#he’s got so many things to do right now after all

[wcters]

𝗦𝗣𝗜𝗡 𝗢𝗨𝗧

pairing: lando norris x fem!driver!reader

word count: 1.2k+

summary: your boyfriend is there as you crash out in a race

warnings: pda, some swearing, injury mentions, protective lando, i guessed on some stuff | i do not know how certain things work in f1 so if i messed that up i am sorry 😚😔

Your pre-race playlist filled your ears as you leaned the side of your body against the wall of the track barrier. Even though you’d done this so many times before, it doesn’t lessen the nerves in your body. It wasn’t even your first time on this track, yet it had you picking the skin off you fingers as you zoned out.

You were pulled out as someone came up behind you and wrapped their arms around your waist, grabbing your hands and holding them in theirs. You knew who it was right when you saw their hands. You looked behind you to see your boyfriend. You freed your hand from one of Lando’s and took out an earbud. “Stop picking.” Is the first thing you heard out of him.

“Sorry,” you replied as you took the hand still holding his and brining it up to your mouth and kissed his knuckles, “just nervous.” He smiled softly at you and turned you around to pull you into his chest. “I know, but you’re going to do great.” “So I guess you see the future now, yeah?” You joked. He shrugged his shoulders, “one of my many talents.” “Sure.”

Lando had come to see you race because it was the one race that didn’t take place at the same time as his did. The Bahrain Grand Prix had just taken place about three days before. He had taken a day to himself before he came and joined you in Jeddah. It was challenging with both of your schedules but you made it work, you always did. You both knew the risks and the troubles of two F1 drivers dating, and you both were prepared.

He poked your cheek. “Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” He asked you. “Yeah. Just have a feeling something will go wrong today.” You said lowly as you looked at the cars on the track. “You’ll be fine, y/n. You’ve had this before and nothing happened.” You nodded into his chest as you breathed in and out. Right as you pulled away your race engineer came up to you and told you it was time. Lando kissed you and wished you good luck as you handed him your phone and earbuds and put your mask and helmet on.

Time passed quickly ━━ probably because of the adrenaline ━━ and before you knew it you were in your car watching the lights. Your hands felt sweaty under your gloves as you didn’t dare to blink. You didn’t want to miss it. As the lights went out, your car came to life and you sped ahead. That feeling of something going wrong was still there but you tried to shake it off and focus on the race.

Lando was in the garage with your engineer and mechanics, eyes peeled on the screen. He noticed how shaken up you were and he was worried. Like he said to you, you’d felt this before but this time he could tell something about it was different. His hands were shaking as he kept his eyes on you and talked to your engineer to try to calm himself down.

Your voice interrupted his senses as he watched you enter your 24th lap. “Somethings up with the tires, I’m getting no grip.” His eyes flicked to the man beside him. “Noted. See if you can hold on a little longer.” Your engineer’s voice filled your ears. “Got it.” Lando was left alone after that as your engineer got up to talk to the mechanics.

When the big screen showed your car, Lando got worried. He saw how little traction your tires had and how you were slipping on your turns. He could hear the commentators voice as well commenting on that as you finish the 27th turn and get ready to start your 25th lap.

As he watched you speed up the track, he didn’t even notice until after it happened. As you tried to turn on the first turn, you tires skidded across the track and you couldn’t complete the second turn, causing your car to crash into the barrier. It didn’t look too bad, but all Lando could hear was silence and all he could think about is if you were okay.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Your engineers voice cut into the silence of the radio. He got even more worried when you didn’t answer. “Y/n? Baby?” Lando asked into the headset. More silence. He turned around to see if anyone knew what was happening until he finally heard your voice.

“Doing great.” You grunted. “Nothings broken ━━ I don’t think ━━ but my side does hurt. I think I might’ve bruised it when I hit the barrier.” Lando sighed it relief. He was right, it wasn’t too bad. Nothing was broken and you thought it was just a bruise.

“The safety car’s been deployed and it heading your way. Don’t go running anywhere.” You engineer instructed you. “Not going anywhere,” you joked with a light laugh before a hiss came out. With only some trouble you eventually made it out of the car and sat against the barrier to wait for the safety car. You could tell that Lando was worried by the sound of his voice . . . and because you know him. You and him were on the same wavelength, if you could describe it in any way. You felt things the same, and because of that you knew how the other was feeling. You felt the same when he crashed in the Las Vegas GP. It was almost the same too, you spinning out and hitting the barrier. It was entirely coincidental.

You sighed in relief when you saw the safety car ━━ you were ready to get out of there. Your side hurt like a bitch, way more than it did before, and your legs were starting to get tingly. The adrenaline must be wearing out. Lando never turned his gaze away from the screen as they put you in the safety car. He knew you were in good hands, but it ultimately didn’t matter to him. Anything could go wrong.

Lando was right beside you when you got out of the safety car and taken to the doctors on site before you were taken to the hospital. As you were in getting checked out the the doctors, Lando was rambling. “They should’ve taken you off the tires when you told them. They should’ve taken it more seriously. If they had then ━━“ You interrupted him by putting your hand over the one that was holding yours. “It’s fine. If I had felt more nervous I would’ve boxed anyway. Plus, Will would’ve done the same and you would be acting like me. It’s not their fault.”

He sighed, and you knew he knew that you were right. “I know, I just worry.” You kissed his hand, “I know you do. And I do too when the same things happen to you. But I’m fine. They’ll take me to the hospital where they’ll double check I have no injuries. If it makes you feel better I’ll even let you check.” You joked. He laughed and shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

The doctors eventually told you that you were good to go to the hospital. Nothing looked too bad, but it was standard procedure. You sat up with a groan and Lando immediately made a face. You shot him a look. “C’mon, I’m fine.” He didn’t agree. You rolled your eyes. “Let’s go, you’re coming with me to the ambulance. Maybe they’ll let you turn on the sirens.”

[into-the-mortuary]

1: on his shoulder, because lap makes my back hurt eventually whereas his shoulder is easy to reach and comfy

2: hoodies, however we give sweaters to him

3: netflix, we’re terrified of clubbing so some movies and a good snack sounds way better

4: denim, leather feels icky on us, and he has this really nice denim jacket that he looks great in and that he let us borrow once

5: their smiles when they’ve done something good and they’re proud of themselves :] my boy gets the happiest little grin and it’s adorable

6: not a tea fan :[

7: however it tastes on my boyfriend’s lips

8: brown

9: nope!

10: yep :3 it’s on my husband, don’t tell him though :3

11: rugby to watch, badminton to play

12: we mostly wear neutrals but we’re honestly more of a gothic colours mlm

13: sometimes, if it won’t make us dysphoric that day

14: our boy is taller than us, and whilst sometimes we’re annoyed about it because we feel like a backpack spooning him (/lh), it’s kind of worth it for the soft holds we get in return sometimes that make us feel like we fit perfectly

15: hand kisses, they feel more intimate somehow

16: hmmm, i’m not sure? we like our own one, which smells like biscuits?

17: restaurant date where we’ve googled the menu beforehand and chosen our food already, specifically this adorable little italian restaurant that our husband lives near because their food is beautiful

18: cabin getaway, only because we absolutely melt in the heat, which is not cute or sexy by any means

19: love, simon! first one we watched and it shaped us

20: we sort of do and we sort of don’t? we like the idea of it, of instant connection, but we also think it’s beautiful to build that connection and love together over time and to befriend each other before you realise a couple of months later that you’re head over heels and can’t imagine life without him

21: absolutely! we’re in love right now, and have been for nearly 3 years :] it’s worth it

22: we like both! but we love when he sits in our lap because we like to show off that WE got lucky enough for that a little :] he doesn’t know that though! sometimes it’s nice to sit in his lap and be held and shown off a little ourselves though

23: metal, we have matching metal bracelets

24: it’s hard to pick just one? but the first time he called us his husband is up there, or yesterday morning when we woke up all curled up against him and got to clean his flat together in the most purely domestic way possible :] sadly our memory isn’t the best, but we have many good memories with our husband

25: to the left usually!

26: we like the idea of keeping the most interesting last name, which (we’re sorry baby) is ours, and ours is already hyphenated so can’t be hyphenated again, so we’d probably stick with our own and let him stick with his if he’d like to :] we don’t need to share last names to show we’re married, our love shows it enough

27: we’re really awkward around kids, so sadly for us they’re off the table, and we worry that we aren’t mentally there enough to have a kid and look after them the way they need to be to have a stable life

28: we do! we hold hands with our left hand, we’re the hand on top and we interlock hands

29: hmmm, i don’t know? i’ll ask our boyfriend which ones make us blush the most

30: waking up next to him, because all the sleepy kisses and his clinginess are to die for :]

31: our exes /hj

32: watching our boyfriend do really domestic things honestly? something about it flusters us

33: coffee shop!

34: we’re usually big spoon, which is brilliant because we leave kisses all over our boy’s back and shoulders and it’s soft and sweet :] however sometimes we really crave to be little spoon and be held and kept safe from the world, we’re just too shy to ask

35: how pretty a boy’s hair is

36: yes we would!!! we need to get a vase but we would adore it!!!

37: the subtle ones are cute as hell :]

38: yes!! we asked our husband out, still amazed about it

39: his confidence, he gets the most beautiful grin ever and his eyes get all sparkly and he hugs us really tight

40: BITE by troye sivan, we know it’s sadder but it’s beautiful

mlm asks!

I never see these so I decided to make one lol~

Do you like resting your head in a boys lap, or on his shoulder?

Sweaters or hoodies?

Netflix or clubbing on a Friday night?

Denim or leather jackets?

What’s your favorite thing about boys?

How do you like your tea?

How do you like your coffee?

Favorite fall color?

Can you drive?

Do you have a crush?

What’s your favorite sport?

Are you a pastel, neon, or neutral color mlm?

Do you wear makeup?

Do you like boys taller or shorter than you?

Do you prefer hand kisses, or nose kisses?

What’s your favorite cologne smell?

Ideal date?

What’s more romantic: cabin getaway, or tropical vacation?

What’s your favorite mlm movie?

Do you believe in love at first sight?

Have you ever been in love?

Do you like sitting in a boys lap, or do you prefer when a boy sits in yours?

Metal or cloth bracelets?

What’s one of your favorite memories of being in love?

Do you tilt your head to the left or right when you kiss?

Would you like to take his last name when you marry?

Do you want kids?

Do you interlock fingers when you hold hands?

What’s a compliment you’d love to receive from a boy?

What’s better, waking up to him in the morning, or falling asleep next to him at night?

Any turn offs?

What makes you blush?

Coffee shop or dog park date?

Big spoon or little spoon?

What first catches your eye?

Would you enjoy it if he bought you flowers?

Do you think matching couple outfits are cute or cheesy?

Have you ever asked a boy out?

Which is cuter, him being confident, or shy?

What’s one of your fave love songs?

[darnell-la]

What about Wade and Logan watching Vanessa and Reader pole dancing together and the boys getting all hot and bothered by watching?

note: overload — that’s all you guys need to know.

———

“Aren’t you excited!? Your long-time, short-time crush is going to dance in front of us tonight with my long-time and short-term fiancé,”

As soon as the two entered the bar, Wade couldn’t stop teasing Logan about the fact that this young lady he’s been crushing on for a while, will be dancing tonight.

“She just started yesterday, why would she already be on stage?” Logan sighed as he leaned back in his chair. “Maybe because she’s the hottest worker, right after my fiancé!?”

Logan glared at Wade, making him put his hands up in a surrendering passion.

“Look, don’t be grumpy all night. I wanna enjoy my butter pecan up there, alright? Good boy,” Wade patted Logan’s head before shouting out Vanessa's name to support her before she came up.

“That’s my girly pop!” Wade yelled out, making Vanessa chuckle as she danced on stage with y/n. Their session was almost done, and Logan felt drained. Watching y/n like this was going to be unforgettable tonight.

At first, he hated the idea of y/n being like this in front of so many men. That’s the reason why he came last second. Now he’s wishing he never did, with how hard and leaky he was from watching.

He couldn’t possibly go up to y/n without her knowing. She’d see the patch instantly. He cursed himself for being a perv.

“Hey, I’ll be right back,” Logan got up and quickly walked away before Wade could speak or anyone could see him cover himself up.

“Logan!? Wade sent me back here to come and get you! He said you’ve been all here for almost an hour,” y/n said as she made her way down the small hallway to the bathrooms.

After the show, it got dead, since people were only there to see the strippers of the night.

“Logan?” Y/n asked again, but he still didn’t hear her. He was too busy trying to focus on his release. “Logan, are you even here?” Y/n opened the men’s bathroom slowly, not really caring if she saw anyone else. She wanted to make sure Logan was alright if he was still here.

“Goddamnit,” y/n heard Logan grunt. She wanted to turn back around and leave, thinking he was having trouble using the bathroom until she saw one hand over the bathroom stall.

She squinted her eyes to take a better look, seeing how tight he was gripping the metal. The stall was bending in from how hard he gripped down.

“F-Fuck, just- Fuck, c’mon,” Logan groaned in annoyance, angry that he’s been going at this for what felt like days. He’s a mutant, so he should be able to last however long he pleased, but he wanted to release now. He’s never been this hard in his life.

“Logan?” Y/n said low, but surprisingly, he heard her this time. “Fuck-“ the man cut himself off and stopped instantly. “Y/n!?” The man panicked as he fixed himself up, but that was going to be hard.

He’s been leaking for who knows how long, and everything had made its way all over his hand. When he went to wipe his hand in his jeans, all it did was make him look worse.

“Yeah, I was just- I was just checking on. Wade told me to,” y/n said as she rubbed her fingers together, a bit embarrassed that she probably witnessed Logan, and an older adult jerking off in a bar bathroom.

“That motherfucker,” Logan mumbled as he began to buckle his pants. “I can, uh, leave if you’d like. I’m technically doing something illegal anyways,” y/n spoke about her being in the men’s bathroom. “No, no!- Just wait a second,”

Y/n stayed silent as she heard Logan groan in frustration and probably break a few things in the stall before he finally came out.

“Hey, Bub, uh, wassup?” Logan asked as he quickly walked over to the sink, not trying to make anything seem too obvious. “Just checking’ on ya,” y/n smiled as she scanned the man.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Logan?” Y/n felt the need to walk over to Logan, but slowly. “Yeah, Bub, just needed to take a leak, that’s all,” Logan lied as he turned around after drying his hands.

“Are you sure? You’re breathing a bit heavy, and-“ Y/n went on until she looked down at his lower body, seeing what his jeans looked like. They were basically drenched in one particular area.

Logan took a deep breath with his eyes closed, knowing he was caught and couldn’t lie his way out. He prayed she’d think he was just some man who needed to rub one out, but she kept asking him the right questions.

“First time watching the new modern women strip?” Y/n chuckled shyly as if wondering if this was even a joking situation. “You’re a funny one,” Logan chuckled as he fixed his shirt he noticed was sitting wrong.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed. Most men don’t know how to act when they see a pair of tits,” y/n joked, but that slightly bruised Logan’s ego.

“Seen enough tits in my life, Bub,” Logan said, right before he took a look down at her chest. “Oh, you have? Seems like a fun life,” y/n got a bit defensive at his response. She couldn’t believe it at first, but her response was out of jealousy.

“Ain’t too bad — As long as they come with a pretty face,” Logan said as he looked into her eyes with a head tilt. “Yeah,” was all y/n could say as she broke eye contact.

“You know you’re pretty, right?” Logan asked as he moved towards y/n, softly letting his hand rest on her waist. “Really?” Y/n asked, confidence suddenly being thrown out of the window.

“Oh, yeah — So damn pretty,” Logan placed his free hand on her cheek, slightly rubbing it as her eyes widened. “T-Thank you,” y/n stuttered, and all Logan could do was chuckle at how she got around him.

“Got me all worked up out there, hun. Didn’t know you could move like that,” Logan admitted. “That’s why they had me dance on my first day,” Y/n said, reminding Logan about that. “That doesn’t sit right with me, Bub. Don’t want you back here workin’ for a creep,”

“But Vanessa? She works here,” y/n said, but he some care. “That ain’t my girl, so what she does, doesn’t concern me,” Logan said, not wanting to sound rude, but he truly did not care about anyone else, but y/n.

“You, though? You’re my girl, and you didn’t tell me about this job — Wade had to,” Logan said as the hand on her waist tightened. “And, that doesn’t sit right with me,”

Y/n felt the need to apologize, thinking she did something terribly wrong, even though she didn’t. Only in Logan’s eyes, she did do something that would need some consequences.

“Gonna say anything before I do what I’ve been needing for the past two hours?” Y/n wanted to speak, but she couldn’t. She was curious about how far Logan would take this.

“C’mere,” Logan said as he pulled y/n into a bigger bathroom stall than the one he was in. Once he locked the door, he pushed y/n to her knees, making sure to keep eye contact with her soft eyes.

“Gonna need you to look at me just like that until I’m done, okay? Been stuck for the past hour with this shit,” Logan said as he reached into his jeans to pull himself out. He didn’t think about it, but y/n sure did once she saw his length.

He was long, harder than she’d ever seen anyone before, thick, veiny, and leaking more than an average human should be.

“Open up, Bub,” was all Logan said as he pushed at her lips with his tip. Y/n hesitated but soon opened up and took him in. She had stopped after a few inches, but he continued thrusting his hips until she was in as much as he thought she could take.

“Fuck, baby — This is exactly what I needed,” Logan rolled his eyes as he felt instant release. He knew he was close, but he wanted to last. “Stop gaggin, baby — Wanna last a bit longer,” Logan told y/n, but she couldn’t. He was too huge.

“Bub, I said- Oh my god,” Logan grew angry, but soon whined as her throat collapsed around his shaft. “Fuck, I can’t hold it, Bub. So damn wet and warm- Fuck,” was all Logan said before his cock twitched.

Y/n couldn't help but look up at Logan to watch him lose himself in her mouth. The main she let out as he spilled into her mouth, made him groan louder, and tighten his grip on her hair.

“Goddamnit, I’m gonna cum again-“ Logan struggled to say as his legs shook, and a second orgasm ripped from him. Y/n’s eyes widen as more cum filled her mouth, so much that his seed leaked out of her mouth. There was too much to take.

“Nah uh, swollen it all, or I make you walk out with it on your face,”

[zweigsangel]

ex fratboy! chris. smut-angst. 1.8k words.

it’s one of those late nights, and you’re standing there in the middle of a way-too-crowded, kinda messy party that, honestly, you only came to ‘cause your friends dragged you here. the air's thick with too many people, bad beer, and random songs blaring loud enough to drown out any thoughts you might’ve had. and that’s when you see him: chris. the ex you swore you were over. but like, really, are you?

it’s weird though, ‘cause he’s just chilling across the room, laughing too loud, his arm around some guy you don’t recognize, talking animatedly about god knows what. he’s got that same stupid, loose stance, shoulders relaxed, wearing that hoodie he always wore, the one you’d stolen a million times. you think— hope, he hasn’t noticed you, so you kinda try to blend in, sticking close to the wall, pretending to check your phone.

you weren’t always like this, all distant and tense. you’d meet up after his frat meetings, and he’d tell you all these wild stories about his brothers, like the time they tried building a slip n’ slide down the staircase and ended up getting written up by their advisor. you’d just sit there laughing so hard you’d cry, and he’d look at you like nothing in the world could ever compare. and for a while, it felt like he was it. but it ended, kinda messy, mostly because chris was…well, chris. he’d blow off plans, flirt with people at parties, and honestly, it just felt like he didn’t know what he wanted. or maybe he did, and it just wasn’t you. he’d show up late and drunk, ramble on about his deep thoughts on the universe, and then disappear for days, leaving you feeling like some kind of afterthought. eventually, you got tired of being the whenever person, so you cut it off. even if it hurt.

it’s been a few months now, and you’re doing your thing—focusing on classes, seeing friends, trying to move on.

but nah. of course he sees you.

“yo, wait up,” he calls, weaving his way through people, looking right at you. you try to act casual, like this isn’t a big deal, like you don’t feel your stomach flip. he stops in front of you, that grin still hanging on his face. “hey,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “long time no see, huh?”

“yeah, well, been busy,” you reply, shrugging. it sounds casual enough, but he’s still looking at you like he’s trying to read something on your face.

“you look good,” he says after a pause, and it’s so out of character for him to just say something like that, straight-up, that it throws you off for a second “uh...thanks?” you laugh, awkwardly. you know he’s probably just trying to be friendly, but you can’t help wondering if there’s more to it. “so...you still doing the same old chris thing?”

he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away for a second. “i guess so,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. and then he kinda sighs, like he’s tired of the frat boy act, or maybe just tired of himself. “been, uh…been thinkin’ about you,” he admits, his voice low. “more than i probably should.”

you try to brush it off, folding your arms to keep your cool. “oh, yeah? that’s, uh, new.”

“i know, i know, i messed up,” he says, sighing. “just…never got you outta my head, y’know?” you can feel yourself softening despite everything. “yeah, well, maybe you should’ve tried harder.”

he looks at you, his eyes searching yours, and there’s this vulnerability there, like he’s finally ready to admit something he’s been holding back. “you think i didn’t? trust me, i tried. i just…i dunno. couldn’t do it.”

you don’t want to care, don’t want to feel that old pull, but it’s there, creeping up on you. he steps closer, barely an inch between you now, his gaze never leaving yours. “you want me to back off?” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the music. “just tell me, and i will.”

you could tell him to go. could shut this down, walk away, stay done with him. but instead, you shake your head, just a tiny movement, and he lets out a soft breath, like he’s been holding it in. before you can think, his hand’s on your waist, his fingers brushing lightly over your hip, pulling you closer.

the kiss starts slow, tentative, his lips brushing over yours like he’s testing if this is real. then his hand moves up, slipping around your back, and it’s like something inside you snaps. you grab the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer, and he lets out a low sound, his grip on you tightening as he presses his body against yours, his mouth moving over yours with more intensity.

“missed you,” he whispers against your lips, his voice rough, desperate. you barely register the words, just feel the heat rising between you two, feel his hands sliding lower, pulling you against him, his fingers firm on your waist, his mouth moving along your jaw, down to your neck, sending shivers through you. you tug him toward the hallway, away from the crowded room, and he follows, his hand gripping yours, letting you lead him through the maze of people until you push open the bathroom door, dragging him inside.

the space is cramped and a little dingy, but you don’t care. the second the door clicks shut, his hands are on you, pushing you gently but firmly against the door. his mouth crashes into yours, hot and urgent, and your hands find their way under his hoodie, slipping over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. you tug the hoodie off him, and he lifts his arms to help you, tossing it aside without a second thought, his hands already back on you, roaming down your sides, exploring every inch.

he kisses you harder, more intense, his lips pressing down your neck, his hands slipping under your top, that quickly joins the hoodie on the floor.

“god, i’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost a growl. “yeah? thought you forgot about me,” you tease, but there’s no real bite to your words. it’s playful, but you both know the truth behind it.

“never forgot. couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you,” he admits, his hands sliding up to your bra, deft fingers working to unclasp it. you feel a thrill of excitement mixed with nerves as it falls away, and his hands are on your bare skin, exploring, his touch igniting every nerve in your body.

“you’re, uh…sure about this?” he murmurs, his voice low, his hand coming up to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. you don’t even hesitate. “yeah,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady.

he lets out a soft, almost relieved sound, and his mouth finds yours again, hungrier this time, like he’s been holding back and can’t anymore. his hands slide down, finding the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down, his touch steady and deliberate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. you step out of it, your pulse racing as his hands explore you, pulling you closer, pressing you against him.

you tug at his belt, fingers fumbling, but he’s already helping, working the buckle loose, kicking off his jeans. he’s back against you in a second, his hands on your hips, his lips trailing down your collarbone, leaving a trail of warmth and shivers in their wake.

he lifts you, setting you on the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist. “you okay?” he asks, checking in, “yeah, jus’ do it,” you whisper, barely able to hold back the urge to pull him closer, “please.”

he’s kissing you again, his mouth moving against yours as you feel him press against you, hot and hard, and you let out a soft gasp. “need you,” he murmurs, almost pleading, and that raw honesty sends a thrill through you. you nod, breathless, and he positions himself, sliding inside you slowly, giving you a moment to adjust. it feels incredible, every inch of him fitting perfectly, like he was made for you.

“god, you’re so tight,” he groans, burying his face in your neck, and the sound of his voice makes you moan softly. as he starts moving, the rhythm is slow at first, deliberate, and you feel every thrust, every movement building inside you. he’s murmuring your name, breathless, and the heat between you is consuming. you wrap your legs tighter around him, pulling him in deeper, urging him to go faster.

“yeah? you like that?” he asks, his breath hot against your skin as he quickens the pace. it feels electric, every thrust sending shockwaves through you, and you nod, lost in the sensation.

“so good, chris,” you moan, the words tumbling out as you feel that familiar coil tightening deep inside you. he leans back, looking at you with those dark, intense eyes, and it drives you wild. “gonna make you feel good, okay?” he says, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes your heart race.

with each thrust, the world outside fades away. it’s just the two of you, the heat of the moment enveloping you, and you feel that sweet pressure building, your body responding to every touch, every whisper, until you’re trembling around him, ready to fall apart.

“come on, babe,” he encourages, his voice low and rough, and you can hear the strain in it as he moves faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “can’t hold on much longer,” you breathe, feeling that familiar rush as he hits just the right spot, sending you spiraling.

“let go for me,” he says, his voice thick with desire, and the way he looks at you, his eyes dark and hungry, pushes you over the edge. with a loud gasp, you’re coming undone, waves of pleasure crashing over you, and he follows right after, burying himself deep as he lets go. the sound of his voice, mixed with yours, fills the tiny bathroom, and in that moment, it’s just the two of you, lost in each other, together again in a way you thought you’d never be.

as you both come down from the high, he pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. he doesn’t say anything, just lets the silence settle between you, a quiet, unspoken apology wrapped up in the way he looks at you, his eyes softer than you remember, like maybe he’s finally realized what he’s been missing all along.

and for now, it’s enough to let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

[justwonder113]

Sharing bed with Seungmin

Chan; Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

My Masterlist

Summary: After facing the horrible and vile beast and hurting your leg in the fight, your best friend offers to let you stay in his house. Where one thing might lead to another. Warning: cursing as always, there's no surprise there. Not proofread. Both Seungmin and Reader are quite goofy. Reader is gender neutral. Mentions of kissing.

A/N- Hey babies! I'mglad to say I'm back and well. I hope you'll like this fic. Reblogs and cooments are greatly appreciated. Feel free to request and send your thoughts if you have any❤️ Word count- 1.8k

Having your own house is a beautiful experience. It’s like an adventure of having your own kingdom and being a monarch. You have all the privacy and personal space one can dream of; you have peace and quiet; you have freedom to do whatever you want be it walking around butt naked or cooking up a three course meal at  3am; you can have random 3 am dance concerts and so on and so on. Most importantly you could do whatever you wanted to decorate and style it which is what you were busy doing right now.

Lately your Pinterest feed was full of various versions of colorful archways. People came up with so many interesting ways to add a pop of color to their house and it seemed quite easy to do so. So here you were perched on the stool unleashing your inner artist on your archway. Well at least that was the plan. Everything went to gutter when you saw a movement in the corner of your eye. You turned around made eye contact with probably the most disgusting and vile looking grasshopper ever. The horrific appearance of the beast made you scream so hard the beast also got startled and fucking jumped on you! Obviously you lost your shit at that too, your already shaky and unstable stool just couldn’t take it anymore. One second you were screaming your lungs out the next second you were on the floor with your leg hurting like a bitch.

You must have made quite a lot of noise because almost immediately the front door of your house basically burst open and Seungmin rushed towards your hunching figure. You had almost forgotten he was supposed to come over. You had even left your door open for him. Quite convenient, because no way in hell would you be able to stand up and walk towards the door in this state. You sure as hell hoped you didn’t break it.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Seungmin looked frantic as he nervously examined you. You wanted to keep your cool, you really did. But the pain and the shock took over your senses and the next thing you knew you were bawling your eyes out as Seungmin, confused and unsure of what to do, cradled your body close to his frame and tried to calm you down.

You were unsure of what happened next. You were pretty out of it. Maybe out of shock maybe because of the painkillers, who knows. Seungmin did most of… Well basically everything. He helped you get ready, took you to the hospital, did basically all the talking with the doctors, stayed with you through every procedure… He even took care of all the paperwork, bought all the meds and not once did he complain about anything! Even more, he bought you to his house! Well he said because you couldn’t be trusted to be alone but you knew it was because he was worried, also you did complain quite a lot about being afraid of the beast lurking in your house. With your foot strained like this there wasn’t even a possibility for you to run away from the hideous creature.

If you thought that he wasn’t husband material before (oh no you were totally not crushing on your best friend, not at all!), he even made you dinner, which was just finger licking good! He made sure to step away to his room to make a call, but you could still hear how he asked Minho for tips. How could you not love him? He even called Minho! He hated asking him for help. He looked so good doing everything too, all you could think about was how you wanted to kiss him.

“You’re the best Minnie.” You cheered as he helped you get to bed. He insisted that you take his bed, refusing to hear you protest. You loved how he always acted like everything was such a bother and then went out of his way to do it.

“Shut it, I’m only letting you sleep on my bed because knowing your clumsy ass you’ll fall of the sofa and further injure yourself!” He grumbled as he tucked you in like you were a literal child.

“Aww you do care about me.” You couldn’t help but tease.

Seungmin only scoffed – “Don’t push it!”

“I love you too!”- You mused, he rolled hie eyes at that but you could have sworn the corner of his lips lifted up. He was about to leave but you reached in just in time to grab his hand. Seungmin looked taken aback for a second but quickly gathered himself. “Please stay?” You made sure to do your best puppy eyes and it worked! Seungmin immediately caved, but being a stubborn ass, he is he just plopped on you. Careful to not touch your leg but still with enough force to squish you.

Honestly, jokes on him because you only saw this as an opportunity to wrap your hands around him and tightly hug him. He “tried” to get free but you knew that this softie enjoyed the hug, the big ass smile on his face confirmed it. In mere sounds he stopped resisting and continued to just flop on you.

“What are you doing?” He huffed out while his face was adorned with the prettiest smile ever. God you couldn’t understand how could he say anything bad about his smile or even think of hiding it. It was always so innocent and pure. It never failed to put a smile on your face, to light up your whole world.

“Showing how thankful I am?!” – To further prove your point you leaned in and gave him the fastest smooch on his cheek. Seungmin made sure to grimace as dramatically as possible, but as always, his arms wrapping around your waist told whole another story about how he felt.

“Oh really? By kissing my cheek?” What a little shit. Now it was your time to roll your eyes. “Are you insinuating I should kiss you elsewhere?” You tried to not sound as hopeful as you actually felt.

Seungmin barked out a teasing laugh-“As if you could, you don’t have the guts for it!”

You quickly let go of him and crossed your arms to show your disdain, with equally matching scowl adorning your face. That didn’t stop him from hugging your frame, in fact he tightened his hold around your waist. “How dare you sir!”

Seungmin looked at you with challenging look, his eyes full of amusement. “What? Are you going to kiss me then?” His voice was teasing, you couldn’t tell if he was actually for real or not. You couldn’t’ tell if you should challenge him or not.

“I just might!” – You challenged, thinking that you just might as well go with it. You could always play as if you were joking. You hated hiding your true feelings but anything was better than possibly losing him as a friend.

“What are you waiting for then?”? You thought you knew him the best but you couldn’t really decipher what his face meant. Was he actually for real? Were you two about to cross the line that could possibly ruin your friendship either for the best or for the worst?

“Don’t you dare regret it!” You whispered against his lips. When did Seungmin’s face get so close? With every breath your lips slightly brushed against each other. You could smell the minty smell of his toothpaste. God you were really about to do it!

“Wouldn’t dream of it love.” His voice was low, almost like a whisper. God, you couldn’t resist him anymore. Here went nothing. Bringing him closer with his face you finally connected your lips together.

His lips were a bit cold and chapped but nonetheless you loved how they felt against yours. Your whole heart was bursting with joy. Every drag of your lips against each other felt like heaven, you couldn’t help but lean in for more. Seungmin must have also felt that way because he also kissed you like a starved man, like you were oxygen he needed to breathe. His hands had shifted from around your waist, one hand held your hip tightly while the other migrated to your neck and softly rested there. You also couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, your one arm was wrapped around his shoulders as the other still held his cheek to have him as close as possible. His lips were almost addictive like a drug you didn’t know needed in your life you just couldn’t get enough.

Unfortunately for you, you had to lean back to get some air. You always thought that oxygen was overrated anyway but biology or whatever. Seungmin also seemed unimpressed to be away from your lips but that still didn’t stop him from covering your whole face and neck with sweet kisses.

“I thought I was the one supposed to be the one saying thanks?” You couldn’t help but giggle as he kissed the ticklish spot on your neck. Seungmin looked up to you for a second then quickly got up. Your heart clenched at the idea that you might’ve done something wrong but he immediately washed away those worries by walking around the bed and laying down on the bed next to you, under the same queen size cover.

You looked at him with wide eyes as he got more comfortable laying on his back and opened his arms for you almost like an invitation. “All done!”

“What are you doing Min?” A smile crept up your face as you examined his mischievous smile.

“I just got more comfortable, you can thank me as much as you want now.” Seungmin answered proudly with the prettiest smirk adorning his face.

 You couldn’t help but mirror the expression. “You’re such a brat sometimes. What should I do with you?”

As if seriously thinking things over Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows and to be extra dramatic crossed his arms. You loved how giddy he felt after your kiss. It felt nice knowing you weren’t the only one losing your shit on the inside.

Seungmin smiled, and you knew immediately he was about to smartass you. You tried to turn away from him to not give him the satisfaction but he was quicker. He wrapped his arms around you and brought you closer to his body, his forehead gently resting on yours. “You love me!” After rolling your eyes at his goofyness you sighed in defeat and relaxed into the hug.

“You know what? I do.” You leaned in and sealed your lips again to further confirm your feelings. You would have hurt your leg a long time ago if you knew it things would end up like this.

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated^^

Taglist (feel free to either comment or massage me if you want to be added to my taglist ❤️) : @velvetmoonlght

[bloominginsanity]

My dad was able to explain fear and how to work through it so well that I apparently rationalized and created my own coping mechanisms for my OCD and didn't realize I actually had the disorder until I was 30.

No one can touch my room. I sound like a teenager saying this and in college I didn't actually care, but in my teenage years and when living in certain unsafe homes, I would have a goddamn break down if this was not listened to.

My life was high stress at one point, like HIGH STRESS. My brain redirected this to having utter and complete control of my room. One day, while I was at camp, my mom moved a stack of games from one shelf to another because she thought it would look nice. I came back, saw the change, and broke down sobbing, curled in a ball on my floor for twenty minutes. I had to move it back. I then moved it again to the same location later because she was right. It looked better that way. The problem was that I had to be the one to do it.

I knew it would change when I left home and I was right. I didn't care as much. The stress and the danger was gone from my life for the most part so the coping went away too. Fast forward to when I'm 30 and I move back into a high stress environment. My mom borrowed my sewing kit BY ACCIDENT. I was helping her with a craft project and apparently put it in the bag for her to take to work with her. She got back, unloaded it, and I found the kit. Out of order. It was a pretty raggedy thing in a ten-year-old plastic Ziploc with safety scissors and scraps of cloth. I had duct tape on the bag to cover the holes in it. But: The needles were out of order. The scissors were in the needle and stray-thread tin. There was a stray, white thread just floating around.

I stared. I hadn't had a breakdown in ten years. I told myself it was fine. I tapped my fingers on the table. Made a weird noise. Finally muffled a scream. Slammed my fist on the table to get the feeling of STRESS out. It didn't work. My brother asked what was wrong and I told him nothing because I KNEW it wasn't serious. I ended up in a ball on the floor trying not to sob as I told myself it didn't matter.

My mom apologized to me when she found me and I told her she didn't need to and that it wasn't her fault because I knew it wasn't. I was likely the one that had put it in there. I was still crying. It took me FIFTEEN minutes to be able to even look at it and fix it. I tried around ten minutes and I had to look away and stamp my feet to get the horrible feeling out and not cry. I was antsy for the next hour even after I fixed it. It doesn't even bother me to think about it now, four days later, but at the time I wanted to dig my nails into my own skin and make myself bleed just to distract myself from the feeling.

It was just a slightly messy sewing kit.

I never show signs otherwise. I check for my wallet, phone, and keys when I'm out several times but that's not all that odd. I've lost things before and am an expert at finding them. I guess I wash my hands a lot but I have dogs and I don't like getting sick. That's it.

My dad taught me that the repeating voice in my head that tells me everyone finds me annoying isn't real and that if you don't try that you'll never even know otherwise. He taught me how to identify what the fear looked like and what it was and how to call it a liar. Once I knew what to call it and what it was, I knew it was never who *I* was. It was normal to be scared and if other people could fight it then so could I.

[He taught me a lot actually. He taught me how to recognize social queues and what they meant. I got shouted at a lot as a child for not being able to react to them properly even if I saw them. Pretty sure the man is ND in some way and just found a super positive way to cope, which he passed down to me.]

I am still not normal, likely never will be, but I've been told so many times that no one would ever guess that I suppose I slot right in here. I didn't know it was actually called OCD until I was 30 and talking to another friend that had been diagnosed and thought 'that... sounds familiar.'

fuck it. shout out to "high functioning" neurodivergents

the ones who can mask easily, the ones who can get social cues, the ones who have managed to go most of their life not even knowing they were ND because they didn't present as the stereotypical ND person.

the ones who can pay attention in class, understand social etiquette, who understand societial expectations

the ones who don't feel neurodivergent enough bc they don't struggle in the same ways/areas a lot of NDs do, or they can't relate to other NDs' experiences because they always understood these things easily

the ones with high empathy, the ones who DO get the joke, the ones who are constantly told that they can't possibly be neurodivergent because they don't act like what you'd expect a neurodivergent person to act like.

you are neurodivergent enough. you are valid, and so are your experiences. not struggling as much as others do in some places doesn't mean you dont struggle at all. your condition and diagnosis is valid. your symptoms are valid. YOU ARE VALID. not checking all the supposed boxes doesn't mean you aren't neurodivergent. you are enough. you are valid. you are loved. you are valued. you matter. you belong in neurodivergent spaces, you deserve to use whatever resources are available to you, you are allowed to take up space in these communities. and i am so, so proud of you.

feel free to, and actually, i encourage you to reblog this with your experiences. we belong in this community as much as anyone else. please also tag this w/ any neurodivergent conditions i may have forgotten 💙

since this is getting lots of notes I'd like to add, even if you're undiagnosed or maybe self diagnosed, for whatever reason, (i.e. can't get access to a diagnosis, not being taken seriously, or just not wanting an official diagnosis, etc.) this still applies to you. actually especially to you folks. don't think for a second you're not valid just bc you don't have the paperwork or whatever to say it

[somewhereincairparavel]

Annabeth Chase and Jason Grace - two sides of the same coin, an analysis post.

after a long wait, I've finally posted my analysis on jason/annabeth being similar, and mirroring eachother as rivals/potential sibling figures more than percy/jason's 'bro rivalry', based on this post of mine which has crossed over a THOUSAND notes in the last week alone, and I've been getting so many reblogs and comments asking me to expand on my tags in that post and do a full analysis. so here it is. I've been procrastinating this for quite a while now for some reason but I'm glad I'm over my writer's block and I got to articulate my post well enough.

annabeth and jason have had very minor interactions throughout hoo, but the parallels and similarities in their character is jarringly noticeable, which is why I hoped for a jason/annabeth rivalry and not a percy/jason rivalry. they've both been raised at their respective camps since they were literal kids, they were well versed in their respective fields of knowledge, and were well respected/intimidated in their camps.

let's start off with the lost hero

when jason first meets annabeth, he says that her eyes were really intimidating and fierce, so right off the bat, we have jason who's pretty put off by annabeth because she very obviously looked angry, especially since she was frustrated about jason's arrival instead of percy, and looked like she could kill jason to get percy back.

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

this parallels to a lot when hazel kept going on about how difficult it was to warm up to jason because his eyes were always calculating and cold, and he gave off an untrustworthy vibe, that he'd sacrifice anyone for the sake of the mission.

both annabeth and jason have a certain similar ‘look’ in their eyes, which have nothing to do with the color. they both have the tendency to make people nervous simply with their eyes, because they always look like they're thinking of new things every few seconds. Ironically, jason first perceived annabeth, the way everyone else perceived him. scary and intimidating with an icy glare and hardened eyes.

They were both said to be ‘studying’ each other in distrust many times throughout. A part of why they didn't trust each other, was, in my opinion, because they embodied their least favorite shared personality trait of each other, secretiveness and guardedness. which is why annabeth got on so well with percy, and jason with leo/piper.

they didn't admire the closed off-ish vibe that they gave eachother. they both needed people who were open and carefree.annabeth said that jason looked like he knew too much information, but chose to keep it all a secret, very similar to her own guardedness from time to time, keeping it a secret and wanting to deal with it silently.

we also know that annabeth and jason are extremely knowledgeable in greek/roman mythology, they both love debates and were quite passionate about history. they were both assigned architecture projects by the gods themselves as a mark of honor and favour.

moving on to the next most important point, they reminded eachother of the people they missed, causing them to feel resentful.

jason, barely met his sister after they reunited. he was bitter when thalia said he had to go look for percy to help out annabeth with the search. he was aware that thalia and annabeth were childhood friends, getting closer to eachother than jason and thalia ever did. she found a home in luke and annabeth, not even a few months after baby jason was thought to be ‘dead’, that knowledge would've weighed a lot on jason. annabeth became the sibling to thalia grace that jason could never be.

while annabeth? the only thing annabeth thought of, after jason had a face off with his mother's remnant in boo, was the fact that jason, who looks eerily similar to luke, could've experienced the exact same fate as him. luke was jason if he had more wrath and held grudges, jason was luke if he had less anger and resentment. annabeth could connect the dots so easily, and that was truly the moment where she gained immense respect for him.

and, when jason told annabeth that his sister was thalia? she had a very odd sort of expression on her face.

annabeth also quotes that looking at jason made her feel bitter, because he reminded her of heras exchange, and the fact that she lost percy for months. whenever she looked at jason, she would only see her two childhood friends, a found family that was broken, and a love that was challenged.

whenever jason looked at annabeth, he would be reminded that thalia had a closer contact to her than she did jason, and had to accept that he would never know thalia as much as annabeth does.

annabeth and jason also appear very confident and sure of themselves, but have second thoughts all the time. they had to put on a fake facade, to live up to their expectations and lineage.

they were both also sort of people pleasers, annabeth couldn't really say no to anyone who asked her for help with things, like carrying the sky for luke especially, because not only where they giving her a chance to execute her knowledge and skill, the thought of helping someone made her genuinely happy. jason also loved seeing people happy, always wanting to say the right thing to satisfy someone, even if it meant he had to sacrifice his own struggles to help them.

fatal flaws:

annabeth’s fatal flaw, is hubris. when you are confident and sure that you can do something, and have a sense of excessive self pride.

and jason's fatal flaw is the temptation to deliberate. hesitation and second guessing, to put it in simpler words.both fatal flaws are so different, yet so similar, and they have both flaws, just in a different viewpoint.

as a child of athena, annabeth appears super confident and even conceding at times because of her wisdom, but at the same time, annabeth had to make sure she was one step ahead of everyone. she had to rethink everything and had to have a plan in her mind all the time, fearing that things wouldn't go smoothly.

she had to hesitate and second guess herself alot, despite her knowledge, like she did when she knew she had to look for the mark of athena. piper and percy had to boost up her confidence with affirmations, to let her know she's on the right path and to just follow her gut. annabeth feels obligated to have a temptation to deliberate, because, as a child of athena, she has to be all knowing and wise, and most definitely cannot fail her mother.

and jason? despite having a very low sense of self esteem and hesitation, he was so used to leading the people who were considered slightly inferior to him in camp jupiter, and basically getting treated like a celebrity for 12 years of his life in camp jupiter, that often, he thought what he did was right, he had his own perception of what a hero should be, and I quote

[“No, no,” Jason said. “I made my choice. You’re not to blame. You don’t owe me anything except to remember what I said. Remember what’s important.” “You’re important,” I said. “Your life!”Jason tilted his head. “I mean… sure. But if a hero isn’t ready to lose everything for a greater cause, is that person really a hero?”He weighted the word person subtly, as if to stress it could mean a human, a faun, a dryad, a griffin, a pandos… even a god”- Tower of Nero]

which was normal, since he had everyone basically following his lead without question as a kid. he's expanded on this in his conversation with piper in mark of athena, where he said he felt weird to suddenly be around people who were either equal/or superior to him in power, and not being in the ‘lead’ particularly.

jason had hubris, but certainly not in a way that you would call it an ego or excessive pride. he was hardwired and brainwashed into having his own perception of what is right and what is wrong, that he thought he was always making good enough decisions, at least from a roman child soldier’s standpoint. [Like when he was okay with not saving nico because it might sabotage their mission, he genuinely didn't think what he said was insensitive until hazel called him out, because he was brought up that way. he thought he was doing the right thing, by prioritising the mission and the duty, first. Like the dutiful roman he was made to be].

both annabeth and jason, have hubris and a temptation to deliberate.

annabeth and jason, also had an extremely difficult time breaking free from the thoughts that their godly parents were always right. It took on alot of disappointments for both of them to stand up to their parents (and not just godly ones, mind you)

they've both had disappointing absent mortal and godly parents with a hostile stepmother involved and monitored with each and every one of their moves. annabeth has had to deal with her stepmother playing the ‘bad cop’ with her father not even coming to her defence, just the way hera came butting into jason's life and giving him terrible memories, taking him away from thalia, with zeus not even caring.

speaking of which, they are both the only demigods who have harboured the most amount of resentment for hera. just the sight of hera pisses them both off, as it hera, stripped off so much time away from annabeth and percy, and memories from jason, which he never permanently got back.

this is sort of irrelevant but I'll add this anyway, in boo, athena also immediately liked jason for calling out zeus's unfairness to apollo, saying something like 'the boy is right' and she gave him an approving/appreciative look for his wisdom, which is pretty rare for athena to say or do to literally any demigod ever. this makes me wonder if she ever saw jason as someone who had some sort of athena legacy in him, which is why she was so pleasantly surprised with him. ugh we could've so gotten jason and annabeth as potential sibling figures bc of how many parallels they have, too bad that the percy/jason rivalry narrative was pushed too hard.

I hope I've drawn enough parallels with their characters, as a lot of you have been looking forward to this post for a while, hopefully this analysis hasnt been underwhelming for you all to read!

@thevoidcaller @karmaajr @onestorytorulethemall @newlyfoundwren @thesummerstorms

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Good to Me

The three times that Mingyu regrets setting you up, and the one where he finally says something.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Mingyu’s a little bit of a jerk, but that’s it.

This is part of the Three Times series. This one is inspired by this reaction.

One

It’s Mingyu’s turn to set you up. You introduced him to a friend of yours last week and it went so well, no matter how short-lived it was, that you’re holding it against him now. You’re dressed to the nines for a night out at the club and Mingyu just rolls his eyes when you remind him what you’re looking for on the drive over. He knows what you’re looking for because he’s known you too long not to. 

He’s invited you to tag along with the infamous 97 line. You’ve met many of them before, but he just raises an eyebrow at you when you take one look at Jaehyun and say ‘I want him’. You follow it up with a shrug and say ‘he looks good as a blond’. 

After only a couple drinks, Mingyu doesn’t have to do a lot of work to set you up because Jaehyun is doing all of the work for him. He knows every single one of his friends would date you or hook up with you, and it’s just a matter of you picking out who. 

He doesn’t think much of it when you and Jaehyun disappear a little while later. He checks your location and you’re at home. Mingyu continues on with his night, business as usual. 

Two

Mingyu’s eyes bug out when you tell him you have a date. Not that it’s unheard of, but you’ve always said you don’t really want to be tied down. There’s something about the little twinkle in your eye that tells him this one might be different. 

“Jaehyun? Really? Was he that good?” Mingyu teases, but he’s a little confused at how his whole heart isn’t in the little jab. Particularly when your eyes shine a little brighter at the mention of his friend’s name. 

“I think I really like him, Mingyu. I want to see where this goes.”

You’re his best friend and he loves you and wants to see you happy - which you certainly look right now. So he does what any good best friend would do and waves you to your closet to help you figure out what to wear. He’s seen you in practically everything hanging in here so he takes charge. 

But there’s a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach with every date you go on over the course of the next couple weeks. It’s never been like this before, even when you have pursued someone with some seriousness. He shoves it back because he doesn’t know when this changed for him. 

He knows you’re attractive. He knows you’re smart. He knows you’re funny. He’s not stupid and any straight guy would be crazy to turn you down. When did he become one of those that would be crazy? One of those that would beg for a chance?

You don’t seem to notice how reserved he’s gotten about the topic of Jaehyun. You’re too in love already to notice anything else. 

Three

He’s out to lunch with a few 97 liners. Jaehyun is sitting across from him and he’s never wanted to hit his friend more, especially when you’re brought up. Jaehyun isn’t saying anything gross or mean, but the dopey smile on his face is driving Mingyu up the wall. 

“How does it feel to finally have a successful set up, Mingyu?” Eunwoo asks teasingly. They all know how you and Mingyu operate, and have occasionally begged to be on the receiving end of that set up. 

Mingyu shrugs noncommittally. “It’s whatever.”

“Ouch,” Jaehyun laughs. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are, but no one’s good enough for my best friend.” Mingyu knows the answer is brutal but it’s honest. 

“Maybe,” Jaehyun admits. “But things are going well.”

“For now,” Mingyu’s words have an unintended bite to it. 

Jaehyun looks like he’s getting a little offended. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that nothing lasts with her. I love her to death but she’s got more commitment issues than all of us combined.” 

The mood has shifted, and Eunwoo tries to recover the conversation, but Mingyu’s realized what he said, particularly how he said it, and he can practically see how the wheels are turning in Jaehyun’s head. He really, really hopes that it doesn’t come back to bite him in the ass later. 

Four

You’re crying. He can tell as soon as he answers the phone and it kind of feels like a gut punch. Then there’s an extra punch when you say, “How dare you, Kim Mingyu! Why would you say that to Jaehyun?” 

“Say what?” A lot of the sympathy for you dries up as soon as you mention Jaehyun, so he tries to play dumb. You sniffle and it makes him bite his tongue. 

“I’ll have you know he dumped me because he said it wouldn’t last - that you said nothing ever does with me. I thought we were friends, Mingyu. I thought you wanted me to be happy.” You’re sniffling double time now and he’s starting to feel guilty. Of course he wants you to be happy. 

“Are you home? I’ll come over with dinner and we can talk.” 

You scoff. “Don’t bother.” The dial tone echoes in his ears and he sighs. 

Wonwoo’s staring at him from the other side of the couch. “You’re an idiot.” 

Mingyu stammers. “You’re supposed to be supporting me. I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“You sabotaged your best friend’s relationship. Is that not wrong?” 

“How do you even know that?” Mingyu cried. 

“Seokmin is in some of those group chats, remember? Now go apologize. Get some flowers and chocolate and just confess while you’re at it.” Wonwoo’s already got his face buried in his book again. Mingyu huffs and finally stands. 

You do not look pleased to see him. You even try to slam the door in his face. “Wait, wait, wait! Just let me explain.” 

“Explain what? Explain what you really think of me?” You’re sniffling again between the crack in the door as you glare. 

“It was mean of me to say, and I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.” It’s not like Mingyu to admit he’s wrong. You know that, which is why eventually you open the door and let him in. He puts everything down on the table and you give him a look. Sheepishly, he says, “I wasn’t sure how much of an apology you needed so I might have gone a little overboard.”

He lets you eat the chocolate first. It’s a comfort food and it’s only fair that he lets you get a head start. “I’m sorry,” he starts. 

“You said that,” you mumble through another bite. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, not how he took it anyway.”

“You said that too. You need to do better at this apology.”

“Fine.” He huffs, jumping up to pace. “I didn’t mean that you couldn’t commit, and of course I’d want you to be happy if you found the right person. But Jaehyun isn’t good enough for you. No one is, not even me. It’s never mattered because you don’t keep someone around often like you were with Jaehyun.” 

“You’re a dumbass, Kim Mingyu.”

He gasps. “How about an ‘I forgive you’? I’m trying to apologize and you insult me?”

“It’s true, you are a dumbass and you deserve to be called that. Do you ever wonder why I ask you to hook me up?” He stares dumbly at you and you keep going. “I do it so maybe you’ll be a little jealous and just admit that we have something.” You laugh humorlessly. “But it’s so painful sometimes because they’re never you and I still have to watch you go home with woman after woman.”

“Y/N, I don’t understand,” Mingyu stammers. 

“It’s fine, Mingyu. If you don’t feel the same, you can just say so.” You’ve deflated, playing with the wrapper from the chocolate. 

He marches over to you, pulling your chin up and slamming his lips onto yours. He feels you melt and it makes him melt too. When he pulls away, you’re pouting. “One more apology. I’m sorry it took me so long to catch up.”

“I forgive you.” You look like you’re thinking and then you smile. “What do you think about a change of plans on Friday?”

“Oh?” He asks, smiling lightly. You both usually go to the club when you can, but things have just changed at the snap of a finger. 

“How about a date instead?” 

“Sounds great. I’ll never step foot in a club again if you aren’t coming home with me.” 

You giggle and snort, “Yeah, okay,” but it doesn’t even occur to him to be offended by the jab. He feels like he’s floating now that the weight is off. “I don’t know, maybe we can stop by the club after dinner just to say we left together.”

“Sounds great,” he repeats, kissing you one more time. Or two. Or a dozen.

[mychlapci]

Orion pax as a nun with a vow of chastity and huge tits that he pumps for the enjoyment of churchgoers. The head nun retired so now he's number 1 which is A Blessing From Primus :) but there's one thing. It's the head nuns job to go out to the gladiator pits during tournaments, and meet the champion in private to let them drink from the tap. He's watching the carnage of the first matches, grimacing at the waste of life, but then. he sees the reigning champion, Megatronus. Sees him dominate the competition, and imagines those strong arms lifting him up like he weighs nothing. He's never been tempted by physical pleasures, but in his private booth nobody can see how his frame heats up and he has to stop himself from rubbing his thighs together. I want Megatronus OBLIVIOUS to how horny Orion is for him. He meets this sweet little thing overheating from the nerves of letting someone drink directly from his nozzles for the first time, and 100% thinks that Orion doesn't want to do this and is only following tradition. Maybe he even offers that they don't do it, and simply lie- but Orion is NOT having it. I NEED Megatronus being as gentle as possible, mistaking Orion's sighs, gasps, and whimpers for signs of discomfort. And I need Orion to overload for the very first time from having his boobs sucked by a mech he just watched Kill. And STILL Megatronus is oblivious (Orion being a virgin means he is incapable of leaking transfluid- a very literal seal, which feels a little tighter after every overload). Megatronus never got anywhere near his array, so.. he's still a totally chaste and holy mech! And it's not like he's being naughty and seeking this out, it's his noble duty to the rightful winner. Megatronus may be too dense to realize he's become a sex toy but he's also guiltily jorking his peanits after their meetings. Eventually, so much transfluid builds up in Orion that it breaks his own seals from the inside, and leaks everywhere. It's humiliating but then that gets gladly licked up too (and also Orion leaves the church and they actually have a relationship YIPPEE)

hrgh... i love ritual breastfeeding and horny nuns and temptation so much, sorry. and also it's so funny that Orion realizes that he's got some weird kinks right there during the gladiator match. he never knew he wants a big, strong mech to pin him down and play with his titties and maybe with his valve and spike, he never knew he wanted anything sexual at all until that day... hrghh overloading with his seals still in is a little uncomfortable due to the amount of lubricant and transfluid that gets stuck in his valve and behind his spike cover. a lot of it reabsorbs but a lot of it does not, and he can just feel it stretching his seals further and further - usually, mechs like him wouldn't encounter enough temptation to overload themselves into losing their virginity, but what Megatronus does to him just feels too good...

i actually want there to be a huge scandal. maybe Orion has to have his seals checked for some kind of ritual or maybe it's simply mandatory once a year, and he shows them his stretched, unsealed valve, now fucked many times by a big gladiator cock, and everyone loses their minds. This sweet, innocent thing, debauched by some bloodthirsty gladiator.... Perhaps the reason bots drink his milk is because it's considered pure due to Orion's virginity, and there's a public outrage regarding Orion's impure milk feeding church-goers.... mhmm

[kutie-so-serious]

Heyy, putting this on the serious blog because, well it is (I was tagged as @kutie106)

I’m a minor. I’m not old enough to vote yet, but by the next election I will be.

I’m not cis, but I’m very cis-passing. Trans rights are some of the most threatened right now, and if the wrong people get into offices, their anti progressive policies could be irreversible. And let’s be real, everyone is affected by these. Anti trans policies block cis people, especially women, from getting health care too. Blocking access to procedures, hormones, and other medical services, targeting trans people, is not exclusive to them. Taking away the rights of our lovely trans brothers and sisters and family overall is the opposite of what America is supposed to stand for.

Women’s rights are another important issue here. Just… holy shit it’s bad. How America is fumbling women’s rights right now is no different from how it was 100 years ago. Yknow, like, when polio was still a problem. The right to reproduce, or not, is completely up to the person whose body it is. God, I don’t understand how people just don’t get that. I live in a really red county in a decently blue state, and when my friend and I did a project on Roe v Wade (after it was overturned)… boy we got some looks. But what we also got was a surprising amount of support. Turning the tide on these issues is not impossible. We just need numbers.

anyway, I had to stop writing this for like 2 hours for choir rehearsal so I kinda lost my train of thought but I figured I’d share this too

when trump was elected, I was 6. I was a very sheltered 6 year old, but I was smart enough to know that the next 4 years would be interesting. And they were. 2016-2020 happened, and then it was the 2020 election. I was 10, and I was glued to the news, finding it funny how many absurd things trump could say and do. Again, I was a very sheltered kid. I didn’t understand the impact he was having on people. But I was happy when Biden won. I even watched the inauguration. Now in the 4 years since then, I started and finished middle school, and started high school. I’ve had the chance to meet people from completely different backgrounds and cultures, and I’ve seen new perspectives. All of them, no matter from what side, have reinforced my beliefs that a second trump term would be no less than disastrous. I don’t agree with some of Kamala’s policies. She’s not perfect, nobody is. But we need her in office, because the other option is so much worse.

so, the yapfest is over now. I hope pouring my heart out the night before the election at least can reach someone who needs to hear it. Please vote blue. If not for yourself, than for us

not tagging anyone bcz I feel a lil uncomfortable doing that sorry guys

I’m so scared for Tuesday.

For those who live in other countries and do not know the date of the US election, it’s November 5 aka this Tuesday.

I’m so scared. I was raised watching the news 24/7, it was always on; which now means, I am into politics and have very strong opinions

When it was the 2016 election, I was scared. Just before the election I did a project on her and when she lost I cried. I was six.

In the 2020 election, I was scared. I remember being at home sitting on the floor watching the news and my cousin, she was five, I was explaining the situation, the candidates, and the issues. She told me she really hoped Biden won. When he did I screamed and told her. I cried of relief. I was ten.

Now it’s the 2024 election, I am more scared now than ever. That same cousin is now nine, and she convince my undecided Uncle, on her own, to vote for Kamala. I’m so scared and I can’t understand the severity of the situation now more than ever. I hope that at the end of this week I still can say I feel safe. I will cry no matter which way the election goes either out of relief or out of fear for me, my friends and my family. I am fourteen.

I’m praying at the end of this week my friends, my family, and myself are still safe and have access to healthcare and online resources.

I am so scared for Tuesday.

Vote for me and our generation because we can’t.

Vote Blue.

💙💙💙

Please share this and remind people to register and go out and vote

^Click here to check your ballot, if your registered, where to vote, count down to voting and more

[starboye]

pairing: sam golbach x male reader

request: To start: maybe it was a particular hot, sunny day in a “ghost town”, leaving Sam’s (very nice might I say) body all sweaty and ahem ahem musky. His boyfriend’s a semi-popular streamer who had joined as one of their many guests, and on his streaming side of their tour, he (reader) had gotten a lot of flirty comments. Sooooo naturally Sam, upon them returning to their hotel, fucks the daylight out of him. Bonus if they’re engaged and Sam’s kissing his neck and back saying he’s his and only his (extra bonus if he stuffs his undies in his mouth or something (extra extra bonus if he cums so hard into his boyfie his belly bulges, but he doesn’t pull out all night))

warnings: smut, rough sex, sweat kink, possessive sam, choking, underwear used as gag, cursing, hickeys

after a little adventure with your boyfriend sam and his buddy colby, exploring an abandoned ghost town on a hot summer day was pretty good especially when you got to see sam lift his shirt to wipe his face and got to see those hot abs, and god did he smell amazing, the sweat made you want him more and more.

you being a popular streamer and all, had streamed the whole thing and during the live stream you got lots of flirty comments saying you were so hot and fine and looked so good in that outfit and for twenty points guess who ended up seeing those flirty comments on the way back to the hotel and got jealous of these desperate men flirting with you, if you guessed sam golbach you would be... correct (be sure to gain your of an ass pic with the host).

once getting to your room sam was quick to pull you into a kiss and strip off your clothes, throwing you onto the bed and pinning your hands down, his cock nudging at your hole more and more as his kisses on your neck became deeper and more possessive "i saw those comments on your live stream" he admits while moving one hand to lather some saliva on your puckering hole.

"c'mon you know i would never fuck my fans" you try to calm him but it falls on deaf ears, your words starting to annoy sam a little so he shoves his underwear into your mouth as a sort of gag, your nose getting filled with the scent of sams' sour smelling balls after a whole day in the hot sun, he soon shoves his cock into your hole and gets to fucking you, making you his absolute bitch and reminding you who owns this hole.

sams' lips pecked at your neck, leaving hickeys in the way to further remind you of who you belong to "fuck sam" you whine out while sam snapped his hips into your ass harder and harder until your whole ass was starting to feel numb "who do you belong to" sam pulls his underwear out of your mouth and asks placing his hand on your neck, squeezing it slightly "you daddy" you answer, your voice sort of wheezing as his grip tightens.

"and who is the only one who can fuck you" he asks again "you daddy only you can fuck me right, no other mans' dick is the same" you moan out feeling your body shake as you cum all over your abdomen "good boy but im not done with you yet" he growls lifting you up and sitting on the bed before sitting you back on his cock.

bouncing you up and down on his shaft, he kissed the back of your neck and you could hear him mumbling "mine all fucking mine" and being the insatiable boyfriend you are you stroke his ego "yes sam all yours im all yours forever" making him bounce you up and down on him harder and a little faster until he dumped his loud in you.

keeping you going to ride out his high, heavy breaths fanning the back of your neck, you begin to lift up but sam pulls you back down on his now hardening cock "oh were not done yet, better tighten that ass because you got a rough night ahead of you" he whispers in your ear, well let's hope you don't get kicked out like last time.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @kadenvatsune @fuckshft

[m3vl0vesu]

𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒖𝒍𝒕

A/N: Fluff! For once...but not really this is a simple one-shot but kind of mixed in with the rest of my Spidey stuff iykwim. Starts out a little sad. I also just bend the rules of how spidey senses work to go with the fic

!IT IS A ONE-SHOT PEOPLE.!

A reckless Spidey

An injured Spidey

Your thoughts

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

You tapped the edge of the building, watching the way your legs swung back and fourth. It was insufferable. You were insufferable, it's why the mission went hay wire. It was your fault. Your fault. Seven people got severely injured because of your carelessness.

"Spidey..."

What's worse is that he was here, Nightwing. The 'guardian of Bludhaven' his words always made you feel worse. How embarrassing

Nghtwing was a natural leader, his instructions were clear. The tabloids were right, Gotham didn't need a 'friendly neighbourhood Spider' they needed soldiers. Robin was right, he was better. Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy

Your hands gripped the edge, the guilt pounded in your head. Why couldn't thing go your way for once? "Spidey. Look at me"

God. Why did he have to use that tone? You royally fucked up, who manages to make made Nightwing mad?

"Kid, I'm not mad." Lies. But might as well humour him

"And what, your 'just disappointed?'" You added, mocking his voice. Earning a tired sigh from him. Wow, how hostile.

"Can you at least come a bit closer? You're going to fall..." "So? I'll just swing away." You could barely listen to his words, all your senses going off. There was always danger in Gotham, it never stopped but it was manageable. Unless something big happened, so you right now you were fighting the urge to cry. .

.

.

A long silence followed, for a second you thought he was gone. Until you felt his presence next to you, great. "I'm fine dude." "And for some reason I don't believe you." Ha ha very funny, you totally weren't stressing right now or anything. You felt him nudge you lightly, "you can't save everyone, you know that right?" You knew that more than anyone, the people you knew, the things you lost. It was common knowledge, but it didn't excuse your behaviour- "But you did?" What?

"What?" "Yeah, things could've been a lot worse if it wasn't for your quick thinking." "But...It was worse because of me." He just shrugged. Shrugged?? Hello? "I'm pretty sure that was group effort, so don't be so tough on yourself." He turned to you, a gentle smile displayed on his face. You couldn't see his eyes behind the mask but you could tell that they were kind ones. He had always been the one hero you looked up to most, it was still weird thinking about how you were now technically co-workers. You wanted to tell him everything, but you couldn't even open your mouth to say thank you. If you did, there was a high chance of you sobbing, please let it just stop here. You didn't know how many more kind words you could take. "Look, you're still new to this whole crime thing, but you're doing well. And I'm not just talking about the big fights with scarecrow and things like that.." Oh god. "..you, helping the little guys really matters. Batman tends to get caught up in all those huge fights but all he wants to do is keep the people safe and cared for. Like you do, all that energy and happiness it's important."

Please stop

"You...you remind of someone." Fuck, these words are not helping. Ha.

He got up and got down from the building, not before giving you a gentle squeeze. Now you were sure that you were going to throw up. After a few minutes of soaking in his words you decided to finally go home. .

.

. Managing to slip onto the fifth floor unseen for the hundredth time you feel your body go tense. If only you could relax at home like you used to, with the people you loved. You stole one of your aunts shirts from her room. A room that hadn't been used in a while. When you entered the kitchen you noticed something by the door, it was a note that was slide under. Odd. .

.

. EVICTION NOTICE

[alwaysthefool]

Orbiter of Bad Days (x Rafayel)

Synopsis: Rafayel accidentally puts you on the spot by asking you his views on his art

Warnings: OOC MC in the sense they’re a bit mean here, feelings of embarrassment, you had a bad day

Tags: angst, comfort, GN Reader, MC/Reader x Rafayel

It hadn’t been a good day. You had been yelled at by a random person complaining to the Hunter’s Association about a different hunter causing damage to surrounding properties while doing his duties. The government would compensate for it anyway, so why did you have to listen to that? After that, you tripped on the pavement, and were scolded by a passerby, who wasn’t even affected, for carelessness. To make matters worse, you had to attend Rafayel’s art exhibit in the evening as his bodyguard. You wanted to bail, but Thomas got to you first with a text.

“We need you here, there’s already many vicious reporters not on the guest list.”

That was just your luck. You quickly changed to a suit, befitting a bodyguard, instead of dressing fancy like you usually would when you went to these places with Rafayel. After all, you were employed by him, right?

You took a bus to the event this time, worrying that driving would end up in you getting yelled at by someone again, and surprisingly nothing went wrong on your way to the gallery, making you think perhaps your bad luck streak had ended.

You quickly met Thomas, who too frowned at your attire, but then shrugged. “Just… make sure they don’t reach him, okay?” He said, referring to the infamous reporters known to trick people into saying incriminating things. You wanted to ask if you could just kick them out, but they’d probably make a big deal about that too.

You couldn’t really see Rafayel anywhere, and you forgot to charge your phone so you couldn’t text him. I guess he’s getting ready for the event.

You sighed, seeing the hall fill up as Rafayel’s paintings were displayed in beautiful 3D layers by a projector on the stage. The reporters were impressed, capturing the scenes, and the famous guests that attended.

“But he’s a little late, isn’t he?” One of them spoke a little too loudly, making heads turn.

“He’ll be here any minute.” You replied, not even sure if that was true.

And that was when you became the target of the night for those two, a camera and mic shoved into your exhausted face.

“You’re his bodyguard, aren’t you?” The reporter’s smile was venomously sweet, but not exactly fake. He was happy to have caught such a prey.

“I… yeah.” You tried, and failed, to sound confident. I’m sorry, Rafayel. You thought, knowing you’d fall in whatever trap they set for you. Whatever though, you had been the villain for many people today, what was wrong with one more?

“So, what do you think about his art?”

“I don’t think my opinion matters here.”

“Actually, it does.” A familiar voice spoke. There he was, in a blue suit, walking towards you, turning all heads towards you.

You didn’t know what to say. The hall was filled with art graduates, people from foreign countries, geniuses, and him. How could you say anything that mattered more than what they were thinking?

“I think it’s aesthetically pleasing.” You murmured. People in the crowd hummed in agreement, and you wished Rafayel would just leave it at that.

“Is that all?” He inquired. You looked up at him, his eyes piercing your face.

Rafayel, I feel embarrassed. Please just shut the fuck up.

Maybe he sensed that, how could he not? He was excellent at knowing what you felt, but he didn’t say anything, as if he really wanted to hear what you had to say.

Fine, then.

“I also think… it’s ridiculous.” You weren’t really talking about the paintings. “You critique the ignorance of elites in society, but it’s funny because you’re being cruel right now.”

Rafayel’s face turned into one of concern immediately, and he tried to speak, but you continued. “Did you get tomorrow’s headlines, guys? Did you have fun, Raf?”

You wanted to take everything you said to him immediately. You were lashing out at the wrong man. Before anyone could see the tears that filled your eyes, you murmured an apology and ran backstage. This was probably the worst day of- well, just the month, and it was only the 3rd. You found a stair to sit on, behind the projector room, and cried with your knees folded. You were embarrassed. You made a fool out of yourself in front of everyone. You ruined Rafayel’s day. You-

“There you are.” You didn’t know when he came to sit beside you, but he was kind in a way you felt you didn’t deserve.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke in a cracked voice, holding your knees closer to yourself.

“What do you have to apologise for?” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him try to reach out for you, but then keep his hand to himself. “I shouldn’t have put you in that situation.”

“Yeah, no, you shouldn’t have.” You admitted, looking up at him with a tear stained face. “But it still didn’t make it okay for me to be rude about your art.”

You wiped your face with your sleeve, turning towards him. He had a neutral expression but there was a much deeper sadness in his eyes. He once told you that eyes don’t lie, and as long as your eyes are visible, you’d always be able to catch someone in one.

He was hurt, deeply.

“I didn’t mean it, you know. I was… I just don’t know why you’d ask me that in front of people you know would make fun of how uneducated I am.”

“No, you’re not-“ Rafayel wasn’t sure what to say. “Does it matter what they think? I think your opinion is the most important, and in this entire gallery, you’re the only one who matters to me.”

“Bet you say that to everyone you’ve been with.” You teased, and he hoped you didn’t see his red ears. He was grateful you weren’t taking him seriously, because would his words even make sense to you, who remembered nothing? But yes, he did only say that to everyone he’d been with, which was you, you, and always you.

“What other people think matters to me.” Your tone was soft, with hints of bitterness. “You wouldn’t understand, because you’re different. You think differently than I do. I… live on earth, and you live someplace I can’t reach. I see glimpses of it when we’re alone, I feel it through your art, but when I’m around people, I feel their words, their judgment, their voices, and I’m back on the ground. I start feeling small, and sometimes, I become someone you wouldn’t like.”

“Hey.” He pulled you closer, resting his head in your shoulder. “There isn’t one version of you I wouldn’t like. I like it when you get angry, and I like your ugly side. I like it when you lash out because you had a bad day, and I like all your little thoughts.”

“I like you too.” You rested your own head on his.

He smiled, his heart going several miles in a minute. He held your hand in his, tracing the shape of a fish with a heart tail. “Are we in my world right now?” He asked, not caring about the event.

“Yeah. And there’s no place I’d rather be.”

-x-

[minkdelovely]

I am jet-lagged and emotionally wrought, but nevertheless so fucking thrilled to have finally gotten the time to sit down and read this absolutely IMMACULATE chapter.

Hazel… I feel like I say this all the time, but how you manage to keep weaving this magnificent web of yours week after week is truly awe-inspiring. We’re getting close to the end, but you still make sure to impart as much emotional impact as possible. I believe this is the first time we ever got a solid block of Alastor’s POV, and if I’m being honest, idk if I would survive more 😭😂♥️

The mood of this chapter was so needed — they’ve been going through so much, and something was bound to snap. So to see them get closer on the other side is just so rewarding. I just want them to be happy god damn it! 🥲

I know you don’t typically foray into angst, but I’m not surprised you knocked it out of the park Hazel! I hope you’re just feeling more and more proud of yourself with each chapter! ♥️

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Where had she walked in New Orleans? Where did she meet Alastor’s father? You had to wonder what he had looked like. Surely he was handsome. Was he kind to her, like Alastor was to you? Or had it been a one night stand?

A small smile, she didn’t look like the type but looks could be deceiving. Alastor didn’t look like the kind of man who kissed bloodied cheeks and tossed heads into holes.

ruminating on Alastor’s mom is gonna get me every fucking time tbh 😩 and the second part with Alastor’s deceiving looks… that pretty face and charm will take him everywhere!

You knew he wasn’t a virgin, and he’d mentioned before he’d been happily coupled with others before his preferences became their frustrations.

BABYYY OMG THIS WENT STRAIGHT THROUGH MY HEART 😩

Did they properly express their gratitude? Doubtful. How many times did he acquiesce to his partner’s wants and then be treated like it was the expectation and not an exception of his affections?

no one will care about him the way we care about him — it’s simply not possible

The closer you got, the more nervous you were to see him. Not knowing how he felt, be it angry or worried or a mix of the two, was doing you in.

imagining him angry is honestly so scary; my anxiety just ticked up 😩

From insulted to panicked, you realized you’d forgotten about your face. Pushing the heavy wooden door open to the bathroom, your reflection caught you off guard. Your eyes were encircled in black, scleras red, blush smeared into your hairline, and your lips were soft around the edges from misplaced lipstick. You looked like a wreck in human form.

HONESTLY MY WORST NIGHTMARE

With one more glance at your disheveled appearance you sheepishly returned to the entrance and peeked into the dining room again. Everyone was dressed so nicely. You could imagine Alastor fitting in quite well.

WHY DID THIS MAKE MY HEART CLENCH?? 😩♥️

“I thought you’d be more fatale and less femme. Anyways, your deadweight’s in the alley.” 

MIMZYYYY!! tbh this is such a perfect introduction for her ❤️‍🔥

He turned, smiled, and rushed towards you. Taking your head in his hands he kissed you on the lips, and when you pulled back he leaned in, tongue pressing into your mouth.

BRUV WE ARE IN PUBLIC!!

Parks were different. Parks were made for such things. 

not only for kisses 👀 hehehe

He was drunk. Completely smashed. Normally you wouldn’t care, drunk Alastor could be quite cute. But you’d been prepared for and in need of someone to talk to. Someone to ease the mess of feelings in your gut. Instead you were handed a job as caretaker and impromptu driver. You’d have to wait until the morning for any kind of sympathetic comfort.

the way I immediately feel the frustration and disappointment. he’s not even just drunk, but SLOPPILY so 😩

Alastor pulled his arm from your hold, “At that little park. Audubon.” He pointed west, saying it with a perfect accent. “Anyway, I’m gonna kill him. Maybe right now! Did I tell ya? I know where he lives.” He crossed the street without looking. 

LET THE BABYSITTING COMMENCE 🫠

“Alastor, yes. He’s got two kids, a wife. He stays out late, obsessin’ over us no doubt.”

my cortisol has spiked, but there’s something about this line that just makes me smile 😂🙈

“Who are you to stop me? To tell me,” a pause as he lost his balance and leaned too far to the right, catching himself with a sneer to his own legs. He turned back and continued on his way, “what I can and cannot do.” You stopped. The sound of his mother’s shoes no longer snapping behind him made Alastor pause his clumsy march and look back at you. “Are ya really not comin’?” His sharp tone had shifted down to a whiny, almost pleading one.

so much here… the hurt from his words, but also just how clearly we can see that he’s barely keeping it together. wonderfully executed, my love 🥹♥️

Hiding yourself from him felt like betrayal, so you’d abandoned it some time ago. Your chin quivered, hands gripping the sides of your dress in stress. Your eyes were pleading with him to not do this. To not throw you away so easily. Diminish you with one slurred sentence. It felt like a dare to your pride. A choice, your self respect or his attention. It was a rhetorical question, as the answer would be a revelation to an entirely different quandary. 

UGHHHH IT HURTS SO GOOD!! he really is coming off as so callous right now — it’s brutal 😩

Alastor stared you down, his height finally mattering in a way you didn’t like. 

SHIVERS

The only way he could ever truly hurt you was with that cutting muscle behind his teeth. 

HAZEL OH MY GODDDD 😭🫠

Turning around, you walked the way you’d both just come because truth be told you had no idea how to get home from where you were. You just needed to get away from him before you said something you didn’t mean. Before he said something you couldn’t forget. 

as heartbreaking as this is, I admire that Autumn is walking away before it gets worse and not like~ digging in from the pain. i don’t know that i’d be that strong 😭

You’d barely gotten five steps when you heard a clank to the ground. Turning just enough to see behind you, you noticed the car door key on the sidewalk. Alastor’s grin wide and childlike.

BITCH!! 😭

He slumped against the passenger side window the entire car ride home. You struggled with the shifting stick, and he didn’t offer any help. A petulant brat pouting into the glass.

tbh nothing I hate more than a tense car ride… ALASTOR GOD DAMN IT!! 😩

“Suit yourself. I don’t have patience for this, Alastor. You’re acting like a brat when I’m the one who had the hard night.” You turned to go upstairs before coming back, something your mother always did in arguments that you hated, “And I really don’t appreciate the way you’re treating me. We’ll talk in the morning.”

THE TURNING BACK IS ALWAYS SUCH A KNIFE IN THE GUT

It wasn’t until you were under the covers, alone, did you begin to cry. It was mostly anger, if you were honest. But a good dose of self pity mixed in. Practically running to find him, after thinking about just him for hours before, and to be met with a drunken child was disappointing beyond measure. And the disrespect of tossing his keys…

THE KEYS!!! IT WAS SUCH A SLAP IN THE FACE!! 😩

You could remember the uneasy feeling you had when your mother would leave you with friends when she had work. How every inch moved felt like you were brushing into poison ivy, it wasn’t your space, you didn’t know the rules or the norms. Now you felt you no longer knew your place in Alastor’s home. 

this is truly such a horrific feeling… i hate that we’ve all seemed to feel the sting of it 🥺

Which was fine, you lied to yourself. You just needed to know the parameters so you could stay within them. Not take things too seriously. Not expect too much from him.

Not give too much of yourself. 

this is such a specific form of fear of rejection… I can relate only too well 😩

You couldn’t believe you had wanted to tell him you loved him. How long had you choked back those words for your own personal safety, just to be in a man’s home far from your own with no real way back.

I’M WRITHING OH MY GODDD THE HURT AND THE SHAMEEE WHYY??

A shiny and sunlit movie played of him slipping off your shoes and putting yours on his feet. 

I am honestly never not thinking about the whole thing with the shoes…

Lying down again, you tried to take deep breaths. He’d said he wasn’t mad at you. Was he not allowed to make mistakes? Could he not be angry around you without you taking it personally even when he said it wasn't for you? That was unfair of you. You were expecting a drunk man to speak clearly and with well thought out perception of how he’d be heard. The reasons for his drunkenness were unknown, and when you stopped to consider things more, you’d never just out right told him how you felt. Until you were upset and going up the stairs. Admittedly, to your defense, he was very drunk. 

this is genuinely one of the most emotional mature things I’ve ever read in my entire life — and something I’m gonna try to keep in mind the next time I’ve lost my temper

The idea of him waking up to an empty home and a migraine almost brought you back to tears. Alastor’s distaste for being alone had become clear, in the way he used to go out often just to have dance company, how he so quickly pulled you into his home and lap. You’d feel his heart break from across the river if you up and left while he slept. 

and I’m full circle to wanting nothing more than to cuddle this man… Hazel I swear to fucking god 🫠♥️

The best way to find out if someone was worth trusting was to trust them. Alastor had been worth so much more than you’d expected a person could be. This was just a hiccup. 

NO WORDS JUST MY HEART WEEPING

Alastor, what more could he do? What on earth could he possibly get away with? He had no interest in stepping out, and he couldn’t easily date when his hobbies and home were crime scenes.

GETTING BIG FEELINGS AGAIN FOR OUR LONELY, MURDEROUS BOY 🥺♥️

He would make it better. He would say whatever really happened in the morning and fix it. You could trust that and let your eyes finally close. Alastor hadn’t failed you yet, and you believed he wouldn’t start now. 

Alastor, darling, for the love of god please I’m begging for clarification 😭

When you woke up, it was early. Unnaturally early for you. But stress did that. Whatever the opposite of Christmas morning, that was the mechanism pulling you out of bed as the sun was just beginning to rise. 

BEEN THERE AND IT SUCKS

He was still asleep on the couch when you crept down the stairs. He looked like shit. Which made you feel a little good. If he looked perfect it’d be immensely dissatisfying.

this was such a glorious way to humanize our otherwise ethereal husband 🙏🏻✨

You heard the creak of the screen door and felt the old wood bend behind you as he finally stumbled out. He plopped down beside you, before lowering himself to his right side and resting his head on your lap. He stared out at the greenhouse like you did. Your hands twitched to touch him, but you kept them to your sides. 

AUTUMN I TRULY ADMIRE YOUR STRENGTH

“You are my darling.” He said with a raspy voice hoarse from an intoxicated dehydration. You finally looked at him, but he didn’t meet the gaze. “That’s who you are.”

“You sure didn’t make me feel like your anything last night.” Your tone was cold and sharp, spoken like a stranger scolding another. Stay strong, you thought. Make him understand how he made you feel before, even if you were already cooling off. 

You saw the fabric of your white slip turn a storm grey beneath his face, tears tumbling across the bridge of his nose before seeping into the night dress.

LIKE GENUINELY SO FUCKING STRONG — I WOULD HAVE FOLDED LIKE A WET NEWSPAPER JESUS CHRIST 😭

He nodded, slick and smooth face gliding over the silk. A sob, choked and broken as he buried his head again into your lap. “I’d never felt so helpless, I just…I responded very selfishly. I’m sorry.” 

The heavy and hot indignation finally began to cool in you, and you let yourself run your fingers through his hair. 

AHHHHH THIS IS PRECISELY WHAT I WANT: TO PET THIS SAD LITTLE MAN

You thought for a moment. The safety in Alastor’s killings were the degrees of separation between him and his targets. The plausible deniability. The lack of obvious motive. If you could find that same safety net when killing Brady, then, sure. “When he’s no longer a threat to us. When no one will be shocked to hear he’s dead.” 

YOU BAD BITCH OMGGGG Kenneth must be feeling a chill down his spine as we speak!! 😂

“I’m beginning to think it doesn’t matter.” Alastor inched his body closer to you. “I’ve never been a bigger failure in all my life than last night. In every way. To myself and to you.” His head turned, the soft and sharp features alike of his face burying into your lap. A gentle shake of his shoulders as he lost his fight to not weep openly into you broke your heart. He let out a weak and muffled series of sounds, followed by a louder and clearer, “Do you want to leave me?”

I ACTUALLY CAN’T FUCKING HANDLE THIS. THE FACT THAT I CAN’T COMFORT HIM MYSELF IS A FUCKING CRIME!!

You pulled his head up by the back of his collar. With your first good look at him in the crisp orange morning light you could see his lips were red and raw from nervous chewing, his hair lacking its usual shine or form. The right side of his face was wet. Tears new and old began to reroute and slide down his high cheeks and pointed jaw. They met at the very bottom of his chin, for the first time in their short lives, and dropped onto you in little couplings. Falling like they were made to always do just that. Just now. Just for him. A fate you could understand so naturally it was bordering on unnerving. A love story you were sure you were playing out.

HAZEL SHAKESPEARE IS GETTING US GOOD Y’ALL HOW I’M STILL CONSCIOUS DEFIES SCIENCE

How rarely you’d seen a man cry. In the past perhaps you’d have been put off. Cringed. Considered it a pathetic show of weakness and lost respect for them. But all you could feel now was a pain so deep and all encompassing it felt as if your skin was cracking off. A dry river bed in the heat of summer. What had been there before? Disgust? Indifference? Even his tears were of a magnitude more important than anyone else’s. Every piece of him mattered more to you. 

this whole paragraph is a baseball bat to my psyche

You were in that worst kind of love; Unconditional. 

SLAP MY ASS AND CALL ME MEGARA

“Give me a little time. I’ll show you how stupid of a question that is over our first fight,” Your thumbs wiped away his tears. The handkerchief came back to view, so you gingerly took it and dabbed the sacred lacrima from his cheeks. You took his head between both hands and stared unflinching into the sweet, sun kissed brown of his eyes, “I never want to leave you. Even if I do, even if somehow I’m convinced to go, you’ll have to rip your heart out of my cold dead hands or I’ll take it with me.” 

I’VE LOST ANY AND ALL ARTICULATION

Another torrent of tears from him and a reply so earnest and so sure your body leaned back with surprise, “But, it’s not mine anymore. Isn’t that obvious?” He half whispered it into the ether.

HAZEL PLEASE I’M SO WEAK IT’S TOO BEAUTIFUL OH MY GOD

“If you ever speak to me like you did last night again, with that sharp tone and cruel words, sober or not…” you trailed off, begging him to not make you say it. Don’t force you to make threats you didn’t want to keep. Things you’d be ashamed of not following through with. Little self failures you were genetically predisposed of committing. 

“You can take my heart with you.” 

AAAHHHHH I CAN’T BELIEVE I GET A SECOND DOSE OF THIS THROUGH ALASTOR’S POV — I am floundering and grateful all at once 😩♥️

- — - — - — - — -

A trickle of fear dropped down his spine. Worst case scenario didn’t quite exist as some ladder of concerns, he just felt tremendous fear you were dead. That was the only rung. Had someone been watching you, that he didn’t notice as he was too preoccupied with watching Brady? 

ALASTORRR I’m not strong enough for this!! 😭♥️

Alastor didn’t move. Hand still in the air between them. Johnny registered the distinct lack of light in Alastor’s eyes. He took a deep breath in, Alastor looked like a photograph of a man before him. There but, just a facsimile of human.

he’s in such disbelief omggg 🥺 this paints such a visual!!

Alastor’s mouth opened and then closed. He swallowed, then smiled, and his head did a little tilt. Ruth looked from him to Johnny. Alastor’s rolodex of canned responses spun infinitely around in his mind. Nothing was catching. There wasn’t a facial expression or comment or body posture in existence he had prepared for this conversation. Because he hadn’t ever predicted such a situation.

baby got the rug pulled out from under his feet 😭

The man he punched? What was his name again? No. He didn’t know where you worked. He didn’t know your name. 

William, for good measure, my darling buck

He was in disarray, a tremble in his hands making him pause and stare at his own body with a loss of recognition.

I love how he’s so immediately ready to pay whatever price while he’s literally floating away from himself… THE WAY YOU MAKE ME LOVE THIS MAN 🥲

“Hey, I was there that night you cornered Tommy into the booth. I saw you two. The night he hit her. Tommy was a real piece of shit. And I’m glad he’s gone.”

JOHNNY!! 😭😭😭

“Well, go have a drink, try to just… try to stay calm.” Ruth’s words barely entered his mind as he stumbled out into the night. Thoughts came so quickly and in such a multitude that Alastor found his head entirely empty, unable to latch onto any single one.

he’s in such shock; I know we’re going through it with Kenneth but damn this is pulling at my heartstrings 🥺

Long fingers gripped the steering wheel, knuckles an uncomfortable white with the force. How much would it take to snap the wheel? Had anyone ever tried before?

blacking out on the drive and now just so fucking angry… he really knows how to get me scared (for him) 😭

There was no fear you’d say anything. It simply didn’t exist. Even trying to conjure the idea of you telling anyone who he was and what he did was ridiculous to him. A dark part of him knew that notion was born out of a blinding fear and not out of true trust. Because if you did such a thing, it’d mean he’d been wrong about everything. That he couldn’t trust his own decisions anymore. What would he do if you did confess?

WHY ARE THEY SO SIMILAR AND SO NERVOUS ABOUT COMMUNICATING?? 🥲

Alastor made a beeline for the bathrooms just past the entrance of the Grano D'oro. His hair was mussed, his pupils constricted. He drew his bottom lip in and began chewing it nervously, hands pushing his hair back into some form of style. A cough to clear out his tightening throat, he straightened his bow tie and suit jacket. Staring at his reflection, he flinched. An unsettling feeling in his bones that if he stared long enough, it would take on a life of its own.

THE PARALLEL WITH BEING A MESS IN THE BATHROOM AHHHH!!!

Alastor offered passing pleasantries to a few people and smiled as he was escorted past them to the private dining section of Grano D'oro.

picturing him going through the motions is honestly so painful 🥺

Through the kitchen, with a smile and another nod to the staff who all sang his name as he walked by, Alastor made it to the barely visible door to the side.

but I am absolutely not surprised the kitchen staff adores him 🥹

“Little late for you isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be at home with your heart.” She dragged out the word, eyes rolling not at the idea of you but at the idea of someone being more important than a night out.

THIS IS SO FUCKING LOADED — HOW MANY TIMES HAS HE COME TO MIMZY TO TALK ABOUT READER AAAAHHHH!!!

“Oh fuck.” Mimzy added two more fingers to the glass. “What for?”

this feels very me for some reason lmao

Nervously he chewed on his bottom lip, biting red lines into the soft pink flesh. Mimzy stared, unnoticed. She couldn’t remember the last time he looked sad. He did sometimes open up when drunk, perhaps smiling through a pitiful story. Or dancing when she knew he was bruised in either his ego or his heart. But, normally, for Alastor, he kept the obvious and plain emotions kept tightly buttoned up. 

I LOVE THEIR FRIENDSHIP SO MUCH — the way she sees him is just… I can’t put it into words!

“And you can’t just,” she made a fist with her thumb stuck out and dragged it across her neck in a cutting motion, “get rid of the issue?”

Mimzy you rascal!!

Killing Brady would solve everything. And it’d feel good. It’d feel….ah, he leaned back, letting his chest open and fill with the shadow of satisfaction, it’d be the best kill yet. How would he do it, he wondered. It’d have to be special. Slow. Perhaps even over the course of days. Oh, or better yet, perhaps he could show Brady exactly how he disposed of his targets. Piece by piece, taking from him and letting him watch as he buried his parts in deep holes. Giving him all the answers to his questions before snuffing out his nagging life. 

as much as I belittle Kenneth, I am no match for the way Alastor wants to belittle Kenneth

No one would believe Brady, he considered. If someone pulled him back into the shadows of his tree lined street with a blade to his throat and gave him the warning of what was to come if he kept this up….Did he have any allies in this at work?

MUAHAHAHAHA I LOVE ME SOME PARANOID KENNETH! Go get him honey 😂❤️‍🔥😈

In fact, as he took a slower sip of his somehow still full glass, he thought she was quite right. Brady was testing his pride. Hurting the closest person he had to get at him. This was villain activity. 

I just love the irony of Kenneth “Clutching Pearls” Brady being painted A VILLAIN (and it’s not untrue)

Either Brady thought Alastor was all bark and no bite, only attacking men alone at night, or, worse, he thought Alastor was using you.

I can’t lie, his masculine pride is really doing something for me lmao

“Don’t try to distract me. I’m in no mood for such trivial things, Mimz. My love was arrested. At work no less. I’m useless.”

ALASTORRRR I CAN’T WITH YOU SAYING THIS SO CASUALLY!!

You looked different than she’d expected. She wasn’t really sure what she was expecting…actually, on second thought, she had just imagined a female Alastor. Alastor with a perm and an empire waist dress. A little out of fashion but classy. 

why is this so endearing to me? 😭♥️

He’d translate his determination into lavishing you. When you made a yelp and pushed him away, he was confused. Why weren’t you happy to see him? 

and the miscommunication begins 😭🙈

Your breath against his body when you and him first entertained affection came to his mind so intensely he thought maybe he had been pulled back in time.

HEHEHE Alastor I was thinking the same thing earlier 👀

Brady had done this. You’d never– He was just trying to clean up his mess. Why did people think they could dictate his life so freely? Why did what he wanted to do not matter, even though he was just trying to be a good man?

I know it’s drunk brain, but I’m so sad that he’s so quick to believe we would buy into some BS from KENNETH FUCKING BRADY 😭

Alastor paused to stare down at his legs. Et tu, crura? Even his own body was betraying him.

An ‘et tu’ will always get me good but this is also just so adorable to me how offended he is by losing his balance 😂♥️

What an odd question. Had you used your stage name so long you’d forgotten your true one. He laughed, what a silly thing to ask! “Now who is drunk?”

omggg he really didn’t realize what else came out of his mouth!! 😭

Your turning and walking back forward the restaurant made his eyes roll. Oh, the keys still. He pulled them from his pocket, fine, have them. I give up. Failure pile growin’ every minute.

Reminder that pity parties are not cute — our guy fucked 👏🏻 up 👏🏻

But when you turned around, he could feel the rage rolling off of your body. Alastor couldn’t pinpoint what it was about your face that was different than usual, but just beneath your skin he could see a you he’d never met before. One he didn’t care to meet. 

case in point 🫠

The pain behind his sternum was akin to a splintering rod; stiff, solid, and biting every time he moved. No one had ever made him feel this way before. He couldn’t put his finger on the feeling though, it was sadness, and it hurt, but there was something deeper. Something underneath these shallow reactions that dredged up a vague sense of mourning.

oh darling your drunk brain got you so focused on the wrong thing 😭

He slammed the car door behind him and fell into the sofa as soon as he could. Nothing went right. The day had started so wonderfully… you’d felt like a part of himself he’d finally found. And now….

SOBBING

He thought it and immediately winced. Not alone alone. Please, if anyone had been listening, please disregard it. That wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t mean that at all.

HE CAN’T BE ALONE AND I’LL NEVER BE OKAY ABOUT IT

His thoughts and the room were liquid and floating up into the atmosphere. Alastor was confident he would follow them up. 

we all float here Alastor 😂🎈

Patience… there it was. You’d lost patience with him. And you’d been so patient for months now. Waiting in bars and cars while he killed. Waiting for him while he threw body parts into holes and snapping jaws. Waiting for weeks beside him for inspiration to strike and for him to seek your intimacy in more serious touch.

I thought I’d be okay in the second round but IT HURTS EVEN MORE??

The yellow pillow was pulled to his face to muffle his scream.

this being one of his coping mechanisms when he feels embarrassed/ashamed of himself just… really cuts through me for some reason. There’s an innocence to it that just makes my heart swell 😭♥️

For all he knew, you’d made up your mind already. How odd. He himself was the cat in the box. He could already be dead and not even know it.

WE GET LATIN AND SCHRÖDINGER’S CAT ALL IN ONE CHAPTER?? IT MUST BE CHRISTMAS

The handle of your bag peeking out from under the dresser. It had been in the closet, he had emptied it and put it there for you so he knew that to be a fact.

OH GOD OF COURSE HE WOULD NOTICE THE BAG

He couldn’t find the courage to check. Rushing past it like it could come to life and grab him by the ankles, he went to the nightstand beside his side of the bed and opened the drawer, the bright yellow of your handkerchief calming him just a sliver. If he kept it, you’d have to come back. He could call you and remind you to come back for it. And then he could convince you to stay. His mother always said he was good with words. If you forgot it at his house when you left he’d have a way to bring you home again. Fresh tears welled, the backs of his hands smearing them into his hairline.

I AM A WRITHING FUCKING MESS ON THE FLOOR!! HAZEL!! 😩😭

Sitting on the second to last step of the house, he took a moment to collect himself. Being so frazzled, so undone, wasn’t like him. That foreignness just added to the panic. Bringing a hand to his chest, he opened his shirt to run his fingers down his sternum and to the left. A beating heart, evidence he was the survivor in every encounter he’d been in. But now, half a house between your and his back, why did he feel the most in danger? Rarely did fight or flight kick in, the last time he felt it was rolling around with that man who’d tried to choke the life out of you. 

No strange man here now. Just strange feelings. 

Hazel I actually really fucking can’t with you right now… ♥️

If you didn’t accept it….Alastor had never begged a day in his life, but he could see himself begging you to stay. Perhaps hugging your ankles and promising things he didn’t have. There was no longer an impossibility in what he would do, which was alarming. The idea of him being so pathetic and pitiful was nauseating, however there was no one and nothing that could stop that if you got up and left. 

OH MY GODDDDD

But that was what made you worth the risk. It began as entertainment, but soon enough the dome of your stage extended out and around him, sheltering Alastor in the warm light of your presence. And now as he looked around the railing of his stairs, he was scared to see the exit lights flicker on. 

AAAAAHHHH!!!! AAAHHHHH!!!!!! I AM A MESS!!! AAAHHH!!!

And he’d made you feel like nothing to him. The mountain of derelictions crumbled under the weight of perhaps his biggest failure of the evening, an avalanche of embarrassment and shame washed over him and he didn’t try to impede his tears. Men were only supposed to cry on their wedding day and at funerals, but he supposed this day could still go either way. Could still be as pivotal to his happiness.

ahhhh you’ve gone with the baseball bat again, I see. Excellent choice, my love 🫠

‘I’m sorry’ was just crystals of salt dropped in the gulf.

HAZEL!!! I CAN’T!!!

“I’m beginning to think it doesn’t matter.” He pulled himself closer again. Brady was nothing compared to the threat of losing you. “I’ve never been a bigger failure in all my life than last night. In every way. To myself and to you.” What a joke he was. How high and mighty and curated he tried to be that he forgot the point of it. A shield he turned to you was just a barrier between what he desperately wanted by his side. His tears returned with renewed vigor, the complete breakdown of his manicured image was a tell tale heart he couldn’t smile away anymore, the greatest weakness he was never so happy to call his own. Muffled by your clothing and inviting lap, “I just love you so much…” he choked and then sucked in a deep breath to try and get control of himself, shifting his face to the side again to watch your face for an immediate reaction to his question, “Do you want to leave me?”

A MUTTERED CONFESSION!!! YOU KNOW WHAT HAZEL YOU WIN THE WAR OKAY?? MY CASTLE HAS BEEN SUFFICIENTLY PLUNDERED AND YOU CAN RULE OVER MY SOUL AND DOMAIN AS YOU PLEASE — I WAS A FOOL TO EVER KEEP UP THE FIGHT!

He couldn’t promise himself he wouldn’t keep that little yellow fabric in his hands even after you parted, but he could swear to not try and guilt you back into his arms. 

I really don’t know how I’ve made it this far… I’m being pummeled into DUST

Take his heart back? His mind finally processed the words. It was yours. The morning had proved to him he couldn’t claw it back if he truly wanted, and if he was further honest with himself, he didn’t want it. It was better off with you. He felt the air cooling the once body-warm tears, he whispered what he felt was too vulnerable to say at full volume, “But, it’s not mine anymore. Isn’t that obvious?” His eyes looked down at your feet pointed in towards his own. Was this pathetic display not making it glaringly evident he was a man turned inside out? Guts in his hands and heart in yours?

transforming from dust into vapor…

His body was a tool, and he’d use every tool he had available to make you understand what you meant to him. Would you feel different now, now that he knew you loved him? Would he find your body warmer, more inviting… Could he make you scream your love for him?

Later, he would have to bookmark that idea. The confession was too fragile still, a crystal figurine too precious to even take out of the box. 

AND THEN YOU END THIS FUCKING MASTERPIECE WITH TWO PARAGRAPHS THAT MAKE ME WANT TO FLING MYSELF INTO THE OCEAN (AFFECTIONATE)

A Doe in Fall (Part 13)

⟢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 📍

Late? Yes. Buuuuut

If ya missed it:

Oct 19th Kinktober Day 19 - Proffer smut💦 Oct 13th Kinktober Day 13 - Handled smut💦

Where we left off: Autumn got released from the station to learn Alastor is at an unknown place called the Golden Dish.

Part 13 The Release

Two idiots meet on a sidewalk, one is drunk and one is stressed. Angst ensues. First Half is reader’s POV, second is Alastor’s POV.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem!Reader, two parts in one, still not smut cuz we’re waiting for the special moment, surprise Latin, Alastor drunkenly remembers his accent, angst, first fights, muffled confessions, bare feet, too much alcohol, Mimzy is her own tag, I promise she’ll be back」

MDNI 🥃 😵‍💫

The Release (Autumn)

Your relief Alastor wasn’t there was clouded by the slight hurt Alastor wasn’t there.

Any ability to mask your true feelings left you with the exhaustion of being arrested at work, in front of customers and companions alike. This was made obvious by Johnny’s slight pat to your shoulder, “Want me to walk you there?”

You shook your head. Everyone already knew too much. 

“It’s not too far, I think… I’ll be fine.” You could imagine Alastor’s panicked face. Had you ever actually seen it though? 

With a wave, you left Johnny and began the walk to, presumably, the Golden Dish. It was cold, already the night bringing a chill. Eyes to your feet, you realized you were still in her shoes. 

Where had she walked in New Orleans? Where did she meet Alastor’s father? You had to wonder what he had looked like. Surely he was handsome. Was he kind to her, like Alastor was to you? Or had it been a one night stand?

A small smile, she didn’t look like the type but looks could be deceiving. Alastor didn’t look like the kind of man who kissed bloodied cheeks and tossed heads into holes.

Flipping the card over again, you lifted it to the light. 

Tentatively you brought it to your nose and gave it a sniff. No perfume. 

The list of possibilities ran wild. 

You knew he wasn’t a virgin, and he’d mentioned before he’d been happily coupled with others before his preferences became their frustrations. But you’d never stopped to really imagine it past a fleeting image. Alastor kissing someone else. Alastor going down on someone else. Did he enjoy it as much as he enjoyed you?

It wasn’t necessarily jealousy, but your stomach did a little flip. Did they properly express their gratitude? Doubtful. How many times did he acquiesce to his partner’s wants and then be treated like it was the expectation and not an exception of his affections?

It wasn’t as late as you had thought and the streets were busy. It made you feel a little safer. Not having a purse helped that.

You weren’t entirely sure where Rosseau was, and after stopping a very lovely looking couple, you got hastily pointed toward the water. Anxiously, you kicked up your pace. The closer you got, the more nervous you were to see him. Not knowing how he felt, be it angry or worried or a mix of the two, was doing you in. Turning left, you practically jogged down the street in search of The Golden Dish.

On the first pass, you didn’t find it. You crossed the street and tried again, getting more of the buildings into sight. Nothing.

Crossing back, you found the door with a shiny golden number three.

The restaurant looked nice, but it wasn’t the Golden Dish. The name above the door was Grano D'oro.

You leaned into the alley, hoping maybe there was a man waiting with a secret door. It was pristine; no men, no trash, no mystery liquids.

Taking a moment to smooth your hair and adjust your dress, you walked in.

The entrance was lavish, the floor a black and white marble and fixtures that shined like gold. A man stood behind a host stand, looking at you expectantly. When you were within a few feet, he asked if you had a reservation.

“Uh, no. I’m looking for Alastor.”

“Does Alastor have a reservation?” He looked down, presumably at a paper of names, and then back up at you.

You looked past the parted red curtains into the dining room. “I don’t think so…ah! I have a card.” You handed it over and he gave it a look, flipping it over before nodding. “Just a moment, miss. Please wait here. You’re welcome to use the ladies room to clean up.”

From insulted to panicked, you realized you’d forgotten about your face. Pushing the heavy wooden door open to the bathroom, your reflection caught you off guard. Your eyes were encircled in black, scleras red, blush smeared into your hairline, and your lips were soft around the edges from misplaced lipstick. You looked like a wreck in human form.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you grabbed a tissue from the nearest stall and wetted it under the faucet, removing every bit of make up you could. The skin under your eyelashes still had a darkness to them and nothing could be done for the bloodshot eyes, but you let that go. You did away with the lipstick entirely, and most of the blush was out of your hair and off your cheeks. Now you just looked tired. 

Mortified, you remembered the couple you’d stopped and asked for directions from. They must have thought you’d had a fight or were some loon. Hell, maybe that was why no one stopped to bother you.

With one more glance at your disheveled appearance you sheepishly returned to the entrance and peeked into the dining room again. Everyone was dressed so nicely. You could imagine Alastor fitting in quite well. The host returned, not saying a word and sans Alastor. Before you could find the courage to ask him anything, a hand smacked your arm from behind.

“I thought you’d be more fatale and less femme. Anyways, your deadweight’s in the alley.” 

A small woman with bleach blonde hair had snuck up behind you, seemingly from the outside, “He’s got his card back. He’s your problem now!”

She brushed past you and disappeared into the restaurant.

“Have a nice evening.” The host dismissed you. A confused pause, the series of events had been so fast you were left quite literally spun around. 

When you tentatively turned back to leave, you saw Alastor stumbling onto the sidewalk. 

“Hey! Alastor.” You half shouted, Alastor seemingly unaware of his surroundings. Apparent in how he nearly collided into a group passing the restaurant.

He turned, smiled, and rushed towards you. Taking your head in his hands he kissed you on the lips, and when you pulled back he leaned in, tongue pressing into your mouth.

You screamed into his mouth, pushing him off. Looking back briefly before dragging him away, you saw the host staring at you through the clear windowed door. He was not impressed. As much as you enjoyed his kisses, it was out of character and out of class to make out on the sidewalk. 

Parks were different. Parks were made for such things. 

“What has gotten into you? You taste like a fucking distillery.” You reached the corner of the street and stopped, “Where’s your car?”

He was drunk. Completely smashed. Normally you wouldn’t care, drunk Alastor could be quite cute. But you’d been prepared for and in need of someone to talk to. Someone to ease the mess of feelings in your gut. Instead you were handed a job as caretaker and impromptu driver. You’d have to wait until the morning for any kind of sympathetic comfort. 

He hadn’t even mentioned the arrest yet or asked you how you were. Yes, he looked elated to see you. Eyes wide and adoring when he took you by the face. But you needed more than adoration now. And instead you had a mess of a man struggling to maintain his balance.

On the safety of his porch, or perhaps together at a bar, it’d be just fine. 

But this was neither safe nor fine. 

Alastor pulled his arm from your hold, “At that little park. Audubon.” He pointed west, saying it with a perfect accent. “Anyway, I’m gonna kill him. Maybe right now! Did I tell ya? I know where he lives.” He crossed the street without looking. 

You had to run to catch up to him, his long legs carrying him further and faster than you. It took a second to understand who he was talking about, clearly he’d been having a silent conversation until now. “Alastor. You’re drunk. No.” You managed to get in front of him, eyes surely begging.

“Alastor, yes. He’s got two kids, a wife. He stays out late, obsessin’ over us no doubt.”

“Alastor!” He stumbled past you and toward the park. “Hey. You can’t-,” 

He wheeled around on his heels, hand pointing a sharp finger at you. 

“Who are you to stop me? To tell me,” a pause as he lost his balance and leaned too far to the right, catching himself with a sneer to his own legs. He turned back and continued on his way, “what I can and cannot do.” You stopped. The sound of his mother’s shoes no longer snapping behind him made Alastor pause his clumsy march and look back at you. “Are ya really not comin’?” His sharp tone had shifted down to a whiny, almost pleading one.

“Who am I, Alastor?” In the past you’d try to hide when you were wounded, as prey animals often do. But you were different from who you were before. Already, you were changed. Hiding yourself from him felt like betrayal, so you’d abandoned it some time ago. Your chin quivered, hands gripping the sides of your dress in stress. Your eyes were pleading with him to not do this. To not throw you away so easily. Diminish you with one slurred sentence. It felt like a dare to your pride. A choice, your self respect or his attention. It was a rhetorical question, as the answer would be a revelation to an entirely different quandary. 

He laughed, “Now who’s drunk?” Your arms crossed your chest and your eyes narrowed further into slits. 

“I thought you’d stop if I asked. I thought I was your equal in this.”

“Well!” He gawked, “This is different. He isn’t like the others. Mister Detective Kenneth Brady is-,” he practically yelled it into the night.

“Shhh!” You hissed, a couple crossing the street to put distance between you both and themselves, “Give me your key. You can’t drive like this.”

Alastor stared you down, his height finally mattering in a way you didn’t like. 

Your eyes narrowed further, Alastor. Unspoken and yet screamed across the sidewalk. You weren’t scared of him, of his height or his sharp eyes or the fact you knew he so often carried a knife beneath his vest. No. Because he was a smart man and a smart man would never be so stupid as to physically harm you. Not unless he planned to kill you. And Alastor wouldn’t do that unless you were honestly bad.

The only way he could ever truly hurt you was with that cutting muscle behind his teeth. 

He tried to straighten his back to gather some kind of dignity and perhaps a show of dominance but stumbled backwards. He caught himself again with the brick wall beside him. 

Mind racing, you had to think of alternatives. Fight him for the keys? Cut into his tires? Just leave him to his own selfish devices? 

He could afford to fix the rubber tires, you thought. You couldn’t afford him running off the road. 

“If you want me to come with you, I am driving. Make your decision now.” You put your hand out, an indication there was only one answer you expected. When his eyes flitted from your palm to your face and stared blankly, you closed it. “I won’t let a man waste my time when I’m just trying to help him. You’ve got me confused with someone else.”

Turning around, you walked the way you’d both just come because truth be told you had no idea how to get home from where you were. You just needed to get away from him before you said something you didn’t mean. Before he said something you couldn’t forget. 

You’d barely gotten five steps when you heard a clank to the ground. Turning just enough to see behind you, you noticed the car door key on the sidewalk. Alastor’s grin wide and childlike.

Never had you felt true anger for him before. The water rising in your chest raged against your ribs and you were sure you’d drown in your own fury before long. Another second of imagined possibilities — kick them into the storm drain, throw them into a bush, take them and leave entirely.

Before you could pick one he stumbled over while bent in half the entire time, scooping the keys and holding them out for you to take.

A list of names flew over your tongue but stayed behind your clenched teeth, snatching the keys from his hand and leaving him to struggle behind you. 

The walk was silent, Alastor several paces behind you with his hands in his pockets.

He slumped against the passenger side window the entire car ride home. You struggled with the shifting stick, and he didn’t offer any help. A petulant brat pouting into the glass.

As soon as you’d gotten into the house Alastor made a sloppy beeline to the sofa and fell face first.

“You’re mad at me.” You said from the doorway, dropping his keys into the bowl beside the door. It felt odd, you were the one who had every right to be pissed. But he was showing it in a much more egregious way. His anger made the least sense to you. 

“No. I’m mad.” He grabbed a pillow and tucked it under his head. “Full stop.”

Obviously, but why? Not an ounce of compassion could be managed for you? When you were the one who’d been humiliated and dragged from your place of work in handcuffs? 

“You’re acting like a child. Go to your bed. I’ll sleep here.” Sleeping alone in his bed didn’t seem right.

“You’re talkin’ to me like a child.” He closed his eyes, apparently in a fake sleep.

“You really don’t see the connection between those two things?? Atleast— go to the guest bed.” His mother’s old room. You absolutely didn’t want to sleep there. 

“No.” He didn’t look at you. 

You stared for a moment, disbelief painted on your face as your own frustration swelled again.

“Suit yourself. I don’t have patience for this, Alastor. You’re acting like a brat when I’m the one who had the hard night.” You turned to go upstairs before coming back, something your mother always did in arguments that you hated, “And I really don’t appreciate the way you’re treating me. We’ll talk in the morning.”

He didn’t even stir.

After placing his mother’s shoes at the end of the bed, you got undressed and properly washed your face. It wasn’t until you were under the covers, alone, did you begin to cry. It was mostly anger, if you were honest. But a good dose of self pity mixed in. Practically running to find him, after thinking about just him for hours before, and to be met with a drunken child was disappointing beyond measure. And the disrespect of tossing his keys…

The bed felt so big and so foreign now. Just sitting in it made you feel like shit. A stranger, unwanted in someone else’s home. You could remember the uneasy feeling you had when your mother would leave you with friends when she had work. How every inch moved felt like you were brushing into poison ivy, it wasn’t your space, you didn’t know the rules or the norms. Now you felt you no longer knew your place in Alastor’s home. 

If you weren’t scared you’d never see him again you’d have just walked the several hours home. Knees to your chin, you didn’t bother with wiping away your tears. It added to the wallowing you were experiencing.

What did he mean? Why would he say it like that? Had it been a lie the whole time, that he’d stop killing if you asked him to? Alastor had never hissed quite like he had then. 

It felt like a lie, and now you questioned everything. Maybe while you worked he was out killing people. You never pushed him much about what he did while you were away.

A secondary thought simultaneously played with that one. No, you’d have noticed him at night taking care of the body. Your face slipped past your knees and pressed into the tops of your thighs, as quickly as the fear receded your melancholy swept back in.

Fine, but if he lied about stopping then you didn’t mean as much as he claimed.

Which was fine, you lied to yourself. You just needed to know the parameters so you could stay within them. Not take things too seriously. Not expect too much from him.

Not give too much of yourself. 

A second wave of tears, chin trembling.

Idiot. 

Maybe Brady had been right. Were you just some dumb dame? You’d done so much for him and now with some liquor you were just another person to him.

Then a sickening feeling made your throat tighten. Had getting arrested made you no longer attractive? Perhaps he blamed you. Being publicly dragged into a police station was the closest he had ever been to being found out and it was your fault. Fuck, even his name. That had been you who said it so casually. 

You didn’t want to be somewhere you weren’t welcomed.

Slipping out of bed, you pulled your bag from the closet and sat it on the dresser.

You couldn’t believe you had wanted to tell him you loved him. How long had you choked back those words for your own personal safety, just to be in a man’s home far from your own with no real way back. You pulled your dresses from the closet, and paused.

Alastor had been lovingly removing your stockings just a week or so ago. 

After tossing innards into the water. He’d showed you where he buried the only evidence of his expansive crimes. He trusted you with things he’d never shown anyone, something you felt sure of given his freedom. 

Glancing up through tear-heavy lashes, you saw your reflection in the mirror and remembered how he kissed your shoulder and undressed you. His promise to keep you warm.

A shiny and sunlit movie played of him slipping off your shoes and putting yours on his feet. 

Your mother had always said you were too quick to give up when things didn’t come easy. You resented that, but now it was ringing painfully true. 

You put the dresses back, tossing your bag to the floor and kicking it halfheartedly under the dresser.

Lying down again, you tried to take deep breaths. He’d said he wasn’t mad at you. Was he not allowed to make mistakes? Could he not be angry around you without you taking it personally even when he said it wasn't for you? That was unfair of you. You were expecting a drunk man to speak clearly and with well thought out perception of how he’d be heard. The reasons for his drunkenness were unknown, and when you stopped to consider things more, you’d never just out right told him how you felt. Until you were upset and going up the stairs. Admittedly, to your defense, he was very drunk. 

He owed you an apology, that was absolutely expected given the way he’d spoken and tossed his keys, but he’d done enough to earn the right to explain himself before you just up and left in the middle of the night.

The idea of him waking up to an empty home and a migraine almost brought you back to tears. Alastor’s distaste for being alone had become clear, in the way he used to go out often just to have dance company, how he so quickly pulled you into his home and lap. You’d feel his heart break from across the river if you up and left while he slept. 

Johnny had said he was a mess before, clearly he did care to some degree. You’d trusted him this long. You’d killed a man for him. You could give him a night to be an ass and hear him out in the morning.

But if he didn’t apologize, if he didn’t seem to understand how selfish and unkind he had been to you… You rolled onto your side and tried to straighten your legs but felt vulnerable like that. Pulling them up again you curled into a ball and focused on deep calming breaths. It would be fine. The best way to find out if someone was worth trusting was to trust them. Alastor had been worth so much more than you’d expected a person could be. This was just a hiccup. 

Thinking back on past relationships, you realized most first fights were also your last fights. If you and someone had friction, it was easiest to walk away and try again. There was no expectation of a picture perfect romance, not at all. But once someone disappointed you, it was hard to see them again in a positive light. Throwing things away had always been simpler than putting in the work to fix them. Once you’ve done that, you’ve shown someone your hand. You’ve shown them they mattered and they could use that against you. 

People who knew they were important to you could hold that over your head and push just how much they could get away with. 

Alastor, what more could he do? What on earth could he possibly get away with? He had no interest in stepping out, and he couldn’t easily date when his hobbies and home were crime scenes.

The person with the most to lose was him, you realized. Maybe not lose you, you didn’t pretend you were that important to him. But his life away from iron bars and cuffs was now dependent on you. If he had always been a few too many drinks away from fucking that all up, he’d have been caught a long time ago. 

He would make it better. He would say whatever really happened in the morning and fix it. You could trust that and let your eyes finally close. Alastor hadn’t failed you yet, and you believed he wouldn’t start now. 

When you woke up, it was early. Unnaturally early for you. But stress did that. Whatever the opposite of Christmas morning, that was the mechanism pulling you out of bed as the sun was just beginning to rise. 

He was still asleep on the couch when you crept down the stairs. He looked like shit. Which made you feel a little good. If he looked perfect it’d be immensely dissatisfying. You tried to open the back door quietly but the old hinges whined and the swollen wooden door snapped against the frame when you let it go. 

Sitting on the top of the porch steps that led to the backyard, if you could call such an expanse that, you tried to take in the wet cool air. It was officially fall. Soon you’d have to pull out your coat. Your toes wiggled against the flaking paint of the steps, you still needed to go home and get your shoes. 

A groan and you doubled over, you were assuming so confidently that you’d still be staying with Alastor. That was a good thing, right? Or…. you weren’t sure. You had no healthy relationships to look to for guidance. Rolling your back up, you looked up at the dark cobalt sky fading into baby blue, a color that matched the ceiling of the porch above you. 

You heard the creak of the screen door and felt the old wood bend behind you as he finally stumbled out. He plopped down beside you, before lowering himself to his right side and resting his head on your lap. He stared out at the greenhouse like you did. Your hands twitched to touch him, but you kept them to your sides. 

“You are my darling.” He said with a raspy voice hoarse from an intoxicated dehydration. You finally looked at him, but he didn’t meet the gaze. “That’s who you are.”

“You sure didn’t make me feel like your anything last night.” Your tone was cold and sharp, spoken like a stranger scolding another. Stay strong, you thought. Make him understand how he made you feel before, even if you were already cooling off. 

You saw the fabric of your white slip turn a storm grey beneath his face, tears tumbling across the bridge of his nose before seeping into the night dress.

“I know. I’m sorry. I was so,” he sighed and you took your opportunity.

“Drunk.”

“Enraged.” He whined, eyelids coming to act as a poor dam, “And drunk.”

“And disrespectful.”

He groaned now, shoulders tightening in shame, “That too.”

You understood he was angry. Did he think you weren’t? You’d been humiliated. You’d been interrogated. 

“I want to split his skull with an ax.” His fingers were playing with something beneath his closed thighs, hands pressed between them.  “I’m sorry. I— you were not wrong.” You caught a glimpse of the bright yellow handkerchief being wrung between sweaty palms with nervous fingers when he finally opened his legs. “I didn’t know what to do with myself when your manager said you’d been arrested. I almost drove my car into the station doors.”

“So getting zozzled and shouting the personal details of a New Orleans detective into the night seemed… the better option? When I had already had a difficult evening?” You felt a flame in your chest again. “When I needed your support? Comfort?”

He nodded, slick and smooth face gliding over the silk. A sob, choked and broken as he buried his head again into your lap. “I’d never felt so helpless, I just…I responded very selfishly. I’m sorry.” 

The heavy and hot indignation finally began to cool in you, and you let yourself run your fingers through his hair. 

“Will you ever let me kill him?” He asked your thighs.

You thought for a moment. The safety in Alastor’s killings were the degrees of separation between him and his targets. The plausible deniability. The lack of obvious motive. If you could find that same safety net when killing Brady, then, sure. “When he’s no longer a threat to us. When no one will be shocked to hear he’s dead.” 

His arms came to hold onto your legs, soft pads of his digits stroking the skin beneath your clothing.

“He went too far.” Alastor muttered, moving his head enough to look at you from the corner of his eyes. 

“And he knows your name.” You added, the arrest being of equal importance if not less. 

“I’m beginning to think it doesn’t matter.” Alastor inched his body closer to you. “I’ve never been a bigger failure in all my life than last night. In every way. To myself and to you.” His head turned, the soft and sharp features alike of his face burying into your lap. A gentle shake of his shoulders as he lost his fight to not weep openly into you broke your heart. He let out a weak and muffled series of sounds, followed by a louder and clearer, “Do you want to leave me?”

Wincing, you remembered how close you’d been to doing just that. It was good though that he asked. Indicating Alastor knew how serious you took the way he had acted the night before. 

You pulled his head up by the back of his collar. With your first good look at him in the crisp orange morning light you could see his lips were red and raw from nervous chewing, his hair lacking its usual shine or form. The right side of his face was wet. Tears new and old began to reroute and slide down his high cheeks and pointed jaw. They met at the very bottom of his chin, for the first time in their short lives, and dropped onto you in little couplings. Falling like they were made to always do just that. Just now. Just for him. A fate you could understand so naturally it was bordering on unnerving. A love story you were sure you were playing out.

How rarely you’d seen a man cry. In the past perhaps you’d have been put off. Cringed. Considered it a pathetic show of weakness and lost respect for them. But all you could feel now was a pain so deep and all encompassing it felt as if your skin was cracking off. A dry river bed in the heat of summer. What had been there before? Disgust? Indifference? Even his tears were of a magnitude more important than anyone else’s. Every piece of him mattered more to you. 

Leave him? Of course not. No matter what he did, dead or alive, monster or man, you would never hate him enough. And that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. No, that absolutely wasn’t a good thing. A dangerous something he could never fully be told. 

Oh.

Ruth’s words on the roof crawled from their grave and tugged at your ankles. 

You were in that worst kind of love; Unconditional. 

Fireworks were out of the question but you could manage something for him. You had to tell him. Things were too far gone now and you couldn’t be sure how much time was left now that Brady had a name.

“Give me a little time. I’ll show you how stupid of a question that is over our first fight,” Your thumbs wiped away his tears. The handkerchief came back to view, so you gingerly took it and dabbed the sacred lacrima from his cheeks. You took his head between both hands and stared unflinching into the sweet, sun kissed brown of his eyes, “I never want to leave you. Even if I do, even if somehow I’m convinced to go, you’ll have to rip your heart out of my cold dead hands or I’ll take it with me.” 

“What have I told you? Don’t mention those things. The spirits are listening.” He attempted a gentle smile through his tear stained cheeks and you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him. How could someone so good with a knife be so soft?

Another torrent of tears from him and a reply so earnest and so sure your body leaned back with surprise, “But, it’s not mine anymore. Isn’t that obvious?” He half whispered it into the ether.

Please, you begged whoever listened when you prayed, don’t weaken my self respect. Straightening your back to summon some form of resolve, you voiced it.

“If you ever speak to me like you did last night again, with that sharp tone and cruel words, sober or not…” you trailed off, begging him to not make you say it. Don’t force you to make threats you didn’t want to keep. Things you’d be ashamed of not following through with. Little self failures you were genetically predisposed of committing. 

“You can take my heart with you.” 

A wonderful reply.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The Release (Alastor)

When Alastor didn’t see you at the side door or back street, he dared to walk around the block to the front of the theater. He was surprised, like many others, to find the doors locked.

A trickle of fear dropped down his spine. Worst case scenario didn’t quite exist as some ladder of concerns, he just felt tremendous fear you were dead. That was the only rung. Had someone been watching you, that he didn’t notice as he was too preoccupied with watching Brady? 

“Alastor?” 

His eyes snapped from the marquee to the young man poking his head out of the doors. 

He nodded, “Johnathon, right?” Alastor moved on autopilot, hand coming to shake your manager’s.

“Johnny. Come inside.”

Alastor didn’t move. Hand still in the air between them. Johnny registered the distinct lack of light in Alastor’s eyes. He took a deep breath in, Alastor looked like a photograph of a man before him. There but, just a facsimile of human.

“She’s okay. Come on.” He gestured firmly, Alastor blinking back to life and slipping in.

Ruth hopped from her seat at the sight of the tall paramour. 

“The bastard arrested her! Prostitution.” 

Alastor’s mouth opened and then closed. He swallowed, then smiled, and his head did a little tilt. Ruth looked from him to Johnny. Alastor’s rolodex of canned responses spun infinitely around in his mind. Nothing was catching. There wasn’t a facial expression or comment or body posture in existence he had prepared for this conversation. Because he hadn’t ever predicted such a situation.

“He did it in front of everyone. He made a real scene of it.” Johnny leaned against the bar and tapped a cigarette, “I told her I’d fill you in.”

Brady had arrested you. You’d been arrested. 

“Prostitution?” Alastor finally spoke.

Ruth shook her head, “Yeah but absolute bullshit. She doesn’t have any want or need for extra money.”

Alastor nodded. It wasn’t his worry. His eyes quickly flitted around the air to the concern of the other two, searching his memory for any sense.

The man he punched? What was his name again? No. He didn’t know where you worked. He didn’t know your name. 

But, perhaps— no. He blinked away his runaway errands list.

“Any idea of the bond? How much should I bring?” He patted his pockets, fingers fumbling when he fished out his wallet. “I could get more, but I’ll need to go—,”

He was in disarray, a tremble in his hands making him pause and stare at his own body with a loss of recognition.

“I’m not sure…” Johnny said it slowly, “Ruth could you grab her bag from the back for me.”

When she was out of ear shot Johnny set his hand on Alastor’s, who was still staring in confusion at his own limbs, and made him lower the wallet.  

“Hey, I was there that night you cornered Tommy into the booth. I saw you two. The night he hit her. Tommy was a real piece of shit. And I’m glad he’s gone.”

Alastor’s eyes met Johnny’s and he wondered what he looked like to the other man. He felt the corner of his frozen smile twitch but he managed to keep from reacting otherwise. How many missteps had he taken?

For a moment, time stood still and he imagined dragging Johnny into the alley by his neck. Then Ruth. Who else needed to go? He’d carry them all away into the dark. 

“I'm no rat! I didn’t tell anyone anything.” A beat as he tried to read the face Alastor was making. A small tight smile and wide eyes that made Johnny’s skin crawl. Was he angry? No, his brows weren’t scrunched up. Was he suspicious? Maybe. Whatever feeling a trapped fox feels when the hound is close. But Johnny didn’t register that. “Just, ya know, I’m glad someone told him off. He was shaking like a leaf after. Anyway,” a nervous clearing of his throat, “I don’t think you should go to the precinct. I’ll go, I’ll pay the bail with some cash from the safe. You two can pay it back.”

No response. Alastor’s thoughts a tangled ball of red wool yarn, every time he tried to pull out a coherent reply the knot seemed to tighten and stiffen. He leaned back a little, trying to fit more of Johnny into his view. Wanting all of the smaller man to be seen.

“I feel kinda responsible. I should have spoken up when I learned what he was doing.” Johnny offered a smile of his own, something about it made him look younger than he was. “Just tell me where you’ll be, I’ll send her that way when she’s released. Maybe in the morning.”

“Responsible for what?” Ruth smacked Alastor’s arm with your small black handbag.

“For her arrest. I should have done more.” Johnny thanked her for the bag. “Where should I say you’ll be?”

“I’ll wait in my car.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll go crazy like that, just find somewhere quiet and have a drink.” Ruth turned Alastor around and pushed him towards the doors. 

“The Golden Dish. I’ll be there. Just,” Alastor stopped to pull a card from his wallet and hand it to Johnny, “Tell her to give the host this card and ask for me.”

“Well, go have a drink, try to just… try to stay calm.” Ruth’s words barely entered his mind as he stumbled out into the night. Thoughts came so quickly and in such a multitude that Alastor found his head entirely empty, unable to latch onto any single one.

He was unlocking his car door and then he looked up — he was across the street from the station. How he got from the theater to here was unknown to him. Clearly he had driven, but with what mind he had no idea. 

Long fingers gripped the steering wheel, knuckles an uncomfortable white with the force. How much would it take to snap the wheel? Had anyone ever tried before?

A deep breath, he didn’t remember holding it until his head began spinning. In the mess of thoughts, he saw flashes of what he could do. Questions to narrow down his options. Did the rooms have windows? Could he climb in one and drag Brady out?

But he didn’t know how many people there were. How many rooms. Where Brady was. Where you were.

Deep breath, he was holding it again and the thought of you being grilled by a cop made him involuntarily gasp for air.

There was no fear you’d say anything. It simply didn’t exist. Even trying to conjure the idea of you telling anyone who he was and what he did was ridiculous to him. A dark part of him knew that notion was born out of a blinding fear and not out of true trust. Because if you did such a thing, it’d mean he’d been wrong about everything. That he couldn’t trust his own decisions anymore. What would he do if you did confess?

Well, he was quite sure he’d die. Perhaps not literally. But Alastor as he was would wither and disappear. He’d be someone —- something entirely different.

But he didn’t stop to think about that. Because it wasn’t a possibility. 

With a full body tremble, Alastor leaned back into the seat and ran his fingers through his hair. He felt torn down the center. Half of him was marching into the station and doing…. He wasn’t sure. The rest was just black.

Half of him was driving away to go hide in a glass of whisky until you were released.

What would you want him to do?

He started the car and headed toward the river’s edge, hoping to find a parking spot not too far from the illicit bar.

Alastor made a beeline for the bathrooms just past the entrance of the Grano D'oro. His hair was mussed, his pupils constricted. He drew his bottom lip in and began chewing it nervously, hands pushing his hair back into some form of style. A cough to clear out his tightening throat, he straightened his bow tie and suit jacket. Staring at his reflection, he flinched. An unsettling feeling in his bones that if he stared long enough, it would take on a life of its own.

Something wasn’t right. His nightmares were back and following him around in his waking hours. Terrors of losing his control over himself. Deep seated insecurities about his work.

Alastor approached the host and explained his card was on loan to someone who would be by later. Normally it didn’t work like that, no card meant no entry. But Alastor was a regular. The man nodded and led Alastor into the main dining hall.

Alastor offered passing pleasantries to a few people and smiled as he was escorted past them to the private dining section of Grano D'oro. Separated by another large but closed curtain, the host moved it aside and let Alastor enter. The hall had a few doors but two large doors swung out from the kitchen.

Through the kitchen, with a smile and another nod to the staff who all sang his name as he walked by, Alastor made it to the barely visible door to the side.

Finally, he descended the stairs to the very lively and very lovely bar of his dear friend, Mimzy.

She clapped her hands enthusiastically at the sight of him, taking him by the arm and dragging him to the counter.

“Little late for you isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be at home with your heart.” She dragged out the word, eyes rolling not at the idea of you but at the idea of someone being more important than a night out.

Alastor plopped onto the stool and came to rest both elbows on the bar, “Should be.”

“Fight?” She was already wiping down a glass for him, his head was in his hands which was… a new sight. Sloppily, with some splashing out and onto the bar top, she poured two fingers and slid it to him.

“Worse. Arrest.” His hands curled around the cup and he considered not drinking it at all. His mother warned him to never drink alone and never drink when upset. He fudged the first rule often. But he really did follow the second. 

“Oh fuck.” Mimzy added two more fingers to the glass. “What for?”

He stared into the whisky before taking a large mouthful and forcing it down with a burning gulp, “Prostitution.” He croaked.

“That’s not illegal.” 

Alastor’s stress was momentarily broken and he looked incredulously at who could be called his closest friend, “Yes, it is, Mimz.”

With a hand on her hip she looked up in thought, “Huh…. Well, ya learn something new every day!”

Alastor held the glass with both hands now, “You do know alcohol is illegal, right? Production and consumption?” He watched her face sour, hand moving to gesture at the windowless room they were in.

“Duh. Why else would I be in this makeshift box?” It was rhetorical, Alastor rolling his eyes and lowering his face to his glass. 

Nervously he chewed on his bottom lip, biting red lines into the soft pink flesh. Mimzy stared, unnoticed. She couldn’t remember the last time he looked sad. He did sometimes open up when drunk, perhaps smiling through a pitiful story. Or dancing when she knew he was bruised in either his ego or his heart. But, normally, for Alastor, he kept the obvious and plain emotions kept tightly buttoned up. 

“So, why are you here all long faced? Did you arrest her or something?”

Alastor’s fingers found their way into his hair again, “I might as well have. It’s my fault.”

It was, without a doubt in his mind, his fault. He pulled you in. He killed your boss without any care for what you thought. He made you a shield and a target, stupid. Alastor couldn’t argue against it. 

You’d been forced to lie for him. To sneak and hide from police for him. He was no better than the spineless men he often chased. How could he be so selfish? It stung his chest and his eyes, the thought of you so sweetly sitting beside him just to be dragged into a police station. It was his fault. 

Mimzy hummed, pretending to wipe down the counter, “Then fix it. If you fucking did it, then make it better.”

Yes, obviously, but, “I don’t know how. I-,” Another forced mouthful of whisky, “I roughed up her former guy. For mistreating her. He’s been going around causing trouble now, lying about her. He doesn’t know it was me.” A lie that roughly summed up the trouble. Enough that he could vent, perhaps get third party insight. Though, admittedly, Mimzy wasn’t his first person to turn to for advice. 

“And you can’t just,” she made a fist with her thumb stuck out and dragged it across her neck in a cutting motion, “get rid of the issue?”

Killing Brady would solve everything. And it’d feel good. It’d feel….ah, he leaned back, letting his chest open and fill with the shadow of satisfaction, it’d be the best kill yet. How would he do it, he wondered. It’d have to be special. Slow. Perhaps even over the course of days. Oh, or better yet, perhaps he could show Brady exactly how he disposed of his targets. Piece by piece, taking from him and letting him watch as he buried his parts in deep holes. Giving him all the answers to his questions before snuffing out his nagging life. 

Lost in thought, he didn’t see Mimzy walk away and come back with a different bottle. The big guns, she thought. 

“That a no? Weeell,” She poured herself a glass, “Maybe go talk to the guy. Put the fear of God in ‘em! Let him know if he tries anymore shit,” she waved her finger around, “he’s gonna eat dirt.”

A threat….scare him? 

No one would believe Brady, he considered. If someone pulled him back into the shadows of his tree lined street with a blade to his throat and gave him the warning of what was to come if he kept this up….Did he have any allies in this at work?

“But you can’t do nothing. She’s your gal, right? Arresting her is like….it’s like throwing a drink in your face. He’s embarrassing you.”

A lump rose in this throat, the two large gulps of drink metabolizing and carrying away his ability to remember not to take advice from Mimzy. 

In fact, as he took a slower sip of his somehow still full glass, he thought she was quite right. Brady was testing his pride. Hurting the closest person he had to get at him. This was villain activity. 

If he didn’t reply, he’d be saying he didn’t care at all about you. He’d be the man Brady told you he was. A coward using you until you weren’t convenient anymore. Alastor’s leg began to bounce against the stool’s foothold. Yes, yeah, he had to act. Someone was challenging him. Someone was swinging you around in front of him, taunting how weak he was that he couldn’t even protect you. 

Either Brady thought Alastor was all bark and no bite, only attacking men alone at night, or, worse, he thought Alastor was using you.

Alastor stood quickly, but paused as his head sloshed to the left and he leaned with it. Steadying himself on the bar he looked down at Mimzy.

“Ah, he’s at work.” He stated it plainly, as if Mimzy already knew this. 

“Oh, then just enjoy some drinks and jazz while you wait! When is he off?”

“I don’t know…but, she’ll come get me when she’s released. So….after that?” Alastor was already losing sight of the lie he had told her earlier. He didn’t notice her top up his glass for a third time. 

“Perfect! Now, gossip. You gotta fill me in with the trashy news. You haven’t come by in so long.” She leaned across the bar, swirling her glass clumsily, big eyes blinking.

“Don’t try to distract me. I’m in no mood for such trivial things, Mimz. My love was arrested. At work no less. I’m useless.”

The very notion of thinking about anything but you made his stomach turn. 

As the time ticked on though, that turning was quickly becoming more of a reaction to the liquor and less to do with his stress. 

The only person who knew how much he’d downed was Mimzy, who kept track on his tab with an out-of-character diligence. When the host knocked on the door, she opened it to receive Alastor’s card and knew you must have come for him. 

Getting him up the stairs was difficult, but he was too drunk to let him go through the restaurant. The fine people upstairs had no idea liquor was being served in their fancy dining hall. So Mimzy let Alastor lean on her as she pushed them through the back doors and to the storage room. Opening the trash shoot, she pushed the man out and let him trip through the small opening. 

“This way, big guy,” She tugged him by the lapel through the alley and toward the street. 

She saw you standing there, looking into the restaurant expectedly, and told him to stay put. Mimzy slipped his card into his suit pocket and bee lined to you. You looked different than she’d expected. She wasn’t really sure what she was expecting…actually, on second thought, she had just imagined a female Alastor. Alastor with a perm and an empire waist dress. A little out of fashion but classy. 

She smacked your arm with the back of her hand and left you to him. 

Alastor stumbled onto the sidewalk, the lights blinding compared to the dark and smokey illicit club down he’d just fallen out of. He’d never used the back door, and he decided, somewhere in the mess of his thoughts, he didn’t particularly care for it. 

“Hey! Alastor!”

His head swung around at the sound of your voice, it was you. You were free. Shrugging off his panic like a heavy fur coat he rushed to you, taking your face in his big hands to kiss you. Grateful. He was so grateful you were back. He couldn’t let Brady take you again. How could he show you how seriously he felt?

What did people like? Kisses. People liked kisses. And passion. And touch. 

He’d translate his determination into lavishing you. When you made a yelp and pushed him away, he was confused. Why weren’t you happy to see him? 

Icy cold fear dripped and trickled down his ribs that Brady had said something to make you believe you were just collateral. You pulled him by the wrist, not looking at him, and he felt sure he had made a mistake in not going to the station. 

In the mud that was his thinking, he was sure this was the issue. What an idiot. He never let others tell him how to act or live, and yet he let some manager keep him from seeing you? He let a pissant like Brady take you and whisper poison into your ear. 

He had to fix it. He had to make it better. 

“Where’s your car?”

Ah, his car! Yes! Alastor had the power to make this all better immediately. Why didn’t he do this an hour ago? He couldn’t remember…. Alastor took his arm back, pointing you toward the park, “At that little park. Audubon.” It was a lovely little park, he thought. 

Your breath against his body when you and him first entertained affection came to his mind so intensely he thought maybe he had been pulled back in time. He paused, remembering the last park you both sat in, covered in blood and trembling. 

He needed to make it up to you.

“Anyway, I’m gonna kill him. Maybe right now! Did I tell ya? I know where he lives.” The stalking and studying was part of the fun, it made the meal tastier. And he had been sure to study Brady. When his work ended and you were busy still, he learned everything he could about the nosy cop. 

Unfortunately, most of what he learned was that Brady rarely went home at a normal time and he was relentless in his pursuit of information about you both. Many nights he shadowed the detective and heard Brady pestering and questioning locals about missing people and illegal going-ons at your theater. It wasn’t because he wanted to clean up the streets, that was obvious. Those nightly walks were a pig sniffing around in the mud for a kernel. All he needed was a good enough accusation to rush in and shut shit down. 

“Alastor.” Your voice saying his name pulled him back to the present, he paused for a beat to figure out where he was, he had thought you’d both been in front of the restaurant just a second ago. 

“You’re drunk. No.”

You slipped in front of him, making him nearly collide into you. No? Yes! What did drunkenness have to do with anything? Perhaps you didn’t understand. He did the work! He knew exactly what to do and where to go. Ah, of course. You didn’t know. How could you? He never told you what he did while waiting for you to finish up at work.

“Alastor, yes. He’s got two kids, a wife. He stays out late, obsessin’ over us no doubt.” Raising his head, he felt a swell of pride. Don’t worry, dear. I’ve not made mistakes this time.

You hissed his name as he moved past you, if he was quick he could catch the bastard before he got into his house. His road was lined with trees, shady and quiet. It’d be so easy. Fuck, it was even better suited for his hobbies than alleys and parks. How odd. 

“Hey. You can’t-,”

The word set something off in him. Can’t? Why do people keep telling him what to do or not to do?! Why were people always fucking giving him limitations? 

Brady had done this. You’d never– He was just trying to clean up his mess. Why did people think they could dictate his life so freely? Why did what he wanted to do not matter, even though he was just trying to be a good man?

“Who are you to stop me? To tell me,” He whipped around, losing his balance as he tried to recorrect. Alastor paused to stare down at his legs. Et tu, crura? Even his own body was betraying him. Saying his desires were moot points. Fine, fuck it. He barely needed legs to drive anyway. If he could just do things the way he always did, you’d see how capable he was. Brady would see how fucking stupid he was. Tommy could rot in hell harder if that was an option. 

Ah, it was quiet. How long had he been in his head? Had you said something and he didn’t hear? Oh you had stopped walking. “Are ya really not comin’?”

You had told him to not go alone, to always have you nearby when he killed. You not coming made no sense at all. 

“Who am I, Alastor?” Your voice was high pitched, he could hear your throat constricting. The reason wasn’t known to him though. People often did that before he killed him. 

What an odd question. Had you used your stage name so long you’d forgotten your true one. He laughed, what a silly thing to ask! “Now who is drunk?”

When your arms crossed and you glared back at him, his head cocked to the side. He wondered if you were playing around. You often pretended to be cross with him to make him pull you close and make you smile. 

“I thought you’d stop if I asked. I thought I was your equal in this.”

Not a joke. Well yes, of course you were. But this wasn’t that. 

“Well!” Alastor searched the sidewalk for the words, “This is different! He isn’t like the others. Mister Detective Kenneth Brady is-.” He was getting mad. Not at you, persay, but at the entire mess before him. 

“Shhh!” You seethed, “Give me your key. You can’t drive like this.”

What? 

Oh, so now he can’t drive? Your trust in him had been so eroded with just one private meeting with Brady. And did you shush him? 

Alastor, don’t go to the station. 

Alastor, don’t clean up the mess you made for me. 

Alastor, don’t drive. 

He didn’t want to fight with you. To argue or assert dominance, but…he stood up straighter to simulate sobriety. It failed, his hand jutting out to brace against the wall for stability. A failure that added to a growing pile of failures.

He caught himself and stared back at you. No. It was his car. Alastor was putting his drunken, clumsy foot down.

“If you want me to come with you, I am driving. Make your decision now.” 

When your hand came out for the keys he looked down to it and then back to you. What was that? What were you doing? 

You closed it,  “I won’t let a man waste my time when I’m just trying to help him. You’ve got me confused with someone else.”

Your turning and walking back forward the restaurant made his eyes roll. Oh, the keys still. He pulled them from his pocket, fine, have them. I give up. Failure pile growin’ every minute.

He tossed them into the space between you both, smiling to himself. You wanted the keys, he thought, there you go.

But when you turned around, he could feel the rage rolling off of your body. Alastor couldn’t pinpoint what it was about your face that was different than usual, but just beneath your skin he could see a you he’d never met before. One he didn’t care to meet. 

Fuck. 

He’d fucked up.

A flash of embarrassment sizzled in his stomach before he lurched forward and grabbed the keys, offering them to you properly.

He followed behind, too stubborn to show you the way but unwilling to be without you. 

Leaning into the window, he stared at the city as it rolled by, until it turned to water and then to woods. The air was stiff and suffocating. He hated it. Why were you so mad at him?

Alastor couldn’t understand what had happened. He was so happy to see you but immediately you pushed him away and dragged him off like a child being taken to the headmaster. What had happened at the station, he wondered. There was no way to ask now. The mood was too heavy, and he was too insolent to be the first one to speak. You were mad at him. You didn’t trust him. You, probably, we’re fed up with the complications of his company.

The pain behind his sternum was akin to a splintering rod; stiff, solid, and biting every time he moved. No one had ever made him feel this way before. He couldn’t put his finger on the feeling though, it was sadness, and it hurt, but there was something deeper. Something underneath these shallow reactions that dredged up a vague sense of mourning.

Regret?

He slammed the car door behind him and fell into the sofa as soon as he could. Nothing went right. The day had started so wonderfully… you’d felt like a part of himself he’d finally found. And now….

“You’re mad at me.” He heard the keys hit the bowl. Thank you, he thought. 

Yes. No. Not at you. Not with you. Just, mad. Mad at Brady. Mad at Tommy. Mad at liquor as a general concept. And, the most upsetting, mad at himself. Had he ever been mad at himself before? 

“No.” He sucked in a breath, “I’m mad. Full stop.” He hugged a pillow, he just wanted to be left alone now to wallow in the expanse of these new and awful sensations bleeding into his guts.

He thought it and immediately winced. Not alone alone. Please, if anyone had been listening, please disregard it. That wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t mean that at all.

“You’re acting like a child. Go to your bed. I’ll sleep here.” Your voice was stern, talking down to him. 

“You’re talkin’ to me like a child.” He felt small and stupid. Closing his eyes, he sighed and tried to settle mind. Everything was swimming. Literally. His thoughts and the room were liquid and floating up into the atmosphere. Alastor was confident he would follow them up. 

“You really don’t see the connection between those two things?? Atleast— go to the guest bed.” 

Connection? Yes! You were treating him like a naive child, talking to him like a confused child, pulling him like a disobedient child, holding out your hand to him like he was a selfish child.

“No.” If he opened his eyes he was 90% sure he’d vomit. If he could just bear through the spinning he’d be okay.

“Suit yourself. I don’t have patience for this, Alastor. You’re acting like a brat when I’m the one who had the hard night.” 

He turned his head into the pillow to conceal the frown. 

Patience… there it was. You’d lost patience with him. And you’d been so patient for months now. Waiting in bars and cars while he killed. Waiting for him while he threw body parts into holes and snapping jaws. Waiting for weeks beside him for inspiration to strike and for him to seek your intimacy in more serious touch.

He heard you make it three steps before returning, “And I really don’t appreciate the way you’re treating me. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Alastor’s eyes welled with tears that soaked into the soft yellow pillow. He held his breath until he heard the floor creaking upstairs to let his body shiver with the sob. He’d had you all morning. And he’d kissed you goodbye at work… and then he came to get you. But you were gone. 

He was scared, and angry.

And he got angrier and angrier and now— he couldn’t piece anything together.

Rolling onto his back he held the pillow to his chest. 

Eyes fixed on the ceiling he listened to you prepare for bed. The water ran. The bed groaned. As the liquor took him away the floors creaked again and he hoped maybe you’d come join him on the sofa. Even in silence. Even angry. Just be there so he knew you weren’t done with him entirely. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When Alastor woke he was alone, the sound of the back door shutting startling him into consciousness. The only evidence he had slept and not just shut his eyes for a couple minutes was the light through the curtains. 

For the briefest, sweetest second he felt excited to see you. It was eclipsed near immediately with the nauseating reality that you’d had a fight the night before and you’d told him…. It was hazy. Clenching his eyes shut he searched through the drunken darkness of the night before.

He had to work backwards. You said you’d lost patience. He was treating you poorly. You’d driven him home. He’d thrown his keys at you.

Alastor groaned, feet kicking the end to the sofa in anger. He had tried to make you pick up the keys off the ground, when all you had done was try to take care of him. 

He remembered you tugging him along the sidewalk, before that… you kissed. No, he kissed. He could distinctly remember trying to lick his way into your mouth. On the sidewalk. In front of a very nice restaurant. The yellow pillow was pulled to his face to muffle his scream.

Drinking was the first mistake, continuing to drink was the second. And now you were upset with him.

He was to blame. It was so obvious now. Not just for the arrest and the negative attention but for the entire evening going tits up. 

Throat tightening, a tingle began in his fingertips and worked its way up his wrists. 

Stupid.

Selfish.

Useless.

Throwing the pillow into the chair opposite the sofa he tossed his legs over and sat up. He couldn’t breath, chest heavy. As his lips began to feel like they were stung with tiny needles, he spread his knees and lowered his head between them.

Not now, he yelled at himself, you’re making this about yourself again. Just like last night.

He’d wanted to fix the problems he’d made so badly but stupidly he’d just burdened you further.

There was no future in that moment. All the little daydreams of you and him were suspended and in jeopardy. Until he spoke to you, had the talk you told him was required, he had nothing. 

For all he knew, you’d made up your mind already. How odd. He himself was the cat in the box. He could already be dead and not even know it.

Alastor couldn’t stand another second of not knowing his fate. Lost in the panic he hadn’t considered at all what Brady had said to you. Taking the steps two by two he found the bed empty. Before turning, vaguely remembering hearing the screen door earlier, something caught his eye and made the world spin again with renewed terror.

The handle of your bag peeking out from under the dresser. It had been in the closet, he had emptied it and put it there for you so he knew that to be a fact.

He closed his eyes, bile rising in his throat. Was it full of your things? Were you just waiting to tell him to take you home?

He couldn’t find the courage to check. Rushing past it like it could come to life and grab him by the ankles, he went to the nightstand beside his side of the bed and opened the drawer, the bright yellow of your handkerchief calming him just a sliver. If he kept it, you’d have to come back. He could call you and remind you to come back for it. And then he could convince you to stay. His mother always said he was good with words. If you forgot it at his house when you left he’d have a way to bring you home again. Fresh tears welled, the backs of his hands smearing them into his hairline.

The handkerchief smelled faintly of you still. His bottom lip was sucked between his teeth and the skin picked and pulled. Still carrying the piece of fabric, he leaned over the stairs railing to see you as you sat on the back porch. 

Sitting on the second to last step of the house, he took a moment to collect himself. Being so frazzled, so undone, wasn’t like him. That foreignness just added to the panic. Bringing a hand to his chest, he opened his shirt to run his fingers down his sternum and to the left. A beating heart, evidence he was the survivor in every encounter he’d been in. But now, half a house between your and his back, why did he feel the most in danger? Rarely did fight or flight kick in, the last time he felt it was rolling around with that man who’d tried to choke the life out of you. 

No strange man here now. Just strange feelings. 

The pounding under his fingerprints became sonorous. It was becoming harder to ignore the obvious. 

Deep breaths, he had to prepare his responses. The only way to begin was with an apology, but after that he wasn’t sure where things would go. So he had to make a plan. 

Alastor hoped you’d forgive him, and accept the apology. At which point he would love to imagine himself doing something respectful like kissing your cheeks and thanking you for your mercy. 

If you didn’t accept it….Alastor had never begged a day in his life, but he could see himself begging you to stay. Perhaps hugging your ankles and promising things he didn’t have. There was no longer an impossibility in what he would do, which was alarming. The idea of him being so pathetic and pitiful was nauseating, however there was no one and nothing that could stop that if you got up and left. 

There was no way to run his lines for this. Like many other interactions with you he couldn’t bring the usual tools with him to battle. Either with your wit or point of view, or perhaps today your wrath, you always disarmed him. 

But that was what made you worth the risk. It began as entertainment, but soon enough the dome of your stage extended out and around him, sheltering Alastor in the warm light of your presence. And now as he looked around the railing of his stairs, he was scared to see the exit lights flicker on. 

Walking out the backdoor, he wondered if he would be allowed back in or if the door would lock behind him. 

He knew the exact moment he fucked up, and knew he had to begin there. Barefoot, still in yesterday’s clothes while you were in your night dress, he let himself drop to the space beside you before tentatively bringing his head down to your lap. He avoided eye contact, not yet ready to confront his adjudicator.

The pain in your words from last night were just now beginning to sting his eyes. 

‘Who am I?’

“You are my darling,” It wasn’t until he said it that he realized he hadn’t opened his mouth and spoken yet, his voice was harsh and throat dry. Who were you? It would be easier to list who you weren’t to him now. “That’s who you are.”

No unit of time existed small enough to measure the pause between what he said and your reply, but it felt like a gorge separating his breaths. 

“You sure didn’t make me feel like your anything last tonight.”  He couldn’t remember ever hearing you take such a tone; cutting and cold. Was there no longer warmth in your heart for him? He had been so drunkenly blinded by his own feelings he hadn’t stopped to think about how you were viewing his little tantrum. Maybe he hadn’t ever really had anyone around whose opinion mattered very much.

And he’d made you feel like nothing to him. The mountain of derelictions crumbled under the weight of perhaps his biggest failure of the evening, an avalanche of embarrassment and shame washed over him and he didn’t try to impede his tears. Men were only supposed to cry on their wedding day and at funerals, but he supposed this day could still go either way. Could still be as pivotal to his happiness.

“I know. I’m sorry. I was so,” what word could sum it up?

“Drunk.”

“Enraged.” a high whine caught in his throat, clenching his eyes now as the embarrassment took over stronger than he had thought possible. He felt stupid now saying he was just angry, “And drunk.”

He couldn’t entirely blame the alcohol, but he wouldn’t disagree with you now. 

“And disrespectful.”

Alastor folded in on himself, shoulders drawing in to try and curl up small enough that he ceased to exist in any meaningful way. Disrespectful. He had, he’d disrespected you in public and in private. The stunt with the keys came back and he thought he may just die from the mortification of what he’d done. 

“That too.” His hands nervously wrung the handkerchief beneath his closed thighs. What a terrible morning juxtaposed with the prior day’s bliss. A sigh, soft and weak. He remembered who was the catalyst for his buffoonery. “I want to split his skull with an ax.” 

Argh, it wasn’t about him. “I’m sorry. I— you were not wrong. I didn’t know what to do with myself when your manager said you’d been arrested. I almost drove my car into the station doors.” He was beginning to wish he had.

“So getting zozzled and shouting the personal details of a New Orleans detective into the night seemed… the better option? When I had already had a difficult night?” He flinched at the rising anger in your voice, the rhetoricals were scolding and biting his pride like a nun’s ruler to his knuckles. “When I needed your support? Comfort?”

Perhaps the death blow. All he could do was nod and accept his mistakes. But, it hurt. Not to admit them, but to confront them. Another tidal wave of emotion hit and he had to bury his face back into the cool silk of your nightwear. He couldn’t understand how he had fucked it up so badly. 

No, he had to find words. “I’d never felt so helpless, I just…I responded very selfishly. I’m sorry.” Two words did nothing, they tumbled from his mouth like feathers. Weightless. When the heavy guilt in his chest was threatening to drag him to hell with one misstep, ‘I’m sorry’ was just crystals of salt dropped in the gulf. Actions were all he had left and he wasn’t sure yet you’d give him the time to show you. 

When your fingers grazed his scalp and combed his hair from his ears he shook with relief. A tender touch that promised you didn’t hate him, and his cortisol levels immediately plummeted. He felt safe again, enough to ask what was pestering him still. 

“Will you ever let me kill him?” his lips ghosted over the mercy of your thighs.

As you thought, his fingers ran along the edges of your handkerchief. Feeling the stitched edges with precision as a distraction from the stress of waiting. 

 “When he’s no longer a threat to us. When no one will be shocked to hear he’s dead.” 

No longer a threat… what did that mean? When Brady moved on from you both, or was simply made incapable of doing you harm. He could expedite that, somehow. He was sure of it. 

His arms wrapped around your legs and caressed your thighs through the silk, “He went too far. Turning his head up, he got you into his peripheral. 

“And he knows your name.”

Oh. That … was expediting, wasn’t it? It was bound to happen. 

“I’m beginning to think it doesn’t matter.” He pulled himself closer again. Brady was nothing compared to the threat of losing you. “I’ve never been a bigger failure in all my life than last night. In every way. To myself and to you.” What a joke he was. How high and mighty and curated he tried to be that he forgot the point of it. A shield he turned to you was just a barrier between what he desperately wanted by his side. His tears returned with renewed vigor, the complete breakdown of his manicured image was a tell tale heart he couldn’t smile away anymore, the greatest weakness he was never so happy to call his own. Muffled by your clothing and inviting lap, “I just love you so much…” he choked and then sucked in a deep breath to try and get control of himself, shifting his face to the side again to watch your face for an immediate reaction to his question, “Do you want to leave me?”

He didn’t want the answer. He knew better than to ask. But – if you did, he didn’t want to keep you there. He couldn’t let the moment pass without finding out if you were just putting up with him. If you felt trapped, like Brady promised you that you would. When you told him those things, the silly things the detective had said before, you always laughed. You said it was so ridiculous. But, now, there was nothing funny about the idea. He couldn’t promise himself he wouldn’t keep that little yellow fabric in his hands even after you parted, but he could swear to not try and guilt you back into his arms. 

When you lifted him off of your body by the collar he couldn’t understand the emotion behind it. You were inspecting his face so carefully, but there was no sign of disgust or anger or even adoration to signal how he should feel. The teardrops tickled his cheeks and chin and fell unimpeded to your legs. 

Your eyes kept moving over his features, until a small tug of your lips to the side crept into a smile. Soft and obviously natural.

“Give me a little time. I’ll show you how stupid of a question that is over our first fight,” The pads of your thumbs were soft as they slid down his cheeks and gathered the moisture there. When he pulled the handkerchief to his lap, you took it and used it to further dry his face. He exhaled a broken breath when you took his face in your hands and stared into his eyes. “I never want to leave you.” His body again trembled with relief, blinking away the nth torrent of tears, “Even if I do, even if somehow I’m convinced to go, you’ll have to rip your heart out of my cold dead hands or I’ll take it with me.”

Stop. Don’t say that. “What have I told you? Don’t mention those things.” Death. Leaving. Goodbyes. “The spirits are listening.” They were always listening, watching, hoping to grab a hold of anything you said without precision and deliver you the reality you mused. He didn’t want to lecture, but he couldn’t let it go. Shh, don’t say such things. He could feel the dried tears crack as his eyes crinkled with his smile, a smile that he nearly failed to switch up to return the kiss when you pressed your lips into his. A first fight? He’d never had one of those. Typically he never got that far. Things fell apart the second someone was unhappy or unsatisfied. 

Take his heart back? His mind finally processed the words. It was yours. The morning had proved to him he couldn’t claw it back if he truly wanted, and if he was further honest with himself, he didn’t want it. It was better off with you. He felt the air cooling the once body-warm tears, he whispered what he felt was too vulnerable to say at full volume, “But, it’s not mine anymore. Isn’t that obvious?” His eyes looked down at your feet pointed in towards his own. Was this pathetic display not making it glaringly evident he was a man turned inside out? Guts in his hands and heart in yours?

You sniffled and sat up straight, bringing his attention back to you. 

“If you ever speak to me like you did last night again, with that sharp tone and cruel words, sober or not…” Your words got slower until you stopped, an almost wild look in your eyes he could read as pleading. He shook his own head subtly, unconsciously swearing he wouldn’t. 

If he ever forgot himself and you again, like he had let his rage and weakness do the night before, he didn’t deserve your forgiveness or grace anymore. A woman too good for him.  

Because he couldn’t ever get it back now, “You can take my heart with you.” 

A sickening fact. 

His body was a tool, and he’d use every tool he had available to make you understand what you meant to him. Would you feel different now, now that he knew you loved him? Would he find your body warmer, more inviting… Could he make you scream your love for him?

Later, he would have to bookmark that idea. The confession was too fragile still, a crystal figurine to precious to even take out of the box. 

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment, @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[katiascraft]

“I need to confess. I told you a lie. I said you were the love of my life.” | LN4

part 2 of this.

Parings: Lando Norris x Ex!Bisexual!Reader.

Summary: after leaving Lando, you realized what real love was like. Unfortunately, he didn’t and all he could think about every time he looks at his new parter is you.

Now playing: “L’AMOUR DE MA VIE” by Billie Eilish.

Word count: +2k.

Warnings: angst (?) insults (?) cursed words. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: maybe this sucks. well I don’t know but I just came to this idea for a part 2 no one asked of this but yeah. Reader deserved a happy ending ❤️‍🩹 Don’t forget to like, comment or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

It’s been 10 months since the worst day of your life. The day you had enough of the place that you weren’t enough for. The place who made you so miserable and insecure. The place that broke you in so many pieces it turned you to dust. The place where you never want to go back to.

It’s been the hardest 10 months of your life. Mourning the life you thought you would have forever was the worst process you got yourself through. How you had to not only get over your ex, Lando, but also the you that wasn’t gonna be you anymore for the rest of your life. And that was the hardest past. Let go of who you were when he was in your life and let go of all the memories. It was like learning to be a functioning human being again. And you also thought you couldn’t bear with being single. You felt so ashamed of not remembering how to approach people or even how to feel attractive yourself. You were nothing after that day.

For your family and friends was heartbreaking too. Not only because they had to mourn lando that now was out of your life so then their lives as well, but also the you they knew before and during the relationship. And now learning to know this new you.

It was hard for the first 3 months but thanks to your friends and intense therapy sessions you eventually got better. You started discovering a part of yourself you didn’t know existed. Leaving lando changed you not 180 degrees but 360. You changed your style, your hair, your humor, your attitude. You spoke up. Had a strong opinion. You started being more selective with people and for a long time you remained single. you worked on you. Trying to give yourself back everything that relationship took away. You made new friends and moved to New York to start a new life. In that city you found you loved music and storytelling so you started a musical career on YouTube and became kind of famous. You also went to university. And now you’re a content creator, you upload vlogs of your everyday life and opinions. You love fashion like crazy and post your outfits on Instagram and TikTok along with your music. And you are back into being happy. Not only with your life but with yourself. You love who you are and what you do for a living. There’s no one you have to follow or leave everything behind. You live now in your own world where you are the thing that matters the most. You feel so grateful you made it through.

But you were also madly loved for who you are. Tania was your new girlfriend. You didn’t even know you liked girls as well. You tried with guys but none of them felt right for you until you met Tania in a little music shop two blocks away from your apartment. It was the most romantic way of meeting someone you believed. You two went to the same shop to buy the same album and oh coincidence of life there was only one copy of it. And that’s how you met. She gave it to you and so you offered her to come to your place and listen to it together. Yeah you offered that to a stranger but she looked so beautiful. You felt something so weird you haven’t ever felt before in your life. His blonde hair so shiny and his brown eyes so deep you could drown in them with no problem. She was gorgeous.

In fact, you never felt so seen until you met her. The way she actually listened to what you had to say. The way he understood your insecurities and tried to help you and figure it out together. The way you could laugh for hours non-stop until you went dry from crying of laughter. When you felt how you felt with her you knew Lando didn’t matter at all. He never loved you for who you were. He never appreciated all of the sacrifices you did for him just because you thought you loved him your entire life. The way you listened and supported him anywhere, anyhow, whenever. You gave everything for him, but what about you? He never noticed you. He never saw you. He never cared about you.

Realizing that hurt at first but then you understood it was the wrong person at the wrong time. Because if you hadn’t been through what he put you through then this wouldn’t be your life and you wouldn’t be this loved.

But you know what they say, life’s a bitch so here you were again in Monaco for Alexandra’s birthday. It was gonna be a huge event in a yacht for all of her friends. So of course you knew lando was coming and you also knew because of Alex he had a new girlfriend as well. You weren’t intimidated by him but you felt a little insecure you know. You felt rather uncomfortable. But Alex was your friend and she was so nice she invited Tania as well and few of your hometown friends so you wouldn’t feel left apart. Alex knew you so well. You always have struggled with fitting in. She was really sweet. But at the same time you were also so excited to see the guys again. You talked to Pierre and kika. They were so excited to see you. You missed them all of course you did. Moving countries and having an ex who drives along them made things ticky. It was complicated to meet and hang around outside weekend races during the year and of course you wouldn’t assist knowing lando was there. You didn’t want to see him. So tonight is fireproof. If you see him again and survive then the paddock should get ready to see you every now and then with you gorgeous girl.

She knew about Lando of course. And she was the most supportive angel to you. Of course she also hated him. And probably could kill him if you let her. But she won’t just because you asked her.

you were going by taxi. You didn’t have your car because you were on the other side of the world and you wouldn’t waste money renting one just to go to a party in a yacht. You didn’t care about appearances anymore. You got to the harbor just in time. Most of the invited guests were already there. You got there with Tania in your hand and your group of friends. You looked around seeing so many familiar faces and the first one to run to you and hug you tightly was Kika followed by Pierre. You giggled on her shoulder hugging her as well.

“Oh my god girl you look fucking beautiful what the fuck I missed you so much” she said on your shoulder so excited to see you. It flattered your heart.

“I missed you too, my love” you said sweetly. And when you pulled apart you hugged Pierre and introduced Tania to them. They were always so warm. You really missed them. A few minutes passed and you were talking along with a lot of the formula 1 drivers and their partners just like the old days. You felt so part of it. And so loved. And all of them were so nice to Tania. She was so excited that she met Max and he posed for a picture with her that it melted your heart completely. You didn’t see lando by the way. He hasn't arrived yet. But Carlos didn’t either so probably they were coming together. After 15 minutes, the birthday girl finally arrived with her prince in hand and all of the guests were there. The yacht was ready as well. Lando was there with her. You knew her of course you did. She was friends with Max and Kelly. Of course you remember her. Lando is so predictable. You wanted to laugh in his face but you didn’t. You didn’t even say hi. You didn’t want to and you guess he didn’t either because he barely looks at you when he arrived.

(…)

The party was formidable and you were already drunk laughing and posing. Kika was trying to take a couple of pictures of you and Tania and the sunset behind you. It was a beautiful picture.

“Oh my god you’re so beautiful” she said finally ending the photo shoot so she showed you the pictures.

It felt so satisfying being back and not giving a fuck about Lando. All of the guys were so welcoming and sweet like they always had been with you.

Tania had to go to the bathroom. “You want me to go with you titi?” You called her by her nickname you created. She smiled and gave you a kiss on your lips.

“I’m okay baby. I’ll be right back” she said and after giving you one last kiss she disappeared through all of the people around heading to the bathroom. You stayed with your group of friends dancing around and having fun. Alex was there two sharing with all of us. You loved that woman. She was one of your closest friends who was there with you to hold you and listen. She knew what it was like. But she is loved unlike you weren’t. You were enjoying yourself until you heard someone clearing their throat like exaggerated. You turned to find lando clearly drunk looking at you with puppy eyes yet so dark. You of course didn’t like to see him.

“Y/n we need to talk” he said almost in a whisper so no one could hear him but you. Inside you felt disgusted. His voice was once your favorite sound, one that could send chills down your spine. Now it kinda repulses you.

“No, we don't need Lando. Just pretend I don’t exist” you said clearly upset by his behavior.

“But I can’t y/n. I couldn't stop looking at you since I arrived. I can’t get you out of my head. I tried. But I don’t know what else to do!” He was clearly drunk. And you were unbothered to be honest. You noticed Carlos and Oscar heard him and looked at you. You just rolled your eyes at lando.

“Then it’s not my fucking problem lando. You had me but you couldn’t give a damn about me. Sorry it's too late. I’m happy now and I am loved” you spitted about to turn when he grabbed your arm for you not to go.

“You said I was the love of your life. What happened to that? I know you’re the love of my life. Please, y/n” he said kind of desperately. You looked at him with a poker face. You felt nothing at all. And yes you were surprised but also so proud. Lando Norris meant nothing at all finally. He couldn’t move you. He didn’t have power over you anymore. You won.

“Well then I need to confess I lied. You weren’t the love of my life Lando. You were the motherfucker of my life. You fucking destroyed me. So stop with all of this bullshit” you said Angry. You were saying the truth without being afraid of it. You didn’t care anymore. Now your life is yours and he had no power over it. And you’re fucking happy. You just needed to make sure he knew it. And watch him suffer. And you could see something broke inside of him when he heard you saying that. Fortunately Tania came back from the bathroom just in time.

“Y/n, babe, is everything alright?” She asked, watching lando a little confused but controlling her desires to kill him right there.

You smiled at her. “Yeah beba all good now that you are here” you said, grabbing her by her waist and kissing her gently. She grabbed your face a little surprised at first. But she couldn’t say no to your lips. She was addicted. you didn’t care lando was there. You just kissed and turned to your group of friends ignoring that he was the guy you loved just like he did when he was with you.

[katsu2ji]

hanta sero w/ pop princess gf!

a/n: you will have to pry sabrina carpenter's short n sweet album from my cold, dead hands and this is the result of that

YOUR BIGGEST FAN

if anyone tells you otherwise, they're lying to you because this man right here? oh you have him down BADDD

he's there at every single concert, whether it be front row or back stage

wears his "i <3 my gf" shirt with PRIDE!!

you wink at him in the crowd and he's giggling and kicking his feet falling to his knees JAKJBABJ

literally brags to all of your guys’ friends that he heard your album and songs first

SOOO many photos of you guys (mainly him, let’s be fr) looking at each other with lovesick expressions

especially on the red carpet—ohmygod you have this man wrapped around your finger it's insane (PLEASE someone tell me they see what i did there—)

speaking of such events!!!

you guys EAT UP the red carpet. every. time.

cause my god does that man look good in a suit.

and your outfits are ALWAYS on point omg!!!

literally you guys are trending on twitter after every single event because y'all are HOT HOT HOT

your hype man while you record!!! at first he was super nervous to be in there, because he didn't want to make you mess up or do something wrong

but now if he's free on the days you go into the studio TRUST he will be there!!!

jokes around that you should let him have adlibs or do backup vocals LMFAO (he's not expecting you to say yes...unless u wanna say yes...)

but in all seriousness: he might know nothing about music, but it's good to have him around when you get frustrated or upset while recording. he helps to remind you that things don't have to be so serious and, at the end of the day, it will come together!!!

now, when you post pictures of yourself, whether they be from official shoots or pics you took yourself, that man is a FIEND.

all up in your comments like "AWOOGA" and "u got a bf??" and "HOTTT" LMFAO HES A MESS

i'm talking comment spamming, story reposts, the whole nine yards

does not gaf if people see him drooling over you!!!! he proudly let's everyone see how obsessed with u he is HE DOES NOT GAF!!!!

he has perfected taking ur pics—he knows all the angles you like, the lighting, everything

he's on the ground fully laying down just to make sure he's getting the perfect angle for you JKASKDFJ

tbh y'all are just the cutest couple ever <33 everyone is either obsessed with you guys or they're mad cause they aren't LOL LOSERS!!!!

katsu2ji © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.