#god bless him for dealing with stuff that was WAY above his pay grade

[cath-lic]

st joseph (god’s stepdad) is so funny to me because i imagine that his reaction to just about everything in the New Testament was just

[mxvladdy]

Unrepentant: Chapter One

Yoz! Finally, I sat down and edited this! (Yaay I'm slow as fuck)

I loved writing Diavolo's True Form piece (Located Here) so I wanted more and really to write this headcanon I've had since he was introduced! It is suggested to read his true form before this but you do you and live your best life.

Anyway idk how long this will be but all the true form stuff will be in this fanfiction :)

Hope ya like!

Word Count: 4k

Rating: General

The Devildom moons glint high above you outside your bedroom window. Their perpetual radiance casting dancing shadows across the walls. The solace of your empty room envelops you like a warm hug. It pulls the stress of the day away off your shoulders leaving you sleepy. Dropping your book-laden bag to the floor you flop face-first into the freshly washed sheets of your bed.

Exam season was rolling in fast and all of the academy was gearing up for the students' and teachers' inevitable breakdowns. From personal experience, you saw firsthand what happens when a demon gets stressed out. Even the lesser demons you know can cause some major damage when they reach their boiling point, though it pales in comparison to the havoc the big seven cause. Just yesterday Beel lost control in the middle of cram school after the teacher refused to let them out on time for dinner. Poor Lucifer was still scrambling to pay for the damages and trying to find a replacement in time for next week's lessons. Then, on the same day at the other end of the campus, Satan all but totaled a classroom in a fit of rage after another student dared to try and correct him. Bless the Old Gods themselves that at least Levi and Belphie were easy to deal with during these times. They were both book smart and beyond capable with their studies, they just lacked the wherewithal to put the effort in. Well, Belphie was more guilty than Levi when it came down to it. Most of the time Lucifer could be seen dragging Belphie to class by the ankle, face stormy with rage. It was humorous to watch-just from a distance.

As for you, you figure it was best to just be out of the direct line of fire. One too many brushes with death in the Devildom for your comfort. During this time of year, it became almost a sport. You got really good at dodging large pieces of furniture and spells during exam week when the brothers finally start coming to blows. Not that you fault them, they were just letting their aggression out as any good primordial being would. But, the lack of sleep and constant fear of annihilation by bookshelf is murder on your grades. After a few meetings with Lucifer and Diavolo, you all decide you should stay in the palace till after exams.

The palace.

You smile softly to yourself tracing a thumb over your clavicle. Your finger ghosts over the healing black marks running down your skin. It was rocky at first, rebuilding your relationship and trust, with Diavolo after your "run in". He acts like you were made of spun glass and eggshells, physically trying to keep as much distance between the two of you as possible. All the while you had to butt head with seven of the strongest and most bull-headed men you had ever met. Their protectiveness towards you tried your patience in ways you never expected. It took what you are pretty sure was your guardian angel to finally get the brothers to relent. With Simeon acting as your chaperone you start to live again. It was nice to finally feel comfortable around the demon again. Seeing him return to his normal candor and temperament again was a breath of fresh air. Thinking of him makes you flush, the cool air of your room burning your cheeks as you recall all the stolen evenings in his and Barbatos's company. All the hours spent laughing at their outlandish assumptions of modern human social norms while they tried to guess if they were correct or not, and then there were the nights where it was just you and the prince. He was nothing but cordial and proper, just conversations between two friends.

A nice glass of port and dinner...maybe an errant brush of fingers when there was no need to touch a time or two. Perhaps a gaze held too long to be considered appropriate.

You groan into your pillows, feeling your heart flutter. You couldn't deny he was fascinating, and yes, perhaps you were a little infatuated with him. Who wasn't? You say it on the daily how other demons fawn over him. He is one of the strongest of their kin after all. Power is a huge part of the Devildom hierarchy, and he exudes it in spades. To a demon, he is the peak of their ideal. Yet, to you, from a human perspective, you enjoyed his personality and jovial nature. It was a side very few got to see of him and you cherish each moment you got to enjoy in the privacy of his quarters.

Of course, watching him crush an unruly usurper without a second thought was kinda hot. Hmmm-

A sharp rap at your door startles you. Was it time already? "Door's open Simeon!" You yell over your shoulder grabbing your robe and go behind your room divider to undress.

"Good evening!" The angel chirps entering your darkroom. With a wave of his hand, he lights your fireplace. The bright flames dancing to life to chase away the cold of the perpetual night.

"Show off." You come back around your divider to face him. He shrugs with a bashful smile offering you the tray he brought with him. His lithe fingers grab the few bottles he needed, leaving the rest for you. You unscrew the lid on one of the jars of salves specially crafted for you. You inhale, humming in delight, and the fresh scent of honeydew and lavender wafting up at you. "This one is new!" You beam dipping a finger in your eye the soft green goop. It was warm to the touch and made your finger go numb.

Simeon nods, twirling his hand in the air to make you turn around. "You mentioned stiff joints last night so I made something to help." His hand strokes over your back while he mutters to himself. "This is healing up nicely, though the color is becoming more opaque." You nod in acceptance. The curse- taint- whatever it was when Diavolo injured you hadn't stopped at just mental damage when it struck you. It took root on your body, burying itself deep and spreading through you like an uncontrollable flame. It wraps and twists itself around your arms, shoulders, and sides joining and merging with itself to rest around the tender skin of your neck. You found it beautiful in its own right. Like those ornate chokers in Levi's animes or the ones Mammon wore in some of his high-end modeling shoots. Yours was just as gorgeous but very permanent.

"These are coming along nicely," Simeon remarks looking over your back. He rubs some of his sweet-smelling ointment into your sides. He traces over some of the more intricate lines, they radiate power heating his celestial skin in a way you could not sense. The marks pulse in warning, threatened by his celestial power. Simeon frowns, taking his hand away. "It looks like Lucifer marks have been consumed completely now too."

"Really?" You crane your neck trying to see Lucifer's mark at the base of your neck. It figures Lucifer's was the last to be consumed. Solomon had hypothesized that since he was the eldest and thus the strongest it would make sense that it would take longer for Diavolo's blight to consume it. So far he has been correct.

Over time you watch as all the brothers' marks were taken over. Their bright colors bleed out to be replaced with an iridescent black. It was a little unfortunate since you loved the colors of their marks, but there was nothing you could do about it.

Simeon hands you a jar over your shoulder while he inspects the growing marks on your back. "I increased the dosage in this, your arms were still itchy, correct?"

You nod, taking the jar. You grimace as your nails scratch the delicate glass. Your skin wasn't the only thing that physically changed after Diavolo's magic took root. Your nail plates gleam black now, no longer clear and flimsy like human nails normally are. They are sharp now with lethal tips. They could gouge stone like it was tissue paper and even pierce the hard shell of a demon's skin. Beel had been impressed by the nick you gave him during P.E. It healed quickly so no harm was done, but it frightened you still.

Tutting, you shoot your fingers a scathing glance. As a defense mechanism, this new addition was great, but daily life was a pain. Your hands tore through everything if you weren't careful. Delicate pillows and sheets were kept far away from you lest they turn into ribbons. It was beginning to look like the brothers had adopted an unruly cat let loose in the halls.

Asmo fussed over you for days trying to figure out the best way to care for them. He wasted some nice clippers on you until he landed on a heavy-duty nail file. Your manicure only lasts a few days at best, but it was better than turning your pillows into pin cushions. Aside from your skin and nails, you could see better in the perpetual night of the Devildom. The blue haze of the twin moons is cleaner now. Every surface their light lands on shines like a beacon illuminating farther than you could see before. Gave Mammon a good scare walking the halls in complete darkness, you didn’t need a light anymore just the moons.

It was utterly fascinating to you, and Solomon. The mage takes every opportunity he could to poke and prod at your changes and charts them down with feverish excitement. So far, much to his displeasure, you show no more magical prowess than when you first arrived in the Devildom but he was certain you should. For now, no one knew what to expect so you were to just monitor yourself and check-in with Solomon and Simeon daily till they deemed this settled.

"There," Simeon finishes examining your back and neck, making sure he covered the entirety of each mark. "Looks like everything is in order. I'll leave you to rest for the evening." He wipes his hands helping you back into your robe before tidying up the small mess he made.

"You sure?" You ask following him to the door. "I feel like we haven't hung out for ages! I could fetch us some tea." You smile up at his soft face. You miss just hanging out with him. As of late all he has been to you is an on-call nurse. It would be nice to talk with him and Luke about something other than you for an evening.

Simeon smiles but shakes his head. "Perhaps tomorrow, Madame Scream has a few new cakes out this month. Luke has been talking my ear off about them and I'm sure he would love your company too." He eyes the door knowingly. "But for now someone else wishes to steal you away." He bids you goodnight then, leaving you clasping the doorknob and looking about into the pitch-black hallway.

It's in the moment you lock your door and turn to crawl into bed that someone knocks on your door. Your heart leaps in with an indiscernible emotion before beating fast with excitement, your brain following along slowly after it. You couldn't stop the smile crossing your face as you made your way back to the door. Something deep within you knew who it was. "Dia!" You swing the heavy door open and hug him tight. The moment your body makes contact with him you feel amazing. The grind of the day is gone, chased away by his warm arms encircling you. "I thought you were busy all evening?"

He chuckles swaying from side to side. "I was! But, what kind of prince would I be if I didn't throw my weight around every so often?" He leans down and nuzzles his face in your crown. He smiles into your hair. You were smelling more and more like him each day, it was titillating.

Dia breathes deeply taking in your sweet clean scent and savoring how his smokey amber smell was mingling with it. It was faint now, perhaps only strong enough for him, Barbatos and Lucifer can discern. Soon though lesser daemons will take notice of his scent mingling with yours. He makes a quick note to tell Simeon to look into a stronger ointment, it will be needed soon. Diavolo pulls away, clicking his tongue. He glances down at where your nails punched through the thick fabric of his waistcoat to graze his skin. "Do you have time for a drink? Barbatos went topside today and purchased a bottle of whiskey barrel age wine. It smells simply divine ." His gold eyes glance up to the large grandfather clock in the corner of your room. It was far past polite visiting hours, but he couldn't give less of a damn, despite the warning of his closest circles.

The nobles were beginning to notice how much he favored you and thus the court was beginning to talk. They were beginning to question his loyalty to the goal of the program, his fascination with one mere human raised concerns throughout his family members. "Why are you spending so much more time with that one?" They ask claws and fangs clinging as they nash and hiss at him, so many of his bloodline still refuse to use glamour believing it was an insult to their heritage. "They are of no importance, playing favorites could lead to a disaster for your crown." He knows many of them would love that.

For him to lose his neck and the crown so the old ones could rule again was a dream for many of them. Diavolo grimaces inwardly, they weren't wrong either. He was infatuated with you. Even Lucifer was beginning to express concern. While having you and the program was raising his ratings and the morale of the general populace, those of royal blood were beginning to create factions again. So far many were loyal, but the ones starting to make waves were the oldest in the circle.

He had plans in place of course, pieces on the board ready to move at a moment's notice. It would be messy when it happens and with you still in his kingdom...such actions were best to be avoided. No, for now, the brothers were enough protection from potential defectors and nay-sayers. He will do as he pleases, especially when it revolves around you.

"That does sound good," You agree tapping your chin in thought. It's been ages since you last drank a human liquor. All Diavolo's ports and sherries, while delicious, did not affect you. You missed the warmth that settled in your stomach after a good drink. "A good drink could calm my nerves. Give me a minute to change?" You step back into your room to scurry back behind your room partition leaving the massive demon to stand at your doorway.

"Nerves? Do you need more time for your finals?" He lumbers in coming to stand by your bed. He licks his lips staring at your rumpled bedding. It was still warm from you sitting there with Simeon. Deep down in his stomachs turns detecting the cherry sweet scent of the angel covering your sheets. He wanted to rub his body on the bedding, erasing that weakling's scent from what was his- He pulls himself back forcing his fangs back down. He trusted Simeon, no one was better suited for healing demonic wounds than an angel.

The prince observes your shadow scurrying about behind the paper screen. "There!" You jump from behind the screen in an oversized shirt. The fabric drapes down to rest just past your knees, the sleeves long and folded several times. "Ready to go?" You come back to his side slipping on your slippers.

"But of course!" He offers you his arm. "Though I am perhaps a little overdressed for the occasion, no?" He ribs, teeth flashing in jest. You accept his arm squeezing it tight and look him over dramatically.

"Yes, very much so...What good is a nightcap if you are still dressed in your day clothes?" You tug at his pressed white tie. For the first time that day, Diavolo laughed freely.

The walk from your room to his was a long one but filled with idle safe conversation. You jump from talks of the upcoming garden parties to what this week's lunch menu will be. Neither of you was blind to the prying eyes and ears lurking in the shadows of the corridors. You were unfazed by them now after months of coming to visit Diavolo and Barbatos during the evening. You became accustomed to their judgmental gazes and gossip over time. You nod politely to one of the visiting earl's and his entourage. They pass, many eyes looking you over curiously. "Earl Jan and his entourage have taken a liking to you." Diavolo rumbles watching the demons wander off to one of his many smoking parlors. "He finds your many human idioms and stories refreshing."

"Really? I have classes with a few of them they-"

"Young Prince." Diavolo stiffens by your side lurching to a halt. His hackles rise.

"Pleasant evening Lady Marquess?" The prince calls out not bothering to even turn around to acknowledge the baroness. You turn though curious as to who drew such vitriol from the normally genial demon.

The baroness scuttles out from where she had been standing, the shadows around her falling off like an elegant cloak. Her pale mandibles click in distaste when your eyes meet hers. Her hundreds of spider-like eyes latching onto you unblinkingly before flicking to Diavolo's tense back. "You missed our meeting on the upcoming festivities. I have some more requests on the dress requirements for the ball." She pauses head listing down to look at you again. Even without lips, you could feel her scowl of disgust. "It would be good for your little pet. Their dress attire at the last one was... lackluster."

Bull. Asmo and Levi had designed your outfit for the last ball. It had been amazing, the crowds looking on with jealousy and lust as you clung to Dia's arm. You don't have to look at Diavolo to feel his displeasure. "Such asinine topics like that can wait till tomorrow." He sniffs pulling you closer. His free hand comes up to grasp your hand around his bicep. “Good night Madame.”

You keep your eyes forward letting Dia escort you. The Marquess hisses quietly under her breath, something dark and biting in their native tongue. Diavolo goes rigid in head-snapping about inhumanly fast. The temperature in the hallway drops.

"Dia." You call in warning, breath wafting up in great puffs from the chilled air. He ignores you, turning his full attention to the interloper. He replies in turn voice simmering with rage. She wilts, head tilting down into a mockery of the usually appropriate bow when speaking to him. Beneath the fringes of her bangs, you could see a smirk playing on her lips. She struck the exact nerve she was looking for. "Dia," You pull on him more adamantly. "Come please?" His shoulders loosen at your words. His gold eyes drifting down to look at you.

"We will speak of this later matrona." He leaves the matter at that leaving with you in haste. The rest of the walk is tense, his eyes now darting to each shadowy corner in case another guest jumps from them.

"I apologize for that." Diavolo sighs the moment the doors to his private quarters close. He loosens his tie and tosses it to his smoking chair by the fire. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll be out in a moment." He smiles at you before disappearing into his bathroom.

You take a seat kicking off your slippers to dig your toes into the plush hide of some animal you didn't know the name of and pour out two drinks for you and Diavolo. Waiting for him to reappear you eye the treats laid out on the table next to you. They looked too good to ignore. Popping a few tarts into your mouth you groan at the sweet citrus and mint creme that coated your tongue. Your ears twitch at the creak of the bathroom door.

Burly arms drape over your shoulders as Diavolo bends to nuzzle your neck. "Too good to wait?" He chuckles. You flush hyper-aware of the sugar cookie crumbs on the corner of your mouth.

"You said help myself." You reply after swallowing.

The prince hums. "That I did." He raises a thick finger up to collect the crumbs around your lips. "Ah- Barb outdoes himself again." He licks his finger coming around to take the seat next to you. Diavolo busies himself for a moment propping his feet up on his footrest and taking the drink you prepared from the table along with a good handful of sweets. Despite his casual demeanor you still could feel his agitation thrumming through your markings.

"I'm sorry." You blurt out. He looks up at you with a frown. "That confrontation in the hall, what the Marquess said was about me wasn't it?" You didn't know what her heated words meant, but the context of the exchange was quite clear.

A glint of pain flashes through his golden gaze. Diavolo goes for his drink, downing half of it in one large gulp. "You have nothing to apologize for. " He licks his teeth deep in thought before dropping his head back with a grunt. "What are politics like in your realm? Are they all-" He waves his glass vaguely.

You sit for a moment thinking hard on what you remember of human politics. "Most countries are no longer run by royal families. Though they still have a lot of sway with laws and the like." You take a sip. "But, back when royal families were more prevalent I would say they were like this." You mimic his little hand wave with a little smile.

"Homicidal and power-hungry?"

"Quite so." You chuckle looking into the fire. "Perhaps I can take you on a mini trip to go visit some old palaces?" Diavolo perks up intrigued.

"Where do you have in mind?"

"Maybe Italy?"

His eyes grow dark. "And why there?" He bites out. You shrug feeling as though you just crossed an unspoken line.

"Just-well. Your name, at least in human culture, is Italian, and you slip into it so casually. I thought you would like it..."

"I am not looking for you to humor me." He cuts you off. His glass thunking heavily on his oak side table, amber liquid sloshing over the side. "I get enough of that from the court. I only wish to spend time with you." You acknowledge him with a faint nod curling into your seat. "Ah-no, no mi giglio." Diavolo reaches for you, scooping you up to sit in his lap. "Forgive my agitation. If it is somewhere you wish to go then I would be happy to take us... The south is beautiful this time of year I hear." A shuttered look crosses over his eyes before he blinks it away. "Shall I get started with preparations?"

He pulls you in closer, your heat seeping through the thin layers of clothes separating the two of you. He feels you melt into the soft planes of his body. His closeness soothing the itching of your bandaged and oiled skin. Dia falls silent listening to you nod off on his lap but does nothing to stop you. Closing his eyes he instead enjoys the feel of his pseudo mark upon your body vibrating in harmony with his magic. Stroking your neck and spine he is unable to control the flood of unwanted memories bubbling to the surface of his mind. As you sleep peacefully unaware of your wishes he spends the rest of the evening watching the flames die down, lost in a waking nightmare.

[loverontheleft]

Next Round’s On Me

AU!Brendon x reader. Inspired by a post from @warmbeebosoftbeebo: (these are excerpts) “where’s the fic at where’s he’s a hairdresser/cosmetologist? (it was what he was gonna do if they didn’t want him to stay in panic/panic didn’t work out)...also stuff like him as a nurse, massage therapist, secretary, waiter/bartender/barista, customer service phone operator, etc. fics where he lives in a shabby bachelor apartment…” Oh my dear, ask and ye shall receive 😍

I know y’all wanted the AU!Brendon in college with the high sex, or RtL 30, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about this.

Word count: 4.9k Warnings: pretty vanilla. Fluffy at times, oral, maybe some mild dirty talk? language, sex with a condom, etc.

-||-

You’ve been sitting at this bar for a solid hour and you’re only drinking water. You check your phone again, hopelessly, and flip it over, screen down, and swear under your breath.

The bartender approaches- again- and looks at you curiously. “You still waiting?” Bless him, he’s got a water pitcher in his hand.

You look at him and shrug. “I don’t think I’m waiting anymore; I think now I’m processing the fact that I’ve been stood up.” He sets the water pitcher down and frowns.

“You?” He’s surprised and you’re not sure what to do with that. “Sorry, it’s just - you seem nice enough and you’re pretty and you don’t give off any crazy vibes...so…” he shrugs, pushing his dark hair back into its elaborate-for-a-bartender coiff. “I just don’t get it. He’s an idiot to not show up. Sorry if that’s too...whatever.” He blushes a little. “I’ll just-“ and he gestures awkwardly behind him and starts to leave.

“No, stay,” you say suddenly and he freezes. “I do want a drink now and I didn’t plan on drinking alone, so let me buy you a drink for being nice. I am a catch and he’s an idiot for standing me up.”

He grins, relaxing into his familiar role and reaching under the bar for two shot glasses. “I’ll drink to that. But this one’s on me.” He quickly rims the shot glasses with lemon juice and sugar, eyes darting to yours to make sure you’re good with a lemon drop and you nod. He quickly mixes the vodka, lemon juice and simple syrup before expertly slicing a lemon into wedges and sugaring the wedges. He slides one across the bar to you and you accept it gratefully. He raises his shot glass, taps it against yours, saying, “to knowing your worth and value,” before the two of you each take the shot.

“Damn,” you say, after sucking on the sugared lemon wedge and watching him suck on his, “that’s the best lemon drop I’ve had. I know it’s not a hard recipe but - damn.” He smiles appreciatively and you can’t quite read his face as he clears the glasses off the bar. There’s a silence and you study him as he sets the glasses in hot soapy water. He’s handsome, you decide, remembering the little thrill that went through you when his lips closed around the lemon wedge. He’s handsome and you don’t want him to leave. The bar is mostly empty anyway; it’s just another couple at the other end of the bar and they’ve been giggling and holding hands, playing with each other’s fingers and kissing for long lengths of time - basically it’s nauseating and you wish they’d just leave. You turn your attention back to him and he meets your gaze steadily. “So,” you say slowly, “tell me about yourself.”

He grins. “Mama said don’t talk to strangers.”

You roll your eyes, laugh a little, and hold out your hand. “Y/n.”

He takes your hand and shakes it playfully. “That’s what I hoped you’d say. Brendon.” His voice is smooth, you realize, and his eyes...well, you might already be drowning in their depths. “And now that we’re not strangers,” he says, “I can tell you about myself, if you still want to know.” He ends with a little uncertainty in his tone, and you smile.

“How fucked up would that be, to introduce myself and then decide I don’t care and just leave?”

He shrugs. “Fair enough. I’m Brendon, and this,” he says as he gestures around himself, “is only temporary. Bigger things on the horizon.” You must look confused and he elaborates. “I’m working here to a, survive in general, and b, pay my tuition at Aveda.” You choke on your water and he looks concerned.

“You’re at Aveda? The beauty school?” When he nods, you look impressed. “Damn...my friend dropped out of Aveda last year. She’s phenomenal and she said the program was too rigorous and she couldn’t handle it. So...you must be really good...like, really fucking good. Incredible, even.”

“I’m trying really hard to look humble right now,” Brendon laughs, “but you’re making it difficult. I’m pretty good, yeah. I’ve got three more months in the program, but my instructor said I could work double-shifts on the training floor, if I wanted, and graduate in less than two. I’m talking a lot, I’m sorry.” He blushes again and you like the flush of color on his neck and cheeks.

“You don’t need to apologize; I asked. Keep talking. I like your voice.” You make a face. “Sorry, that was weird. I just mean-“

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he says with a grin. “I’m not sure if I’m going to do the double-shifts, because it’ll probably conflict with band rehearsals. I sing in this band; we’re trying to make something of it I guess,” he explains.

Your eyes rove over him, taking in the hair and the eyes and the lips and the assured, languid, almost sexy, way he carries himself and leans over the bar and meets your eyes. Yeah, you could see him on stage, girls going fucking nuts. Hell, at this point, you might be one of them. “A bartender who sings in a band and is a cosmetologist,” you muse. “I’m impressed. When’s your next show?”

“Almost a cosmetologist,” Brendon corrects good-naturedly. “As for the show...not sure. We’re dealing with a flakey bassist and trying to find a replacement.” You nod, understanding, and he nods his head towards the menu to your left. “You want anything else?”

You hesitate and he reaches under the bar for a notepad. He glances at you, smiles, and scrawls something down before ripping the page off and, with surprising grace (only because you surely would have tripped by now) spins on the spot and holds the paper to the wall before stealing a thumbtack from another sign (he doesn’t seem to care or notice when it flutters to the ground) and stabbing his sign into place. “Nice, pretty girls drink for free when Brendon is on shift,” he says, meeting your eyes. “Bar policy, see?” He gestures behind him at the yellow piece of paper he’s just posted. His exact words are in Sharpie on the wall.

“I bet you do that with every ‘nice, pretty’ girl,” you comment, feeling yourself blush now.

“Nope.” He doesn’t continue, elaborate, or clarify; his eyes still on yours.

Your breath catches in your throat and you believe him. “Well, it was smooth.”

“Don’t give me too much credit, I fully expected it to fail in some way. It was a small miracle that I didn’t fall and bust my ass or stab myself with the thumbtack. So what can I get you?”

“Surprise me,” you decide, shrugging. “I don’t really like rum, dark or light. Vodka and tequila though…” and you grin.

He nods and grabs a short glass and a stainless steel pitcher from the fridge before reaching up and grabbing two bottles and pouring at, what seems to you, total random, but he’s concentrating, so there must be a recipe he’s mentally following. “Voila.” The drink is gorgeous and you tell him this, impressed. “Cranberry screwdriver. Cranberry vodka, orange juice, and Grand Marnier.”

“Top shelf,” you muse, and he nods, winking at you playfully, reminding you to know your worth. “Am I drinking alone?” The question falls breathlessly from your lips and he shakes his head, duplicating the drink quickly. “You won’t get in trouble for this, right?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. So tell me about you.” You both take a long sip from the drink and your eyes go wide.

“That’s so good,” you tell him and he smiles, nodding. “Okay, me...uh...fuck, I don’t know. Give me more specific questions.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a writer.” You pause and laugh. “Which is to say, I’m a waitress who is revising her manuscript of her first novel for the ninth time without having submitted it anywhere.”

Brendon looks impressed. “A writer, huh? What do you write?”

“A little of everything. I’ve been writing for years; contemporary fiction, historical, romance, ghost-written for newspapers and magazines...but my novel is...I guess you’d call it psychological? A psychological thriller? I hope that’s how they describe it, if it ever gets published, at least.”

“You should submit it. Stop revising and submit it.”

You hesitate before considering. “Okay. Okay. Maybe I will.”

“Good.” He takes another long sip of his drink it reminds you of how good it is, prompting you to take another sip as well. “What restaurant do you work at?”

“Jag’s,” you say simply and he laughs a little. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because,” he says, trying to stop laughing, ”you are so above my pay grade.”

“Hey,” you protest, “It’s not like I own the place or even manage it, I just wait tables.”

“Yeah,” Brendon nods, “and the odds of me ever coming to visit you at work to casually ask to be seated in your section and flirt with you the entire time just plummeted.”

“You’d come flirt with me?”

He blushes and takes another sip. “I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry. I just get anxious sometimes and things slip out. I shouldn’t have said that, that was so inappropriate; I’m so sor-“

“No,” you assure him, nudging his glass with yours. “I didn’t mind. It was sweet.” He relaxes a little and you smile at him. “Really.”

“So when you’re not waiting on this city’s wealthiest or writing, what do you do?”

You consider. “Well, I love sleeping.” He laughs and you grin. “And...god I’m boring, aren't I? I write and work and sleep and let my friends set me up on blind dates and that’s my life. Damn.”

“What I’m hearing is, if I want to accidentally-on-total-purpose run into you again, I’ll have to find you in bed.” He bites his lower lip and you definitely feel something deep in the pit of your stomach. “Or just hope that another blind date chooses this bar on one of my shifts and bails. Or is sketchy enough that you’d willingly let me steal you away.”

“I’m not letting my friends set me up with anyone else.”

“Good plan. But why were you on a blind date in the first place?” He's leaning forward, elbows on the bar. “Why is there no guy barging in here to yell at me to stop hitting on his girlfriend? You’re smart, funny, nice, and gorgeous. It doesn’t make sense.”

“I’ve been promoted from pretty to gorgeous?” He nods and you grin. “An excellent question, one for which I have no answer.” You quip and he shakes his head.

“A travesty.” The couple at the other end of the bar flags him down and he pauses. “I’ll be right back.”

You watch him walk and try to control your thoughts. He’s the gorgeous one, you tell yourself, eyes closing briefly as you remember the lemon wedge between his lips and how he met your eyes when he told you nice, pretty girls drank for free. He’s gorgeous and kind and funny, but he’s also awkward and self-conscious and anxious - you love it. He’s real. He’s not the typical guy, hiding his insecurities or putting on a front. He’s real and you’re definitely attracted to him. He’s closed out the other couple’s tab and they’re leaving. As they pass you, the girl catches your eye and grins. “Get it,” she mouths, giving you a thumbs up. You blush and she winks, turning back to her boyfriend.

“So where were we?” Brendon is back in front of you and he’s thinking. “Ah, yes. It’s a travesty that you don’t have some guy in here, defending your honor.”

“Is it?” You pose the question casually and he pauses. “I don’t think it is.” You glance at him and then down at his lips, not even trying to be subtle.

“Maybe it’s not,” Brendon agrees in a low voice. His eyes match your movements; moving slowly to your lips. He downs the last half of his cranberry screwdriver. “I need another drink. You want one?” You tell him yes and he smiles. “Tequila this time?”

You nod, finishing off your own drink. “Yeah.”

He places the drink in your hand moments later and you sip at the margarita, moaning quietly. “Damn, that’s good.” You check your phone and wince. “It’s getting late. When do you close?”

“It’s a Tuesday,” Brendon answers, glancing at the clock. “So...technically midnight. One more hour.”

“One more hour,” you echo, taking another sip. “This should probably be my last drink then. Will need to sober up to get home.”

“Please,” Brendon scoffs. “I’ll call you an Uber or something.”

“Still,” you argue, “I should cut myself off. After I finish this amazing margarita though…”

-||-

It’s midnight and you reach for your purse. “About that Uber,” you say with a laugh. Brendon grins and nods but you keep talking. “I’m almost sober. But I was thinking…”

Brendon looks at you from over the bar, eyes dark. “I was thinking that I shouldn’t drive. And I was thinking we could share that Uber.” His eyes widen a little and you smile, leaning over the bar. “My roommate is home but…”

“Mine is out of town.” Brendon interrupts you softly, taking the register out and putting it in a safe under the bar and surveying the glasses and soapy water. “Let me just…yeah, no. I’m opening tomorrow. I’ll deal with this then. Let’s go.” He walks around the bar and pulls up the app on his phone and taps at it urgently, eyes flicking from the screen to your face. “They’ll be here in five minutes.”

“Perfect,” you murmur, stepping closer. “I can think of a few ways to kill those five minutes.” Brendon smiles and leans down to kiss you.

Oh thank god, you think, kissing him back fervently. He’s a good kisser. He’s a great kisser, actually, and his hands are sliding down your back. You make an encouraging noise against his lips, tentatively reaching for his hair, purposefully going to the back, to avoid messing up the front. Even though it’ll probably get messed up later...and you push the thought away, focusing on his lips.

He mumbles something against your mouth and you take the opportunity to part your lips. He mimics you and then just when you think you’re about to blackout from euphoria, from his tongue meeting yours, two headlights move over you both and he groans, pulling back regretfully. “Car’s here.” He sees the question in your eyes and grins. “Ten minutes to my place.”

-||-

You’re behaving in the back of this car, but it’s taking all of your control. His hand is laced with yours and he’s rubbing his thumb so soothingly and you’re both just watching each other, longingly, desperately, needily. “Soon,” you mouth, and his head falls back against the headrest, eyes closing as he nods.

After what feels like forever, the car comes to an abrupt halt and Brendon scrambles out of the car and extends his hand to you. “Have a good night,” he calls to the driver as he closes the door. “I’ve got bad news.” He looks at you and you frown. “There’s no elevator.” You blink slowly, processing. “And I live on the third floor.” He points to a stairwell glumly.

“So no making out in the elevator,” you observe and he shakes his head. “And we’re climbing three flights of stairs.” He nods and you grin. “Race you.”

You take off, giggling and Brendon stands still for a moment, watching you in awe. “Oh, you’re on,” he calls, coming after you. You slow down as he comes up behind you on the third floor and grabs your waist, kissing you hard. “Caught you,” he murmurs against your lips. He presses you back against the wall and you arch into the embrace, gripping his shoulders firmly.

“Caught me,” you agree, grinning. “But for the record, I’m letting you win. Mostly because I don’t know which apartment is yours,” you say with a laugh.

“Either way,” Brendon laughs now too, “I win.” He’s kissing you again and fumbling for his keys in his back pocket, making a triumphant noise against your lips when he pulls them out and shoves them into the door to your immediate right. “Inside,” he urges, stepping backwards and you follow, lips still seeking his. You kick the door shut behind you as he pulls you into the living room and you glance around.

“IKEA?” You point at the couch and he nods. “I have the same one in grey,” you say with a grin and he laughs as you shove him down on top of it. “It’s a good couch.”

“It is a good couch,” Brendon agrees, stroking your hips as you straddle him. “But let’s stop talking about my couch.” You laugh and kiss him hard before moving down his neck, nipping and sucking lightly. “Damn,” he groans, and his hips move under you. You smile against his neck and the two of you pull his shirt off.

“Damn,” you echo, taking him in slowly. “You’re gorgeous.” He blushes and you grin, kissing his neck again before pulling back to look at him. You run your fingers down his arm, tracing the tattoos there. “These are lovely.” You lean down to kiss his shoulder and move across his collarbone, pressing warm, soft kisses against him. Your hands move down his chest and you press gently against the flat planes of his stomach, smiling when he inhales sharply. You slide your hand into his jeans and curl your fingers around his erection and he inhales again as you sigh happily. “Been wanting to do this,” you admit, looking up at him longingly. “Will you take these pants off?”

“As if you really have to ask,” Brendon says in a rough voice, arching his hips as his fingers fly to the button on his jeans. He shoves them down and you moan, low in the back of your throat, when his cock springs free.

“You’re gorgeous,” you repeat, leaning in to press your lips to the tip, your eyes moving up to his.

“You don’t have to-“ Brendon protests suddenly, as if he’s just now realizing your intentions. “Thought you’d get- and we’d- Y/n, you don’t have to-“ he’s cut off when you take him deep and he groans, cradling your face in one hand, the other flying to his hair. “Jesus,” he sighs as you lick over his length, your hand squeezing around him in a pulsing manner. “Jesus, that’s good.” You smile faintly and take him in your mouth, making sure to caress the length of him as he slides over your tongue and between your lips. “Your mouth, Jesus, your mouth,” he sighs, and when you look up, the hand fisted in his hair is tugging slightly. “Y/n, your hot, wet mouth, goddamn.” You moan around him and he shudders, eyes wide and locked on yours. “Oh god,” Brendon says sharply after a moment, “you’re-“ and his eyes land between your legs where you’re rubbing with two fingers as you suck noisily at him, whimpering and moaning, like you’re getting off from having him in your mouth - which you kind of are, you realize. He tastes good. “Y/n, you’re-“ he tries again, cutting himself off with a groan. “Jesus, god, you’re gonna make me- and you’re just-“ his back stiffens and he seems to reach some conclusion in his own head and his hips drop, pulling out of your mouth. You make a confused, whimpering noise, and he rolls onto his knees and crawls towards you at the end of his couch.

“You didn’t come,” you protest, and he smiles, his eyes dark. His lips meet yours and you grab his hair, moaning and tugging when his tongue caresses yours. “Wanted to make you come.”

“I like to revel in the prolonged delay,” Brendon murmurs in your ear, his hands moving over you.

“That’s fucking poetry,” you tell him, and he grins, hands slipping up under your shirt and pulling it off. He drops it somewhere on his floor and stares at you hungrily.

“You’re-Jesus,” he sighs and you refrain from making the standard joke. “God, you’re beautiful.” His hands move to cup your breasts through your black lace bra and he launches forward, kissing your neck and moving down to your cleavage, burying his face and licking and sucking and kissing greedily. “Goddamn,” he mumbles, one hand moving to the small of your back and the other going to your jeans. “Y/n, you’re so- and, Jesus, you’re just - soft and smooth and you smell good and oh my god.” You giggle and he unclasps your bra to lick and suck at your nipples, making you moan and arch into his touch. “This is okay?” You nod and he kisses his way down your stomach, tongue circling your navel and you gasp, clutching at his shoulders. He manages to unbutton your jeans and pulls them down, groaning when he takes in the black lace that matches your bra. “You were planning on fucking someone tonight,” he comments, fingers running over your panties. You nod and he kisses your stomach again. “Glad it’s me.”

“Well, not planning,” you gasp, clarifying. “Since I didn’t know the guy. Preparing. Just in case. Better to be ready.”

“Yeah,” Brendon says with a grin. “Best to be prepared. God, you’re gorgeous. You’re something else. How did I get so lucky?” You blush and he gets your jeans all the way down and you kick them off, waiting for him to come back to your mouth. He has other plans though, and he is looking at you longingly as his mouth moves lower and lower until his lower lip is brushing against the hem of your panties. Oh. He watches you as his fingers slip under the sides and he pulls the lacy material away. “Oh fuck,” Brendon sighs, and you try to steady your breathing.

“You don’t have to- I mean- that’s a little intimate for our first time- so you don’t have to-“ You’re stammering and Brendon looks up at you, confused.

“It’s the exact same as you blowing me,” he points out, and you consider this. “Which you did. Besides, this isn’t me returning the favor or doing this because I ‘have to.’ I want to. Can I?” You hesitate and he kisses your thigh. “You can say no and my feelings won’t be hurt.” He grins suddenly. “My pride might be, but my feelings will be fine.”

“If you really want to, you ca-“ but you interrupt yourself with a sharp cry of pleasure as he licks you swiftly. “Jesus god in heaven my god that feels so good,” you groan, and Brendon chuckles, kissing your inner thigh before pulling back and standing up.

“I didn’t change my mind about this,” he tells you. “I’m just taking you to bed.” You nod and he scoops you into his arms, setting off down the hallway. “Good thing you like IKEA furniture,” Brendon comments as he pushes the door open with his foot. “Because my bed is definitely from IKEA. But my mattress isn’t,” he adds. You laugh and he places you on his bed gently, staring at you, naked in his bed, giggling and writhing in your need, reaching for him. “Jesus, I want to be that guy.” You look at him curiously. “That guy coming into bars and telling bartenders and random guys to stop hitting on you. If you’ll let me be.” You smile and nod, bringing his mouth down to yours. His fingers walk down your stomach and pause, making you painfully aware of your wetness. “Yes?” You nod desperately and he smiles, wriggling down the bed to lick at you eagerly again. “Yes,” he repeats as a moan now; it blends with yours and you’re both gasping and swearing as his tongue and fingers bring you close. You can’t believe you almost denied him - yourself- this. He’s so good. He’s moaning and thrusting against the bed as his tongue goes deep; he looks up at you from between your thighs and winks at you. You swear; he licks you more urgently before pulling back, his lips swollen and shining. “You taste...my god, I could get drunk off of you, you taste so good.” His voice is low and smooth, and he’s kissing the inside of your thighs; he’s letting his tongue move over you sloppily, just licking and tasting as his eyes flutter shut blissfully. “Can I make you wait for it too?” He stares up at you from between your legs. The question is soft and his pupils are fully dilated and he’s licking his lips and you might die from lust. But you nod regardless and he crawls up over you and kisses you gently. “I won’t make you wait long, promise.” Still kissing you, he reaches for the bedside table by your head and pulls the drawer open, hand rummaging. “Ha!” It’s a triumphant noise and you kiss him as he plucks the foil square from its box. You take it from him and rip it open, your hand curling around him and rolling the latex into place. “Ready?” His voice is low and you nod, legs spreading wide so he can settle between your thighs. He rocks into you gently and you both moan. “Y/n, you sound so fucking good,” Brendon murmurs in your ear. “So good, moaning for me. And you feel incredible.”

“Brendon,” you whisper, clinging to his back. “Feels so good. So fucking good. Please, please,” you beg, nails raking across his skin. “Please.” You’re not even sure what you’re begging for; he’s thrusting smoothly and steadily - he’s hardly denying you anything. One of his hands is on your hip, keeping you in place for him to work; the other is tangled in your hair at the base of your neck and he’s propped up on that hand’s forearm, murmuring dirty promises in your ear. His hips pick up the tempo and you whimper when he moves his hand from your hip to your thigh. His hand moves further between your legs to tease your clit and you shriek, thighs tightening around his hips. He only nods his encouragement, still breathing hard and whispering filth in your ear, promising to make you come, to make you feel so fucking good. “Rub my clit just a little,” you beg and he obliges immediately. “I’m gonna fucking- oh god, right there.” Your eyes snap open and you’re clinging, clawing, clutching at him desperately as your back arches and your climax rips through you. Your lips part wordlessly and he takes the opportunity to kiss you deeply, tongue rolling over yours. “Yes,” you murmur into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut when you feel him come, despite the condom.

“Oh holy fucking hell,” Brendon whispers in a choked voice before crushing his mouth back over yours, his own climax making his hips rock into you gracelessly, rhythm long gone. “Yes, Y/n, yes, I’m coming for you. You’re making me come, Jesus.” He’s gasping this against your lips and you moan, wrapping both legs around his waist and matching his thrusts with your hips.

As both of your peaks subside, you’re still clinging to each other and he kisses you softly, moving from your lips to your ear, where he nuzzles your skin with his nose and whispers sweet things to you. “So good, so fucking good,” he tells you. You nod wordlessly, urgently. “Best I’ve ever had,” he murmurs against your neck, eyes flicking up to yours.

“Oh hell yeah,” you laugh softly. “Me too, definitely. Jesus Christ, no guy has ever made me come so fast.” He grins and rolls off of you and you curl into his side, stroking his chest idly as you snuggle under his arm. You’re both exhausted, justifiably so, but it feels so right to just hold each other like this, breathing softly and occasionally kissing lazily. “I’m so glad you started this, with that round of lemon drop shots,” you tell him, snuggling in closer. He nods, fatigue evident in his every move. “Relax,” you tell him. “Get some sleep. Next round’s on me.” You wink and he laughs, eyes fluttering shut.

“Please tell me you mean morning sex,” he murmurs with a grin and you nod. His smile widens and he runs a hand down your side, pulling you flush against him. “Then we should get some rest,” he whispers, and you yawn your agreement. He chuckles and pulls the blanket up over both of you. “Goodnight, Y/n. Sweet dreams. See you in the morning.” He kisses you one last time and within moments, you’re both asleep.

Flash fiction sequel

[jksmoongf]

Red Lights [part III]

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: angst / fluff / smut

Summary: “An invisible thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, and circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle. But it will never break.” – Ancient Chinese Proverb.

Part 3

Word count: 2.1k

Warning: sexual harassment

She locked the screen of her phone and threw it on the stained mattress which had been in this room for god knows how long. Leaning her head against the wall; she pulled her knees up to her chest to wrap her arms around them. The window was closed but she could feel the cold air seeping through.

Yesterday had been the best day for her in a long time; only because of him. Yoongi had picked her up near the university campus to take her to Bugak Skyway, where they spent all afternoon walking around and talking. He truly was a blessing in disguise; appearing out of nowhere and taking her heart by storm. Often she wondered what he saw in her; a girl damaged beyond repair in cheap clothing with a low sense of pride that chipped away each night she was out on the street. Of course, she had noticed the ridiculously expensive watch dangling on his wrist, his car must be worth more than two years worth of rent for this run-down apartment and the brand-name clothing he wore…why would he want someone like her? But she never dared to ask him; never even dared to reveal her real life to him because she was sure it would scare him away.

She despised herself for lying to him; she wanted to be honest but telling him she fucked random guys just to pay her rent was a risk she wasn’t going to take. She tried to imagine the look on his face; how his eyes would widen in disbelief and she let out a quiet chuckle. He would never believe her; he probably thought she was just a normal girl trying to get through university with a part-time job, but in all reality, she was far from it. 

Slowly but surely she was running out of excuses why she couldn’t hang out with Yoongi whenever he was free. It was hard for her to keep up with her lies; on most days she told him she had classes to attend or work in the evening and even yesterday she had rushed to campus just so he wouldn’t get suspicious and catch on to her lies. They weren’t little white lies that he could overlook or simply forgive her. 

Sometimes she missed going to university and learning something new every day but how could she have stayed in that place after what her professor did to her? She tried not to think about it too much, repressing it was easier than actually facing it. But not this time; involuntarily the memories flooded her mind.

*** 

“Please hand in the assignment on Monday.” Her professor announced, rolling up the sleeves of his button-up shirt. It was summer and unbearably hot in the classroom so everyone hurried to leave to finally enjoy the weekend.

“Y/n, can you come here for a minute.” She flinched at the sound of her name but made her way over to his desk, while he wiped the board clean of his notes.

“I’m sure you know what this is about…” He trailed off, sitting down on the edge of the wooden table, eyeing her up and down.

“Not really, Sir.” She adjusted her bag on her shoulder, hugging her notebook tighter to her chest. “Well then, I went through all your assignments again and at the beginning of the semester you were excellent but your grades have progressively been getting worse and I honestly don’t know if I can let you pass the class…”

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. He was right; she had prioritized making friends and going out for drinks with them or working on her personal music instead of assignments.

“I’m sorry, I had some family stuff to deal with…but would it be possible for me to hand in something, anything to get my grade up? Please?” She couldn’t afford to retake this class, her parents would be so mad if she failed.

He stood up and moved in closer. “I know you have a lot on your plate…” His fingers brushed her hair from her face.

“But if you’re willing to do some extra work then I’m sure we can work something out.”

She nodded and bit the inside of her cheek as his hand slowing crept down her back, stopping right above her butt.

“Is that a yes y/n?” She nodded again, knowing she wouldn’t be able to make a sound. “Good…” His body was so close to her, she could smell his aftershave and feel his breath on her cheek. In a low raspy tone, he whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “You don’t want to disappoint your parents, do you?”

Both of his hands squeezed her ass before disappearing under her skirt. “Your parents worked hard to pay for this school, so you better do anything in your power to make them happy…” She felt her body freeze up; holding her breath as one of his hands grabbed her thigh to spread her legs a little more. Two of his fingers ghosted over the thin fabric between her legs. “Don’t be shy y/n. You know, I don’t offer this kind of credit to just anyone. You’re special to me..” His moist breath was fanning against her ear.

***

Everything that followed was just a blur; like a barrier, her mind had set up to protect her. She couldn’t remember how she got the courage to push him away before anything worse could happen or how her legs were able to run as fast as they did.

“YOU’RE NOT A REAL MUSICIAN IF YOU’RE NOT WILLING TO DO WHATEVER IT TAKES.”

The words he had yelled at her as she ran down the corridor, still echoed in her head. Maybe she wasn’t a real musician; all she knew was she wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if she had let him do this to her.

That was the last time she had set foot in this place; she couldn’t bring herself to go back and see him every day until she graduated. Giving up the only thing she had really wanted in life was the hardest thing she had ever done; even harder than selling her body - but at least this was her choice and no one would take that away from her.

The happy ding of her phone snapped her out of her thoughts. 

<Meet me at my usual hotel at 7. Wear the black dress I bought you last time ;)>

Takashi; a Japanese businessman and one of her regulars when he was in Seoul on business once or twice a month. ’Pretty girls need pretty things.’ He had said to her when he gave her the Louis Vuitton bag he had bought for her in Tokyo.

So she was sure it would pay off to cancel her plans with Yoongi for him. Still owing two months worth of rent and coming up short this month too; only left her with this option. He would pay her a substantial amount for her services and help him forget about his boring wife back home. 

With a deep sigh, Yoongi set his phone down on the table. He massaged his temples with his fingers and focused back on the screen of his laptop. Work was his main priority too, so he understood perfectly why she couldn’t drop everything for him. Yet he caught himself wanting to do just that.

She had just walked right into his heart; it happened so naturally over the past three weeks that he didn’t even notice at first how much he texted her and neglected the songs he had planned to finish for the new album. But he was good at keeping it to himself and taking things slow. Holding her hand sometimes when he could be sure no one would see it, or her occasionally giving his cheek a small peck when they said goodnight.

There was a sinking feeling in his chest; he knew they were both keeping things from each other; keeping the happy mask on that only revealed their good sides. But he wanted so badly to take it off and be just himself with her. 

He leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs; his stomach was grumbling loudly. It happened a lot, he forgot to eat when he was so consumed with work. He grabbed his jacket from the couch, roaming the halls hoping to find one of the boys. 

When he finally found the two youngest lounging on a couch, lazily scrolling on their phones.

“Do you wanna go and grab something to eat?” But Taehyung shook his head.

“No I’m waiting for Jimin to finish his vocal lesson, we want to order food and then play some games.”

Jungkook lifted his head. “Lamb skewers?” Yoongi nodded his head yes and wiggled his eyebrows. “You paying, hyung?”

“Fine, my treat.” He chuckled and suddenly the maknae had a lot more energy than before. Eagerly jumping to his feet and following him down the hall. “Next time, you’ll pay.”

“Yeah, of course, hyung!” He walked behind Yoongi, his arms stretched out, hands resting on the older one's shoulders guiding him to the parking garage.

They were sat in a small, cozy restaurant and he was on meat grilling duty, like always. Jungkook was already snacking on a few of the side dishes while talking about the new dance routine he had been working on with Hoseok all afternoon.

Usually, he thought it was rude to have his phone out but he was hoping for text from her; it almost 9 pm and he was sure she would send him a text every once in a while like she always did.

“It was really difficult! It took me about an hour to get that move perfect. I mean, Hobi said it was okay if it wasn’t perfect just yet but I really wanted to get it right. He worked hard on that choreography and it was really precise and intricate. But I got it in the end; you really need to come watch it tomorrow.” Yoongi wasn’t paying full attention to the boy sitting across the table from him. He just nodded his head in a monotone rhythm, indicating he was listening but his eyes had spotted her across the street. She was leaving a restaurant accompanied by a man in his thirties, who was wearing an expensive looking suit.

At first, he hadn’t been entirely sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him but the way she laughed and walked reassured him. She linked arms with the man and walked to the traffic light to cross the street. She was wearing a short black dress and a dusty rose colored winter coat draped over her shoulders. Why didn’t the man insist on her buttoning it up? Probably to get the occasional glimpse of her chest. He could feel his grip on his glass tighten. She had been lying to him; this didn’t look like work at all. Why did he even give a fuck that she was seeing another man? She wasn’t his girlfriend.

They quickly crossed the street and came walking towards the restaurant. She was laughing at every word that left the strange man’s mouth and gently patted his shoulder when they stopped in front of a red sports car parked on the side of the road.

“Hyung, are you listening to me? Hey, what are you looking at?” Jungkook was worried; he had never seen his brother like that. Eyes dark, jaw clenched and his knuckles turning white from gripping the cup so hard, he was afraid the older one might break it. 

Yoongi’s stomach was twisted in knots as she turned to face the man and he immediately put his hands on her hips underneath the coat, making the fabric bunch up a little, revealing even more of her legs. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his cheek. An unfamiliar feeling of anger and jealousy started stirring up in the pit of his stomach.

The man unlocked the car and opened the door for her. As she climbed into the car, the man’s hand casually disappeared under her coat. Yoongi’s eyes widened, knowing he was grabbing her ass so shamelessly in public. He slammed his glass down on the table, pushed his chair back as he jumped up.

His heart hammered in his chest; hands shaking with anger as he headed for the door; willing to tear that man apart with his bare hands. 

[krisrowland]

Promises for this year and reflections on last year

 A few activities that I’m trying to have a positive impact my life in 2019

Reading (so many books I haven’t read on my shelf)

Drawing in my Adam J Curtis book

Writing Kasper pieces

Spend time figuring out a vague shape for Kasper so far.

Organise Skype sessions with friends, Helena, Steph/Archie, Tina/Aine, Rosie, Lauren,

Research artistic meetups

Find time to meditate

Find time to be silly/rehearse monologues

Singing in the shower

Practising monologues

Writing thought pieces

Practical things to work on in 2019

Get a credit card and spend     £50 each month

Buy all birthday cards and     presents for sister, mum, dad, matt, Archie, Sophie, Jonny and Rich and Helena. + any  other major birthdays

Organise birthday party in August

Organise China trip in August

Things I promise to be this year

Being a better uncle to     Archie

Everyone is a little bit racist as they say. I want to be less so.  I want to understand more and go to talks, plays, listen to activists that have a BAME voice . And figure out how else I can be an ally.

Always be willing to learn

Reflections on 2018

January 

I met Chris at Paul's birthday party which was amazing it was so fun and an overwhelm of lust and play.  I stopped doing the Landmark Education introduction Leader Programme after  4 months of emotional, frustrating and enlivening phone calls. I couldn't deal with the pressure I was putting myself under. My grand visions of social justice and my own creative practise were in severe conflict with reality and I needed to reassess what I was saying to myself. I think Landmark has undoubtedly changed my life it has made me really respect myself and find ways of being more flexible on a day to day with others. I now have the best relationship with my Dad, Mum and work I have ever had. I also started counselling for the first of three times this year to clear up some irrational thought patterns, which has continued my personal development journey and understanding of myself. Katharine and I continued our obsession with Stacey Makishi @ The Yard Theatre. Paul and I watched an earthshattering theatrical version of Network at The National theatre.

February started with Rosies hen do and a rekindling of the Notts college crew. I had a two week break to hang round London see shows and art galleries. I had my first rehearsals for Kasper, a performance piece I have wanted to do for ages and invited Chris k to collaborate. I also partied hard with Kayleigh Foulkes for the first time in a number of years in Camden and G.A.Y. The broom dancing team were on form (minus Heather)

March Rosie and Bob's wedding was another wonderful reminder of the awesome people that are in Nottingham, god I love our college crew there is so much I have to thank you for. Catching up with Jake was great, though we only met up three times this year, a culture vulture with a big heart and the best company. Kris R's party was a messy fun night with glitter et al at G.A.Y. And another messy night to welcome Gurdeep to his new Stratford home.

April Discovering the cruisey vibes of Bloc bar with Bryan was amazing. It felt like I was at a gay trance night in the 90's. Pulsating music, guys and telling the time by the number of topless men you could see. April was also Jamie's birthday with a terrific karaoke and Chinese evening. I went to Nestas people powered health conference which made me want to do a service design ma in the new year and had a number of wines for the road with my director and manager.

May was an eventful month starting the new job, Eurovision being a messy evening to say the least in a fabulous location.  I saw Hamilton with Jamie which was an honour and a pleasure it was the best musical I'd seen in ages, intelligent, mainstream, modern and political, never mind catchy. The amount of times I listened to the soundtrack  Spotify created me my own Hamilton playlist as if it was a genre.

In June I did my first stint drinking no alcohol at house parties with support from Helena as she was trying to cut down as well. I joined the Grapes quiz team and won a number of times throughout the rest of the year with them. Helena and I went to Phobiarama which was a political and race based ghost train. Followed by a very iffy messy night at XXL. It was Jonny and Rich's 40th and Sophie's 30th. We said goodbye to the first care leavers peer support group and partied at Chris's caravan to say goodbye to Chris and Helena on their next adventures.

 The start of July was Helenas leaving party :( This years London pride felt like the first time I really understood why we still celebrate. A space in which you can be anything you want to be and feel comfortable being who you are. Years and Years were epic at the Roundhouse showing off their new album with much pizazz. Grindr the Opera was a weridly touching patische that was both hialrious and heartwarming. Helena was back in London and had a brief visit to see Gary in his new pad with Lindsey on the Henley part of the river Thames.

August was my first holiday with my dad in a beautiful air bnb in the New Forest. I had a joint birthday with Chris K starting with a picnic in Green park and ending in the beautiful Set You Free at The Chateau for pure 90s pop #messy. Kayleigh came to London again and we saw Britney at the O2 and went to Jonny woo' club The Glory.

 September I headed off to see Helena and explore Estonian culture in Talinn. I managed to do my best time on a half marathon. 1hour 54 minutes.

 October

Not much happened in October.Cabaret night with Phil Will and Kris. Halloween twas

November I met a really nice guy on Tinder but just didn't get the spark. I started Kasper rehearsals again, trying to figure out what the hell you do in a devised rehearsal space. Fantastic Beasts was a disappointment.

December started off with a fab racalette and wine evening with Chris Will and Phil. We had two Team away days on the same day which I helped organise. The Xmas party was at one my fav craft beer places. I had the gayest of Secret Santa's with unicorn Christmas decorations, a apron with a fake cock attached to it and a very fluffy rainbow pen. I finally went to see The Inheritance. A beautiful bittersweet depiction of modern gay life and the debt we owe older gay men.

Throughout the year I have been volunteering at a care leavers peer support group in Thurrock. It has been a challenging experience with the young people but also being able to find our place in the group. I wrote a blog about my experience here. I am continuing this into next year and won't be continuing after June.

It was a bit of a shock in May to hear that Helena (my closest and best friend) would be moving to China. We have really gone through thick and thin together and with each other over the last two years. Meeting at Landmark on a course and then developing a social impact concept together. Whilst the CCA's output may have left much to be desired. We created some unbelievable friendships ourselves and with other people including Gary, Kris , Annie and Papola. July was the month when she departed to go to Estonia for a few months before leaping over to Bejing to be a lecturer. Looking back over the year it strikes me how much of an impact she has had on me. Getting me off my seriousness addiction, pushing me when I didn't think I could give much more. She is one in million a real open, honest, not afraid to share her thoughts, willing to give anything a go and also a mysterious multitasker that you don't realise is doing so much brilliant stuff.  She has opened my eyes to the EU migrant experience in Britain, Estonia's vibrant culture, my own biases, helped me celebrate myself and so so so much more. Helena I frigging love you and miss you, no one can ever take your place.

At work it was an up and down year. A department restructure and consultation had been taking place since September 2017. After six months we had the finalised structure, my line manager was leaving which was a blessing and a curse. (In some ways he was an amazing line manager giving me space to explore with him what I wanted to develop in the role but he was also not great at following up and holding me to account plus our meetings could go on for hours.) Then looking at the final paper I saw that my job had been deleted. So I had to interview for a new position which mostly matched my previous role, though it was the grade above which softened the blow. We welcomed Jane to the peer support team and many others into the unit and it felt we had new found energy and ambition.  Two colleagues and myself started the LGBTIQ+ workshop which has been an amazing 6 months of creating events, learning, creating structures and trying to see how we are best placed in the organisation.  At the Xmas party we even had someone congratulating us on sustaining the group and seeing us as a steering group for the organisation. I also travelled to Birmingham and Swansea for Influence and Participation (I&P) events, helped create an animation and will be facilitating a session next year for a new set of videos explaining the benefits of I & P to people on their recovery journey. The success of our staff forum pay paper meant in April  that all staff got a pay rise, with further Brexit/ economic developments this will be a key focus in the coming years to see how we can support staff within our capacity as a charity. I was recently made the staff forum chairperson as Zadie leaves after having helped us navigate a consultation that asked major questions of our internal structures and leadership and form a project plan. Things now seem more on track with my role with a clear steer that my efforts to troubleshoot and problem solve is a positive contribution to the units and department as a whole. We will see what happens in the new year.

Jamie was another of Paul's friends who I instantly hit it off with. An amazing creative/ animator who has enthusiasm for all things culture with a labyrinth of music, film, TV shows and merch surrounding his almost iconic living room.  We created a film club watching films we had never seen before it was a zany mix of animation, black comedy, surreal adventures and classics that you are suppose to have seen. After a bit of persuasion Jamie created an amazing puppet lipsynch to Robyn's here. Talent screaming out, can't wait to see what next year brings for this phenomenal guy.

Chris what to say about Chris. Well he has given me some of the best nights of the year pub quizzes, theatre, drinks, nights in, films, banter, Karaoke, clubbing, a picnic. His smile is inffectious. He made me value the small things. We dated and that came to an end but he became a solid friend. There is so much going for him I just wish he would see how great he really is.

Big love