge up a lost breath, searching high and low for a medical explanation as to why my fingers tremble. Why my legs feel like jello. Why my stomach is twisted into knots that are too tight to unravel. Why my body feels so light, but my mental feels so drained. Why I feel drawn to chase that man behind the door while battling the internal faint feeling that has me swaying on my feet.

This feeling doesn't seem as terrible as it did when I felt it with Sal. The attraction. The tender affection that grips me in its ambrosia-drenched, quietly dangerous vices.

I stare at the empty spot where North stood just seconds ago. The spot that Neil suddenly fills up.

"Hey," he drawls in such a milky tone, pretty smile stealing my attention for just a moment. "You're Vi, right? I've heard a lot about you from Ash and Todd!" His umber skin, illuminated by the low lighting in the store, captures my gaze when just a singular bead of sweat drips down his neck and disappears beneath the collar of his shirt. 

I'll never say it out loud but, damn, is Todd a lucky man. I feel like I'm looking at a god of old age right now-- the type that's too perfect even for statues.

I suck in a breath and force another smile on my face. I'll worry about North later.

"Hey, Neil," I start cooly, offering the man my outstretched hand. "Yea, I am Vi but I'm also y/n-- not sure if everyone else told you yet. But, nice to see you again."

Neil's brows raise in surprise. "Ah, no, seems Todd left me out of the teacup this time." He chuckles lowly, showing off that handsome grin again. "I haven't seen you since grade school! How have you been?"

I shrug, smiling in turn. "Not really thriving, but surviving," I admit with a chirp, drowning in Ash's silence while Henry's chipper form grows closer to us.

Neil tilts his head and purses his lips as if to say that he relates. But when he speaks again, it's the last thing I expected to hear. 

"You know, I noticed you kept perfect beat with my drumming earlier. Do you play at all?"

My eyes widen a bit. I hadn't even realized he noticed me, nor did I realize that I was keeping beat with the song he and North played. A little breathless, I reply, "I've played for seven years. Haven't for the last year though because of my living situation, but..."

"Wow," he whispers, leaning closer to inquire in that smooth voice. "Seven years?" He puffs his cheeks, blowing out a breath. "That's... a while. Would you want to play?"

Where my chest felt filled to the brim mere moments ago, it suddenly feels achingly hollow. Play? Again? It's been over or near twelve full months since I so much as touched my drum kit that's been packed away in three separate boxes. I've ached to wrap my fingers around drumsticks again and get lost in the beat of a good song. 

But there's anxiety deep in my gut because it's been so long. I don't know if I can even still play anymore.

"I don't know," I tell him weakly, glancing over his shoulder at the immaculate drum kit. Set up and spotless, drumsticks resting on top of the snare. "I don't think I'd be any good. Not what I used to be."

Neil shakes his head exasperatedly. "Girl, you played for seven years. That isn't just a talent anymore, that's second nature. Drumming is breathing. You could lose both your hands and still find a way to play. Get get on that kit before I drag you there." His voice is aggressive, but in that loving, coddling type of way. Still aggressive enough to make me flinch into a quick walk toward that daunting drum kit in the middle of the room.

Ash, Neil, and Henry follow behind me as I round the kit and plop into the chair, staring down at the instrument that haunts me night and day. The one thing that kept me tethered to this world when nothing else could. Cymbals, toms, snare, bass. It's all here.

I chew on the inside of my cheek and delicately pick up the drumsticks, flipping one around in my left hand. The little trick I used to flaunt in high school. 

My eyes drag up to Ash who's watching me with stars in her eyes. She catches my gaze and clears her throat. "I didn't know you played," she rasps out.

"You know I like my secrets," I croon, tilting my head a bit. "Got a song request?"

"Well knowing you, it's all rock or metal," she snorts, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"You're correct," I snicker, waiting for a song name or band, something. I covered a lot of songs during my free time in high school. If Ash gives me the one hard song she knows, I'll probably be able to play it.

"Wherein Christine Daaé Becomes Her Own Phantom?" Ash asks, eyes narrowing as her face contorts into a nervous cringe. A Dark Autumn Complex song. Of course. One of their first from however long ago.

I giggle as confirmation, readying my sticks and giving myself a moment to think back on all the memories that Neil was right about. I've done this long enough. It is second nature and it always will be.

With the first hit of my drumstick, I fall into a bridge between dimensions. A bridge only available when I immerse myself, lose myself in the art that comes with music. Comes with creating and mimicking it. Time slips by on a breeze, slow but so death-defyingly fast. Quiet, but pounding in every inch of my being. 

And I only return to reality when I realize I'm nearing the end of the song, drawing off with a final note and staring at the echoing drums in front of me, my fingers numbing and sticks hot in my hands.

I missed this so much.

I don't have time to wonder how I did or feel stage fright because my lovely best friend takes that opportunity away.

Ash's loud, reverberating squeal drags my gaze up from the kit. My eyes meet her teary ones first. She looks so excited, hands curled underneath her chin as she grins brightly. Beside her though, the only really attention-grabbing figure is North who's resurfaced from his hiding place at the back of the store. But he just looks at me-- his dark eyes don't crinkle in a smile, he doesn't walk over to me or make a move at all. Just stands next to Henry who looks like he could cry with the kind of pride only a father can have. And Neil, he's at my side, I realize, when a warm hand clasps onto my shoulder.

I whip my head to him, gazing up at his much taller figure. "See?" he exclaims, gesturing to the drums. "I knew you had it in you. You need to get back on a kit and keep working. Don't give this up. You're really good." He gives me an encouraging smile that has my mind reeling with possibilities. 

That smile gives me hope. So I smile back at that hope.

As I'm standing to leave this gorgeous drum kit behind, I notice Ash angle a blinding glare at North beside her. The man doesn't acknowledge the expression, or her for that matter. When Ash looks back to me though, I wonder if I really did see a glare because she looks so happy, so filled with positivity. Maybe the look was in my head.

The woman comes bounding over to me, her dainty hand gently wrapping around my wrist. "Let's head home," she says, ditching her plan of letting me pick where to go next in the city. "I have to stop by the Nockfell Psychward first--"

"I'm sorry," I cut in, watching her warily. "The psychward? Nockfell has one of those?"

Ash waves me off. "Not an actual psychward, silly. That's just what we call our local grocery store. Filled with all kinds of people, customers and employees alike, who really need to be admitted." She looks off into the distance like she's reminiscing about something before her forest eyes clash with mine again. "Let's go!"

Ash begins dragging me out of the music store, the grip on my wrist going from gentle to dominating in a quick second. It makes me wonder what kind of rollercoaster her lovers must go through when it comes to her.

I turn a head over my shoulder, waving at Henry, Neil, and North who watch Ash kidnap me like this is a normal occurrence. All three wave back just as we disappear through the doors, but I watch North until he's nothing but a speck of dust hidden behind those tinted doors. Until we're already walking far enough down the road that I can see Nockfell's grocery store just a little ways away. Or, as Ash calls it, the Nockfell Psychward.

Ash and I are finished with our shopping trip within just ten minutes, the two of us holding three bags each on one arm and coveting hot coffee in our other free hand. 

Ash sips from her coffee, licking her lips clean of the brown liquid before she turns to me with something fiery flashing in her eyes. Our walk back to Sal, Larry, Todd, and Neil's place is just about five minutes as far as I've heard.

I match Ash's steps as she watches me, holds my gaze, starts brewing something in that beautiful, jewel-encrusted mind of hers. 

"Is there something going on that you haven't told me about?" She asks, an edge to her voice that makes my limbs lock up. I almost trip over my feet.

Does she know? About me and Sal? We've been careful, covered our tracks fairly well, as far as I'm aware. Maybe Sal's been talking? Maybe I'm overthinking? But for her to hit me with this kind of question...

"Uh, not that I'm aware of?" I force out through trembling lips, hoping that the veer-off from the truth is believable enough.

Ash's eyes narrow and I feel like I might dissipate into the afterlife right here on the side of the road.

"So North's infatuation with you is just... random." She states-- states, not asks-- and tilts her head forward like she can read the lies and truths swirling around in my head.

Oh, she's thinking that me and North have something going on.

I almost feel inclined to lead her in that direction-- to think that maybe North and I are involved so that it keeps her away from suspecting me and Sal. But I'm already hiding enough from her. Lying to her again, roping North into it... it feels unnecessary. Feels cruel.

"Yes," I say truthfully, taking a quick sip of my peppermint mocha. "I'm as confused and shocked as you are," I tell her, gesturing with my cup. "But I'm not opposed to it either."

It pains me to watch the grim expression that takes over Ash's face, the way she pinches her lips together like she knows she's going to disappoint me. 

"It's..." She trails off, looking up to the cloudy, grey sky as she tries to find the right words. "It's... odd. The whole thing is weird." She jerks her head to the side as if to take back what she said, but adds to the statement instead. "I know it's not my place to get involved, but it just doesn't sit right with me. It's so... just..."

"Wrong? Random? Unnecessary? Misplaced?" I fill in the blank for her, voicing my own thoughts on the matter. These words have been plaguing me regarding North's sudden focus on me. I'm nothing but the dirt beneath his feet-- so why is he into me at all?

"Well, now that you say it," Ash starts. "I can tell why he's interested. You're beautiful with a stunning and selfless personality to match. Literally, who wouldn't fall for you?"

I smile at my dear friend, red painting my cheeks from her words. I don't have a response, not when she's completely countered both our thought processes. 

"I'll just bully Sal about it since they're close," she quips, shrugging. "I've never seen North go for anyone but fuck buddies and I don't want that for you, so I'm gonna get the message to him in some way. I'll make sure he knows of my wrath."

We walk a little ways farther up the road, turning into Sal's driveway. I'm so immersed in what Ash has said that I nearly miss the very well cared for '67 Camaro parked beside the house. It's a little worse for wear, shows its age, but the black paint is fresh, glistening. It's clearly loved.

My guess is that it's Neil. He was the only one who wasn't at the house yesterday-- he probably beat Ash and I home. 

But I focus on Ash as we walk up the front steps to the house. "Just don't hurt his face," I joke to her, watching as she turns the doorknob, pushing it open with her hip. "I know he's pretty beneath that mask."

"How do you know that?" Ash snorts, setting her three bags on the table. I follow suit.

"All masked men are hot," I say, shrugging. "I know North is going to be beautiful the same way I knew Sal would be."

Ash snaps her head to look at me. The action is so quick that I wonder how she didn't snap her neck. "You think Sal is beautiful?" She asks, her words a grating, exasperated shrill.

I wince, watching her with furrowed brows. "I'm stating the obvious," I argue, holding my hands up in surrender. "I mean, come on, he's a handsome man with a pretty face."

I mean those words. I've meant them every time I've said this. Sal has such a nice face-- scars and all. 

Ash seems to contemplate, those viridian eyes roving over me the entire time. "Yea...true," she finally settles on, "Sal is pretty." But there's something in her gaze that says she's wary.

Movement seems to catch Ash's eye the moment she utters those words, because she snaps her head forward again. Her neck is really going to hurt later. But I follow her gaze, coming to the horrible realization that Sal is just... here. He's leaning against the edge of the kitchen table across from Ash and I, watching with those haunting sapphire eyes.

I don't have words. They've failed me. Someone needs to put me out of my misery.

"You," Ash practically growls, pointing a finger at Sal like it's a Sith Lord's lightsaber. Her voice is menacing, holding a fuck ton of hidden, murderous desires. "Put your friend on a fucking leash."

Her seething words make me take a step back. The sheer, bloodthirsty undertones take me back to the conversation we had on the way here. She told me she'd bully Sal about North, but maybe she only put up that front to keep me off her tail. So I wouldn't freak out or tell her to leave things be. Because the way she's stomping over to Sal right now, getting in his face with a nasty scowl taking over her features, says that maybe she really is angry and put-off by this whole thing with North.

Sal looks down at her, prosthetic face perfectly masking his emotions like it always does. His eyes do a great job of holding up that nonchalant expression as he carefully says, "If my friend did it and I didn't, then there's no reason for you to come at me like this." Those words are meticulous. No yelling. No anger. Just... words. But that alone seems terrifying, especially when he adds, "Back off."

Ash concedes to his request, taking a singular step back to put some space between them. My body grows warm beneath the tension, the pressure of watching these two stare at each other-- one hot-headed and ready to knock the shorter one down, and the other the complete epitome of calm aggression with no fear in his stance.

"I'm serious, Sal," Ash warns. I've never heard her so grave before. "He's playing with fire and if he adds anymore fuel, the results won't be pretty. Talk to North. You need to talk to him." She takes a deep breath, harsh voice softening a bit. "And you tell him that I said he needs to figure his shit out and leave y/n alone. Because I know him. And I know that he's going to play her like a fucking fiddle if he isn't threatened."

Oh. So when she said that North only had fuck buddies, she meant that she doesn't trust him with me. Even if she doesn't realize that I'm in some kind of shituationship with the man right in front of her-- fuck buddies-- whichever it is. She's just looking out for me, obviously, but that assertive stance she's taken against it... I can't help but feel like letting her dig a hole for this blooming thing between North and I is the best decision.

Sal doesn't reply to her. But he does stand a bit straighter, puts his hands into the pockets of his sweats. And then his head turns to me. 

A dark ocean of endless blue meets my gaze as he asks in a low, authoritative tone, "What did he say to you?"

The question catches me off guard. The way he articulated the words, the tone he used. All suggesting someone playing a protective role. It sends that fluttering feeling through me again.

My mouth goes dry as I battle my own mind, fighting for the right thing to say. But I don't know what to say. Between Sal making me feel things I shouldn't and North leading me into a corner, I'm stuck.

I subconsciously shake my head, mouth gaping like a fish as my heart pounds wildly in my chest, my body still warm with anxiety. "It's-- He--" I falter, swallowing thickly before I try again. "It's nothing bad, per se." I shrug shakily as Ash turns her head to assess me too. "Some flirting online, and-- and we took a picture today. He grabbed my chin. That's about it. It's really... not a big deal."

"Wait, he's been flirting with you online?" Ash asks, emerald irises zeroing in on me just as her voice grows harsh yet again. Even Sal tilts his head, eyes narrowed.

Ash walks over to me and I already know what she's silently asking for. Proof.

It may not be a big deal to me, but if Sal is actively getting involved... maybe it's bigger than I think.

So I pull my phone out of my back pocket to show her our interaction from a couple days ago. But it turns out I don't need to.

The very first notification on my phone, among a few others, is from North. A comment under the picture I'd posted of us.

dacnorthxx: pretty girl <3

My lips part in surprise at the same moment Ash lets out a grumble of frustration behind me. 

And Ash, ever the leader and queen that she is, leaves my side and walks up to Sal again. She puts a predatory hand on his arm, fingers gripping his clothed skin. 

"Handle it," she seethes from behind clenched teeth. "Or I will."

---------

A/N:::::::: hi my sweet babies :3 I'M SORRY IT'S BEEN SO LONGGGG and i hope this chapter is okay too! i've been daydreaming about it tbh, i LOVE it but i always feel like i can never fully portray my thoughts with words sooooo

so-- a couple things before i leave you guys for the night: 1.) spring break was not very restful for me so i've secluded myself to self-isolation. it's been really hard for me to even message family back. between forced proximity with the man who assaulted me and never getting a moment to rest, i've just been to myself. i apologize for that because i know many of you have been messaging me and commenting. i'll be getting back with everyone as soon as i remember that i'm in charge of my life, i pinky promise! thank you for sticking around <3 2.) i've been trying to follow you guys' recommendations! i appreciate seeing the tips you guys have for me because it prepares me for the future and helps to improve my writing. thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the help! that being said, one of the things i'm trying to do is limit the amount of detail i put into certain things. too much detail gets boring, so i'm trying to drive away from that. because of this, i feel like the chapter might be lacking. so, to further my own progress, please let me know how you liked the chapter AND tell me something i can do better!! thank you >.<

anyway, i've been fucking FLYING through the ACOTAR series lately. i'm on the second to last book and close to sobbing over it :,) but it has kept me very sane these days so definitely go give miss Sarah J. Maas a shot if you haven't yet!!

i feel like there's more i want to say but i can't remember??? i'll just put it in the comments if i do remember~ ANYWAY!!! thank you all for the support, the love, and your presence. i love you all so infinitesimally much and i am eternally grateful for you. have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night! MWAH <3333

[ecargmura]

The Yuzuki Family's Four Sons Episode 4 Review - Hayato Deserves The World

Man, this episode really hit the feels. I shed some tears during the second half of the episode. Having Hayato as the last of the brothers to have a spotlight episode really shows off how and why he is the best character of the show. Saving the best for last really does factor here.

Hayato goes to his high school reunion, but gets looked down upon by his former schoolmates and classmates once he mentions how hard his life has been raising his three younger brothers. After overhearing some girls gossiping about how he’s like an auntie, his emotional stress gets the best of him as he leaves the party. Fortunately, he is able to voice out his concerns towards his neighbor, Saki Kirishima who happens to be Kojiro’s daughter and Uta and Waka’s mother. As she is a single mom of two, she is able to give her wisdom, which helps Hayato feel better.

First off, the people at the reunion suck. They made me a bit frustrated. I know that they’re still young as they’re in their early twenties, but looking down on Hayato for raising his brothers shouldn’t be a thing. Those floozies were just gold-digging, so I’m grateful they flew away before Hayato grew an interest in them; they’d totally send his brothers away if he were to get married to one of them. I hated how none of them come to Hayato’s defense, even that Miyan guy. I think what Hayato is doing is an amazing feat that no one else can do. He has a job, but also takes care of his three young brothers who are all sweet and kind. It’s hard to raise one kid, but three? Everyone really is missing out on Hayato’s greatness. Man, I felt so bad when those girls were gossiping about him and calling him an auntie.

During his little “mama party” with Saki, he tells her why he is so dedicated to his brothers. It all stems from how he didn’t have much growing up due to his mother constantly working and his father being a nameless author. Only once his father sold something well that his life got better and that the money was able to let them live in the nice house they currently live in and what allowed his parents to have three more kids before their passing. Once Mikoto and Minato were born, the dining table started having elaborate menus compared to his simplistic meals from before. He once said to his baby brothers “It must be nice having a feast every day.” After dinner, his mother held his hands and apologized for not being able to do the same for him back then. Man, that hurt so much. While his mother’s way of raising Mikoto and Minato isn’t right, I do not think she’s a bad mother at all. Sure, she was a bit biased towards Minato, but she still cared a lot about Hayato and in turn, the eldest respected her a lot with how much she sacrificed so much to provide for him during his younger days. That was the reason why he chose to shoulder all of the responsibilities after their passing. He loved and respected his mother and that was why he wanted to honor her. Damn, Hayato is THE brother and THE son.

I love how important the Kirishima family is to the Yuzuki family. Like how Kojiro is Gakuto’s best friend and how Uta is Minato’s bestie, Saki is like Hayato’s confidant in a way. They both raise kids, so they both know how hard it is at times. In fact, I’m really glad that Saki was there to console Hayato and tell him how amazing he is for his dedication. Her wisdom was amazing, seriously. She never once belittles Hayato. She even compliments him on being able to make bentos so good that Uta wants her to make them. I wonder what happened with her husband since it seems that she’s raising her kids on her own with her father Kojiro. Did he die? Did they get divorced? I do wonder if the Kirishima family will get some spotlight in the future episode.

The last part of the episode was really emotional. His brothers celebrate his birthday. Just this scene alone shows the fruit of Hayato’s hard work. Mikoto, Minato and Gakuto are very sweet and respect Hayato a lot. It takes a lot of hard work and dedication for that to happen. It would’ve been disastrous but also easier if all three were unruly or rambunctious, but they’re not. Since Mikoto’s currently thirteen and his birthday is in April and Hayato’s 24th birthday was in this episode, this means Mikoto and Hayato are actually 11 years apart. That would mean during Mikoto’s flashback from Episode 2, Mikoto was 5 and Hayato was 16. Man, the whole birthday scene got me into tears because it shows how much Hayato loves his brothers even after all the emotional stress and negative thoughts he had prior.

Now that all four brothers had their time in the spotlight, where will this show head towards? I’m worried about whether there’d be a possible imbalance between the brothers’ spotlights going forth, but since this show is so adorable, I don’t mind. I’d like to see more of these brothers doing cute things together. In all honesty, I’m excited to see what the rest of the episodes will be about. What are your thoughts about this episode?

[queenlua]

amusing bits from Martin Luther: Renegade and Prophet so far:

* "What sparked [Luther's] anger, so he later reminisced, was the preaching of a Dominican friar, Johannes Tetzel, in the nearby town of Jüterborg, who went so far as to claim that his indulgences were so efficacious that even if a person had raped the Virgin Mary they would be assured complete remission from Purgatory." used car salesman-ass strategy lol

* "...the wealth of material that has survived on Luther is so great that we probably know more about his inner life than about that of any other sixteenth-century individual... His collected works, the famous Weimar Edition, extend to 120 volumes, including 11 volumes of letters and 6 volumes of his dinner-table conversations"

holy FUCK. truly a poaster before his time. like would the median tumblr blog fill 120 volumes jeez

* "In the early years of the Reformation, for example, [Luther] talked constantly of invidia, or envy, attributing it to his opponents—though it is hardly likely that they would have envied a penniless, powerless monk, while he, on the other hand, had every reason to be preoccupied with those he envied." lmao. mean girl who goes "they're just jealous" every time ppl hate on him

* "Extraordinarily, in an age when letters were routinely passed from person to person, were forged or intercepted, and when every chancellery filed drafts, Luther kept no copies. This gave his correspondents huge power, because they alone had records of what he had written, but Luther was relaxed about this, joking that he could always deny his own 'hand,' a remark that reveals his remarkable confidence."

i will have to look into this later but this is lowkey fascinating??? it hadn't occurred to me the 16th century world would've, like. written out copies of every damn thing. to support audit trails and such. just because the overhead of producing all those damn copies seems really high. suggests fun possibilities for intrigue and mailfraud shenanigans lol

* "It was popularly believed that when of the counts [in the town where Luther grew up] commissioned an altarpiece for the chapel depicting the Crucifixion, he had the thief on Christ's right painted as his most hated co-ruler

LMAOOOooo. also reminds me of the funny story that the tobacco magnate who funded the creation of Duke University Chapel asked that the stained glass depict the 12 desciples smoking cigarettes, and the dude had to be talked out of it... though i can't find any reference to the story on the internet, sadly. did the duke chapel tour guide MAKE UP LIES to me

* Luther grew up in a family that owned a mine & it's sort of hilarious how bad all these 1500s miners were at economics. they're like. running whole mining operations but with only the haziest idea of, like. where capital comes from. how to not resource trap your way into fuckedness. etc. i dunk on economists a lot but y'know there are some concepts here that actually were p worth formalizing

* our dude Luther was a fucking DRAMA QUEEN let me tell you:

"[Luther] joined the Augustinian order in Erfurt on July 17, 1505 [...] Luther sent his academic gown and ring home to Mansfeld, telling his parents he had drawn a line under this part of his life. He sold some of the fine legal textbooks his father had bought him and donated others to the monastery. Then he invited all his student comrades to a lavish meal, with music and entertainment. At the height of the party, he told his shocked companions of his decision to become a monk, announcing melodramatically, 'Today you see me and never again!' He then left for the monastery, accompanied by his sobbing companions." bet those dudes never forgot that party

* though Martin Luther's dad sure could match him for drama queen-ness (and apparently never stopped resenting Luther becoming a monk instead of a lawyer):

"At the ensuing feast to celebrate [Luther's first mass a priest], for which Luther's father, always the man for the grand gesture, had given the sum of twenty guilders, the breach was still evident. Luther asked whether his father now accepted his decision, and in front of everyone at the table, Hans Luder replied, 'Remember the fourth commandment, to obey father and mother.' 'What if it was an evil spirit' behind [the storm that convinced Martin to become a monk]? he asked. It was a very serious charge, made at a point where Luther had just acted as Christ's representative on earth for the first time."

* Luther was in one of the more hardcore monkish orders, and said order had a pretty rigorous schedule of prayers that involved waking up in the middle of the night... but apparently you could just pay other monks to pray for you if you just Didn't Feel Like Doing It one day? lmao. and in particular Luther did the strategy of "i'll just get them done ALL IN ONE DAY" instead of, like, doing them throughout the week (going without food or sleep, working that day & night to get them done)

* our dude could definitely be a poor lil meow meow / woobie if fandom got their hands on him. this boy is constantly having literal panic attacks about WHAT IF I MISINTERPRETED THIS PART OF SCRIPTURE AND NOW WE'RE ALL GOING TO HELL, when he's in Rome one of the things that bothers him the most (besides the famous indulgence thing) is the fact that they SPEEDRAN masses over there and he's like "oh no though, i spend SO MUCH time on the masses i run, i'm so afraid of doing it without true feeling... who are these speedrunning fucks with no respect goddamn," his confessor gets tired of him because he'll spend UP TO SIX HOURS AT CONFESSION agonizing over shit that doesn't matter... (this is part of the reason he went into academia, actually, his confessor was like "boy you have got way too much anxiety for the purely monastic life, go get a degree or something i stg")

* i do kinda love it when theologians get sexy with it:

"[Staupitz] wrote of different 'stages' of union of the soul, the first being that of 'young maids in faith,' the second that of the 'concubine,' the third, the 'queens': 'They are naked and copulate with the naked one. They taste that outside Christ there is nothing sweet and they enjoy [his] continuous sweetness. For the naked Christ cannot deny himself to those naked,' while in the fourth stage, which Mary alone experienced, Jesus 'sleeps naked with her naked and he shows other signs of such love.'"

[boldlyspeedydreamerreturns]

this is a very silly request but could you write a Helluva one shot about the characters decorating for a party only for Blitzo, Fizzaroli and Stolas to all get distracted by inhaling helium balloons and joking around together with squeaky helium voices?

feel free to add any other characters you want like Ozzie or Loona for example

Aww, this is silly, but yes, I can do it. 👍

At Asmodeus' palace, Blitz and Stolas are running around with Fizz trying to get everything set up quickly. Fizz smiles at the two.

"Thanks for helping me put together Ozzie's surprise birthday party. He always makes a fuss that he's too old to celebrate his birthday, but I love to spoil him."

*Stolas and Blitz both nod.*

"It was our pleasure, dear Fizzarolli. Asmodeus is a good friend, of course we were happy to assist."

"Yeah, plus you went all out on dinner. Who knew big Ozz had such a thing for comfort food?"

Fizz grabbed the helium tank and started blowing up more balloons. He then got an idea and chuckled to himself. He got Blitz's attention.

"Hey Blitz, remember this?"

He took a puff of the helium.

"Howdy boys and girls. It's time for the clown parade!"

Blitz burst out laughing. Fizz started marching in a circle, singing in the high pitched helium voice.

"Yes today, yes today, yes today is the clown parade. Grab your shoes, grab your nose, grab your friends and here we go~!"

The two couldn't stop laughing, falling over themselves as they almost couldn't breathe anymore. Stolas watched them curiously for a minute.

"Is this...a reference to something? I'm afraid I don't get the joke."

Blitz stopped laughing just enough to talk.

"Growing up in the circus, to drum up business my dad would make all of us walk around town in a "clown parade" it was so stupid. He would suck in a bunch of helium and sing that damn song."

He started laughing harder again, which made Stolas laugh too. Fizz took another hit of the helium.

"Blitzo, how many times do I have to tell you, don't throw too much confetti. That shit ain't cheap ya know!"

They all started laughing harder, not even noticing that Asmodeus had returned. He watched the trio amused. He looked around and saw the mostly finished party, as well as the fabulous dinner.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Fizz, Blitz, and Stolas all jumped when Ozzie spoke. Fizz grinned and jumped into his boyfriend's arms.

"Ozz, you're home early! Happy birthday, babe."

Asmodeus couldn't help a chuckle as Fizz still had the high voice. They kissed, then he smiled at Stolas and Blitz.

"Did you two help him with this silly plan?'

Stolas nodded happily while Blitz was still trying to compose himself from laughing so hard.

"Indeed we did. Fizzarolli asked us to assist in getting your party set up. Surprise! Happy birthday, Asmodeus."

Ozzie felt a swell in his heart. His boyfriend, and his two newest friends all coming together to give him a surprise like this.

"Thank you, Stolas. Now, let's eat before the food gets cold. I see some baked mac and cheese that's calling my name."

The four all sat down at the table, enjoying the small feast that was before them. Once dinner was finished Ozzie enjoyed opening his gifts and chatting with everyone. It was a nice evening. Nothing big or extravagant. Just a simple, fun time with people he cared for. A while later Stolas and Blitz both left, leaving Ozz and Fizz alone.

"This was perfect, froggie. Thank you. I love you so much."

Fizz nuzzled Ozzie and kissed him tenderly.

"The night's not over yet. You still have one more gift. But it's in the bedroom."

Asmodeus had a good idea of what this gift is. He took Fizz into his arms and started towards their room. The night was just beginning for them.

[elemit]

A Gift, A Curse

A story in which we discover just how damned an ascended vampire can be, and just how far you will go to save the spawn you loved.

Read in full on AO3

dead dove/not beta read

fic warnings: Abuse, Angst, Biting, Blood and Gore, Blood Drinking, Bondage, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Food Restriction, Hate Sex, Horror, Mental Coercion, Mind Control, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sexual Coercion, Torture, Total Power Exchange, Trauma, Vampire Bites

Chapter 5: Forever

Forever, it seems, is a lesson in patience.

When you first came to, Astarion had been by your side to hold you through the wracking spasms, to stroke your hair as you wretched up more bile and blood than a body should be able to hold, to clasp your hand as you wept through the rush of conflicting emotions as the last remnants of your living self died within you.

He had handed you your first goblet of blood as soon as the twitching and nausea stopped as if he’d known that you would instantly be overcome with a seemingly unquenchable hunger. At the time you were too ravenous to ask where it had come from, but he has since convinced you that he has several willing sources to sate your new taste for blood.

“It’s much more simple, really,” he says when you bemoan your new diet of blood and wine. “No need for cooks or kitchen maids.”

You do have cooks and kitchen maids, of course. Astarion is enjoying regaining his mortal appetites. Every evening you sit down to dinner together, and you find you cannot stop yourself eyeing the feasts you find laid on the table with a jealous twinge as you reach for one of your two cups of red.

But he managed this in reverse, you tell yourself, for the entirety of our travels together. It is really not much of a burden to bear.

The hunger, though? That is a hardship you’re not sure you can endure. It is a constant thorn in your side. The physical pain of it leaves you curled and cramping on the floor on bad days. Sometimes the respite of a cup of blood only lasts an hour or two. Sometimes it gives no relief at all.

“It will get better in time, my love,” Astarion tells you. “But you see now why I needed to make you my spawn first? This way, if it comes to it, I can compel you not to harm others. Imagine the danger you would be if I wasn’t able to help you.”

It makes perfect sense, of course. You don’t need persuading. You feel so lucky to have someone by your side who can guide you through all of this. You stop asking him when he will transform you into a true vampire; you know you are not ready. You scare yourself, sometimes.

One day, he comes to you with a ring.

“We should be wed,” he says. “We are bound by something so eternal already, but the city will not understand our love until it has been declared through their banal system.”

He does not kneel. You do not mind. From the snatches of memory from your childhood that you have seen, you do not think you were ever the kind of girl who dreamed of a romantic proposal. Besides, what is more romantic than the love you already have?

You accept the ring with sincere thanks. Thanks for his love, and for this everlasting life, and for his taking care of everything as you go through this latest change.

The wedding preparations begin immediately, but mostly without you. You are too often confined to your room with fits of blood-hunger. You are happy, though. You are excited.

The fact that you have no idea when you will be able to feel the warm sun on your skin again makes your chest tighten with a greater sense of loss than you have ever felt. 

[evita-shelby]

Feast

Vampire!Luca au

Cw: blood,murder, allusions to sex, torture, some gore, dark themes

No minors 🔞

“Have a taste, amore.” He gave his woman a taste of their dinner in a long kiss before letting her have Linda Shelby all to herself.

He would drink them all dry.

Luca tosses Arthur Shelby’s body aside like one of his children’s dolls once he and his bride are done.

He had already taken John and his family, Michael and the hospital staff, Polly Gray, Finn Shelby and the whore Angel died for, Arthur’s sweet wife, their little son and now him after he had seen the rumors are true.

Ada had been the first, in Boston where he seduced her in her apartment and drained her of her savory blood. She had fought him when she realized he was not looking for a fuck. It had not mattered, Luca’s been a demon of the night for a long time now.

Only Tommy and his little bastard boy remain.

Luca couldn’t wait until he sank his teeth and drank the damned blood of an innocent child. Next to lustful virgins, a child conceived in sin and born in treachery was the vampiric version of fine dining.

He would kill him in front of his father, like he had done with Arthur’s boy and John’s horde of brats.

Nothing like being helpless to your own child’s suffering. It flavors the blood better than lust or the sins you carry from birth.

Tommy Shelby and all those who remain in his gang would make a fine victory feast.

But Tommy was not the main dish, no, that was the woman who started it all: Grace Shelby.

Grace Shelby who faked her death when she saw there was no future with Shelby and sought greener pastures with the Russian Duchess. Tatiana Petrovna who had satisfied them enough to get them from glittering Paris to the filthy place that turned him into the monster he is now.

Grace Helen Shelby was marinating in pain and anguish in her gilded cage back at the hotel.

Even Thomas and Charles Shelby's blood wouldn’t compare to hers, the woman who started it all.

“If you are a good girl, I will let you have Mrs. Shelby.” He tells his darling wife as the other vampires in their army remove all traces of their sumptuous dinner.

[tropes-and-tales]

The Kindness of Strangers

December 22:  Stocking/Hum - Meet-Cute (Dave York x F!reader)

(From the winter prompts found here)

CW:  Slight angst; mention of character death; implied illness; meet-cute; soft sad dad Dave

Word Count:  1441

AN:  Requested by anon!

One of the worst parts of moving is how stuff gets lost, which is why Dave York finds himself in a mall weeks before Christmas, trying to find decorations.

His temper, usually cool, is frayed.  The girls are in school, at least.  The mall is crowded, full of crying babies and loud holiday music piped in over the intercom.  It’s a damned weekday and somehow the mall is full, and his temper is unraveling, and when he checks the mental list in his head, he despairs at ever getting everything finished in time for the holiday.

“Fuck it,” he finally mutters to himself.  He marches to the nearest department store near and makes his way to the holiday area.  He knows it’ll be picked over, but will the girls really miss the elaborate garlands his wife used to hang up?  Will they really miss having three different manger scenes throughout the house or the light-up reindeer in the front yard?

He doubts it.  They are still deeply grieving the loss of their mother and the loss of their friends in their old school.  The move cross-country was necessary:  a fresh start in a new place and a new home, but also a new job for him.  The only parent now, Dave York’s gone completely straight and taken an intelligence role with a branch division with the DIA.

He doesn’t need the money, of course.  He has Carol’s life insurance policy, still mostly intact even after the medical bills were settled.  He has the profits from the sale of his old home.

He has the tidy sum of money offshore from his less-than-noble work.

But that’s done now.  A fresh start.

A fresh start without Christmas stockings doesn’t count, though.

*****

You bought your house last December, and your first Christmas in your new home had been spartan:  a feast of take-out reheated, surrounded by unpacked boxes.

Over the course of the year, you made the house your home.  Painted walls, unpacked your boxes, settled in.  Over the summer, you adopted a shelter dog, Max.

You are determined to make this Christmas better.  A party with friends, a dinner for those of you who have no families or are far from home.  And yes, you are one of those people:  you plan to spoil your mutt.  You already have presents for him, and now you just want a stocking for him to hang over your fireplace, to fill with treats—

You find the holiday section of the store.  This late in the year, it’s picked over and sparse.  There’s sad leftovers:  bent rolls of wrapping paper, chipped figurines, tinsel shedding its glitter and fibers.

The stocking section is pure carnage.  All of the ones with embroidered initials are in a pile, and all of the popular letters are gone.  You see five Q’s, two W’s, three U’s, but no M’s—

You sift through the pile, dimly aware of the man in the aisle with you.  He stands back, scanning the shelves, and you ignore him.  You hum along to the music playing over the intercom—

There.  There.  You see it, a fucking unicorn.  A stocking with an M embroidered on it—

You reach for it.  You snag one end of it, but then another hand reaches out too, grabs the other end.

The man in the aisle with you.  You look up and see him, see him attached to the arm attached to the hand holding the stocking you’re trying to buy—

You both drop it.

“Sorry,” you both say, and you both do the same awkward chuckle, give the same tight smile that is the hallmark of social awkwardness—

“No, sorry.  You saw it first,” he says, and he plucks the stocking from the pile and holds it out to you.

“Thanks.”  You take it, try to even out your smile into something more natural.  You lift your shoulder in a half-shrug.  “It’s for my dog.  It’s his first Christmas,” and when you look closer, see how handsome this stranger is, you feel the heat flood your face at your embarrassing admission.  You sound like one of those people, the sort to call your dog your son and put him in a goofy sweater and make him his own social media profiles, which…you only have one sweater for him.  

“That’s cute.  Has your dog been naughty or nice?”

Your face burns even hotter.  “Naughty, but he gets a pass.  He’s a shelter dog.”

“What’s his name?”

“Max.”  You finger the tassel on the stocking, the thought occurring to you a beat too late.  “Who’s your M?”

The man smiles at you, his brown eyes warm.  “Molly.  My daughter.”

“Oh!”  You take the stocking from your basket and hold it out to him.  “Fuck, take it.  Sorry, didn’t mean to swear but…a kid?  No, take it.”

He holds his hand out, pushes your hand away gently.  “No, you had it first.”

“No, seriously.  Please.  I’d feel terrible if I ruined some kid’s Christmas.  And, I mean…Max won’t know any better.  He’s confused by the Roomba.  He won’t know the difference on an initial.  I’ll just get a blank one, no harm.”

He hesitates, and you can see that he wants it.  That he’s just being polite.  “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.  Please take it.”

He does, and he looks down at it.  “I appreciate it.”  There’s something in his voice, a tone that says this is a bigger moment than you realize.  There’s backstory you are unaware of.

“Sure.  Yeah, no problem.”

He lifts his head and looks at you, smiles again.  “You didn’t happen to see an ‘A’ in that pile, did you?  For my other daughter, Alice.”

“Actually…”  You turn, rifle through the pile again.  “Yeah, here.”  You pull it out and hand it to him, and his smile turns to pure relief.  He practically sags in relief.

“You’re a life-saver,” he tells you, and you wave him off, aware that he’s going through something or dealing with something and you’re just a stranger who was kind in a single moment.  Though sometimes, a single kind moment from a stranger is all a person needs.

*****

Dave doesn’t mean to make it weird.  A stupid thing, to get choked up over a stocking.  To feel a sudden flood of emotions—sorrow and grief and hope and faint optimism, all at once.  The loss of his wife, raising his girls alone now…he thought he was adjusted to his new reality, but he guesses he’s not quite there yet.

And yet, here is a person, a stranger.  The holidays can bring out the feral side of people, but they can also bring out the good, which is what you’ve offered him.  A stranger with nothing owed to him, yet you graciously hand over the thing you’ve come to buy, and you smile as you do it.

He doesn’t mean for the words to spill out.  A stupid thing, to tell a stranger his business.  How far he’s fallen since his days as a mercenary, when he had every emotion carefully under control.

“Their mother died,” he blurts out, instantly horrified by what’s coming from his mouth.  “We just moved here.”

“Oh no.”  Your eyes widen in sympathy.  “I’m so sorry.”  

“I don’t…it’s fine.”  He chuckles, a little bitter.  “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“I have one of those faces.  People just tell me things.”

“You should work for law enforcement then.  Work on getting confessions.”

You smile, shake your head.  “Nah.  I don’t like guns.”

You each stand there for an awkward beat of silence, and he starts to turn to leave, gives you another tight smile.  Something about the moment or something about him hits you, and you reach into your purse and pull out a piece of paper.  You hand it to him—a business card.

“This is you?” he asks.

“Yes.”  He reads it—you’re a music instructor.  You give music lessons.  Pretty far from law enforcement after all.

“It has my number.  My email.  You’re new in town, and if you need anything…”  You trail off, bite your lip.  “I’m just realizing how that sounds.”

He slips it into his pocket.  He spares you the truth which is, yes, it sounds like you’re hitting on him.  Giving him your contact information.  Him, a widower and father of two motherless daughters.  

“It sounds neighborly,” he says, and he smiles at you.  Because it is neighborly too, and he knows that now more than ever, he needs his new neighbors.  He needs friends; he needs people who are kind instead of feral, who do a simple nice thing for a stranger.

[stars-tonight]

Emoji: 🛸(UFO emoji)

Matchup Kind: Long and romantic please!!

Characters I don't wanna be paired with: Just nobody childish please, okay? Thanks!!

Gender/Pronouns: Girl, she/her! Girl or guy: Either one is fine with me =D

Ideal Partner: In a partner, I look for someone who can balance me out. Someone who's sweet and caring and kind of soft, but also has a bit of a chaotic side like I do. I also love someone who's good at comforting others, someone supportive.

Description of myself: I get easily distracted. I'm a procrastinator and I get distracted a LOT, though when it really comes down to it, I can focus well if I need to. Very creative, always daydreaming. I'm an optimist, though sometimes I can worry about school stuff/get stressed over it, that doesn't happen often. I'm very spontaneous, always looking to try new things. I'm extremely passionate, and curious too(my family calls me a chismosa, though I don't actually spread gossip- I just listen in on it). I'm a bit hyper, very impulsive, and yet somehow a bit lazy at the same time. I'm open, honest, and stubborn too.

Hobbies: I like to play video games, write/read, and draw a bunch!! I also love to collect stickers and put them on every surface possible, including my own face occasionally. I also like watching horror movies at nighttime knowing damn well it's a bad idea. I also watch cartoons too though.

Love Languages: I love giving affection, endless amounts of PDA, and I love to receive the same!! I like giving and receiving compliments too.

Ideal Date: Fast food picnic. Basically me and my partner go to a fast food place, pick up a feast of junk food, then go to a park or a rooftop and sit there, eating and talking about our interests, lives, plans for the future, etc. I just think it would be a really fun thing to do.

Likes: Animals, planning for the future, singing, Literature Class, Computer Science Class, CONSPIRACY THEORIES

Dislikes: BUGS, being bored, studying, math

Other: Let's see... my MBTI is "The Debater" though I can never remember the exact letter combo. My Hogwarts house is Hufflepuff I think, my Divergent Factor is Amity, my PJO Cabin is Apollo, and my spirit animal is a Hummingbird.

Thank you for reading this request, hope you have a fantastic day!! =D

headcanons

🥛 i thought of kuroo first for you because he's very emotionally intelligent

🥛 like he can adjust himself to fit in with people, and that means he's always a good person to be around and is a great mediator and leader

🥛 meaning he'll be able to perfectly balance you out; i think he's an ambivert so he's got a quiet side to him but is also kind of a mess at times

🥛 kuroo also strikes me as a spontaneous guy and this definitely translates into your daily life together, as well as on dates

🥛 your personalities are similar so i feel like you'd instantly connect and mesh well

🥛 he definitely likes playing video games (he does it all the time with kenma) so you'd definitely spend HOURS playing a game together, whether you're on the same team or playing against each other lol

🥛 he doesn't strike me as a horror lover but he'd totally be down to watch something with you

🥛 probably points out all the logical plot holes and berates the characters for being dumb lol

🥛 kuroo would absolutely shower his partner with compliments

🥛 i forget if i've ever commented on his stance on pda but i think he's not the type to shy away from it, although he wouldn't randomly jump on you and have a twenty minute makeout session in public either

🥛 he likes a fancy dinner date every now and then but there's something super intimate about french fries and milkshakes on a rooftop and just talking about your dreams together

🥛 which i never thought of this before but now i need to do

🥛 okay but he would totally be obsessed with various conspiracy theories (wild science ones for sure!) and would spend hours with you finding the weirdest ones on reddit or something

🥛 he'd love playful banter about all these theories too

🥛 he knows you don't like studying but it's important (you can't tell me kuroo isn't valedictorian), so he'd force you to have study dates with him

🥛 but he will for sure help you out with any questions you have

🥛 and he's a REALLY good teacher

runner up for you was sugawara kōshi!

A/N: hi 🛸anon! thank you for your request (it's been about a month since my last matchup i believe!) and i hope you enjoyed your match!