#gonna keep going this weekend see how i go :)
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“Just Breathe”
Yoongi x Reader
Summary: You're nervous about meeting Yoongi's parents for the first time
Warnings: angst/comfort, brief mentions of toxic family life, not proofread
A/N: Thanks to @vicky-chaos for this request! I hope you like it!
Masterlist
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The late afternoon sun warmed your back as you walked down the street hand in hand with Yoongi, the familiar hum of street noise around you a welcome soundtrack that you hoped would distract from the anxious thoughts that had been filtering through your mind all day.
Normally you loved going on errand runs like these with Yoongi, finding comfort in the mundane routine, but today you had found yourself unable to relax fully and enjoy yourself, even now fidgeting with the handles of the shopping bags in your free hand.
Yoongi’s parents were coming to visit for the weekend, and he had asked if you wanted to help him cook dinner on the first night so that you could meet them. You had been touched that he wanted to introduce you to them at all and had agreed to the plan eagerly enough at first, but inside, there had been a growing tinge of “what if?”.
If this evening didn’t go well, you worried how it would affect you and Yoongi’s relationship going forward.
Yoongi had noticed your growing nerves and had tried to reassure you that things would be fine, even giving you a crash course on his parents' personalities and interests to help make you feel more confident and give you something to talk to them about.
“-And Dad likes reading, so just keep conversation focused around that if you can’t think of anything else.” He finished as you were headed back towards where he had parked the car.
“Right…” You replied distantly, chewing on your lip.
“It’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He assured you, squeezing your hand gently.
You nodded, but you couldn’t stop your heart still anxiously skittering around your ribcage, seeking out escape.
“Hey,” His tone was much softer now, drawing your attention back to him with a gentle touch on your cheek, letting his fingers just brush over your skin in the same way that he did as you fell asleep at night. “Just breathe, okay? Everything will be fine. They’re gonna love you.”
You hesitated for the briefest moment.
“What if they don’t?” Your asked quietly, breaking his heart at how small you sounded.
He knew his parents weren’t the easiest to get along with, especially his father, but he had faith that they would see what a beautiful and remarkable person you were. He couldn’t imagine anyone meeting you and not immediately falling for your warm heart and infectious personality.
But no matter how many times Yoongi tried to encourage and reassure you, your anxieties over what could possibly go wrong persisted.
He knew your fears weren’t entirely unfounded; it was no secret to him that the relationship between you and your own parents was difficult to say the least, leaving you with more than a few emotional scars that you were slowly trying to heal. But he was not so secretly hoping that this might be the start of a better relationship with parental figures for you, that you might start to view his family as your own. He just needed you to believe.
“If they don’t like you, then that’s their problem and they’ll have to get over it.” He told you matter-of-factly.
“Yoongi-” You started, but he stopped you.
“I mean it, if they know me and care about me at all, then they’ll make the effort to get along with the person I love.”
Your eyes shot up to meet his in shock, making him realize his accidental admission.
“You love me?” You asked.
“Yeah, of course I do.” He said, trying to ignore the creeping redness that he could feel coloring his face.
“It’s just-, you’ve never said that before.” You pointed out, still staring at him.
“I’ve felt it for a while, I’d just been trying to find the right time to say something.” He replied quietly, suddenly finding the pavement very interesting as he scratched at the back of his neck self-consciously. “And it’s no big deal, you don’t have to say anything ba-”
“I love you too.” You cut him off.
His head snapped back up, his dark eyes filled with cautious hope.
“Really?”
You nodded. “I always have.”
Before you could blink, Yoongi closed the gap between you, crushing you to his chest in a hug that nearly knocked the wind out of you.
“I love you.” He mumbled into your hair. “I love you so fucking much, and nothing anyone says can ever change that. Not my parents, not anyone.”
Your eyes stung at his words, trying to fight back the sudden wave of emotions that threatened to overtake you.
“I love you too.” You managed, blinking away the wetness in your eyes.
It was moments like this that reminded you of just how thankful you were to have Yoongi in your life, always willing to make room for you, to protect you, to fight for you.
After a long moment, he pulled away enough to meet your eye again.
“We got this, yeah?” He asked. “We’ll be okay.”
You nodded, a small, genuine smile creeping across your face for the first time today.
“Lets go home.” He said, catching your hand in his again and giving it a slight squeeze.
The two of you walked on together in comfortable silence, savoring the feel of the shared warmth of your joined hands, keeping away the autumn chill that tried to chill your fingers.
Everything would be okay. So long as you had each other to hold onto, you could face anything.
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz
#bts x reader#bts x y/n#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x reader#yoongi blurb#yoongi scenarios#yoongi drabble#yoongi fluff#bts drabble#bts fluff#bts blurb#bts requests#7ndipity
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Who's Passing NNN? Tokyo Debunker Pt 5
hey man. the world keeps turning and i keep waking up. im grateful!
a/n: sorry i didn't update this series all weekend i mysteriously got sick with nausea and terrible headaches so i stayed away from my laptop most of the time. also please join me in prayer for an election recount. amen! anyways. enjoy haku and the others jacking it! quick disclaimer that i write these under the assumption the tokyo debunker boys are at least 18 years old. they appear to be present at a university considering there are professors and a chancellor. not to mention the boys drink, smoke, gamble, and refer to themselves as adults.
summary: pt 5 of the "Who's Passing NNN?" Tokyo Debunker series. i am genuinely surprised y'all like these but hey! i enjoy writing them which makes it so much better!
cw: men pulling their dicks out to rub them!!!!!! MINORS DNI AS PER USUAL!!!!!!!!!!!! again... not proofread.
Frostheim || Vagastrom || Jabberwock || Sinostra || Hotarubi || Obscuary || Mortkranken
(obscuary next... halfway through with them. enjoy!)
Hotarubi:
Subaru Kagami: Pass
Honestly struggled with him a little bit because of how funny it would be if he failed and writing him in a situation where he had to hold it together, but then I realized I already did that (see “He Knows”). I love tormenting submissive men but I’m gonna give him a lil break.
He’s hard as a rock. His cock harshly presses into his pants, seeking friction and begging to be set free. Subaru, however, remains the picture of elegance - if you ignore his flushed cheeks and trembling silhouette. He was sitting alone in the hidden Hotarubi cabin, waiting to meet Haku later. He held a hot cup of tea in front of him, trying not to spill it as he slowly lifts it to his lips. He manages to gently sip at it, his fingers slipping just slightly and spilling just a little over the edges. The tea slides from his lips, past his chin, and down his neck, lightly staining the collar of his shirt. He sighs in frustration and hooks a finger over his collar, pulling it away from the tea. He only just now realizes how warm he felt, the exposure of his heated skin to cooler air giving him goosebumps. He suppresses a gasp at the feeling and readjusts his collar, placing his tea down with his other hand. Now that he was aware of the heat, it wouldn’t leave him alone. It seemed to flood his body from head to toe - flushed cheeks and neck, his body tense with heat and arousal, his blood flowing to his shameful erection.
He wondered if he should cancel on Haku, and nearly immediately regrets the thought. That would potentially make things inconvenient for him, and he didn’t want that… But he also knew he wouldn’t be much for conversation like this. Not to mention it would be absolutely mortifying if Haku saw right through him. Subaru sighs, though it sounds more like a pleasured groan. This was a terrible predicament.
He gets a notification on his phone. Something from Wickchat. With trembling hands, he opens the message. It’s from Haku. He’s running late.
Subaru sighs. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get through the next half hour waiting for Haku like this. Technically, he could take care of it, here… There was no one around, the rain would muffle any noise, and it’s not like this cabin is clearly visible through the trees. He whips his head around the empty cabin, as though someone would be hiding in the corners. His flush grows deeper at the thought of doing this somewhere other than his dorm, but he can’t deny the way his cock jumps at the thought of getting away with it. With his lips pressed into a thin, trembling line - he reaches for his pants, squeezing himself through the fabric. He whines, the sound more needy than intended. He slaps a hand to his mouth, going silent for a moment, his eyes darting to the windows of the small space. When he decides he’s safe, he does it again -- squeezing himself gently, trying to relieve some pressure. It isn’t long before he’s gently rubbing his palm against his tip, teasing himself. He keeps his hand clasped tight to his mouth, muffled moans and whimpers slipping through. He gently teases the head, slowly dragging his fingers up and down his shaft. He rubs his thighs together and leans forward, realizing his peak is rapidly approaching. He rips his hand from his mouth and swiftly grabs a handkerchief, pointing his cock at that as he finally bursts, a strangled moan lifting from his throat and his cum spurting onto the thin fabric. He shivers, staring at the mess, wondering if brewing another cup of tea would get the scent of his arousal out of the air.
Haku Kusanagi: Fail
Come on. Let’s be for real. He did not try. Caught wind of the bet between Romeo and Rui and just laughed. He is not passing this shit, and he knows it. As much as I would love to write Haku getting off… I’ll make him suffer one more time.
Haku shivers, the air just a tad bit chilly on the galaxy express. Usually, these rides were quick, but unfortunately, his mission had been quite a ways away. He could expect to be here for a while. He chews on his thumbnail, tapping his foot as though to speed up time. He drums his fingers on the plush seat next to him, doing anything to distract himself and pass the time. He was good at hiding his arousal, typically, and that hadn’t changed today. But, for whatever reason, every single sensation felt more potent today. The chill of the air on his face, the slide of his shirt and collar along his chest and neck, the rush of warmth following every twitch of his impatient length - it all felt the same. Stimulating. He found himself having to blink multiple times or gently shake his head to prevent himself from getting lost in sensation after sensation.
He sighs and leans his head back, listening intently to the gentle thrum of the hearth of the train as it smoothly coasted through the unseen anomalous pockets of space. He was glad this train didn’t rumble or thump, because if it did, it would’ve caused him more than enough friction to lose himself far quicker.
He shifts his gaze to his half-hard cock as it continues to rise insistently. He groans inwardly, his expression twisting into a displeased look. Heat flushes through him as his cock twitches, as though noticing his attention. He sighs miserably, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was not going to jack off on this train. He’d have to wait. He was supposed to be meeting Subaru when he got back, but he really didn’t feel like showing up with an obvious boner. He’d simply have to be late, not that this boner was giving him much choice. He couldn’t even shift his attention away from it. The flush creeping up his skin made the cool air of the train that much more potent. The sweat beading from his chest makes his shirt stick to him, brushing against him more directly. His unhurried, labored breaths only quickened with every twitch. He could feel his mind clouding, slowly succumbing to the pleasant sensations, and small, soft moans escaping his lips. He keens once, feeling his cock reach full mast and form a tent, desperate as he was for release. He shakes his head, gritting his teeth and curling his hands into fists. He was not going to jack off on this train.
He sits back upright, panting, certain his bangs were sticking to his forehead. Finally, the train makes an announcement. “Now arriving at Darwick Academy…” Haku sighs with relief, beyond ready to march back to his dorm room. He’s on his feet before the train even stops, driven blind by a need for release. He squeezes his thighs together, waiting at the door for the train to stop, shakily texting Subaru that he’d be late.
Zenji Kotodama: Pass (Unintentionally)
He didn’t even realize it was NNN, man. To him, it was purposely abstaining from it to fuel his inspiration. Like hunger and thirst, certain sensations do go away or are dulled when you die, but intense emotions remain… desire being one of them.
It’s harder than you’d think for a ghost to find some alone time. He’d finally finished composing his newest tune to play on his biwa, and wanted nothing more than to retreat to his own world. His newest tune had been about desire, something he felt so frequently as a ghost. A desire to live, a desire to be, a desire to connect with those around him. He also felt himself longing for physical pleasures, too. He can touch anything he wants… so long as it isn’t a living person. He just passes right through them. Thankfully, his dormmates that could see him do opt to pretend he can, but he wants to feel. He wants to touch. He wants to connect.
Unfortunately, until that day dawned, he’d have to settle for himself, his beloved doll, and everything else.
He’d left both the doll and his biwa out on one of Hotarubi’s may balconies, to watch the rain and the koi fish swimming in the ponds. Since Subaru knew he was “here”, he’d graciously allowed Zenji to keep a room, which he hardly uses, but is grateful for anyway. It is here that he retreats, letting the desire to touch brew into a boil. He grunts, dissatisfied, as he stalks to his bed, plopping his back onto the pillowy sheets. He groans, sinking into the bed. Despite his complicated mix of emotions, he still feels his arousal stir, feeling himself swell with the desire to touch, or be touched. He presses his lips into a thin line, welcoming the warmth as it swallows him whole. His cheeks flush and soft moans escape his lips as he imagines how it must feel; hands gently caressing his body, starting with his cheeks, then moving to his neck, gently trailing their nails across his sensitive skin, splaying their fingers wide on his chest, pressing them down hard as they pass over his nipples, moving lower, and lower, and lower… Zenji finds himself arcing into the imaginary touch, his dick twitching as though it were real. He shivers, following the insistent demand of his lower body and letting his hands trail further down his own body, hooking his thumb over his pants and tugging them down.
It isn’t long before he’s stroking his length, his desire taking hold of him completely. He throws his head back on the bed as he gently strokes himself, imagining someone else is teasing his length, taking slower strokes until they are satisfied. Zenji groans and begins thrusting into his hand, curling it tighter around his shaft. He traces his body with his other hand, touching and teasing all the places he’d like to be touched. He moans in tandem with each touch and thrust into his hand, feeling his peak reach him rapidly. He curls his free hand into his shirt as he cums, spurting his mess onto his hand and thighs. He turns his gaze down to his hand as he gently squeezes the last few drops out of himself. He’d have to keep settling for this.
a/n: caught my ass genuinely drooling as i was writing haku's part man im cooked. like!!! haku!! come to the old chapel... i'll totally give u head brew u some tea!!!! (tbh either way works he's so cute i just wanna spend time with him)
siiiiighhh anyways note that i appreciate likes, comments, and reblogs!!!! please tell me how much you enjoyed this! it means a lot to know you guys like my writing!
#minors dni#tkdb#tkdb smut#tokyo debunker#tokyo debunker smut#tokyo debunker x reader#tokyo debunker hotarubi#hotarubi#haku kusanagi x mc#haku kusanagi x reader#tokyo debunker haku#subaru kagami x mc#tokyo debunker subaru#subaru kagami#subaru kagami x reader#haku kusanagi#zenji kotodama#tokyo debunker zenji#zenji kotodama x reader#zenji kotodama x mc#taro kirisaki#tokyo debunker mc#tokyo debunker taro
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MUAHAHAHAHA I AM SO SATIATED!! Something I have been praying for has finally come to fruition, and I am BEYOND pleased.
Hazel, my dear, you continue to astound me. This was such an ENTERTAINING chapter. You really let the bitch flag fly, and I truly couldn’t be happier.
And don’t even get me started on the beginning or the middle between Alastor and Autumn… ughhh they really are too sweet with each other. Their love is so palpable and I’ll never get tired of reading about it 🥺♥️
I won’t say anything else here, because the chapter just needs to be read by y’all but~ screaming down below, per usual 😮💨
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
Forehead pressed against the wall of the bathroom, Alastor’s hand gripped the base of his cock and squeezed.
AAAAND WE’RE OFF 👀
He couldn’t mentally stay in a romantic mindset when it was just fingers and running water.
there’s something about this that’s really getting me like… he enjoys ‘making love’?? Not even trying to out that connotation on it, but it’s like a subconscious acknowledgment? does this make sense? 😭✨
He wasn’t going to knock up the drain or make the shower quiver so this seemed just wasteful.
and then this is just so on point for him, comically and logically 😂♥️
Your laugh at watching Alastor march through the bedroom sopping wet and butt naked choked you when your eyes lowered to see he was also rock hard.
the way I actually see this in my mind right now omg…
“I didn’t want to waste it.” His hips rutted into your side, the evidence of every place he touched were large dark spots on your clothes. “Do you want to —?”
THE DARK SPOTS! THE PASSION!
You always forgot his strength when looking at him. Until he was holding you up by the hips, for example, fucking you against the bedroom wall. Wet skin slapping against your thighs, panties swinging around your ankle with every thrust. A lovely way to start a Monday.
JESUS FUCKING CHRISTTT 🫠❤️🔥
The weekend had been spent with a very attentive and clearly apologetic Alastor. His hands had been more present on your body, always holding your hand or pulling your legs over his lap as you both read. Dinners with his feet tangled with yours. Nights with his head buried in your hair.
ughhh this is too sweet… even though he’s all torn up. The gestures are just so cute and intimate 🥺
Every time you sighed his name, he clenched his teeth to keep it back. He wouldn’t weaponize it. He’d struggled to keep the compelled confession buried into your lap before, but he could keep it together until the moment was happy and without the bitter taste of his disappointment still lingering on your tongue.
STOPPP I AM WRITHING AAHHH!!!
He felt you tighten around him, yes, a much better use of arousal. The good thing about his years of experience before you was he had time to learn. To know when to quicken his pace and when to focus on depth.
I actually can’t get over that even if he was going through the motions with others, he was still determined to make sure that it wasn’t sub-par and that’s really on brand for him.
His mind stayed there long after you finished and went into work. Leaving you behind was difficult, a small wiggling worm of fear deep in his skull that’d you’d vanish if his body wasn’t touching yours.
hey remember how I actually told you TO STOP??
“Hush.” You warned him, and he pretended to zip his lips shut and slip the imaginary key into your skirt pocket.
I’M GONNA FUCKING CRY I CAN PICTURE THIS TOO WELL
Brady would be popping up as soon as possible, you warned. There was no way he was dropping the issue. He’d be knocking on Alastor’s office door in no time.
Kenneth is incessant, and it’s genuinely what you want in a detective but also maybe go touch grass my guy.
Brenda far too loudly announced two detectives were there for him. She was side eyeing them with a sneer he could almost appreciate when she popped her head in to yell it.
BRENDA!! You’re a real one omg
“I’ll be right out.” Alastor set his work down and took a deep breath. Every piece of him wanted to rush from the room and strangle Brady on the office floor. He’d seen him many times before but the pesky detective didn’t know that. A tremble of excitement he shook away. Smile on, he left the office.
LET’S GET READY TO RUUUUMBLEEE
Bright eyes. Tired. Light hair. Pale. Clothes wrinkled. Sweat stains even though it was autumn already.
what did I say? Kenny needs to take to the air
“Good afternoon, detectives. Alastor. It’s a pleasure.” He extended his hand but only Freeman moved to shake it.
KENNETH YOU REALLY ARE SO FUCKING BOLD — you can’t even TRY to fake it??
“Edward Freeman. I am a big fan, sir. Your voice is made for radio.” Freeman shook Alastor’s with both of his own, not noticing his partner’s wide eyed horror. “Such a pleasure. I promise we won’t take too much of your time.”
AAAHHH EDWARD IS ONE OF US!! AHAHAHAHAHA FUCK YEAH!!
Alastor could have cackled directly into Brady’s face but managed to keep himself in check, “A face for radio too! Ha ha ha,” his laugh was loud, genuinely amused with himself, “Well it’s always a treat to meet a listener.”
he’s good at playing bitchy and humble — I am VIBRATING
Brady thought he’d black out. He’d began his day humming with anticipation, the high of having a name and occupation making him dizzy all weekend. The shock of Freeman immediately cozying up to his prime ( and sole ) suspect was throwing him off balance.
yeah, you got the rug pulled out from right under you. Tough luck, sport!
A string bean of a human in thin circular glasses was charming the wits off his partner.
KENNY THE HATER
“Girlfriend?!” Brenda choked on her coffee, her desk just some feet beside them. “You’re confused. I’d know if he had a girl.”
BRENDA!! 😂
“But you’d never! This is slander!”
when Brenda clutches pearls it’s honestly so endearing — I love her! 😭✨
Brenda was on her feet, a second from foaming at the mouth, “Out! You get out of this office at once!”
I AM CACKLING!! SHE’S REALLY OUT HERE TELLING THESE COPS TO LEAVE! 😂🙏🏻♥️
“Thank you, Brenda!” Alastor hissed, “Let’s continue this in my office, gentlemen.” His arm swung out to gesture to the open door.
Brenda was left fiddingly with her pearls in horror.
ACTUALLY CLUTCHING PEARLS!! AAAHH!!!
“So, now that we’re … free from that, what were you saying?” He tried to chuckle away the chaos, one hand gently smoothing his hair back.
suavecitoooo 😮💨
“Wouldn’t go that far… I’m embarrassed to admit it but yes I did take out a singer some time ago. Dancer too, I was told. But, I,” his hands slid in his pockets and he shrugged his shoulders, “I had a lovely time with her.” He gave Freeman a shy smirk, “I just didn’t want anything serious. Paid for her cab last time I saw her but I didn’t give her a dime for anything else.”
OOOHHH WHAT A COVER. It’s embarrassing but clever
“We were told you’d been seeing her for quite some time.” Brady had been prepared for every reply.
OF COURSE
“I loved going there. I first noticed her over a few weekends. Asked her out there, too. But after a few nights out she seemed a little… not worth the trouble, I’ll say.” He grimaced, “I really sound like a rake, huh?” He looked to Freeman, asking for the man’s acceptance with his eyes.
A RAKE!! This is one of my favorite little terms — it’s fitting hehe ♥️
Freeman chuckled at the suggestion, “Not at all! Good looking man such as yourself, nice job, no wife. I’d be sowing my oats so to speak too. We’re just hunting down some people for questioning regarding a missing manager.”
SOWING MY OATS!! EDWARD!! 😂
A twitch to the corner of Alastor’s smile, “Sorry detective, I assumed this here was your superior. He just has … an aura of experienced professionalism to him. Now where was I… a manager,” he shook his head, “Was he at The Bandstand by any chance?”
ALASTOR YOU FIEND!! 😮💨😂
Brady rolled his eyes. Alastor was definitely the man Beth mentioned; a daisy. The kind of man to fret over a stained tie or wet shoes.
So sloppiness is the height of masculinity, is that what I’m getting Kenneth? And wet shoes are a sensory fucking nightmare 😩
“People in …those kinds of establishments can’t expect civility.” His nails were digging through the cotton of his pants. It made him sick to say it. How many days did he kiss your bruises? How long had they lasted? Longer than Tommy, that was for sure. Outlived him by quite some time. His smile spread. Brady noticed it, clearing his throat.
UGHHH I feel sick too, but you’re doing so well my darling 🥺
Freeman turned back in his chair to look at Brady once more, this was his impromptu interview. He’d begged Freeman to take the early lunch. Brady promised him this was the guy and that if it wasn’t, he’d never bring it up again.
OH FUCK you really cornered yourself here, Ken.
This man in front of him was soft. He was feminine in some aspects, definitely quite lanky and seemingly devoid of real muscle. Brady hadn’t imagined his killer to be concerned about style or fashion, yet this man clearly put a lot into his appearance. He couldn’t imagine him killing anyone… perhaps a gun?
A GUN?? If this is your serial killer, you’d think people would have mentioned hearing guns popping off intermittently through NoLa, but go off I guess…
Alastor whistled, “Besides jazz and piano? I fish. Uh,” Alastor looked for threads of truth to add to the web, “I garden quite a bit, actually. Love to dance.”
A man of many talents 🥹♥️
“Born and raised, detective. Native son if there ever was one.”
He slipped out his notepad and slapped it against the fleshy part of his hand. Brady’s spirit was withering.
I can hear the tone of voice that did it too hehe
“Call anytime, but word to the wise. Brenda will answer first.” Alastor let out a loud and singular ‘ha!’
MY DARLING BITCH 🙏🏻♥️
Alastor took back his hand from Brady and wiped it off against his vest as soon as the men were turned around.
HAZELLL what a lovely way to incorporate this 😮💨✨
She warned him of people with heaviness, people who gathered bad energy like rain on a flat roof. That weight attracted likewise things. A gravity would form and pull in more and more darkness.
You’d mentioned a storm, and now Alastor was seeing that drip drip drip of the cracking roof.
THE IMAGERY! DEAREST YOU’RE PAINTING WITH WORDS AGAIN! 😩❤️🔥
A chill, insidious and violent made him turn on his heels and shut the door with force. There it was again, that fight or flight feeling. Twice in nearly as many days. Never did Alastor feel insecure in situations of life or death, not literal life or death that was. He didn’t care about dying.
SPOOKED! Kenneth is a wraith and you’re SPOOKED my darling 😰
If fear was a lark in his chest it’s little spine cracked and popped as it grew and mutated into a rageful osprey, anger opening his lungs and sinuses as blood rushed with renewed vigor. This was Brady’s fault, entirely. He was ruining everything. Alastor finally had what felt like everything he wanted and deserved (anger dampening his usual insecurity of what was meant for him) and Brady was going to tear it apart.
I’m getting “let’s begin” vibes but also I really need to you take a breath my love — don’t be rash!
“Those detectives! Accuse you of debauchery!”
He imagined telling her how his morning started, fucking the nude dancer against his bedroom wall, arleady shacking up out of wedlock. Maybe it’d kill Brenda? That’d be convenient.
that would, in fact, make her suffer cardiac arrest Alastor 🙈✨
“Welcome home!” You waited for the car door to close before greeting him, worrying over the timing. He froze between the car and the wooden steps. You stopped your swinging on the porch swing, noticing how odd it was to see someone completely still like that. You remembered the deer along the road. “What’s wrong?”
Every thought flew out his head and into the early setting sun. An odd deja vu came over him. He hadn’t heard those words in literal years. “No one has said that to me…since my mother died.”
FUCK THIS HIT ME REALLY HARD
Another moment as you parted and both of you realized how odd the situation was. The killer and his dancer playing house. For a brief second, maybe heaven mistook you for something normal and good.
YOU DESERVE YOUR HAPPINESS DAMN IT ;A;
“Oh, did you want company? I don’t mind going out.” His little smile made it hard to deny him.
OMGGG HOW DID YOU STAY STRONG???
“I really hate keeping secrets from you.” His fingers were pulling and pushing at the edge of the blanket.
his nervous little ticks are gonna be the death of me, they’re too endearing
“Brady and his partner came by today to my office, like you’d expected. I didn’t want to ruin our day, knowing how rarely we will live traditionally. But it’s just bothering the hell out of me.” His hands came to cover his cheeks and crawl into his hair out of stress. An overreaction, the weekend having truly discombobulated the man.
YOU’RE NEVER GONNA STOP HUH?!
Flowers, you thought. You should buy flowers on Saturday, too.
MY SOUL IS LEAVING MY BODY OMGGG HE DESERVES FLOWERS!
Alastor nerves hadn’t settled yet, even if he slept well beside you. Every day he came home and you were still there felt like he’d been holding his breath the entire drive home. During lunch he’d call the house so you could talk and eat together, in a sense. The conversation eased him, a confirmation you still liked him. An embarrassing fear he couldn’t let you on to.
I REALLY FUCKING CAN’T WITH YOU 🫠♥️
He didn’t understand you spent the week calling record shops in search of something specific. Plotting exactly how you’d do it. You’d mastered the phonograph in the room beside the kitchen and found an old vase in the back of the cupboard.
really digging the knife in oh my god 🥲
Alastor was honest with you that he left work early to check on Brady midweek. He was practically dancing through the kitchen when he reported Brady went home on time for the first night in what could have been weeks. And he did so looking like shit.
HA!
He sat quietly the rest of the work day, thinking over everything again. It still felt right, but Alastor didn’t look right. Maybe it was a group, some new gang in town. Perhaps Alastor had some business with them.
He’s not wrong, but I hate that he’s also going based of Alastor’s looks? Like THAT’S what’s gonna shake you up? 😂🙈
Is downtown just inherently dangerous, he wondered. He supposed the map lined up with the jazz scene, and where there is dance and liquor there’s crime.
KENNETH THE RELENTLESS OVER HERE
“He could be like that Holmes man in Chicago.” She smiled from across the meat and potatoes she’d slow cooked over the day.
YOU KEEP H.H. HOLMES OUT OF THIS!!
She let misplaced comment go, and moved to turn on the radio. Something to fill the silence. She wondered if her favorite program was on, though it was a little late for that.
imagine Alastor’s voice booming through your house Kenneth? You were spared by the narrative
The day finally came, your highly anticipated and scheduled confession. Saturday morning you slipped on your shoes, pushing back thoughts of everything they’d seen, and slid into the car. You had a game plan. Apartment, get your stash and change out your shoes. Head to the phonograph shop on Calliope and grab the record. Flower shop, something bright and fragrant. Stop by the theater for a bottle of whatever they were willing to part with. Call him from there to pick you up behind the building.
I AM GOING INSANEEE THIS IS SO SWEET
You didn’t need Ephi, full stop.
I meannn 💀💀💀
“I’ll call you from the theater so I can wait inside. Lo-,” Your mouth opened to say it, as you’d been practicing it in your head all week, “Lucky me I’m still welcome there.” A quick save.
I NEARLY CHOKED OH MY GOD
Barely a second into the room and you were already reeling with anger. What a skill she had.
I’d say! Calling it a skill is too kind
“What the fuck? Are you taking the furniture?! It’s a fucking dress.”
that’s honestly the least of your concerns you little bitch 😂🙈
As the distance between your problem and you became greater, the gap was closing in on Alastor and his.
LOVELY SEGUE
He was in the kitchen splashing his face with water, dusty from sweeping the porch, when he heard a car door slam shut.
THE CAUCASITY OF KENNETH I SWEAR TO FUCKING GODDD
Past the stairs and the kitchen doorway, he could see the shape of a man. He was standing in front of the greenhouse with both hands on his hips, staring at it. Bright hair reflecting the sun.
THE CAUCASITY, I SAY! Fuck Ken, you just went straight to the greenhouse?!
Brady nodded, a smug smile and a wink, “Sure do.”
I’m actually fucking seething???
Alastor returned to the kitchen for the key, grabbing a small paring knife and placing it in the back pocket of his slacks. Sharp and quick.
BABY PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON’T SUCCUMB TO THIS
“Water! Turns out plants love the stuff. Who knew!” Alastor’s fingers curled around the knife’s handle, “I prune, propagate, and repot them here and rinse it off after. Due to the shade of the table, the ground tends to stay wet longer.” He wondered if Brady had told anyone where he was. Maybe Freeman?
yeah, please convince yourself someone knows where he is my love — I really need you to keep it cool and just keep antagonizing this man 😭
Alastor laughed, “No, that was a lie. This is all meticulously maintained for aesthetics.”
YES KEEP IT UP
He’d been thinking this out for months now in a way, though, hadn’t he?
DON’T
As he watched Brady eye the land with a dismissive glance, he realized he’d never killed anyone at his home. It didn’t seem to be a good idea. Like they’d taint the land. Plus, killing the cop in the backyard was about as opposite of what you’d asked of him as he could get.
THIS IS GOOD — PLEASE DON’T, MY HEART IS SO TIGHT
The detective slapped his notebook against his palm and whistled, “Radio pays well, huh?”
“Better than a detective, maybe. But this was all my mother’s land.” He said it with pride, one hand leaving his pocket to gesture at the house and beyond.
that’s my bitch!! ♥️
“Your mother. And she… how exactly did someone like her get her hands on a plot like this?” Brady squinted at the tree line, knowing full well how he said it. “Quite a bit of land for someone of her… background.” He quickly turned his full body to Alastor, “You see that movie, ‘Murder!’, by Hitchcock? My wife was saying how interesting it was over dinner the other night. Your receptionist mentioned you like the movies.”
THIS FUCKING BIGOT I SWEAR TO GOD
Alastor bristled, he’d seen the film and picked up the tone being taken, “Did you want to see anything else, Kenneth? Or did you drive all the way here to quiz me on your wife's morbid interests?”
“Detective Brady.” He corrected.
NO. You heard our baby right KENNETH.
“Maybe in the Orleans parish.” Alastor took a step toward him. He reveled in the confused expression Brady made. “Oh you didn’t realize when you crossed the lake? This is St. Tammany. You’re out of jurisdiction.” Another step. “So I’ll call you whatever I damn well please.”
YESSSS!!! FLAY HIM WITH YOUR WORDS MY DARLING ♥️
Alastor’s arms went out in a shrug, “Ah, well, good luck finding a judge to approve you harassing a law abiding land owner for…what exactly? A drugged out criminal who stopped showing up to work? Forgive me for not holding my breath. Now kindly get the fuck off my mother’s property. “
This is getting dangerous! I never wanted the bitchfest to get dangerous!
Brady was still holding onto hope that Alastor was your man but now, his throat ran dry. He got more than that.
GOD DAMN IT!! FUCK!
Alastor’s hand twitched, he fought the rage bubbling up his throat. His vision was beginning to turn red around the edges. He could hear Aubrey squeaking out the first syllable of that damn word just behind his left ear.
Perhaps he was the blade hanging over Brady’s head.
FUCK!!!
With even paces he walked over to the stump where he chopped wood and pulled the axe out, “Ya know! Something about you makes my fucking skin crawl.” He pointed it at Brady, the detective taking note of the arm strength needed to hold the unevenly heavy tool steady and parallel to the ground. “I do hope for your sake this is our final meeting. You should leave now.” His head titled to the left, “And keep your nose clean, Kenneth. It’s a dangerous time for bad men in New Orleans.”
ALASTOR!!! FUCK!!!
As the car started Alastor dropped the axe until it’s flat top of the blade rested on the ground and he leaned his weight onto it akin to a cane. His free hand’s fingers waved goodbye before dropping down to his side limply. He stood there with eyes fixed and body still as a predator waiting for its opportunity. How many gators had Brady watched from the shore with just that look? He peeled out, sight unseen as he blindly backed onto the unpaved road, and made a beeline to the nearest phone.
He had to tell someone. He was right. He had been right the whole time. Alastor killed Tommy Dupre. And there was no doubt in Brady’s swirling mind that you knew that fact.
GGASAAHAKZNSIZJNSHS FUUUUCKKK!!!! I wanna be happy about another gator mention but A BITCH IS STRESSED!
A Doe in Fall (Part 14)
⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release Part 14 - Someone like her smut💦📍
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Where we left off: Alastor and Reader had a misunderstanding and a heavy talk on the back porch. He’d let it slip how deeply he felt but it was muffled by your thighs.
Part 14 Someone like her
Brady says the magic words after finally meeting his elusive radio man. But was that a good thing?
「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem!Reader, masturbation, Ace Alastor is trying his best, little smut to start the day, Brenda exists, Reader is also trying her best but it’s less hot, mentions of abuse, thinly veiled racism, Insecure Alastor, an axe, Alastor is the deer and gator」
MDNI ☎️💚🏡
Forehead pressed against the wall of the bathroom, Alastor’s hand gripped the base of his cock and squeezed.
He’d been trying to masturbate more, hoping to prolong things when with you, but the action was just so pointless. Yes it felt good, but so did scratching his back when he had an itch. But there was no itch here. He couldn’t mentally stay in a romantic mindset when it was just fingers and running water. What intimacy existed there? What was the point? Male orgasms were for procreation and pleasure, were they not? He wasn’t going to knock up the drain or make the shower quiver so this seemed just wasteful.
Images of your pleasured face ghosted behind his eyes. Nothing pointless about that. A twitch to the otherwise bored flesh in his grip.
Wasteful.
Your laugh at watching Alastor march through the bedroom sopping wet and butt naked choked you when your eyes lowered to see he was also rock hard.
“Oh.” Was all you managed before his shower was soaking through your cotton top and powder blue skirt. “Oh.” Ravenous mouth at your jawline.
“I didn’t want to waste it.” His hips rutted into your side, the evidence of every place he touched were large and dark wet spots on your clothes. “Do you want to —?”
His fingers were already crawling down your thighs and gathering your skirt up.
You always forgot his strength when looking at him. Until he was holding you up by the hips, for example, fucking you against the bedroom wall. Wet skin slapping against your thighs, panties swinging around your ankle with every thrust. A lovely way to start a Monday.
The weekend had been spent with a very attentive and clearly apologetic Alastor. His hands had been more present on your body, always holding your hand or pulling your legs over his lap as you both read. Dinners with his feet tangled with yours. Nights with his head buried in your hair.
The words were moaned through his own mind, scared to let them go again.
I just love you so much.
Every time you sighed his name, he clenched his teeth to keep it back. He wouldn’t weaponize it. He’d struggled to keep the compelled confession buried into your lap before, but he could keep it together until the moment was happy and without the bitter taste of his disappointment still lingering on your tongue.
An enlightened gasp dripped into a breathy moan as you realized this must be the make up sex the ladies always talk about. You’d never understood the concept before then.
He felt you tighten around him, yes, a much better use of arousal. The good thing about his years of experience before you was he had time to learn. To know when to quicken his pace and when to focus on depth. Quality over quantity, he thought.
His mind stayed there long after you finished and he went into work. Leaving you behind was difficult, a small wiggling worm of fear deep in his skull that’d you’d vanish if his body wasn’t touching yours.
You’d taken off some time from work, partly out of sheer embarrassment and partly to keep the theater safe from Brady. Which meant when he left for work, you kissed him goodbye at the door. You both laughed into the small space between your lips immediately afterwards.
“Hush.” You warned him, and he pretended to zip his lips shut and slip the imaginary key into your skirt pocket.
Alastor was happy to hear Brady had been told he had a handful of nothing but he knew his clock was ticking. You’d recounted your time in the station and how angry and disappointed the other detective had seemed with Brady. Brady would be popping up as soon as possible, you warned. There was no way he was dropping the issue. He’d be knocking on Alastor’s office door in no time.
Much sooner than Alastor had prepared for, but he was ever the performer.
Brenda far too loudly announced two detectives were there for him. She was side eyeing them with a sneer he could almost appreciate when she popped her head in to yell it.
“I’ll be right out.” Alastor set his work down and took a deep breath. Every piece of him wanted to rush from the room and strangle Brady on the office floor. He’d seen him many times before but the pesky detective didn’t know that. A tremble of excitement he shook away. Smile on, he left the office.
His observations came quick and loud as he saw Brady’s face in the daylight for the first time.
Bright eyes. Tired. Light hair. Pale. Clothes wrinkled. Sweat stains even though it was autumn already.
The man beside him was new to Alastor, and Alastor couldn’t tell yet what to do with him. Taller, older, darker complexion. His expression was relaxed in comparison to Brady’s stressed one.
“Good afternoon, detectives. Alastor. It’s a pleasure.” He extended his hand but only Freeman moved to shake it.
Brady was staring with blatant scrutiny. Alastor was quite tall, and much leaner than he had anticipated. His hair was perfectly in place, with clean skin and neat glasses. Was this the right man?
“Edward Freeman. I am a big fan, sir. Your voice is made for radio.” Freeman shook Alastor’s with both of his own, not noticing his partner’s wide eyed horror. “Such a pleasure. I promise we won’t take too much of your time.”
Alastor could have cackled directly into Brady’s face but managed to keep himself in check, “A face for radio too! Ha ha ha,” his laugh was loud, genuinely amused with himself, “Well it’s always a treat to meet a listener.”
Brady thought he’d black out. He’d began his day humming with anticipation, the high of having a name and occupation making him dizzy all weekend. The shock of Freeman immediately cozying up to his prime (and sole) suspect was throwing him off balance.
He’d brought him along so he could show him he’d gotten the right man. He’d thought —- he’d been so sure Alastor would be some second rate employee with rough hands and thick arms. Not the pretty host working behind some desk. Weren’t there large spools of cable and big contraptions radio station employees lugged around? Where were those men?
A string bean of a human in thin circular glasses was charming the wits off his partner.
“Brady. We’re here to discuss an important matter regarding your girlfriend.” Brady leaned in to separate the other two men and their budding camaraderie.
“Girlfriend?!” Brenda choked on her coffee, her desk just some feet beside them. “You’re confused. I’d know if he had a girl.”
“Thank you, Brenda.” Alastor said through a forced smile, “She is right though. I am unattached. Lifelong bachelor.”
“That’s interesting. Because when we picked her up at the burlesque theater,” he was cut off by a shriek.
“Nude dancing?! Sir! My—-you! Alastor would never! He is a man of means and class! I-,” Brenda’s hands were aimlessly shuffling time cards. “The only theater he frequents is the cinema.”
“Brenda.” Alastor laughed, not taking his eyes off of Brady, “Please. Let the man finish.”
“But you’d never! This is slander!”
“No slander. We picked her up for prostitution and her,” again he was drowned out by the receptionist.
Brenda was on her feet, a second from foaming at the mouth, “Out! You get out of this office at once!”
“Sure, why don’t we take this to the station.”
“You want a local celebrity,” Alastor’s eye twitched as Brenda screeched out the words, “to be marched down there like a common criminal! I’m calling the station, you’re mad.”
“Thank you, Brenda!” Alastor hissed, words heavy, “Let’s continue this in my office, gentlemen.” His arm swung out to gesture to the open door.
Brenda was left fiddingly with her pearls in horror.
Alastor followed the men in and leaned back against his desk casually, offering them the two chairs.
“So, now that we’re … free from that, what were you saying?” He tried to chuckle away the chaos, one hand gently smoothing his hair back.
“We took in a woman last week for prostitution. Charges dropped but — her friends said you were her beau.” Freeman leaned back too, crossing his legs at the ankle as they stretched out in front of him, “Radio man named Alastor? Not too many of those so, thought we’d just come by and check.”
Brady stood near the door, refusing to sit. “So. Gonna tell me there’s some more Alastors in New Orleans? Or gonna be straight with us?”
Alastor nodded, sighing through his nose. You’d filled him in already on the story.
“Burlesquer, right? Pretty thing with the long lashes and sharp tongue?” He looked up at Brady over his glasses, looking as boyish as a man his age could.
“So you are her fella?” Freeman’s back straightened. He hadn’t expected that.
“Wouldn’t go that far… I’m embarrassed to admit it but yes I did take out a singer some time ago. Dancer too, I was told. But, I,” his hands slid in his pockets and he shrugged his shoulders, “I had a lovely time with her.” He gave Freeman a shy smirk, “I just didn’t want anything serious. Paid for her cab last time I saw her but I didn’t give her a dime for anything else.”
Brady stared at every inch of the man before him. His white button up was loose at the arms but wasn’t appearing to hide some powerful physique that said ‘I drag bodies around town.’
“We were told you’d been going to see her for quite some time.” Brady had been prepared for every reply.
Alastor furrowed his brow and pretended to think, hand coming from his pocket to adjust his glasses, “Talking about the nice little joint near the park?”
“Yeah.” Brady smiled. “So you admit it.”
“I loved going there. I first noticed her over a few weekends. Asked her out there, too. But after a few nights out she seemed a little… not worth the trouble, I’ll say.” He grimaced, “I really sound like a rake, huh?” He looked to Freeman, asking for the man’s acceptance with his eyes.
Freeman chuckled at the suggestion, “Not at all! Good looking man such as yourself, nice job, no wife. I’d be sowing my oats so to speak too. We’re just hunting down some people for questioning regarding a missing manager.”
Brady thought his head would snap with how quickly he turned to Freeman. He was saying too much.
“He’s uh, drats what’s her name?” Freeman turned around to Brady. Brady looked up to Alastor expectantly.
“Oh! She gave me some fake name. Winter or… August. I didn’t press the matter.” Alastor walked back to his desk and sat down, trying to get eye level with Freeman who was the easier of the two to play, “Missing manager? I frequent a lot of clubs looking for talent. Maybe I knew the guy. What’s his name?”
“Tommy Dupre.” Brady said it sternly. “And I’m the one leading the investigation.”
A twitch to the corner of Alastor’s smile, “Sorry detective, I assumed this here was your superior. He just has … an aura of experienced professionalism to him. Now where was I… a manager,” he shook his head, “Was he at The Bandstand by any chance?” His fingers were flipping through his rolodex of business cards. Brady noted how clean his nails were. But not suspiciously so, not something that seemed overly tended to. He shook his head again more firmly then. “No, never formally met the man at least.”
“He was your burlesquer’s manager.”
Alastor leaned back and crossed his arms, “I never went to her work and I truly don’t visit burlesque theaters. Can't risk my reputation.” Few people out of the club scene knew his face and name so that was a load of shit, but he hoped they wouldn’t stop and consider that much. “We run a clean show here.”
“Here’s the issue, sir.” Freeman patted the tops of his thighs, “Your Ms. Doe-,” Alastor’s brow furrowed in momentary confusion.
“Oh! Ha, clever. I see what you did there.” He laughed, it was light and made Freeman nod his head in thanks.
“She got roughed up real bad by Mr. Dupre around the time ya’ll were seen together. He disappeared soon after. So, naturally….we wanted to see if you knew anything about what happened to him.”
“Doesn’t shock me to hear that.” Alastor's voice was high pitched and airy. His nonchalance was grating to the younger of the two detectives.
Brady rolled his eyes. Alastor was definitely the man Beth mentioned; a daisy. The kind of man to fret over a stained tie or wet shoes.
“People in …those kinds of establishments can’t expect civility.” His nails were digging through the cotton of his pants. It made him sick to say it. How many days did he kiss your bruises? How long had they lasted? Longer than Tommy, that was for sure. Outlived him by quite some time. His smile spread. Brady noticed it, clearing his throat.
“What’s the smile for?”
“Ah,” Alastor hid his mouth with the back of his hand, he couldn’t bite back the glee of remembering Tommy beg, “Sorry. I’m just feeling quite grateful I didn’t stick around to be pulled into some dame’s drama. This is exactly why I remain untethered.”
“Wish I’d had that foresight…I’m only joking. My Donna’s a blessing and a half.” Freeman quickly retracted the comment.
A moment of quiet as they all looked at each other. A natural dead end.
Freeman turned back in his chair to look at Brady once more, this was his impromptu interview. He’d begged Freeman to take the early lunch. Brady promised him this was the guy and that if it wasn’t, he’d never bring it up again.
So he was staring at his partner waiting for the never again to start.
Brady chewed the inside of his cheek, mind bouncing through thoughts and theories and observations.
This man in front of him was soft. He was feminine in some aspects, definitely quite lanky and seemingly devoid of real muscle. Brady hadn’t imagined his killer to be concerned about style or fashion, yet this man clearly put a lot into his appearance. He couldn’t imagine him killing anyone… perhaps a gun?
“Got any hobbies?”
“Kenny.” Freeman chided.
“Sir.” Brady added it sarcastically.
Alastor whistled, “Besides jazz and piano? I fish. Uh,” Alastor looked for threads of truth to add to the web, “I garden quite a bit, actually. Love to dance.”
Of course he did. “Sports?”
“I don’t watch nor listen to much of that.”
“No,” an exasperated sigh, “Do you play any sports?”
“Oh!” Another casual laugh that grated Brady’s senses, “No, no. I wouldn’t pretend I’m an athletic man.”
“Hunting is a popular pastime around here, you ever go out shooting?”
“No sir, not my scene.” Alastor leaned back and swiveled his chair side to side.
No hunting, really? Brady’s brows rose in suspicion, “….you from New Orleans?”
Freeman crossed his legs, a simple act that somehow conveyed a rising loss of patience.
“Born and raised, detective. Native son if there ever was one.”
He slipped out his notepad and slapped it against the fleshy part of his hand. Brady’s spirit was withering.
A mistake?
“Understood.” Pushing off of the wall.
“Sorry to cause all this fuss over … my tryst with a dancer not too long ago.” Another bashful bachelor smile. “But it was just that. Fun. I never met her employer. I never even went to her shows. As for the place by the park-,”
“Beth’s.”
Alastor grinned to hide the flinch, “My doe, as you put it sir, was a real canary. But I haven’t been back there since I stopped seeing her. I’m sure if you asked they’d tell you the same.” The phone rang and Alastor apologized, putting a finger up, “Yes, Brenda?” The incessant woman asked what was taking so long. He smiled and nodded, “Thank you, tell them I’ll just be another minute.”
“We’ll be heading out. It seems I need to— to re-examine some things. Dig a little deeper.” Before Brady could retrieve his card to offer it to the radio host, Alastor was handing him his.
“Call anytime, but word to the wise. Brenda will answer first.” Alastor let out a loud and singular ‘ha!’
He rose to walk them out and Brady extended his hand again for him to shake, his stomach curdling at the touch. When the detective squeezed and shook his hand so hard his arm was moving up to the elbow he just laughed. He kept his own grip loose.
The limp and slender hand in his was disappointing. A final nail in his coffin, soft metal bending as it was struck.
Freeman smiled and hopped up, “Been a pleasure!”
Alastor took back his hand from Brady and wiped it off against his vest as soon as the men were turned around.
“Apologies for the disturbance, ma’am.” Brady kept his gaze down as he passed Brenda. Freeman set his card on her desk as he walked past.
“That’s a bunch of applesauce.” She hissed, refusing to stand.
Alastor’s mother taught him many things. Of this world and the other. Of the spirits always roaming and waiting. Of blue ceilings and birds hitting windows.
She warned him of people with heaviness, people who gathered bad energy like rain on a flat roof. That weight attracted likewise things. A gravity would form and pull in more and more darkness.
You’d mentioned a storm, and now Alastor was hearing that drip drip drip of the cracking roof.
He’d been taught to steer clear of those people with that darkness, because you don’t want to be there when the roof caved in.
She’d likened it to the sword of Damocles, don’t be so close you get cut when the blade finally drops. Don’t become collateral damage.
When his skin touched Brady’s, he felt that heaviness. The gravity. We’re you both slipping down the sloping pull of his swirling negativity?
He felt the urge to spit, which was uncouth and unlike him. Brenda was talking loudly to him but she was deep under the ocean and muffled perfectly well. His drunken mind had been wrong about many things, but one line of thinking had been on the money.
Something had to be done. An accident playing out in slow motion before him, threatening to take you both down with it.
A chill, insidious and violent made him turn on his heels and shut the door with force. There it was again, that fight or flight feeling. Twice in nearly as many days. Never did Alastor feel insecure in situations of life or death, not literal life or death that was. He didn’t care about dying.
The thought of losing you was that first trigger, but what was causing this one? What was his gut trying to warn him about now?
Distance was needed. He needed to get as far from that detective and his gravitational pull as possible. Perhaps not physically, but in every other sense. There was safety in that, he could feel it just over the disorienting whirl of fear.
If fear was a lark in his chest it’s little spine cracked and popped as it grew and mutated into a rageful osprey, anger opening his lungs and sinuses as blood rushed with renewed vigor. This was Brady’s fault, entirely. He was ruining everything. Alastor finally had what felt like all of the thj he wanted and deserved (anger dampening his usual insecurity of what was meant for him) and Brady was going to tear it apart.
There was a struggle to decide how to proceed. He thought perhaps telling you would bring him clarity, but if you asked him to not do anything at all he couldn’t be sure he’d be able to stop from lying to your face about his intentions.
A flash of confidence knowing he’d never lied to you died quickly, oh, he had lied to you. He’d lied to you in the alley before leaving to prepare to kill Tommy. He’d said it was the greater good of the community. A stain on his otherwise pristine morality when it came to you.
“How could they?”
Alastor’s head popped up, Brenda had opened his door unannounced and continued her raving.
“How could who do what?” He asked, smile small.
“Those detectives! Accuse you of debauchery!”
He imagined telling her how his morning started, fucking the nude dancer against his bedroom wall, arleady shacking up out of wedlock. Maybe it’d kill Brenda? That’d be convenient.
“I wonder if they are even real cops…I promise, I won’t let that nonsense back into this office, Alastor.” She gave him a thumbs up and left, leaving the door ajar.
Daylight was already creeping away sooner and sooner as the seasons began to change. The first day Alastor was gone and you were completely alone in his home for an extended period of time was passed in an awkward boredom. There wasn’t much to do…his house was kept tidy, food didn’t take much time, and you had no means to get into town. So you listened through his record collection, carefully turning the vinyls over with delicate fingers. You’d heard oils from your hand could ruin the grooves. No idea if that was true, but you couldn’t risk it. Alastor’s job kept relatively regular hours, so when you knew he had most likely left work you headed out front to wait. It was a foreign thing to do, and a little embarrassing. Dogs waited for their masters to come home. You stuffed the comparison down, knowing you were once again comparing apples to oranges. Worse than that, dogs to yourself.
“Welcome home!” You waited for the car door to close before greeting him, worrying over the timing. He froze between the car and the wooden steps. You stopped your swinging on the porch swing, noticing how odd it was to see someone completely still like that. You remembered the deer along the road. “What’s wrong?”
Every thought flew out his head and into the early setting sun. An odd deja vu came over him. He hadn’t heard those words in literal years. “No one has said that to me…since my mother died.”
Oh.
Oh. That was….sad. You grimaced. “Should I not say it then?”
“No!” He came to life, “I mean, yes. No, You should say it. If you want. It’s nice.” Staccato sentences as he took the three steps in just two. He leaned over on a novel instinct for a kiss, and you leaned up to meet him.
Another moment as you parted and both of you realized how odd the situation was. The killer and his dancer playing house. For a brief second, maybe heaven mistook you for something normal and good. When you smiled, trying to not say the obvious as you always did, he decided to not mention Brady. His first night coming home to you shouldn’t have to compete with that news. Tomorrow, he decided. He’d just….leave out which day Brady had stopped by. Not a lie, just an excluded, superfluous detail.
As you ate your dinner and he recounted his day, you made a decision of your own.
“Hey, Saturday, can you drop me off downtown for a bit? I need to change my shoes and do a little shopping.”
You needed the gift, to set the mood for your confession. You’d survived your first fight, you didn’t combust into a ball of fire when you kissed him goodbye for work, it made sense to do it now.
“Oh, did you want company? I don’t mind going out.” His little smile made it hard to deny him.
“Ah well, my friend is still staying over at my place and she may get uneasy with a man around. And my shopping….is at the kind of places men shouldn’t go. Frilly lacy places.” A terrible liar. “You should do something fun for Alastor! I’ll be maybe…four hours or so.”
He chewed slowly, since the misunderstanding he was a little more nervous than usual. You didn’t want him to join you, were you worried Brady would see? He shook his head, confusing you.
“...excuse me?” You laughed, “No?”
His head popped up, he still sometimes forgot you were right there and not on a phone, “Sorry, I was thinking about what to do with myself. No problem, sweetheart. You can just call me when you’re ready and I’ll head back into town. I’ll stick around the house, get some stuff ready for winter.”
“Perfect!” Perfect.
So it was decided. He would tell you tomorrow that Brady came by his office. And you’d tell him Saturday that you were in love with him.
That was the short lived plan. He couldn’t manage to wait. When the silence of the night settled and you had turned over to try and fall asleep, he broke.
“I really hate keeping secrets from you.” His fingers were pulling and pushing at the edge of the blanket.
You have secrets? You turned around and sat up.
“Brady and his partner came by today to my office, like you’d expected. I didn’t want to ruin our day, knowing how rarely we will live traditionally. But it’s just bothering the hell out of me.” His hands came to cover his cheeks and crawl into his hair out of stress. An overreaction, the weekend having truly discombobulated the man.
A beat of confusion, tense for Alastor but void of anything for you, until you burst into a relaxed laughter, “You’re ridiculous. You were really eaten up huh?”
“It isn’t funny!”
“It’s a litlte funny.” you pulled his head down onto your lap, “You coulda told me. It doesn't ruin anything. I told you he was going to look for you. I didn’t think he’d do it the next business day, but still.” He shifted his body to lie on his side and let you take off his glasses and set them on your side table. “Do you think he still suspects you?”
He thought about it. A little.
Maybe.
Brady seemed dejected when he had left, but he could see the wheels turning in his head as he was still searching for a way to make this puzzle pieces fit.
“Probably. His partner seemed to believe me. A listener, it turns out.” Alastor pouted, still upset at your laughter.
“That’s hilarious. I bet it pissed him off to no end, right?”
“He looked shocked. It was difficult to not laugh.” He let his legs fall off the side of the bed so he could turn onto his back and look up at you. “I told him you were a fling, that I had my fun and then disappeared because you were trouble. I said nude dancers getting beat up should be expected. I don’t mean that.”
“Of course you don’t. I remember your face when you saw through my makeup. Sure didn't look expected to me.”
His legs drew up, knees pressed together. “Was it still a good day?”
“You told me what was on your mind instead of driving yourself mad about it. It was a perfect day.” The open window let in enough light to see his stress melt away from the corner of his eyes.
He sat up and kissed your nose, “Thank you. You can sleep now.”
“Oh, I've been asleep the whole time. You’re gonna have to do this all again in the morning.”
“That’s not funny.”
You kissed his cheek and he smiled away the frown before settling back onto his side of the bed to earnestly sleep.
Flowers, you thought. You should buy flowers on Saturday, too.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Alastor nerves hadn’t settled yet, even if he slept well beside you. Every day he came home and you were still there felt like he’d been holding his breath the entire drive. During lunch he’d call the house so you could talk and eat together, in a sense. The conversation eased him, a confirmation you still liked him. An embarrassing fear he couldn’t let you on to.
He didn’t understand you spent the week calling record shops in search of something specific. Plotting exactly how you’d do it. You’d mastered the phonograph in the room beside the kitchen and found an old vase in the back of the cupboard.
The panic didn’t settle for you either though. It just shifted to the confession from Brady. As if through osmosis, Brady was now Alastor’s main concern as soon as their hands shook. You were less scared, as he really did seem to be dismissed by his colleague from what you saw. Dejected and forlorn from what Alastor had described.
Alastor was honest with you that he left work early to check on Brady midweek. He was practically dancing through the kitchen when he reported Brady went home on time for the first night in what could have been weeks. And he did so looking like shit.
And he felt like shit. When they left the radio station, Freeman gave him the silent treatment the entire ride back to work. He opened his mouth to offer an alternative theory, perhaps you or Alastor had a brother, but Freeman immediately shut him down.
“Stop. Enough.” He snapped from his desk. “It is over, Kenny. Let it go. Maybe some monster is out there doing all this crazy shit you think they are but it’s not this man nor this lady so just fucking drop it.”
He sat quietly the rest of the work day, thinking over everything again. It still felt right, but Alastor didn’t look right. Maybe it was a group, some new gang in town. Perhaps Alastor had some business with them.
Staring at his neatly folded map of downtown, his fingers slid over the last known locations of the various missing people over the past year.
Is downtown just inherently dangerous, he wondered. He supposed the map lined up with the jazz scene, and where there is dance and liquor there’s crime.
He went home to his wife and startled her with his promptness. While she was elated, he felt hollow. Purposeless. Freeman had warned him he’d invented this conspiracy to make work more interesting. Maybe that was right. Life was boring. Everything was so steady and stable. Nothing exciting anymore. It’s possible. He could have imagined a connection.
But his wife accidentally stoked the dying flame of his suspicions.
When he told her everything, about Alastor and the dancer he chased down and the missing Tommy, she hummed.
“He could be like that Holmes man in Chicago.” She smiled from across the meat and potatoes she’d slow cooked over the day.
Brady asked what she meant.
“He killed all these people at his hotel. On the outside he was a very fine looking man! Respected doctor, or something.” She took her time to chew, leaving Brady waiting for the point, “Turns out his hotel had some secret dungeon where he killed people. I’m fuzzy on the details, but, he hung for it. Maybe your guy has a secret room in his house or a cabin in the woods.”
He would have kissed her but he was too tired to move. As she continued on, changing to the topic of novels and then movies, he pushed the potatoes around his plate.
No way work would listen to him if he suggested it. He’d lost all of his goodwill. But, as a citizen, he could maybe just….look into the public records for the radio man. Any convenient structures he owned. No one needed to know, no embarrassment if he was wrong again.
Just, one more check. To be absolutely sure. For his peace of mind.
“So he murdered the actress for threatening to reveal he was only half white! It was a real shock. I swear talkies just get more and more intriguing.” She beamed sweetly across the table, happy to have him home, “By Hitchcock. Isn’t that a hoot?”
He nodded absentmindedly, “Sounds fun, dear.”
She let the misplaced comment go, and moved to turn on the radio. Something to fill the silence. She wondered if her favorite program was on, though it was a little late for that.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
The day finally came, your highly anticipated and scheduled confession. Saturday morning you slipped on your shoes, pushing back thoughts of everything they’d seen, and slid into the car. You had a game plan. Apartment, get your stash and change out your shoes. Head to the phonograph shop on Calliope and grab the record. Flower shop, something bright and fragrant. Stop by the theater for a bottle of whatever they were willing to part with. Call him from there to pick you up behind the building.
Flawless.
Honestly, the easy part.
Alastor dropped you off in front of your building and you kissed him hurriedly. You didn’t need Ephi bounding down the steps and introducing herself.
You didn’t need Ephi, full stop.
“I’ll call you from the theater so I can wait inside. Lo-,” Your mouth opened to say it, as you’d been practicing it in your head all week, “Lucky me I’m still welcome there.” A quick save.
You waved him off and bounded up the steps. Ephi answered when you knocked, hair disheveled and still wearing the dress she must have worn out the night before.
A familiar dress.
“Who said you could wear my clothes?!” You kicked the door closed behind you.
Ephi fell back onto your bed with a creaking of the metal springs, “You didn’t say I couldn’t.”
Barely a second into the room and you were already reeling with anger. What a skill she had.
Shoes off, you threw them on top of the closet out of her natural reach and searched for something flatter. Not too flat though. Alastor always looked too good for you to look like you didn’t care for what was fashionable.
Deep breaths, you grabbed the dresser with both hands and wretched it from the wall, startling Ephi back awake.
“What the fuck? Are you taking the furniture?! It’s a fucking dress.”
Relief as you saw the handkerchief still taped to the backboard of the shelf. Ripping it off, you shoved it into your bag. No need to count it, had Ephi found the cash the entire thing would be gone already.
“Are you hiding money around your apartment…,” it wasn’t a question so much as an oddly worded accusation.
Your march to the door paused, briefly entertaining carrying your remaining clothes around with you but abandoning the idea. Let her borrow them for now, you were busy today.
You were gone without a goodbye, anger simmering away and evaporating with every block.
As the distance between your problem and you became greater, the gap was closing in on Alastor and his.
He was in the kitchen splashing his face with water, dusty from sweeping the porch, when he heard a car door slam shut. Not a normal sound for him to hear. Even more out of place than a ‘welcome home’. A moment of concern as he quickly dried his hands, maybe you had gotten a ride home already. It was possible he missed your call, but he’d kept the windows open to hear the phone.
When he came to the front door, no one was there. A car was parked a ways behind his own though. Alastor stepped out and looked around the wrap around porch before turning back and going to the back door. Past the stairs and the kitchen doorway, he could see the shape of a man. He was standing in front of the greenhouse with both hands on his hips, staring at it. Bright hair reflecting the sun.
The screen door whined as Alastor opened it, announcing him much sooner than he had wanted. It was finally happening. The moment that was both inevitable and fiercely guarded against.
“Census information is quite easy to find with a name like yours.”
Alastor tried to muster a hospitable smile, “Detective Brady. To what do I owe the sudden visit?”
Brady turned around and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, “I need to go get a warrant?”
The air between them tightened. “Not at all, did you want to come inside?”
Brady nodded, a smug smile and a wink, “Sure do.”
Alastor returned to the kitchen for the key, grabbing a small paring knife and placing it in the back pocket of his slacks. Sharp and quick.
“Wasn’t expecting guests…,” he admitted as he came back down the clean steps. He was never expecting guests, but he had been expecting this.
“Good.” Brady clapped his hands together, “Quite the building ya got here.” He followed Alastor in and immediately looked up to the tall ceiling. “An uncommon thing to have. Only seen them at real fancy public places.”
Alastor turned right, following the winding path of busy shelves and potted trees with a practiced ease. Brady watched him slip between two large plants and hesitated.
With a hand on his gun, be pushed through.
“Ya know what my wife and I were just talking about?” He followed close behind. He couldn’t see Alastor but he could hear the leaves rustling. “H. H. Holmes.”
“Another missing manager?” Alastor asked from the other side of some crowded shelves.
“It’s thought he killed 9 people up in Chicago.” Brady emerged from the makeshift jungle to see Alastor standing in the center.
“Busy man!” Alastor stood with his hands behind his back, sheathed in his pockets. “This is where the magic happens!” He nodded to the stainless steel table. “My gardening space.”
Brady looked at the table, then up to the high ceilings again. He took a step toward the table and crouched down.
His heels sunk in. Standing, he pressed his shoe in the soil around the table. Backing off he then tested the ground some feet away. It was noticeably firmer. “Ground sure is soft over there.”
“Water! Turns out plants love the stuff. Who knew!” Alastor’s fingers curled around the knife’s handle, “I prune, propagate, and repot them here and rinse it off after. Due to the shade of the table, the ground tends to stay wet longer.” He wondered if Brady had told anyone where he was. Maybe Freeman?
The whole thing could be expedited by letting him bleed out on the greenhouse floor. Just a few swipes and this could all be over. He could maybe even have him gone before you called.
Another little secret. Just one. Brady’s life was an insignificant detail.
Plausible, the detective thought. Brady examined the floor closer, unaware of Alastor’s eyes locked on his neck. He didn’t see much of a soft spot. It’d be improbable to bury all the bodies in such a small space. He’d have to dig too deep.
“So you actually do like to garden?” He asked.
Alastor laughed, “No, that was a lie. This is all meticulously maintained for aesthetics.”
Brady’s own laugh was dry in reply, the joke not funny or appreciated, “Night gardening?” He pointed his chin up to the light hanging above them.
“I prefer early mornings, before work.” Alastor leaned back on his heels, he’d waited for this conversation for years. It was almost fun. Brady didn’t know how predictable his arrival had been on some vague level.
Brady nodded and motioned for Alastor to lead him out. He didn’t want the man behind him.
As they snaked their way out again, Alastor fought the sickening feeling in his stomach to just do it.
But he’d never acted quite so impulsively. He normally had a few hours to think it out beforehand.
He’d been thinking this out for months now in a way, though, hadn’t he?
Alastor locked the door after Brady stepped out and Brady looked around the land. He couldn’t see any fences, but saw on his way in just how spread out the other homes were.
“How far is the property line, if you don’t mind me asking? Seems to be quite a large parcel.” He had a rough idea from the paperwork he’d found.
“It’s about 15 acres, from what I recall.” It was exactly 14.2 acres according to the paperwork. He knew every step by heart.
As he watched Brady eye the land with a dismissive glance, he realized he’d never killed anyone at his home. It didn’t seem to be a good idea. Like they’d taint the land. Plus, killing the cop in the backyard was about as opposite of what you’d asked of him as he could get.
The detective slapped his notebook against his palm and whistled, “Radio pays well, huh?”
“Better than a detective, maybe. But this was all my mother’s land.” He said it with pride, one hand leaving his pocket to gesture at the house and beyond.
“Your mother. And she… how exactly did someone like her get her hands on a plot like this?” Brady squinted at the tree line, knowing full well how he said it. “Quite a bit of land for someone of her… background.” He quickly turned his full body to Alastor, “You see that movie, ‘Murder!’, by Hitchcock? My wife was saying how interesting it was over dinner the other night. Your receptionist mentioned you like the movies.”
Alastor bristled, he’d seen the film and picked up the tone being taken, “Did you want to see anything else, Kenneth? Or did you drive all the way here to quiz me on your wife's morbid interests?”
“Detective Brady.” He corrected.
“Maybe in the Orleans parish.” Alastor took a step toward him. He reveled in the confused expression Brady made. “Oh you didn’t realize when you crossed the lake? This is St. Tammany. You’re out of jurisdiction.” Another step. “So I’ll call you whatever I damn well please.”
Brady finally noticed the dwindling space between them and the shadow of the house creeping over Alastor’s face. “Maybe I should head out and get that warrant.”
Alastor’s arms went out in a shrug, “Ah, well, good luck finding a judge to approve you harassing a law abiding land owner for…what exactly? A drugged out criminal who stopped showing up to work? Forgive me for not holding my breath. Now kindly get the fuck off my mother’s property. “
Brady shook his head, not able to do much more. He couldn’t process the truth in what Alastor had said. “Have a good day, Alastor.”
“And you have a safe night, Kenneth.”
Brady stopped, hand curling into a fist that Alastor didn’t fail to notice.
“Is that some kind of threat?” It was the way he dragged out the two words. The gleeful range in which he said them.
“Not at all. A warning really, there’s been some unhinged man harassing dancers lately. Demanding their private information, accusing them of silly crimes. Has the station not heard?” Alastor’s finger came to his chin inquisitively, “Perhaps I should give them a call. Who was your boss again. Freeman, was it?”
Brady felt his stomach drop, “What did you say.” If Alastor hadn’t been with you since before the assault, how did he know that Brady had been struggling to track you down?
“As a man about town who runs in important circles, word travels fast of bothersome people. Helps us learn where to avoid.”
Brady was still holding onto hope that Alastor was your man but now, his throat ran dry. He got more than that.
A man who ran in various circles of the nightlife scene.
A man above the fray, a position afforded to him by the respect of his job.
A man people talked to often, therefore a man people saw everywhere. So it was never odd that he was always in the places where people went missing. He was ubiquitous. Where the jazz played, Alastor was there.
A man with no wife to complain so his nights were free.
A large piece of land. A chip on his shoulder.
“You son of a bitch…I didn’t tell you Tommy had been involved in drugs. I was right.” The sentence got quieter and softer as he trailed on until he could only whisper, “You killed him.”
Alastor watched the color drain from Brady’s face as the realization hit, but the ‘son’ comment blanketed his frontal cortex and dampened impulse control, “On second thought; yes.”
It was just an expression, son of a bitch, but it’d been the wrong one to use so carelessly. Alastor’s heart was pounding in his ears and behind his eyes.
The detective kept his gaze locked on Alastor as he fished out his keys. His hand shook violently as he tried to get the car door key in his fingers. “Yes what?” Glancing down for a fraction of a second to check he had the right one.
“That was a threat.”
Alastor’s hand twitched, he fought the rage bubbling up his throat. His vision was beginning to turn red around the edges. He could hear Aubrey squeaking out the first syllable of that damn word just behind his left ear.
Perhaps he was the blade hanging over Brady’s head.
With even paces he walked over to the stump where he chopped wood and pulled the axe out, “Ya know! Something about you makes my fucking skin crawl.” He pointed it at Brady, the detective taking note of the arm strength needed to hold the unevenly heavy tool steady and parallel to the ground. “I do hope for your sake this is our final meeting. You should leave now.” His head titled to the left, “And keep your nose clean, Kenneth. It’s a dangerous time for bad men in New Orleans.”
Brady walked backwards to his car as Alastor advanced briskly with the blade still raised. When they reached the front porch Brady turned and booked it, glancing behind to see Alastor standing beside the porch on foot worn grass.
As the car started Alastor dropped the axe until it’s flat top of the blade rested on the ground and he leaned his weight onto it akin to a cane. His free hand’s fingers waved goodbye before dropping down to his side limply. He stood there with eyes fixed and body still as a predator waiting for its opportunity. How many gators had Brady watched from the shore with just that look? He peeled out, sight unseen as he blindly backed onto the unpaved road, and made a beeline to the nearest phone.
He had to tell someone. He was right. He had been right the whole time. Alastor killed Tommy Dupre. And there was no doubt in Brady’s swirling mind that you knew that fact.
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:・
˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖
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#THE TENSION IS DELICIOUS I CAN ONLY HOPE TO SURVIVE IT#AAHHH!!!#alastor x reader#human alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fan fiction#x reader#article by mink
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been a year since the last update on this...oops
surprisingly it was veilguard that inspired me to add a bit more to this, and i have a little break before i have to go into con prep mode again
so barla von, petrovsky, grunt and samara have been added since last update :)
#my art#wip#mass effect#gonna keep going this weekend see how i go :)#i truly still want to finish this but it was always gonna take a while and the brain gets distracted when the flow stops for whatever reaso
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how my parents feel after always reminding me how much better my older brother is than me
#seriously i remember when my mom flat out said ‘he’s smarter than you’#like i know that already lol?#they won’t shut up about him#had a good old break down last night realizing that i’m never gonna be my parents pride and jou the same way he is#they seriously brag about him wherever he goes#‘oh he’s in an ivy!!111!!”#and then i’m just in the damn background because my younger brother is a freshman in HS and he’s having it rough#so my own issues are resolved by ‘get over it’ or ‘oh well you’re motivated at least’#i’m not fucking motivated i just want to prove i’m just as good#or even a fraction as good#i’ll never be enough though#the mere fact my mom was considering canceling going to see the outsiders w/me because my brother has off that weekend and she’d rather go#see him kinda shows that#keep in mind we’re seeing him in two weeks and we’re going up literally the next weekend to see him#and they keep talking scour how they can’t wait until i’m in college#i can’t say anything to them though because they’ll get mad and tell me i’m being overdramatic#it feels like they want to get rid of me or smth#it hurts#a lot#i feel like i don’t have anyone because i can’t complain to my parents because i’m overshadowed by both my brothers#and i don’t know how to communicate my feelings without being a burden or sharing too much#i just feel lost#vent#sibling rivalry
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reading random bits of my story and being genuinely surprised how happy i am with them??
#today feels like a day to disconnect from reality and escape in fiction#i randomly scrolled to a page in my fave fic and i was like?? wow its actually still good?#my favorite thing to do when i dont want to write new stuff but still want to write is just go back and re edit from the beginning#i couldnt tell you how many times ive rewritten my fics haha#i can definitely see some changes needed when i was scrolling but im impressed with my past self 😆#i got a little bit stuck editing the beginning since i had a major rewrite idea but im excited to keep going!! gonna be rainy this weekend#prime time to work on a gotham set fic
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its so embarassing likee. going to talk abt a feeling you have but you already know ppl will be like Oh that sounds like depression lol and its like. well yes . i know . trust me i am so aware i am depressed . but its still like a thing ive been thinking abt and wanting to talk abt but ik itll just be like Ok hun 👍. idk idk what response i would want tho ig FNFNFNF
#not anything serious i was just thinking how like. idk. this is gonna sound rly stupid#but for me personally like. sometimes. How do i phrase this without sounding rly evil#i think obv ppl can spend their money however they want but like. its kind of hard 4 me to grasp sometimes like. there r things that ppl#spend a lot of money on bc it makes them happy like umm. vacations or pets or hobbies or whathaveyou. and obviously thats fine but#i iust feel like its all so. temporary and like. idk. idt im ohrasing this right at all i just likee. the thought of working all year to#afford to take a vacation and then working again to afford another vacation just makes me feel like i want to die. like. idk... i like#vacations we dont need to go on them a lot but ig its just like. everything we do just feels like a waste of time. not in like a Ohh you#should be doing more work Obviously its just like. idk. maybe it is just me. but i feel like im just waiting until i die and can be done#with it i guess. and everything i do is just to fill time until that happens. yk ? which is silly bc of my whole. Thing i cant talk abt#but ppl talk abt like. going out and partying or going on vacation or whatever and i like. I like those things its nice when they happen#but they dont rly make me longterm any happier i guess. everything just feels like another thing im doing. idk. this rly isnt coming out the#way it is in my head. and Again i know this is just depression shit or whatever im just like. its all exhausting. it just makes me feel so#tired. to think abt working and working and working so i can pay to be alive and i can save to do one fun thing every so often to keep me#sane enough to keep working and working and working and i probably wont ever be able to retire itll just be. work. and then ill die. yk.#but i feel like the vacations and stuff dont like. refresh me very much. maybe its just bc ive only been on one 'vacation' as an adult and#it was just like. coming home to see my family. and realizing id have to move back home yk..#+ like. my mom nd my gran taking me out for a weekend when i lived up there#nd those things were nice and all but once its over its like. it doesnt fuel me to keep going it doesnt make me feel any better abt having#to work for the rest of my life#ik im being ridiculous bc im literally unemployed and i cant even get up off my ass to get my stupid fucking ged so i can get a job and be#Useful to my family its just like. idk.... i try so hard to be like Oh nothing mayters and thats why everything matters type thing like. Yes#all things end and the point is to just try to be happy until it does#but i feel like it just doesnt happen for me. i feel like any happiness i feel is so insanely like. it happens and then its gone. and its#back to just. the knowledge that im still fucking stuck here. and i will be until it happens. yk. i play video games tomoass the time until#i go back to sleep then i wake up and i make a spreadsheet to pass the time until i go back to sleep#and everyday just feels like passing the time until i go back to sleep and itll just keep going until it happens. and its nice to have nice#days but whats like. the point. yk. everything just ends#IDK. this is all very whiny im sry. ive just been feeling it a lot lately . i hope this doesnt feel like me being like Ohhh you ppl r so#dumb participating in hobbies and going out and having fun dont you know yr gonna DIE? thats not what im trying to be like#its just like. i feel like it doesnt make me as happy as it does other ppl like. none of it refreshes me or makes me want to keep going
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Beginning to really wonder how much of my financial concern is manufactured and handed to me as opposed to something I'm genuinely concerned by
#bc like. i'm getting by just fine. i don't have anything to be reasonably worried about#but also when i was a kid my father would break down my mother's paycheck and basically explain how broke we were#and that May Have Affected Me Somewhat#as well as just. the way you consistently see the advice to just save! don't get takeout! necessities! and i'm not intent on living like#a monk nor am i intent on being on that grindset for financial gain#it's like i don't intrinsically care but i have so many messages given to me about how i need to care a lot and it puts me in a weird spot#i am simultaneously standing still and moving at mach speeds#i mean right now i just need a safety net while in between jobs; after that i need to save up to move out of state bc the uh#political situation and upcoming presidential election don't seem very sustainable for someone like me anymore#they weren't to begin with but i don't wanna stick around to see how bad it's gonna get#but it's like. okay and then what? save for what? going back to school i guess? idk#i feel like i keep asking myself what i'm trying to accomplish and keep trying to force myself to have answers#here and now when i have to be okay with taking things one step at a time instead of having everything here and now#it's simultaneously fine and terrible and i am holding two conflicting yet equal truths#i feel i may have a clearer head once i leave my current job. i'm trying to look but nothing feels appealing given how#burnt out i already feel. i dread going back into my workplace and i fear it's showing to the patients and i don't want that#i want a month off to rediscover who i am as a person outside of getting yelled at in retail and then pick something back up#could be feasible. genuinely could be. i need to sort out the health insurance aspect but. that's lowkey the plan?#to construct a financial safety net and then slam on the breaks for a while; see if i can strike up a deal with the staff about me#coming in for specific tasks bc we already know i'm quick and efficient with the inventory so i do have a little leverage#you know what. this is getting some of it off my chest and i'm starting to feel confident again lmao#i won't be doing weekends starting either next week or the week after so that's a start! i just think i want everything done right now#bc i'm afraid i won't have the chance again but i will. i definitely will#i just need to let myself get to that point; it's just the immense drain from the register work and the Everything that comes with retail#also having to accept that it's okay to leave this; there's not something wrong with me like. ''not being able to handle it'' or w/e#no mindfulness or detachment could've saved me; it was shit and i'm hitting the bricks and that's all there is to it#i've been thinking a lot about it all lately bc it's what's most prominent in my life rn of course#idk. pondering. introspecting. as i am wont to do#anyways if you've read all this you're a real mvp and i am kissing you on the hand#shai speaks
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currently experiencing The Horrors (thinking abt the fact that i have to start going into the office again from tomorrow)
this will either fix me entirely or cause me to descend so deeply into my burnout sinkhole that i will never be seen or heard from again
#regrettably i think maybe getting out of the house for a few hours might help. don't tell the ceo that#idk im having a really hard time keeping my head above water right now#i basically didn't have any time off last year just to do nothing. every holiday i took was to like. do an activity#like go to america or germany for cons or travel for a concert or some other event#whereas i usually use 75% of my time off to get some desperately needed rest#im really running on empty at this point but i really don't wanna use a bunch of my annual leave this early in the year#also i need to start learning how to say no to people#because last year i used probably 60% of my leave for other people#like. i used 2 weeks to go to washington with my brother as his 18th bday present. that was literally half my leave#and then i used another 3-4 days to visit relatives#and this year i was like 'im gonna be proper selfish with my a/l this year and use it ALL to do what i want to do'#then my mum rang me up and asked me to use a day of it to hang out with her and i said yes. like an idiot#like don't misunderstand me. i love my mum. but i already see her every weekend#and i also have to like. not tell her when i book leave for myself because she'll be like 'oh so we can do something!'#NO. PLEASE. LET ME ROT IN PEACE.#im just so frustrated that i im such a pushover and i already broke my promise to myself this early on#like. why can i not advocate for myself ever. why can i not just. disappoint people. and have that be okay.#personal
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Throughout all of this, I never thought about the potential for my family members to also deconstruct/leave fundamentalist christianity, even if they remained a more progressive christian in the end
#I came out to my dad this weekend and he took it like#scarily well#specifically as trans. I'm still figuring out sexuality and also he doesn't need to know all that lol#this man used to punish me for *not* wanting to spend his money on clothes and hair styling#he pulled up his bible app on his ipad and told me my deceased mother would be disappointed when I tried to come out nearly 10 years ago#and we didn't really talk about it after that until now#He's still a christian but he hasn't gone to our church since the pandemic started since we moved houses#then I left for college#so he didn't really have a reason to travel 45 mins to keep going to that specific church#his father still does though and is as extreme as he always was#if not more since he sees more/is getting sick so he's holding onto religion more#We lived with his father for a few years and I think we both started to see how extreme that life was there#cause that's also where I started deconstructing#I don't think he's ever going to leave christianity completely like I did#and I'm willing to pretend to be one for him#but he's significantly calmer now#and said he honestly just wants me to be able to survive and be happy even after he's gone#he even knew when pride month was and helps decorate at work#though that's not really by choice since it's a part of his job#but yea I came out to him as trans and he's okay with it. he just wants me to be happy. we aren't gonna tell his father tho#or his mother for that matter though she has the gentler calm nature that my dad inherited#it's been a journey seeing him reconcile with that from my end since it was usually something with me that made him rethink things#he's at a point where he cares much more about seeing me happy than being 100% perfect for Jesus. He doesn't need to be perfect either#I'm still processing all of it ngl. He even accepted the little resource bag I made for him#n e ways thanks for reading my little ramble about coming out and seeing my dad leave fundamentalism for a gentler christianity#that makes both of us happier both now and in the long run#I never really considered the possibility of that happening#next step: coming out to my mom's side of the family. tho I might just let them figure it out like the rest of my dad's side
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#ay ay ay. now that the soul crushing project is done ive elected to spend the week managing data#which is decidedly more chill than what ive been doing for the last month but also isnt not doing anything and it isnt getting stuff done#for when i have to move. so thats annoying. and ive been drawing again at least but i can feel the escalation in my controlling behavior#so its now very frustrating trying to draw anything. coloring is gonna take a million years rip.#also suddenly everyone wants to b social rn? like tomorrow my boss is organizing a thing with an old lab mate and this weekend a#collaborator is having a retirement party. and next week my lab mates wanna do a trivia night. and i kno that i should go to these things.#and i will try but i really dont want to go to any of it. mostly for driving reasons but also im a husk of a person rn. but the more#devastating thing is that uh next week one of the kids i grew up with is getting married to a rich girl lol. and like we werent that close#bc i was and am such an asocial freak but after the wedding my parents r picking up their new camper and camping their way across the#country with my sisters. and im sure someone probably told me the dates of these things at some point but if u tell me dates i will#instantly forget them. so thats. ya kno. happening over basically the next 2 weeks while i have to kill myself over measurements for a#different study i dont care abt. and like. its fine. ill see them mid may for a different planned trip. it just makes me kinda sad#a product of living halfway across the country i guess. im just inherently more disconnected to everyone. i would suspect thsts semi#intentional subconsciously. u cant b upset abt not being able to connect with ppl if you create enough physical distance that u never see#them in the 1st place. u cant misunderstand me if i make myself absent and unknowable. idk. i was explaining to my mum that i didnt realize#the timeline and she was like. understandable whatever u wanna do! and idk y that upsets me so much. i guess its just that i dont want to b#doing this. its causing me pain but dont kno how to articulate it in a way that makes sense. whatever. my mouth hurts. my lips r so chapped#that the irritation is spread past my lip line. probably doesnt help thst i keep rubbing at it lol. anyway things r still annoying#less soul crushing thsn last week but still frustrating#unrelated
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i love my mom but sometimes i really just wanna -
#like i really do love her and she's coming up to see me this coming weekend#but like#sometimes she does things or says things completely forgetting the fact that we've already talked about it#for example#she's hosting christmas at her house and i've already talked to her and the whole family about how we aren't going because#it's just not gonna work out schedule or money wise.#keep in mind they decided to do this AFTER i had specifically asked we hold it closer to me so that i COULD attend and that was back in mar#but whatever#she texted asking if i was joining them for christmas and i said no - AGAIN#and she said#“i kinda figured but wanted to let you know you're invited”#like HUH#I HOPE I'M INVITED TO MY OWN FAMILY'S FUCKING CHRISTMAS WHAT THE FUCK#also she's coming to see me this weekend and she keeps making plans#without asking if i'd even want to join her in them she just assumes that i will#remi vents
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Tartaglia is getting increasingly jealous about the attention you are giving daddy dendro, be careful clari😳
WAAAAH anon!!! (*/ω\*) stop hehehe u just made me so giddy!!! he is such the jealous type tho like the man is borderline yandere and lately i’ve been thinking about just how he’d react, knowing he was my first favourite, my original favourite, but then came ayato and thoma (a packaged deal, of course), and now here comes alhaitham, stomping all over everything with his big stupid boots and what the fuck??? ajax was here first, and he doesn’t even have a single fic to show for it, only bits and pieces of finished work!? that’s not fair! hehehe waaah i just feel like he’d be fuming over it all and def plotting some clever yet gruesome murders 。:゚(。ノω\。)゚・。
#i’m gonna get my other men killed by accident fr#no hahaha like once my best friend and i were talking about what it would be like to live in a house full of our favourite characters right#and it just makes me think about living in a house full of my genshin faves and how fucking chaotic it would be#because obv ayato has thoma to lean on; his loyal dog his obedient pup who loves to serve him#so they’ve got each other#haitham doesn’t need *anyone*; he’s so independent and honestly he most likely wouldn’t even WANT to be friends with the rest of them#seeing them as either insignificant or a waste of his previous time or just plain rivals#i could see him getting on politely with ayato but i know he’d be able to see how sneaky and sly ayato actually is like immediately#so he’d keep him close just to keep an eye on him#and then my poor ajax#who everyone would hate#who would be alone and suffering because of it#who would be JEALOUS and possessive and clingy and needy#not that he isn’t strong + smart enough to handle himself because he is#i just think emotionally he’d have a harder time controlling himself#he’d be prone to emotional outbursts and the other men would find it easy to poke and prod and just set him off#which is dangerous they should not do that#anyway i could go on forever about this HAHAHA it’s my daydream lately#hope ur doing wonderful anon bb!! <3#enjoy your weekend and stay safe!!!! don’t forget to hydrate <3#inky.bb#clari gets mail
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Day 361, and today's attempt at redrawing 13 year old art is going significantly better than yesterday's XD
I was going through a lot of my old digital art yesterday and there's so much of it I want to redo, it's almost funny. I also learned that Photobucket has gone down the shitter and has become significantly more evil since the last time I used it. I'm gonna check this weekend to make sure all my original stuff is backed up on my external drive—it should be, but you never know.
Anyway, original is under the cut for direct comparisons without dash stretching!
#the great artscapade of 2022#bobbi's being weird again#art#my art#art evolution#art progress#character design#I think I've decided on a New Year's Resolution#like I'm still gonna do daily art that's not changing#but this year I'm going to add Scheduling My Chores™ and see if that makes me more consistent in keeping things clean#use Fridays to do dishes and Saturdays to do laundry and the last Saturday of the month to do bedding (plus regular laundry)#yes I know the bedding should be changed more frequently but look#look#once a month is already more frequently than I currently do it#vacuuming and dusting are my roommate's chores but depending on how on top of things I can get I might take over those#I might wind up falling off of this bandwagon#considering a lot of my inconsistencies are due to periods and illnesses#both of which pretty much immobilize me for at least a day or two and have VERY BAD HABITS of hitting near the weekends#but#if I can get into the habit of laundry and dishes once a week at minimum I think that will help a lot#so I'm gonna try to do that
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Me, the other night: "I may be going through a fuck of a life situation, but it could always be worse if I broke a flower pot in the shower again."
Me, today, waking up with a swollen and painful mouth infection:
#im in too much pain to find a better react#im so fucking tired#when will life stop throwing me multiple curveballs?? i dont even know how to juggle!!#im just getting hit in the face with each curveball. and it feels like it today too holy shit#im in the middle of teeth alignments for treating my tmj pain idk how im gonna go thru another root canal#my first root canal was only preceeded by hot/cold sensitivity. it never got swollen or hot#im so exhausted man. at least the regular dentist can see me today and hopefully give me antibiotics#im on immunosuppressants so i was crying this morning like damn im gonna have to go to the er for this i wont survive the weekend#im so upset tho it took me forever to fill my last prescription. so dont jinx it but i might still need to keep that er plan on hold#the good thing ab that tho is my back mri is tomorrow which is at the local er so i can do the mri and walk right over if needed#i just dont understand how this could happen i brush and floss after everything i eat or drink (so at least 3 times a day. thoroughly.)#bad genetics and stress strikes again i guess#vent#Cori.exe#Post.exe#god and i spent the last 2 days stress picking my face too so i look ROUGH right now#everything sucks lol#its right over where my wisdom tooth would have been too so like. way back there. im gonna be drinking soup for weeks#rip coris jaw. never had a chance
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bad dating stories time: the shoe incident
so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.
at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.
he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?
and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.
but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.
i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?
(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)
and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.
i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.
that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.
i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.
anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.
i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.
we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.
he was okay at it.
eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.
soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.
realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:
"i can't get pregnant"
which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.
still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"
and then i was in my car, and i drove away.
if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.
and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.
WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.
we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.
do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.
and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.
then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.
and then they started making out.
i was close enough to hear it.
i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.
so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.
now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.
so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.
about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.
my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.
my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.
they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?
and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.
#dating stories#anecdotes#long post#funny story#babylon#im really bad at dating#like i can do a lot better than this but also it just was kind of a nightmare for me#shit like this did make the whole thing easier tho#like#every date after this i could go you know ive seen how bad it can get#and i lived#didnt even get shot#writing
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