#holly the fallen angel answers

[holly-the-fallen-angel]

*Holly sat in the hotel, [insert something she'd do here, I dint know much about her sorgy] when a sinner emerged into the lobby. Alastor had briefly talked about a new patron in the hotel, but he looked almost annoyed as he can recall. She didn't push him to explain the person a bit more since he was off to see Rosie, leaving only her and the new patron alone in the lobby*

@vexter-the-comedian :3

Holly was sitting on one of the many couches in the hotel lobby listening to music. When she saw the new sinner, the 8 foot tall fallen angel spider like demon walked over. "Hello, you must be the new patron Alastor mentioned, is that right? I'm Holly, the therapist here at the Hazbin Hotel who are you?"

[justanamesstuff]

The intimacy of being understood

Chapter 1

Matty Healy x f!reader

A/N: I'm so excited and SO terrified about posting this fic. I've fallen for this concept since the first moment I thought about it, I've been having so many feelings writing this sooooo I really hope you guys like it! Let me know what you think, feedback is ALWAYS welcomed!! Happy reading, guys :))

Warnings: breakups, fame, hurt feelings, typos.

Word count: 2 k

Blog Masterlist Series Masterlist

After a quick lunch, eaten at the back surrounded by boxes full of books ready to be sorted out, Kate stumbled in. She was Y/n's friend since kindergarten: one day she pushed some kid –Y/n didn’t remember him– who made her cried and Kate pushed him out of a little chair. Small Kate turned around, offering her tiny hand, and Y/n stopped crying. Nothing came between them since, maintaining a very strong friendship. 

Kate didn’t work at the bookshop with Y/n, she didn’t have the money to pay someone else to help her. She did good money enough to maintain the place and rent a small flat not far away from the shop. Even though, Kate constantly showed up wanting to spend time with her, sharing the latest gossip of her office or ramble about one of her ex-girlfriends she bumped into while helping her with the books.

“She looked amazing- Holly fuck!” Kate’s tone drifted from a normal one to a gasped whisper, interrupting herself. 

Y/n looked firstly to the front door, leaving the spreadsheet on the counter; checking if someone was happening outside. She couldn’t see anything through the window. 

She decided to ask Kate, “What?” 

“Look.” it was very rare hearing Kate whisper, she was all out, a true extrovert. Her friend’s finger pointed to the other side from the door.

Y/n turned her head, still hearing the sound of the angel caller she hanged in the entrance as a bell for when a new customer entered the shop. Her eyes finally fell on a very familiar man. 

“I’m looking, but I don’t see anything weird.” Y/n copied her tone, looking how Matty roamed through the different categories. She felt strange about him not greeting her as usual. Y/n reassured herself, ‘it must be a reason’. Her eyer returned to Kate.

“Shhh.” Kate startled her best friend with the sound when nothing really happened. Y/n glanced at her as if a new eye showed up in the middle of her forehead. 

“What’s wrong with you today?” Y/n inquired. “Sorry, but I’m not following you.” she sentenced.

Kate checked Matty was turned to point a finger in his direction. “That one…” she turned her head like a mad woman. “That’s Matty Healy!” Y/n’s friend said with a hissing voice.

Y/n was so confused, “Do you know him?” maybe he was a coworker, that happened many times before. 

“Oh my god!” Kate let his arm fell, rubbing her face dramatically. “I forget how out of this world you are.” she glanced towards the floor as if she was trying to look for answers.

“Still not having a clue over this.” Y/n let eyes returned to the paper work she needed to get done.

“Matty Healy doesn’t ring a bell inside this mind of yours?” Kate tapped her left temple. 

Y/n brushed her off, trying to think about it, even when the full name didn’t bring a bell. 

“Name plus surname no. Matty comes here all the time.” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

Kate stared, trying to decide if she was messing with her or not. “You’re full of shit.”

“No, I’m not. He’s really nice.” Y/n turned the page, writing numbers here and there. 

Matty was indeed a very regular, he had been for more than a month by that moment. Y/n fell quickly into conversations with him when he dropped by. She didn’t give the casual friendship too much thought until that moment.

“Oh, really?” Kate folded her arms, smirking with Y/n’s words. “How nice?”

Y/n couldn’t believe what she was implying, so her sight flew to her friend's face, being the one to search signals that told her she was kidding. Kate wasn’t, she really wanted to know.

“No like that!” the bookshop owner moved forward and beyond Kate’s body to check he wasn’t hearing their conversation. Y/n sighed loud watching him so far from them. 

“Mmm…don’t believe you.” Kate kept pushing her to talk, only gaining a red tint showing on Y/n’s cheeks.

“He started coming here like a few months ago. He looked stressed as fuck…he excused himself saying someone was following him, I’d thought he was talking about a mugger not- whatever he has…fans? I don’t even know.“ Y/n explained.

Kate nodded. “Crazy fans.”

“Well, he stayed a lot over the back of the shop and after- I don’t remember how long… he came back carrying a children's book. I think it was ‘The very hungry caterpillar’, and I got excited over it.” Y/n tried to avoid her friend’s eyes at all cost.

“Of course…” Kate’s voice full of irony. 

“He was buying it for his godson and since then he started showing up here and there…he never explained what he does for a living, I don’t even care.” Y/n admitted.

Kate let her hands fell on top of her chest. “Such a cute story”

“I can’t believe he’s famous.” 

“Yeah, you live under a rock.”

“No, I live inside the real world.”

“Liar.” Kate accused her. “You have your nose inside a book every time I open that door.” she pointed to the front door. 

Y/n gasped and turned, saying, “Aren’t you supposed to help me arrange the new saga?” 

Kate groaned loud. Y/n felt Matty looking their way, but didn’t dare to make eye contact. 

“Why I offered my free time again?” her friend asked.

“You own me! Remember how I had to pick your ass at 4 am at that Soho party you chose to tried to get in and got kicked out?” Y/n felt good teasing her back for once. 

“Thanks for reminding me that.” Kate eyes’ returned to Matty, who moved to sit at the big sofas adoring the centre of the shop. “I’ll go to the back. Shout when he comes over here.” she begged.

Y/n boobed her head up and down in a dramatic way, pursing her lips at the same time. 

“Mhm, definitely going to do that. Be sure I’ll do exactly that.” Y/n spoke to Kate’s back walking away. 

“I need to see if he’s really handsome indeed.” she whispered from the door leading to the storage room. 

“He is.” Y/n added just to mock her.

“Agh, you’re so mean!”

“Work, now!”

Y/n waited until Grace was far away to focus on Matty. He was still sitting on the sofa, now with a book on his lap but looking at the ceiling. She decided it was a good moment to approach him.

“Hey.” 

Matty got startled a little, too deep into his thoughts to acknowledge the sound of her feet approaching him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to…” Y/n felt sorry to scare him.

A big smile showed up in his face, changing all his demeanour. “Hey there. Don’t worry.”

“I couldn’t stop to notice- I mean, maybe you want a moment of quiet, and I’m disturbing you but…sorry.” Y/n grew self-conscious under his attentive eyes. “What I’m trying to ask is, are you alright?” 

Matty felt his heart skip a bit, “You’re the first person to ask me today.”

Y/n frowned, checking her clock. “It’s 3 pm.” she stated.

“I know.”

“So I assume this is not your best day.”

“Not at all.” he said, still smiling, contradicting his own words somehow.

 Y/n decided to change the subject.“What book you chose?” she pointed to the book resting unread. 

“Everything quiet at the front.” Matty read the title. 

“Uplifting I see..” she joked, and Matty laughed. The sound reached her ears and warmed her heart. 

“‘m sorry I didn’t say hello earlier.” Matty apologized. “Didn’t want to interrupt your conversation with the other girl.” his hand pointed towards the front desk.

“She’s my best friend and personal nightmare…Kate.” 

“Where’s she now?”

“At the back, she owns me a few favors so…”

“Mhm.”

“Well, I’m going to stop bothering-“ Y/n started excusing herself.

Matty interrupted, clarifying, “You never bother me, Y/n.” Her name coming from his lips felt different. 

“Good to know.” her cheeks were burning. Y/n turned around towards her desk but desist in the middle of the action. “Can I suggest you changing the book?” she asked, looking inside her tired eyes.

Matty gave her a signal, adding, “Which one you say is better?” 

“It’s a play in fact…’The Seagull’ by Chéjov. It’s also sad but easier to read, I think.” 

“Interesting.” Y/n felt maybe she should’ve kept her mouth shut. “I have to go now, sadly, but I’ll be back soon to read it.” Matty told her.

“I can pack it for you. Have one over he-“ Y/n’s mood lifted a little with the last part, proposing packeting it for him, although she interrupted her again. 

“No, I prefer reading it here the next time I come.” 

“Okay, suit yourself, Matty.” Y/n looked down, not really knowing what to do now. 

“I’ll see you soon, thanks. Say hi to Kate for me.” Matty scratched the back of his head. 

“Oh, that nice…for sure, I’m going to retransmit that.”

“Bye.” Matty lift his hand, waving at her from a few meters far from her.

Y/n followed his form, walked towards the door, and once outside get lost between the people coming and going. 

Kate showed up from behind the storage door, smiling wide at her friend. 

“If I wasn’t so stoked about one of my favourite singer of all times knowing… remotely… who I am, I’ll say that man is sad but down bad for the library girl.” she wiggled her eyebrows. 

“Stop bluffing and celebrate a little.” Y/n tried to distract Kate. 

“Y/n…”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

They had that conversations for months, almost a fucking year, and Y/n knew it as if was a play she wrote. Kate would insist about her dating again, she would say she’s not ready –which was the truth– and her best friend would be sympathetic about it even though she would keep insisting. 

“I saw pictures of that man in love…I know, a bit, how he is.” Kate tried to persuade Y/n. 

“Kate, you really don’t know him. I don’t know him far from Matty, the guy that comes here from time to time.”

“Do you want to know more about him?” she took her phone out.

“No.I don’t. I respect his privacy.” Y/n was pushing her away, closing herself. Both friends knew that. 

“You can’t wound me with this.”

“Fine.”

“Come on! Forget he's fucking famous…he's fucking hot, and he wants you-“ 

Y/n closed her eyes tight, “You don’t-“

“He does. I feel it.”

“Why you have to sexualize this?”

“Because it what he exudes, my love.” Kate placed herself at the other side of the front desk, where Y/n was trying to look busy with books and papers. 

“I don’t want to hear anything else, okay?” Y/n stared at her eyes briefly. 

“Y/n…I know that what you’ve been through is a lot to recover your heart from, but you know he’d want-“ the mention of his wishes angered Y/n, who pushed a book down with too much force. 

“No, I don’t. He never spoked about it because we were meant to spend the rest of our lives together, and then…” Y/n felt tears pooling in the corner of her eyes.

“Oh, my love…” Kate ran around the counter. “Come here.” she hugged her friend. “I’m here, I’m here. I’m sorry.”

“I can’t do it.” Y/n said into her shoulder.

“Okay, okay. I understand. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s too soon.”

“Mmm…it’s never too soon to have a new, famous and hot friend.” Kate tried to lift her mood.

Y/n snorted, “He’s hot.” there was no reason to deny it. 

“Right?! That’s a start! Baby steps…come on, girl! You can do this.” Kate took Y/n’s face between her hands, staring into her red eyes.

“Let’s get back to work, please.”

“Would you take me as an employee if I quit my job?”

Y/n titled her head, “You love your job.”

“But I’d love to see Matty's butt flying around.” 

“Could you stop sexualizing my customers, please?”

“No when they’re Matty fucking Healy!” she shouted while returning to the back.

*****************

Taglist (let me know if you want to be included): @indierockgirrl

[midnightfire830]

Smol ask, can u draw Holly's design in the Villains Au? Or just a little itty bitty mini sketches? I wanna see her more :]

And, uh, Alice too? Also i wanna know more about 'em:))

Day 13: Problem

Sorry for the late response! I honestly struggle with drawing women! 😅

I made this AU before I finished the labyrinth so Villain!holly is pretty much Mayhem.

So! After being expelled from Yen Sid academy for looking through private records and having her name practically scorned by the public, being fired by her job, and living practically homeless, Holly decided that she would start her own business of secrets.

She set up an interconnected network of information running through the majority of organizations, businesses, and government branches of the US through spies and favors. She runs her business finding and selling secrets. Blackmailing the rich, trading favors and secrets, manipulating the people who have things they don’t want to come to light to the public. She got the journalist whole publicly shamed her, Jeremy Fairfax, fired. And sued Yen Sid.

She and Bendy are good acquaintances, both work in similar fields and work quite well together as work partners, so Holly got on the quest because her knowledge in runes, ancient history, and literally everything had Bendy go to her for a little help. She became invested and fascinated by the quest and joined as an official member.

The questers then of course got the cog and Holly got possessed by it. The questers managed to restrict the cog’s powers and allow her to remain tied but still in control while using the cog to boost her abilities a bit to help with her rune magic so she can do more for the quest. And it allows Holly to study the parts a little better too.

(Also sorry I don’t have too much time to draw Villain Alice (AKA I’m scared to attempt to draw another woman and its 1:30 AM and Art block is creeping up on meeee TwT) So I’ll tell you her backstory bc I don’t think I ever shared it!

Now Alice is a bit more of a heartbreaking story. She was an innocent angel who went to the surface for her act of charity. In staying on the surface she fell for a demon. When the upper found out about her love for the demon they rejected her and she either fell or ran away from the Upper to live her life with the demon. I haven’t decided which outcome I’m going to do for her. But if i go with the first the demon she fell in love with was Bendy and she’s still in love with him. If I go with the second option the demon was either bendy or a random demon that we never know. Either way she runs away if it’s the demon we don’t know, then the demon breaks her heart and leaves her for dead. If it’s bendy he either leaves her and she’s really bitter about it or they’re still in love.

From there she begins to take a huge hold of the black market (you know, the ones that took her to the dark circus?) and starts running things her way. OR She starts some kind of rebellion against the Upper with other fallen angels. I haven’t decided.

Enjoy the doodly sketch! And I hope this answers your ask! Thanks!

[mcgnagallsarmy]

Top 10 Spuffy fics I’ve read (March 2023)

Bleeding Poetry by Dusty [PG-13]

All his life, the words just bled out.

Boon by Soulburnt [R]

Buffy has been an amazingly effective Slayer.  To honor that, the Powers That Be grant her a one-time boon.  The only catch?  Her friends get to pick it for her.

Brick by pfeifferpack [G]

At the end of S7 Lies My Parents Told Me I would like to have Buffy lying on her bed thinking of every time Giles has let her down, betrayed her. Late in the night, after everyone has fallen asleep, she makes her way down to the basement to talk to Spike because she can’t keep the anger and hurt she is feeling to herself. While talking with the vampire, she comes to another realization: that Spike is the only one she can vent to and she can count on no matter what.

Domino Effect by anaross [PG-13]

AU after End of Days. A re-write of the events after the episode of End of Days.

First Alternate by Soulburnt [NC-17]

After ‘Not Fade Away,’ Angel gets the Shanshu.  A thrilled Buffy gets her curse-free soulmate.  And Spike?  He gets his heart shattered again. Gutted and seeing no point in staying in a world without his Slayer, Spike doesn’t hesitate when pursuing a deadly demon through a portal.  He finds himself stuck in an alternate reality where he truly died closing the Hellmouth.  He also finds another Buffy, one who is devastated that her Spike didn’t believe she loved him.  They console each other over their losses… but are they only consolation prizes?  Or can two heartbroken people get a second chance for love?

His Lady Dancing by violettathepiratequeen [PG-13]

Buffy makes a wish on a Christmas star, and Spike chooses that moment to waltz into her backyard. Could he somehow be the answer?

Only Time Will Tell by Grief Counseling [NC-17]

Buffy, Giles, and the rest of the Scoobies are living in London a year after the collapse of the Hellmouth. They are faced with an interesting mission to save the world: they must retrieve an artifact that was destroyed over a hundred years ago. The catch? Buffy must travel back in time to the exact location where Spike lived before he was turned to obtain the artifact. The pain of seeing him again after losing him, even in human form, might prove to be too much. Or it might be exactly what a grieving slayer needs.

Rendezvous by Eurydice [PG-13]

When Giles retrieves the amulet from the collapsed Hellmouth, he encounters the last person he ever would have imagined - a young boy who looks remarkably like a now-dead vampire.

Slayer Bound by Holly [NC-17]

A glimpse of eternal hell gives Spike some much-needed perspective.

The Worst Day Since Yesterday by Dynamite [NC-17]

After Los Angeles falls only one vampire is left standing. Will Buffy make it in time?

[sissytobitch10seconds]

The Devil's Dog

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Summary: Lucifer needs everything to be absolutely perfect so that he can prove how much he adores his daughter to her. Michael is determined to make that happen, as well as to keep his beloved Star safe. Warnings: Jealousy, mentions of past abusive relationships, and anxiety Word Count: 4,877 Ship(s): Lucifer Morningstar/Michael

Archive link!

A/N: Okay, I know that there's some comic out there or a popular headcanon that Michael and Lucifer are brothers or twins or something, but they're not here. We've never met Michael in the show and as far as I'm concerned, that's the only canon since I don't think a piece of media should be a scavenger hunt unless it's an ARG. All of the angels are kind of like the Gods in Percy Jackson, where they don't have DNA so they can't really be incestuous with each other. Now that's cleared up, I hope that you can all enjoy this fic! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

Michael had always enjoyed watching Lucifer work. While he himself was not a Seraphim, he had been at the same rank as them and thus had lived in the same bunk house as them when he was in Heaven. Being the Sword of God meant that he trained the armies of Heaven and sometimes, when he had gotten injured from that training, he would be allowed to lay in Lucifer’s room and simply watch as he made plans for the new animals and humans and plants that they would be putting on earth. Eden was the place where they tested it all, a palace that he had only been down to once to make sure that it was safe for Adam and Lilith to inhabit. 

A lot had changed since that time, but the love he had for Lucifer had never once wavered. He was still permitted to sit and watch him work when he was making plans for something that would improve Hell. This was a little less relaxing than that would have been as Lucifer was throwing a ball for Charlie’s official debut into society. It was a little old fashioned, but the Sins had wanted an excuse to get together and Lucifer had decided that his daughter deserved a chance to be appreciated like how she deserved.

Lucifer was currently fluttering all over the palace as he tried to get everything exactly where it needed to be. There were massive boughs of holly, elderberry, and hyacinth strung from the ceiling. Lucifer had given some absurd meaning about them from a culture that had been long forgotten, but Michael just thought that there were pretty. Between each of the flower arrangments was a string of multi colored ribbons that formed bows and sweeping strings down to the floor around them, like an imitation of a maypole. Floating multicolored, gently scented, candles made up the light of the room, most of them concentrated around the massive buffet table and bar.

“Star, everything is wonderful,” Michael said softly, hoping that his voice would reach far enough that Lucifer would hear it while he was near the vaulted ceiling.

“Wonderful isn’t good enough, I need it to be perfect,” Lucifer huffed as he fluttered back down to the ground beside Michael. Naturally, they fell into each other as if they hadn’t been separated by a war and ten thousand years. Michael placed his arm around Lucifer’s waist and tugged him closer, which made the king of Hell place his head back against the fallen angel’s shoulder and pectoral.

“Why?” Michael asked. It was something he had often poked Lucifer about when they were in Heaven, something he had never really gotten an answer on back then. He was hoping that he’d finally be able to pry the answer from his partner, seeing as they were now far away from Heaven and could properly speak their minds about the things that they felt and opinions that they had.

“Because it’s for Charlie!” Lucifer replied, widening his arms as he looked at all of the decorations.

“Exactly, starlight,” Michael whispered. He brushed his fingers over the side of Lucifer’s face, which quelled some of the anxiety that was brushing just beneath the surface. The fallen angel was so glad that he got to do this again. They had stolen moments with each other back when they were in Heaven, but it was nothing compared to being able to show his affection for his husband out in the open. He didn’t have to stare at the walls to make sure that the all-seeing eyes of their Heavenly Father had gone, nor did he have to listen for the footsteps of their fellow angels. He just had to love Lucifer and be loved back in return, something that was very easy once he had learned how to let himself go properly.

He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to Lucifer’s lips, which successfully got his attention all the way away from the decorations and just onto Michael. He let his hands slide down and around Lucifer’s waist, keeping the king close to his body as he whispered the rest of his reassurance. “This party is for Charlie, your daughter who loves you very much. She believes in second chances for everyone, and that includes the father that she was taken away from. She’s going to love that you did this for her not because of how gilded the flowers were or how beautiful the tapestries are, but because she could see that you put time and effort into something for her. She loves you, nothing will change that. Especially not something as small as a flower not being in just the right position in a bouquet.”

Lucifer tensed at that, his brilliantly beautiful eyes flipping around the flower arrangements as he tried to figure out what Michael was talking about. The angel rolled his eyes and kissed Lucifer’s cheek before he let the smaller man go. It was useless trying to distract him from a task at this point, so Michael would simply make sure that he remained calm while he worked and didn’t overdo it. 

He walked over to the seats that were gathered around the little tables near the walls. The flower in the empty vase was drooping slightly, so he brushed his fingers over it and watched it perk back up. He no longer had the abilities that he had once wielded, back when he was the Sword of God and on the native soil of Heaven, but he had retained some of them. He was discovering more of who he was now that he was in Hell with his beloved. That meant that his abilities were also changing and shifting as his natural magic tried to find something to channel into that wasn’t killing or beating down the enemies of Heaven. It was nice, he liked being able to bring life to things instead of just taking it away.

Ten minutes of fussing later, Lucifer finally walked over to him. He bent down, one of his gloved hands resting on Michael’s cheek so that he could tilt the other man’s face upwards. He brought their lips together in a sweet kiss, leaving them both smiling like they were human teenagers that were just beginning to figure out the depth of emotions that they could feel. “Thank you for trying to reassure me and calm me down. I know that I’ve been rather over-the-top about this whole party. It’s just very important to me that Charlie can see the effort I’ve put into all of this for her.”

“I’m sure that she can. It doesn’t have to be perfect for her to understand the effort that you’ve given her,” Michael said. “I think that Perfection is a lie that God told to us so that He could make us more desperate for His validation. Think about it, if we thought that every action that we did had some unattainable standard of perfection that it could achieve then we were going to stay dependant and work harder for Him in return for nothing or less.”

Lucifer sat down on the other side of the table, reaching his hand across so that they could thread their fingers together. “I get what you mean. It took a lot for me to be able to understand that not everything I did had to be perfect and people could understand that I was flawed without damaging my pride. It was hard to go from being under the rule of someone that said that they were perfect in every way and had planned out the entire universe within an inch of perfection to being the ruler of a land that was ungoverned when I arrived.”

Michael was surprised that his lover was speaking about the Fall. They had talked about it a little bit, mostly just in reference to the love that they had shared before it had happened and the betrayal that Michael had felt about not having his partner by his side anymore. No one in Heaven had spoken about the Fall outside of warning each other that if they kept up with bad behavior then they would end up like the Morningstar. It had made him so angry to hear about the slander for his lover in the beginning, convinced that Lucifer had simply pushed the rules and was being punished for it like Michael had in the past. The longer that time went on, though, the more he began to think that perhaps Lucifer had left without telling anyone, including his lover, simply because he was selfish and bored. That was before he had realized what a cruel and uncaring parent God was, before he had begun to rebel himself, and long before he had fallen and reunited with his lover.

“The things we do don’t have to be perfect, we just have to try our best,” Michael said. It was something that he and Lucifer repeated often to each other, trying to deprogram the other from the things that they were taught while they were in Heaven. Michael wasn’t quite sure what Lilith had done when she was married to Lucifer, but it was clear that she hadn’t put in nearly the effort that Michael was when it came to helping Lucifer out of his depressive episodes and anxiety spirals.

“I tried my best for this party and that means that it’s going to be good,” Lucifer nodded. His red cheeks flushed even darker when the door opened and he realized that they were still holding hands. Their relationship wasn’t a secret, but they had kept it on the down-low since neither of them wanted to deal with the tabloids and news programs speculating on something that they knew nothing about.

Charlie was the person that was entering the room, the door staying open long enough so that the servants that had been assisting with set up could leave. She beamed at her father and his partner, nearly skipping across the floor and over to the table. “Hey, Dad! I was just coming by to see how everything was going.”

Michael turned and watched his partner interact with the princess of Hell. Lucifer’s smile widened when he got to the table, his eyes softening with true excitement and love. He stood and took her hand as he began to gesticulate with the other one, “We’ve got the decorations finished, so the only thing that we’re waiting for is guests and the girl of honor to actually get dressed.”

She giggled when he poked her cheek, something that he had likely been doing since she was very small. She hugged him, “Thank you for doing all of this for me, Dad. I always dreamed of getting something like this. Mom used to talk about the formal events that you held with the rest of the Sins and Overlords.”

“Things like this were far more common back when the mortals held balls and gatherings. It was important to us to make sure that they felt welcome since they were going to be controlling some of the land that we were connected to, but it was also fun. It’s been a long time since we’ve had something like this and I think that it’s time we bring it back. What better cause to bring it back for than my darling girl?” Lucifer beamed.

She blushed and shuffled her feet shyly, as if she wasn’t used to her father constantly telling her how much he loved her and how proud she made him. “I’m going to go get ready if you don’t need my help,” she said. She seemed to both want to stay in the situation and get out of it, something that Michael related to a lot since he had become so close to Lucifer.

“Remember to let me see you before you go in to the ballroom, I don’t want to cry in front of too many people,” Lucifer teased as he shooed her away. Charlie laughed as she went, hurrying on her way. When she got to the door, she turned and gave them another chipper wave before they were left alone again. 

Lucifer let out a little sigh when the door clicked shut and then turned to his partner. “I know that she’s already been acting like she’s an adult for years at this point, but I feel like I’m giving her into the world already,” he ran a hand through his hair.

Michael moved to his side, brushing the cowlick he had disturbed back down into the place where it belonged. “You kind of are. That’s the whole point of having a debut ball,” he shrugged. “I never spent a lot of time in the places on Earth where they were common, but Heaven took the idea and used it for when the angels had finished getting their training. It’s been hard for me to remember that things will stay the same between us and her when this is all over, I keep thinking that she’s going to go to whatever job God has assigned her and then we’ll never see her again.”

“Did that happen with a lot of the angels that you were training?” Lucifer asked. He reached down and took his partner’s hand, threading their fingers together so that he could lead Michael through the palace. They walked through the mostly empty halls all the way to the bedroom, chatting with each other about what had happened in Heaven and how they were both dealing with it. It was nice to be able to get those things off of his chest, especially when he knew that the memory of that conversation was going to live within someone that he cherished so deeply.

They were also changing their clothing so that they could go and greet the guests that were coming to honor Charlie. Lucifer was in a dark black and red suit, the laps and vest that he was wearing the same brocade fabric that was interlaced with the pattern of embroidered golden roses. His crown shown brightly on his head, the serpent wrapped around the branch of a tree that had leaves and the buds of apples poking out of his near-white hair. His wings were out as well, large feathered appendages that had turned from the white and blue pastels to a deep golden and red.

Michael himself wore something that was far more subdued than his partner, though it was still fancy enough that he wouldn’t get mistaken for a member of the staff despite him looking nothing like an imp. He had chosen a midnight blue color with accents in the same blood red as his partner, the pocket square made of the same fabric as Lucifer’s vest. On his hip was the sword that he had fallen with when he tumbled from heaven, his handprint carved into the hilt of the weapon.

“Are we ready for this?” Michael asked, wrapping his arms around his partner’s waist.

Lucifer hummed happily and turned so that he could get another kiss. “It’s not about us, it’s about Charlie. I wish that Lilith could be here to see something so important in her daughter’s life, though. Charlie loves her mother so much and I know it would mean the world to her for Lilith to be present tonight,” he pouted.

The fallen angel felt something feral and angry pop up inside of him. He had been standing beside the High Seraphim when the alleged Queen of Hell had arrived at the Pearly Gates, a contract in hand and a sly idea on her manipulative lips. She had promised her citizens that she loved them and lifted them with her siren song, only to damn them all to an undeath at the hands of angelic steal. He, of course, knew that it would simply wipe their memories, have them retried based on the actions they had done while staying in Hell, and some had even been permitted into Heaven. Lilith hadn’t know that, though, she had been under the impression that it killed sinners and disbanded their souls, dooming them to nothingness.

“I’m glad that she’s not here. She’d make the entire thing about her when it’s supposed to be about Charlie,” Michael argued.

“Weren’t you just doing the same thing, my love?” Lucifer raised a single brow at his partner. It was hard to get his feelings across when it came to his ex-wife, Michael knew that. He didn’t understand what their relationship had been like before he arrived but he knew that Lucifer had loved her very dearly, so he tried not to speak ill of the First Woman very often.

“I was asking if we were ready to see her spread her wings so officially in the privacy of our own bedroom. I wasn’t prancing around the ballroom while gloating about how wonderful of a mother I was the way that she would,” he grumbled. He took a step back from Lucifer and then took a deep breath to settle that monstrous party of him back down where it belonged. “It doesn’t matter though, because she’s not here and we are. It’s our job to make sure that Charlie feels special and well taken care of in her place, right?”

“Right,” Lucifer nodded. That broken part of him had come back up at the mention of Lilith and Michael wanted to kiss it away. He settled for offering his arm out to Lucifer, the one on the other side of his sword and scabbard. 

The king smiled softly at him and then took the offered appendage so that they could head back through those long hallways and empty rooms to the ballroom they had prepared for Charlie. The servants had finished with the food and all the plants had new water in the vases and bowls that they were sitting in, making them perk up. “I think that this is going to go swimmingly,” Lucifer said confidently.

When Michael had first arrived in Hell, after he had recovered from the lack of wings and the injuries that he had sustained when he fell, he had realized how much Lucifer had changed. He had always been bright eyed and excited when it came to the ideas that he dreamed up while not working, but something inside of him had dimmed so much in the time that they had spent apart. Michael had made it his goal to try and bring that light back by encouraging Lucifer that his dreams would work and even if they didn’t, it didn’t reflect anything back on him like Heaven had said it was. Pride swelled in his chest as he realized that he had already helped his partner so much in the smallest of ways.

He felt giddy on the sin that he would have been punished for feeling if he were in Heaven as he walked the room with Lucifer. They stopped when the door opened and Charlie bounced over to them. She had also been doing a lot better now that she had gotten out of an unsupportive relationship and her father was encouraging her dreams concerning the hotel that she was running to try and redeem sinners. He could see the light and joy on her face as her rosy cheeks were left natural, not hidden behind the makeup that so many people had suggested.

She was wearing a dark violet gown, the color complimenting the pale blond of her hair that was done in a series of elaborate crown braids. Her tiara was perched behind the braids, accentuating her status as a princess and drawing attention to the fact that the party was for her. The gown brushed the floor when she shifted, a full skirt that extended from where the bodice ended at her natural waistline. The bodice itself was corset laced in the front with little pink rosettes with every cross. The sleeves were tight to her arm until mid forearm, where they flared out into lacy puffs that trailed all the way down to her wrists. 

“You look absolutely wonderful, my dear!” Lucifer beamed when he saw her. “I know that you’ve been grown for quite some time, but this is really accentuating that point for me.”

“Dad,” Charlie rolled her eyes the way that all children did when their parents were being overbearing. Still, she stepped forward and then wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you for helping me make the societal transition into being an adult. It’s nice to have a moment that actually confirms the way that I’ve been feeling for a while. Like a physical change, I guess.”

“I understand. That’s the entire point of these kinds of things,” Lucifer smiled back. His eyes were already watering, so they both separated and then began to fuss around the room while they waited for the arrival of their guests. 

It didn’t take long for the grand doors to open and a servant to announce the arrival of the people they had invited. Several of them were powerful Overlords, a court of Sinners within the hierarchy of Hell. The Sins were all also in attendance since one day Charlie would be taking over Lucifer’s ring, leaving him as the King of Hell and nothing more. She might one day also take over the kingdom, but it was unlikely that Lucifer would ever step down from that position and retire officially. The last people to arrive were the hoards of Goetia, all of them peacocking around the room while chatting loudly with one another.

Michael felt awkward standing near his partner while observing all of the people. Each of the groups acted so differently than the ones in Heaven and even each other. The Overlords were staring at each other and some of them were even having arguments, so it was clear that this was a way for them to garner more power from each other rather than just a party. The Goetia were using it as a way to show off their wealth and try to marry their children to each other. The Sins seemed to just enjoy being near each other and getting to talk with some of their friends.

He was relieved when Lucifer kept checking behind him to make sure that Michael was nearby. With the massive size of the ballroom, he had expected it to look as though there were only a couple of people, making it easier to walk around and not get lost. He had been proven wrong, since there was apparently a lot more noble-adjacent beings in Hell than there had been in Heaven. Lucifer was doing a good job keeping them together, likely because his lover knew the protective way that Michael would almost hunt him down when he felt like something might go wrong.

They talked with guests and made sure that everyone was getting along. It was easy with the Sins and Goetia because they knew to behave themselves in front of their king. The Goetia were powerful demons, but they were still Hellborn and could still be killed. The Sins knew that if they didn’t listen to Lucifer then they would have their power stripped from him because while he shared a title with them, he had extra ones to back up the massive swaths of magic he could control.

Eventually they made it over to some of the overlords that appeared to be arguing with each other. Lucifer and Michael stopped a few yards away from the trio as they listened to what was going on. There was a very tall man with a wide-brimmed hat and a cloak, colored in black and vibrant green. Next to him was a woman with long white hair that was wrapped around her waist as she talked emphatically with her oversized hands. She was wearing a black gown that matched the man next to her, making it appear as though they were a couple. The third person was a tall overlord with wolf features, colored bright pink and green. 

“I just don’t understand why we have to come to these things looking different than we would if we were out and about! I have shit to do after this and I don’t want people pointing and laughing at me because a big girl is in a teeny tiny ballgown,” the wolf Overlord said, flipping her neon hair over her shoulder dramatically.

“I know that you are rather new to this scene, being an Overlord that died in the current millenia, but there are a way that these things are done,” the Overlord with long white hair said. “I was born in the 1800s and poor, but I still know what a dress code is.”

“Zeze, we do not mean any offense, we are simply trying to make sure that the royals understand the power and respect that we as Overlords are just as powerful as them and thus should be respected. Dost thou think that thou is not worthy of respect?” the tallest of the Overlords asked.

Lucifer then stepped in before things could get more messy. “It’s wonderful to see the three of you again this evening. Zestial, Miss Carmine, I adore the look that you’re both going for and I assure you that I can handle the situation from here on out.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Miss Carmine said as she gave a curtsy to the king. They both walked towards the dancefloor, their hands interlinked and their voices meant for only each other. 

Michael wondered if one day he and Lucifer would be like them, a couple that held more power than most humans could fathom but entirely wrapped up within each other. It was something he wanted more than he realized as the thought sank lower and lower inside of his body. It felt like it was consuming him, the idea of being able to grow old with the man that he had loved since they were created from the same tiny burst of stardust and told to keep track of each other. 

His partner had turned entirely to face the Overlord that had been fighting with the other two. She was quite a bit taller than Lucifer and about three times as broad. Despite the fact that Michael knew his partner was the strongest being in all of Hell, he still stepped a bit closer to Lucifer. The moment that the Overlord made a motion he didn’t like, she’d be pinned up against the wall with Michael’s sword against his neck. Lucifer may be able to defend himself, but someone that beautiful and charming shouldn’t have to do any dirty work when someone as loyal and steadfast as Michael could do it for him.

“I believe that I did issue a dress code on the invitations that I sent out, Zeze,” Lucifer commented.

“Like I said before, I have shit to do after this,” she huffed, folding her arms over her chest.

“Then I suggest that you get ahead on those things. Those that do not fit the dress code are insulting the validity of this ball as the debut into society for my daughter and are thus not welcome,” Lucifer said, holding one of his hands out to the side of his body in the general direction of the grand entrance to the ballroom.

“Listen here you classist little freak,” Zeze growled as she stuck her furry paw out towards him, claws extended long and sharp.

Before she had a chance to advance on the king even a little bit more, Michael had already switched their places and his hand was grasping the hilt of his sword. “I would suggest that you back down and listen to your king, wolf,” he snarled. He hadn’t felt that protective over someone since he had found Lucifer in the Garden and Sera had almost gotten him in trouble for it. His king may have been able to protect himself better than anyone else would have, but Michael was made for one purpose only and that purpose was to make sure that Lucifer was happy.

“Fucking guard dog, insufferable,” Zeze muttered under her breath. She held herself closely to try and make it so that she was a smaller target to the eyes of the populous as she made her way out of the building. 

He might have been upset about the nickname if it had come at a different time, but no he liked it. The idea that he was there beside Lucifer to protect him as a dog made him feel entirely whole. He had felt rather purposeless when he was had fallen from Heaven and then threw himself into trying to find something for him to do. It had given him a strange kind of purpose to find a task to do each day, but this was much better. This was fulfilling on a level close to his soul. It gave him purpose for more than just a day, more than a simple job to occupy his time. 

This was something that he was going to cling to with sharp teeth and claws.

[foileadeux]

anyway ive been rotating holly in my mind to the tune of return to oblivion. slave to my fate i am doomed to repeat this again and again and again and again. turn the light on and let her in wont you turn the light on. im insane

wait no ur so right..... whadda hell.....also consider: "to the edge" or "answers" or "tomorrow and tomorrow" w the vessles?? "sunrise" or "fallen angel" with radiance... many thoughts

[felixwriting]

As my birthday comes to a close (I'm 25 babeyyy) all I wanna say is....anyone wanna send me asks about my OCs? I'll answer them tomorrow since I am sleepy af but yea idk.

Some lil OC summaries under the read more

Lucian (Apocalyptica): they/them, OCD antichrist, awkward nerd with scary eldritch powers that they don't really want. Very in love with Harvey.

Harvey (Apocalyptica): she/her, Fallen Angel, sunshine person who loves so much and has trouble making and keeping friends. Very in love with Lucian.

Edric (Apocalyptica): he/him, bitch boy cult leader bastard man asshole. Tragic figure in his own stupid way

Laelia (Apocalyptica): she/her, Fallen Angel, social media influencer hungry for power. Asshole girlboss.

Sirena (Space Pirates): she/her, cannibal pirate captain, co-dependant relationship with Tobias, does blood magic, very unhinged.

Tobias (Space Pirates): he/him, supportive of his crazy wife and is her first mate, the co-dependency goes both ways, also does blood magic.

Holly (Space Pirates): she/her, best friend of Tobias and Sirena and she doesn't know if she regrets that fact or adores them at any given moment.

I do have other OCs too, but these are my main assholes rn

[laresearchette]

Thursday, March 30, 2023 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: RAPCAVIAR PRESENTS (Disney + Star)

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT PROM PACT (Premiering on April 01 on Disney Channel Canada at 7:00pm) THE CROODS: FAMILY TREE (TBD - YTV)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

CBC GEM BLACK BOYS SKATE TOO WITNESS (Season 1)

DISNEY + STAR RAP CAVIAR PRESENTS (Season 1 - All Episodes Available)

NETFLIX CANADA BIG MÄCK: GANGSTERS AND GOLD FROM ME TO YOU: KIMI NI TODOKE PULP FICTION RIVERDALE (Season 7) UNSTABLE

MLB BASEBALL (SN1) 1:00pm: Giants vs. Yankees (SN) 4:00pm: Jays vs. Cardinals (TSN3) 7:00pm: White Sox vs. Astros (SN) 10:00pm: Angels vs. A’s

NHL HOCKEY (SN360) 7:00pm: Blue Jackets vs. Bruins (TSN2) 7:00pm: Panthers vs. Habs (TSN5) 7:00pm: Flyers vs. Sens (SNWest) 9:00pm: Kings vs. Oilers (SN360) 10:00pm: Ducks vs. Kraken

BIG BROTHER CANADA (Global) 7:00pm

CANADIAN FILM FEST (Super Channel Fuse) 7:00pm: HOW TO GET MY PARENTS TO DIVORCE: Justine is tired of the bickering and the climate at home since her mother's miscarriage. She rallies her friends to create their own court, but things don't go as planned. She will have to learn to communicate her pain so that harmony can return.

9:00pm: GOLDEN DELICIOUS: Everyone wants something from Jake: his father is pushing him to try out for the basketball team and his girlfriend wants to take their relationship to the next level. When Aleks moves in across the street Jake struggles with his own desires.

NBA BASKETBALL   (SN360) 7:30pm: Cavaliers vs. Nets (TSN2) 7:30pm: Celtics vs. Bucks (TSN2) 10:00pm: Pelicans vs. Nuggets (SN360) 10:30pm: Thunder vs. Clippers

CANADA'S ULTIMATE CHALLENGE (CBC) 8:00pm: In the semi-finals, solo Players do the Smokestack Climb in Sudbury; the teams go 750m underground in Mine Rescue; and pairs complete in a Sea-Doo Slalom tubing course; only two teams make the cut.

EVOLVING VEGAN (CTV Life) 8:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Mena Massoud, actor and cookbook author, travels across North America and eats his way through some of the coolest cities to show us how beautiful meals, talented chefs and restaurateurs are making plant-based food delicious and attainable. He explores the exploding vegan food scene in Los Angeles, Austin, Mexico City, Vancouver, Portland and Toronto, showing us just how mouth-watering plant-based food can be.

FALLEN ANGELS MURDER CLUB: HEROES AND FELONS (CTV Life) 9:00pm: Members of the Fallen Angels Murder Club search for answers surrounding the mysterious death of one of their own. Hollis soon finds herself at the center of the investigation when a journalist who's reporting on the murder also winds up dead.

THE GREAT POTTERY THROW DOWN (Makeful) 9:00pm: Siobhán McSweeney's back, as the remaining potters create a self-sculpture, build their own sawdust kilns and make candlesticks under pressure, for a place in the semi-final

CANADIAN REFLECTIONS (CBC) 11:30pm: The Story Coat; Bad Omen

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

can't figure out if you reblogged the top five or not but if you did/do, top five x files characters that only show up in one episode/a two parter?

I did NOT yet, I stuck it in my likes to rb later and then FORGOT dbdjsnsjsk... I'll answer this and then go reblog it!

she's a recurring character for a while so I didn't include her in this, but Melissa Scully my beloved!!!!! I love her SO MUCH

Emily Sim... baby girl.... beloved. whoever created her may not have intended for anyone to love her, but she was VERY loved.

Agent Holly Patton (according to the XF wikia), from... I believe she works in Communications at the FBI. she first showed up in the s3 episode "Pusher," and cameos again a couple times in I believe s4? she's so sweet and soft-spoken and gentle, and it's kinda implied that she and Scully talk sometimes.

Max Fenig... Mulder's epileptic abductee buddy from Fallen Angel. he shows up again mid-s4 for like... 5 minutes before he dies. 😔 rest in peace, Max, you were a good boy.

Clone Samantha from Colony/End Game because she's... a fake... but she's also deeply in need of a hug and I love her and the actress is SO GOOD I love her SO MUCH I'm just- hndndbdndnsn her....

Theresa Nemman, the abductee girl from the Pilot who also shows up again for a minute at the end of season 7. she was an absolute sweetheart, i adore her.

the kid from season 7 episode 3 "Hungry," like... a mutant with an insatiable hunger for raw meat?? who tries to repress that urge but only ends up making things worse??? and who actually goes to see a therapist for an "eating disorder" (which... I don't have personal experience but I feel like the topic and metaphor was pretty well handled, considering what show it's in) and who tries, very hard, to be a good person despite his urges and the fact that he had to hide that he's a literal monster... like he was just. a good kid.

yes I picked 6 I don't care i couldn't choose

ask me my top 5 anything!

[heartlandians]

Lifetime Sets Premiere Dates For Two ‘Fallen Angels Murder Club’ Movies & ‘Stolen By Their Father’ Pic

Fallen Angels Murder Club: Heroes and Felons

The members of the Fallen Angels Murder Club must band together again as they search for answers surrounding the death of one of their own. Hollis finds herself at the center of the investigation when a journalist reporting on the murder also winds up dead. As bodies begin to stack up, and Hollis connects the dots, she must solve the murders before it’s too late. Kelly Hu also stars.

The ensemble casts also includes Lisa Berry, Yanic Truesdale, Humberly González, Rainbow Sun Francks, Raoul Bhaneja, Henderson Wade, Kaitlyn Leeb, Rob Stewart, Keith D. Robinson and Shawn Ahmed.

Source

[holly-the-fallen-angel]

He smirked and just decided to leave you there, tickling your stomach endlessly.

"Too bad, my dear!"

[OOC] I'm soooooooo sorry I answered this sooooooooo late T-T

"Whahahahat dohoho you mehehean!? Lehehet mehehe gohoho!"

[bubmyg]

twice bitten - myg

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre/warnings: vampire!yoongi, again...so much fluff, blood mention, told mostly from yoongi’s pov, non-chronological and a part of my vampire yoongi drabble series (listed as “midnight angels” on my masterlist!)

word count: 2,455

summary: the one where yoongi, the two hundred year old vampire, thinks of using a bat as a defensive mechanism before anything else or where yoongi is really creative with names. 

One foot on the first stair and Yoongi hesitated, gaze flitting back to the glinting object propped up meticulously behind the giant banner and various figurines littering his desk space. Another rustle beyond the flimsy door at the top of the staircase and his hesitation became action, rushed footsteps carrying him back into the depth of his basement to retrieve the metal bat. 

He was delicate with it at first, turning the barrel in massive palms a few times, pink lips fished as he considered the worn logo on the fattest part of the bat, a company that hadn’t been in business for decades. With a huff, he squared his shoulders, settling the bat over one side of his body as he began to take the stairs two creaking ascends at a time. 

The groan of the door as he peeled it open left the deserted house in an eerie silence, all aside from the refrigerator humming in the kitchen down the hall. Sun spots peaked out from where his blackout curtains didn’t cover, particles of dust flicking through the rays but otherwise, there was no movement except for the gentle rise and fall of Yoongi’s chest as he garnered enough courage to place both feet on the ground level of his house. 

He tried to appear nonchalant even though there was, again, no one around to observe his jumpy actions, bat bumping against his thigh as he strolled down the hall for the kitchen. The pockets of sun made him shiver, but it wasn’t enough to hinder his ability to make it into the kitchen, a room enclosed in the middle of the house, especially not when he flattened the bat to the countertop and pulled something akin to a juice box of blood from within the whirring appliance. He took a delicate sip, lips rested on the edge of the bent straw as his eyes surveyed over into the next set of halls and rooms, again, finding nothing. 

The house was void of what he’d heard in the basement, sounds of the wind curling dead leaves into the brick and glass outside sure, but nothing like the strange crackling rustles he’d heard, something similar to when it stormed and the oak tree in the backyard landscaping craned enough to brush it’s limbs over the bedroom window. 

Yoongi had called for them to be trimmed after the third night of having to calm you down when you woke in a tremor, clinging to him like a wet leaf as the branches cackled outside. 

He finished off the box with a loud slurping noise and puffed cheeks, quickly depositing the trash before daring to curl around the countertop without quick reach to his bat. He relaxed instead when he spotted some tufts of fabric draped over one of the reclining chairs in the adjacent sitting room. Couples costumes for the Halloween party you were going to attend later, jerseys you’d spent hours customizing in typical Space Jam fashion, complete with a headband of grey, fuzzy bunny ears to sit through the stark black of Yoongi’s head. A tiny smile graced his lips as his index finger trailed over the painted lettering on the back, your voice ringing in his head with the threat of wearing a collection of cotton balls on his ass as a tail if he so much as poked you while you were trying to complete the costumes. 

His fingernail had so much as scraped over the paint, making a visible noise, when something, the sound, occurred, louder than before and complete with a soft thump just beside the towering front door of the house. 

Yoongi nearly dove headfirst into the cut edge of the marble countertop to retrieve the bat, barely feeling the nerve endings in his legs as he slunk forward, ignoring the nausea that erupted in his stomach as the sunlight peeking out from the tiny, stained glass windows on either side of door curled goosebumps into his bare arms. 

Shaking fingers fiddled at the lock, managing to fumble it open and the door in the same moment, forcing him to stumble over the lip of the front door. A deep, onset shiver ran through his entire being as the sun fully touched him now but he ignored it, head whipping to the sound of the rustling as it continued. 

A massive holly bush just to the left of the tiny front porch shook violently, its leaves repeatedly scratching into the window just beyond it but periodically tilting so much that the weight of two or three branches catapulted into the glass like snapping a rubber band into a solid surface. Yoongi frowned, catching a stabilizing hand on the railing as socked feet brushed against the mulch, carrying him toward the bush. 

The closer he got, the less it shook, until finally when he was crouched next to it, it ceased any movement, not so much as breathing even as the wind continued to whirl dying blades of grass in the front yard. He swallowed the string of bile rising upward into his throat, making the sting of hunger that struck suddenly ten times worse, as he reached crooked knuckles of his free hand to push aside some of the branches to peer inside. 

Yoongi felt it before he heard it, the swat of something sharp but fuzzy on the end against his hand, but it was the heard part that had him stumbling backward onto his ass, one, loud, continuous mrow! jumping through the spaces in the bush. 

Two, beaded yellow eyes seemed to laugh at his fallen figure, head quirking to the side before another, softer bleat of greeting poured from the bush, followed by the graceful hop of a tiny black kitten into Yoongi’s lap. 

His mouth had barely parted to question the animal that couldn’t answer him anyway when there was another, more distinct meow, deeper and a bit crackly. The kitten already perched on the apex of his knee turned at the sound too, just in time for its counterpart of the orange tabby variety to join it between the part of Yoongi’s splayed out legs. 

They each stared at him, as if anticipating his response, and when neither got one, the black one began to rub it’s cheek against the denim of Yoongi’s jeans while the orange one swiped an indifferent paw over the long fur coating it’s tiny face. 

“It was you two making all that noise?” He chastised weakly, and suddenly he felt overwhelming embarrassed about the bat now rolled up against the side of the front porch. Now he understood the strange hunger in his throat, one not quite the same as what he felt toward you but different, attuned to the different taste that was animal blood, but it was easier to fight when he hadn’t tasted animal in centuries. 

And when they began to search for his hands, meeting him halfway by nudging their tiny heads into the clammy palms he stretched for them. 

The kittens came with Yoongi as he stood, mewls of protest as they were lifted into the air in separate hands as he began to take shaky steps back for the house. He addressed the black one first as he pulled them against his chest, the one who’d ceased making noises of protest first. 

“Not a word about this.”

Yoongi barely blinked at the business logo plastered to the glass of the front door to your building, the only thing reminding him that this was the Bureau of Vampiric Affairs being the small keypad that required him to flash a specially acquired ID card shoved in the front of his wallet. He gripped the over the shoulder bag slung so it was centered to his stomach as he pressed the plastic into the chip reader, foot tapping both in wait and with the exhaustion still bubbling in his being from being in the sun too much, body not recovered from the afternoon excursion let alone from his car ride over and walk through the city to get to your office. 

His usual formality with the front receptionist was forgotten when the door finally allowed him entrance, turning curtly on his heel down the long, carpeted hallway that contained your office. The door was shut and he forgot to knock but he was thankful that you were munching on an apple with your phone in your palm when he stumbled inside, both items you dropped in favor of startling toward him. 

“Yoongi,” You scolded, moving to reach for him first but trading for yanking your curtains shut first, the human layer first and then the blackout layer second you had for client appointments. Then your hands were on his cheeks, stern in tugging upward on the black mask that covered the bottom half of his face to assure as little skin as possible was susceptible to sunlight. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t think we can go out tonight,” Yoongi mumbled, muffled in the fabric, “I, uh, don’t feel too great.”

“No kidding, you’re outside during peak sunlight hours,” You kept a hand curled around his elbow as you reached behind him to drag a chair over, weakly pushing until he collapsed into it. “Answer my initial question.”

“I needed to come into town to get food.”

Your features scrunched at the center of your face, hip falling against the outer edge of your desk. “Food? You just went to the bank the other day. You’re not supposed to feed for another—” You glanced at the smart watch on your wrist, “—twelve days—”

“Not for me.”

You stared at each other for several passing seconds, ones that had a smile creeping onto Yoongi’s features underneath his mask, one that only grew when you, in a higher pitch, inquired, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

His fingers fumbled for the zipper on his bag, gradual in drawing open the zipper until one, then two, fuzzy heads appeared, meows full force at both light and the new figure in front of them. You were cooing over his explanation, shooting up off the side of your desk to reach inside to gather both of them into your grasp. “These little girls were causing a ruckus out front earlier,” He reached to scratch behind the orange one’s ears while blinking innocently at you, “They don’t like any of your human food and I certainly can’t feed them yours. We’re we going to go to the market next but...they wanted to come visit you.”

“Oh yeah, did they?” There was still a root of concern at your core but you softened at the way Yoongi was fondly assessing the two kittens in your grasp, entirely gentle in the way he let them rub up against his fingers. “So does this mean we’re keeping them?”

You could only see in the way Yoongi’s cheeks jumped that his mouth was fishing open and closed, and you reached to touch his wrist when he was finally, bashfully, shrugging, “I mean...I thought maybe. We don’t have any neighbors so I bet someone just dropped them off and it’s about to get cold and they’re a little skinny so I’m sure no one has been taking proper care of them anyway and—”

His rambles died off when your lips gently touched his cheek, careful in passing the kittens back to him. “Sounds like we definitely need to keep them,” You smiled, warm all over when dark brown eyes flicked to yours amongst another chaotic round of protesting mewls as they were plopped unceremoniously into his lap. “Take the girls home. I’ll get food and some other things for them after work.”

Yoongi’s gloved hands enveloped yours, nudging his fabric covered nose to your cheek. “Don’t you want to hear their names?”

“Oh?” You crouched in front of the kittens to sate their cries with ear scratches, “Tell me.”

He lifted the orange one first, gentle in working her back into the bag at his tummy. “Abra—” He said shortly, nodding, “Or just Abby.”

The black one came with slightly more protest, trying to dig her claws into his thigh to stay rooted where she was receiving pets but she settled once nestled next to her friend again, “And Cadabra—” He was beaming behind his mask again, shown in the way the bridge of his nose and the corners of his eyes crinkles, “Or Caddy.”

Your forever rooted concern washed away for a second as you leaned forward to hook a finger into the top of his mask, tugging it down to plant your lips on his for a chaste moment, trailing those affections back up his warmed cheeks as you secured his mask back to its original position, speaking to his wide, shiny eyes that inspected you, shellshocked. 

“They’re perfect.”

Also…

You tripped through the front door with the weight of the plastic bags in your hands, bags filled with beds (yes, multiple), toys, and three different varieties of hard and soft foods, ones they could eat now as kittens and ones labeled for young cats, all of which you were sure Yoongi had consulted on his office computer after you’d sent him home. You tossed them all in a sad heap next to the tiny end table as you began to work your shoes off your heels. Furrowed eyebrows paired with your loud call into the house, “Hey, Yoongi?”

He heard you first try this time, an echo down the open door to the staircase of his study and you heard the tell tale signs of his ascend now that the sun had began to curl beyond the treeline, “Yes? What’s wrong?”

You waited until you could see Yoongi’s face, something that peered at you from the top stair of the basement with an expectant eyebrow and two tiny kittens on either side of the front pocket of his hoodie. 

“Why is there a baseball bat in the landscaping?”

Yoongi blanched, not budging from his position. “Uh—”

“Open your mouth for me.”

“What?”

“Open your mouth.”

He begrudgingly complied, fangs sliding out from his gums and he glared at your as his cheeks flared a deep set pink. 

You beamed nonetheless, pointing to your mouth where something similar would be if you were of the same, immortal variety. 

“You do know you’re a vampire, right?”

Yoongi plucked the kittens from his pocket, settling them onto the floor to let them scamper off into the house before taking a few, semi-threatening steps toward you with a playful smirk wrinkled to the dimples in his cheeks. 

“I do. Do you need a reminder?”

[wanna-b-poet31]

Would I Lie to You?

It would not be inaccurate to say that Crowley lies. Alot. 

In fact, while I’ve previously talked about how Aziraphale lies through his teeth, TO GOD, TO GABRIEL, and >most heartbreakingly< TO CROWLEY, Crowley is the infinitely more creative and believable liar. He has significantly fewer tells (when not stressed, like you know, after his lover best friend died), watching him seems so much more natural than the twitchy, anxious, Angel we all know and love. 

He has some notable lies throughout the mini-series: 

Some are minor with big consequences, like in the reports where he takes responsibility for Humanity’s misdeeds.

some are omissions, like when he deliberately He fails to tell the higher-ups in Hell about his knowledge about the Anti-Christ, the location of the Anti-Christ and neglected to correct Hell about it.

Some are a matter of self-preservation, like when he hides his intimate relationship with Aziraphale from Hell 

Some are for protection. He says he wants the holy water for “insurance” and when Hastur comes after him (and threatens to go after Aziraphale), his claim comes to fruition. He, however, lies several times in an effort to protect himself and Aziraphale,(and I suppose the world) from Hastur’s wrath. You can see this most notably after Ligur’s death, which makes these lies also kinda a personal “fuck you” to Hastur, (but he’s murderous so he deserves it sorta)

And Finally, some lies are directly in an effort to save Aziraphale. Most obvious of which is when he *spoiler* Impersonates Aziraphale (An F to the U to Heaven kind of lie)

But. NEVER. Once. does. he. lie. to. Aziraphale.

Unlike the demons who he easily deceives at any given moment (particularly in defense of Aziraphale), he refuses to lie to the deceitful.

Are you Satan and have just “blessed” Crowley with the staring role in the Apocalypse?  Yeah, great (lies through his teeth about wanting to partake).

Are you a Duke of Hell inquiring about where the Anti-Christ is and trying to confront Crowley about his relationship with Aziraphale? “So Longggg Suckaaas” I’m gonna lie lie lie and possibly kill you for coming towards me and Aziraphale.

Are you heaven trying to torture my best friend >lover< with hellfire that will surely kill him? Not today motherfucker, because guess what? Now I’m him and I’ll lie my ass off to protect him.

Are you an Angel who shows free will and loves humanity as much as he does? 404 Error lies not found.

This is not to say he’s always honest about his feeling with Aziraphale. God knows he has really bad communication skills. “NGK”’s and stammering aside, he has an unfortunate self-esteem issue which inhibits his confidence and ability to be fully transparent.  This is to say nothing about the 1960′s “go too fast for me” interaction which does little to encourage him. And God, Satan, fuck knows he’s so desperate, to be honest about this, but so scared about being rejected, (and concerned about making Aziraphale uncomfortable, because he’d be rather walk on the consecrated ground than have Aziraphale feel pressured to go a speed he’s uncomfortable with).  

Anthony J(anthony) Crowley, OR What’s In A Name?

Which, let’s talk about surprise confrontations, namely when he’s confronted about his name. Names, I think it’s fair to say, are intimate for Crowley. Not only does he have a canonic deadname, (that fuckers like Hastur continuously use despite knowing he doesn’t use that word), but he is very selective about how open he is with it. In many ways, the Nazis “out” his full name, and despite this, he is transparent, answering Aziraphale’s questions about it.  This is, remember, after falling out, and (presumably) not seeing each other for almost 80 years. He is uncomfortable clearly, (although part of that is attributed both to the Nazis and the consecrated ground he’s prancing around on) but he’s still directly ready to start communicating about it. 

But, despite his apprehension, I don’t think he even lies through omission. When he says the J is “just a J really”, I believe him. 

Firstly, because he has no reason to lie about it at this moment and then immediately switch to honestly tell the Nazi’s that he intervened with the bombing, and is sending one directly down on them. Although he’s not believed by the Nazi’s, we (and Aziraphale) know that he’s being honest here and that his priority, above even his own safety, is protecting Aziraphale. There seems to be no reason, to me at least, then for him to code shift here. 

Anthony J-“Acts of service” Crowley, is in the middle of yet another demonstration of his love. While he might be hesitant to disclose his motives (see: the few seconds of resistance when at the satanic church-turned-paintball-retreat between telling Aziraphale he replaced the paint guns with real guns and revealing no one is killing each other) but he’s in the middle of rescuing Aziraphale, his comfort is very rarely a consideration he calculates for. Choosing to lie about something so personal, and yet taken out of his control is well within his rights. No one is entitled to out him, or you, without express consent.  However, it is out of character for him to do so given how much he trusts Aziraphale and needs his acceptance. 

Which brings me to the second reason I believe him. Trust. 

In this short exchange, he can tell when Aziraphale hears his secret name, the angel is not accusatory, or dismissive, or betrayed, or really particularly judgemental. Sure he asks “Anthony?” with an intonation denoting confusion at the revelation, and having the information conveyed not through Crowley himself (as he was with “Crowley”), but a third party, and an untrustworthy third party.  But even when Crowley presses “don’t like it?”, with a trying-not-to-be-scared-at-rejection air of confidence. Except, he’s not rejected. Aziraphale responds “no, I’ll get used to it”, placing the onus of learning on himself and not on Crowley for unexpectedly choosing a first name. Demonstrating, to Crowley at least, that he can be trusted with more information, without the harsh reaction he’s come to expect from Heaven or Hell. 

Look at the above GIF, and focus on the way Aziraphale asks “What does the J Stand for”. His face isn’t angry, (despite being miffed at Crowley not a full minute earlier when he suspected Crowley to be behind Nazism). He’s certainly not focused on “you’ve been hiding a name from me”, or feel entitled to know why he’s just finding out the name. Instead, he’s giving Crowley the opportunity to reveal this information on his own terms. And, effectively, removing power from the Nazis by ignoring them, and by making the conversation about Crowley’s preference. He’s giving Crowley an out here. Asking what it stands for puts the ball in Crowley’s court, not the Nazi’s, not Aziraphale’s, not Heaven or Hells, but Crowley's. He has the power to reveal as he pleases without an expectation or negative reaction. Aziraphale isn’t demanding, he’s asking permission. 

Then, Aziraphale subsequently doesn’t bring it up again. Not that night, not 20 years later, not as Nanny, and not at the Apocalypse. He only calls Crowley by his preferred names, and we never see him pressure Crowley to reveal the rationale. The ball is, still, in Crowley’s court.  

Whenever Aziraphale asks a question, no matter how light-hearted or serious, he will always give an honest answer, even if it sometimes goes over the angel’s head. >see: Crowley being a blubbering mess because his best friend died and Aziraphale not quite understanding that the best friend is him<

The Final Solution

I think a perfect example of his complicated, but raw, honesty towards Aziraphale specifically, is his request for holy water.

So this is a tense interaction, and arguably really abrupt given both Aziraphale’s surprise and the two friendly interactions we’d seen beforehand.  However, never once during this whole request does Crowley lie. Sure, he’s being cryptic, trying to speak in code “because the trees have ears”, but when he says it’s for insurance, not a suicide pill, it is for insurance. 

He, more than anyone else, can tell that his relationship with Aziraphale has morphed in such a way over the thousands of years that he knows exposure would put him and, more importantly, put Aziraphale, in danger. We don’t see much of Hell, but we can deduce that if Hell ever found out about it --if it all goes pear-shaped -- they would be subjected to horrific consequences, possibly torture, probably holly water. 

Aziraphale, simply, does not believe him that his only motivation is protection because it is too close to his own fears about Crowley being destroyed.

Which is why I think Crowley’s so upset about the word “fraternize”. First, there is a class element involved with the Victorian use of the word (usually referring to someone of a higher class interacting friendly to a lower class member). Where Aziraphale may have meant comradery (and brotherhood, which also not how Crowley views their relationship) Crowley certainly acts as if he took it to mean Aziraphale was speaking to him like an enemy or an “inferior” species.

This is only further supported by Aziraphale’s accusatory “we may have both started out as Angels, but YOU are fallen”, placing (in my opinion) too much emphasis on Crowley’s fall (a huge retraumatizing trigger for him). But this whole characterization of their relationship is a lie Aziraphale tells himself to repress his fears about Heaven’s traumatic treatment of him. By this point in their partnership (as we’ve seen) both he and Crowley go out of their ways to treat each other as equals. 

To deny it, to repress their feeling is a slap. in. the. face.

Further, the audience for lying clearly matters to Crowley.  In the relative privacy of the park, Aziraphale says “fraternize”, which doesn’t do enough justice for the kind of intimacy the uniquely share. It implies they could be enemies or strangers (which they aren’t, they’re at least friends). Crowley is so intimately aware that even now, in the 1800′s, it’s them (and humanity) against divinity.  And, Crowley refuses to lie to Aziraphale, especially about the sort of relationship they share. Sure he won’t tell the other demons, and sure as hell won’t tell the angels how deep their relationship goes, but in this private moment, where he’s approaching as a partner (not an adversary)? It would be the worst kind of lie. It would ignore or erase the new space they’ve created for themselves where they can be equals.

In the above gif, we see Crowley angry and lash out. He says harsh words and insists that he doesn’t need Aziraphale. 

Since we’re counting, I don’t think this is a lie. Now, no, it is untrue, he clearly does need Aziraphale in his life, but he’s just been smacked in the face with the insinuation that they are not equals, they are not friends, they are enemies, and I believe him at this moment, a very hurt Crowley, decides if that’s how Aziraphale is going to treat him, then Crowley will treat him like he treats everyone else in his life. He doesn’t need them. He doesn’t need God, even though he talks to her; he doesn’t need Hell or Beelzebub, even though he curtsies to them; he doesn’t need Heaven, even though he will endure them for his Angel. So, clearly, if Aziraphale is going to ask to be treated like everyone else, he will. 

At the moment he says I think he means it.  Crowley cannot nor, given how everyone else in the series treats him, should not make time for someone who won’t take his concerns seriously. If Aziraphale is going to act as if he thinks so little of their relationship, then he doesn’t need Aziraphale in his life. Essentially, If he can’t be seen as an equal, he’d prefer not to be seen at all.

A Queer Little Lie

Although, this is a temporary truth, and one Crowley is more than willing to correct because he cares about Aziraphale in a way he never does for his hellish counterparts. Crowley cares too deeply to wish Aziraphale any real harm, even if Aziraphale can’t call a spade a spade. Crowley knows that he’s being lied to. He knows that Aziraphale is as afraid of repercussions as he is. He also knows that Aziraphale is not “out” in the same way he is.  

Although that’s a post for a different day, you can certainly read Crowley and Aziraphale as being different kinds of queer. Crowley is the outed queer, abandoned, kicked out of his home, and really never given the choice to come out of the closet. Like his name, it was done for him. Aziraphale, in contrast, is the closeted queer who either knows his family will reject him, so he does his best passing, or he has been conditioned his whole life to believe being out in the way Crowley is wrong. He knows that his “family” who is supposed to unconditionally love him, will reject him, and so he has developed the protection of lying. It gives him a sense of safety and control over his situation, letting him (albeit unhealthily) cope.  He’s afraid to take that jump over the edge.

So, to protect himself and Crowley, Aziraphale lies.   

Knowing this doesn’t mean Aziraphale isn’t hurting Crowley. He is. 

But, Crowley understands both the fear and pain that comes with the rejection and is doing his best to provide the support that is being denied. He sure as Hell would move heaven and earth to demonstrate the extent of his love and commitment to Aziraphale in a way that Heaven never does.  Where Heaven and Hell lie and gaslight and hurt Azira, Crowley meets him with kindness, even in the face of these lies.

He shows as much in his rescue in 1941, and again when Aziraphale once again lies and says “we’re not friends…I don’t even like you” in the bandstand. These lies actively hurt Crowley but not once does he retaliate with.  Instead, he meets Aziraphale with blunt honesty. Saying “yes you do” doing everything he can to get Aziraphale on the same page, and share their truth.

Look at the above gifs. Not only does Crowley KNOW Aziraphale is lying, but Aziraphale knows it too. While he clearly loves Crowley and has loved Crowley for some time, his inability to work through his anxieties and rely on Crowley as a support system, as a partner, he can’t come to terms with his own trauma.

So, Aziraphale lies.

He lies and he hurts Crowley. He lies and he dismisses Crowley’s honesty. He lies and he harms himself because they both know this is a facade he can’t keep up much longer. He lies, because everything else in his life is unstable, and he’s desperately trying to cling to the stability Heaven claims to provide. And, Crowley still meets him with honesty and forgiveness.

And honestly, it breaks his heart (and mine) to belied to so damn much. Under normal circumstances, Crowley could be patient. He could wait for Aziraphale to come to terms with their relationship almost for forever. But, shit hits the fan, and he needs to show Aziraphale that two of them need to stop dancing, stop being cryptic, and cut through the bullshit for once.

Which brings me to the first Gif of this meta. Take a moment, scroll the ridiculous amount up, and just look at the indignation on his face. in the earlier gif “Would I lie to you?”, 

He clearly consciously makes a point to never lie to Aziraphale, despite it supposedly being “the demon’s way”. Not in anger (like at the bandstand) not even if it’s uncomfortable (like when he’s criticizing Aziraphale for being so clever and so stupid), not even if the angel is (knowingly or unknowingly) hurting him with his lies.

Crowley draws the line at tainting his relationship with the kind of lies Heaven tells, and the kind of disregard Hell tells.  Because despite the lies he’s told by Aziraphale, Crowley knows who he can trust, who he needs on his side, who he wants to spend the end of the world with, and it sure as hell isn’t Hastur or Beelzebub.  

Because at the end of the day, Crowley knows what the two of them share together.  One great way to see this comparison is to checkout @theladyzephyr ‘s meta on Crowley and his glasses. Because while he does let his guard down for Aziraphale (even if only drunk), his autonomy, his consent to be himself is constantly being taken from him.  His name, his glasses, his support system (including Aziraphale), and everything he loves is taken from him. 

Aziraphale, for all his lies, does not cross the most sacred of personal boundaries as Hell does. He genuinely cares for Crowley even if he’s scared, and when the chips are down he will pick Crowley, pick humanity, and pick their side. He shows remorse for his actions and is clearly just as hurt by his own lies as Crowley is. 

More importantly, he comes back. He joins Crowley, and helps support Crowley, and does his best to empower our demon to heal. 

TLDR: Crowley refuses to lie to Aziraphale. Many Hearts are broken. Aziraphale does his best. Someone give Crowley a Hug. 

Thanks for coming to my TedTalk! 

@aardvark-crowley

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

the layoff (Talking In Your Sleep) (Sriracha, Chapter 8.)

Reworked and re-imagined: November 2023  🎆

Description: Going to the party at Steve’s, getting hammered and high didn’t seem like a much of a good idea after the local chief of police finds you vomiting all over his blazer. As a punishment, you’re supposed to replace their secretary Florence while she leaves for her two-month vacation. And ever since that night, your life was turned upside down.

Part Summary: The trust you built with Hopper suddenly turns into a quick moment of kindness as he still pushes on ignoring you. This time, it seems personal. So much so that you decide to investigate further after the Chief sacks you off under the pretext you were 'working diligently'. And oh boy, the night brings events like any other.

Word counter: 10K

You tried keeping the injury a secret. Thankfully, Aiden had a driver's license - you planned on asking your younger brother to drive you to the police station every morning because asking your mother would be awkward. The way you knew her, she'd get too nosy and dig around what happened.  And after this morning's discoveries, your head wasn't entirely in the place to make up believable stories. Well, let's say the plan went sideways. You couldn't hide the injury, not even for five minutes. Opening the front door, you were immediately met with your mom, who was just seeing your father off to work.

One glance. It took your mom one glance to notice your uncomfortable stance and unnatural posture. Questions were coming your way the moment your dad was out the door. "G'mornin', kid." - Your dad muttered, gently kissing your cheek and ruffling your hair. - "How was the shift? Promotion soon?" "Doubt it, Hopper likes me as his personal barista better than seeing me in a useful position." "Quit, then." - He said, making you grin. "Think I finally know who I got my sense of humor after. Hopefully, your work flies by. Magnum PI was on yesterday, I couldn't watch it and now, I need a couch buddy." - Your dad didn't answer, just showed you a thumbs-up. "Have a good one." - Waving at him, your mom leaned into the door frame. Lady, your old cocker-spaniel, decided to join you all in the hall - she'd just fallen on her side, ogling her big brown eyes at you both.

"'Overtime?' That's what you called it?" - She muttered as soon as your dad was far away enough. - "And now you limp back with your foot hurting so bad you can't stand on it?" "I fell." - Gritting through your teeth, you tried your best to stay calm. "Surely. Where were you?" "At work, dealing with insurance frauds, took a nap on the sofa and just ten minutes ago, Hopper dropped me off at the corner of Maple and Dearborn." "Do you want me to call the Chief to check your funny little story?" - Her trust in you wasn't corroded, but she'd still been angry with you. That much was evident. At least she wasn't furious. In April, when you vomited on Hopper's car, she refused to speak to you for a month... Only talking to you after your Indianapolis scholarship got green-lit.

"Go ahead, Mom." - Sighing, you'd pet Lady behind her ears before sitting on the stairs to take off your shoes. Dad's car was leaving the driveway, leaving you two to it. Aiden probably slept over at Steve's, the duo being the apple of your mom's eye. Two perfect little angels. - "He'll tell you the exact same story. I got too excited, got up too quickly, knocked down a cup, broke it, and accidentally stepped on a shard. It's not that big of a deal." - Mom stood in the hall for a moment, furrow turning into a soft, worried expression. "Is it bad, baby?" "Chief looked at it and said it's healing well. Wanna see it?" "Maybe tomorrow for re-dressing. I'll be on my way now, Karen asked me if I'd like to come over for brunch and go to the pool with her, Mike, and Holly." - Your mom explained, putting a sunhat on. - "Wanna come with?" "To end up as the main babysitter? No, not today. Enjoy yourselves, though, and say hi to me. I'll probably hit the sack, the couch was no good for my back." "There's a casserole in the oven. Heat it up." - Bending over, she'd lean down to kiss your cheek carefully. - "I love you, baby." "Love you too, mom. Enjoy the day." "And... Mom?" - She stopped amid the stairs, turning back at you. - "I'll need a drive to the station tomorrow... And a week after that."

A perfect little lie to close your mom's mouth. Just a little lie to avoid further questioning. Despite the awkward atmosphere during your departure, you weren't worried about Hopper not backing you up. Something told you he's trustworthy. In the end, his dignity would be up for questioning too. Had you two truly dug into insurance frauds, or did he mess around with a college girl - someone half his age? Sleeping around was one thing, but mangling with someone in their early twenties? Even it'd be just a rumor? That'd bring the fragile remnants of his reputation to flames.

And... That's how the torturous week and a half had started. As usual, you kept on top of your work with admire-worthy diligence. Coffee and doughnuts were prepared on time. You answered all incoming calls, sorted most of their contents to relieve Hopper and the boys of some work, and filed all the incoming reports. The usual. Your foot healed and just a week later, you didn't limp around anymore. Well, you did, but as noticeably. The phantom pain still shot up to your thigh, but you could lean into the leg comfortably.

Everything was normal. Except one thing. A person, to be precise. Chief Jim Hopper pretended you didn't exist. Your interactions before 'the night' were secluded and limited but after it? Non-existent. As far as Hopper was concerned, you didn't exist. The man started leaving his office more infrequently than before, picking up all the supplies in the morning and sometimes going to the bathroom, if he couldn't bare his bladder anymore. No names starting with M, no conversations whatsoever. The guy didn't even fucking look way. Whatever happened on 'the night' rubbed Hopper the wrong way. He must've been barely keeping it together when dropping you off. The best part? You couldn't remember shit. Your memory didn't budge. Whatever was said or done, Hopper was the sole witness.

Everyone felt some tension in the air, some (Callahan) even asked. Hopper's favorite one-liners regarding the officer's wives were seemingly long forgotten. The change signaled something inherently wrong. So much so that Powell decided to investigate. Both you and Callahan sat on the edge of your table, listening in. "Hey, Chief." - Powell muttered with a subtle smile, slowly walking in with his hat between his fingers. The papers before Hopper were forgotten as he raised his eyes to look at Powell, furrowing. - "How you doin' the last couple of days?" "Normal?" - Hopper guessed, the dark circles under his eyes bringing out the blue in his eyes. "You seem to be more tired than usual." - Powell explained, sitting on the uncomfortable chair opposite Hopper. James surely looked tired. His eyes darkened and wrinkles deepened with worry. Even now, glancing at Powell, Hopper looked like he wanted someone dead in the next few minutes. He'd usually carried the image of a jackass, but this new image was a step up.

"No shit, Sherlock." - Chief scoffed, leaning into his chair while lighting up a cigarette. His eyes darted on Powell, never dwelling at one spot for too long. His colleague entered his sanctuary, the only office anyone dared enter in a week. - "The hell do you want? A day off?" "No, Hop. I'm worried. We all are." "Who is 'we'?" "Frank, Claris, Jamie, Phil, Y/N..." - Powell sighed. - "Actually, speaking of Y/N, there's a thing I'd like to ask about." "She doin' somethin' funny?" - Something sparked inside Hopper's eyes, a flash of unidentifiable emotion. - "Want me to have a chat with her?" "Me and the boys thought about throwing her a farewell party if you'd be up for it." "A farewell party?" - James asked back, clearly taken aback. "She'd been our little miss secretary for a month and a half already. The girl's leaving the town in two weeks and we've robbed her of an entire summer. The least we could do is throw a small celebration." - As Powell explained, Hopper froze entirely, the furrow deepening. Two weeks? Bullshit. It couldn't be...

"Hol' up. Slow down. What's the date?" "Monday the 15th, boss." "Fuck." - It was a mutter, but the panic in Hopper's voice said it all. Something was wrong. He fucked up. He spent the last week with self-reflection, thinking about your interaction - frankly, he dove into all the files and work that accumulated on his desk while trying to find an angle to approach you. - "God fucking damn it." Getting over himself for long enough to ask if you'd hear him out was a grueling task, too great for a self-indulged asshole like James Hopper. Each time he glanced at you in the mornings, sitting all preppy behind the desk with papers before you, he'd see your eyes ogling back at him and lips pursed into a true smile, the courage he'd gathered simply evaporated. The more he attempted to suppress the attraction, the more he failed at forgetting it. Sometimes, he'd catch a glimpse of you simply standing around and chatting with the other boys and he'd remain still and watch the curves of your body and lively movements, like some low-class pervert. Your butt was a sight to behold, especially dressed in the tight jeans of yours. Other times, he cracked the office door three inches open to listen to your voice. Listening to you as you answered calls or chatted with the others was a fixity in Hopper's day-to-day life.

Hopper fucked it up. He missed the opportunity to address you and have a heart-to-heart with you. The chance of getting better slipped through his fingers. "So what? You wanna set up a party with cakes and balloons? Want me to invite Bob Newby as the clown too?" - Hopper grunted, throwing his pen away with a frustrated sigh. "Given the work she got done? Remembering it was your condition not to plaster 'destroying state worker's property' into her record? I'll pay for Newby's attendance myself." - Powell scoffed back ironically. The clap-back earned him a very irritated look from Hopper. It only lasted until Hopper yawned as if he hadn't seen the bed for a week.

What had James achieved instead of talking to you? Insomnia. If he'd considered his sleeping pattern shit before 'the night', it reached a brand new low. While not sleeping, Hopper took three pills of Tuinal each evening before lying down to consume hours of stupid TV, sipping on beers, and falling asleep around 4. Before, he'd doze off shortly after 2 and even that amount of sleep wasn't enough. The last time he'd used the bed in his trailer and slept properly was when you slept over. Since then, he'd only grab fresh clothes from the wardrobe, but avoid staying in the room altogether. Glancing over the undone sheets reminded Hopper of what you've said, your observations, and correct guesses.

"She'd be leaving the noon after finishing her last shift, moving to Indianapolis for her studies. Have you stopped and tried talking to her at least once? It's been the plan since Y/N's first day here. Phil and I thought we'd make the last evening enjoyable and memorable for her." "Of course, I talked to her, Calvin. Get off my back. I'm just busy with work unlike someone, and forgot. I also hadn't realized it was halfway through August. I'll think about it." "Thanks, boss. She'll be glad." - Powell nodded as he left the office, having you and Callahan eagerly waiting for the tea.

Powell left the office twenty minutes ago and yet, Hopper sat in the same position and started at the ajar door. Unable to move, speak, or take a normal breath. His chest tightened, his mouth dried and his palms sweated. He didn't have enough capacity to take a pill or coffee. Was he having a panic attack? Two weeks. Just sixteen days until you'd pack your entire existence into your Impala and leave for Indianapolis to become a student at a true university. Undoubtedly, Hopper imagined you were ready to leave Hawkins. Leaving on the first of September. Gave you enough to settle down in the dorm and explore the campus and adjacent areas before the semester kicks off. Escaping your responsibilities to feel younger for a little longer, as you said.

This day wasn't as bad until the reality check. Each day in Hopper's life was rough, but this was a low blow. It threw him off the rails. Gasping for air when he broke out of the panic breakdown, Hopper popped another pill and started pacing around the room, trying to get his breath under control. He'd lean his palms into the nape of his neck, counting down to zero - one of the few tricks he learned during his 10 minutes at the Vet meetings. He'd give anything to doze off (like a million times before), so he wouldn't deal with this situation. You had to be gone sooner than that. James needed to watch you leave on his accord - he refused to wait for some stupid fucking deadline. Even now, being in your proximity had him on edge. Your departure would devastate him.

Taking a breath, Hopper decided to break the silence. With all the strength left inside him, he'd strut in front of your desk with a murderous furrow. Again, there you were - your eyes innocently taking him in, lips parted, hair styled messily. Was that his T-shirt? For the love of... Waiting until you finished your call felt endless, but you'd scribe everything down into a form before putting the phone down. Hopper had your undivided attention.

There was something about you. Something James couldn't put his finger on, but it started every fucking alarm inside his body and brain... Both positive and negative. He wasn't into you. He didn't lie away, thinking about you every spare moment, the physical attraction wasn't even fully there yet. James liked you, but... It was more of a feeling, a vibe his brain of forty-one years couldn't decipher despite belonging among the detective cream of New York. Looking at your lips, he didn't itch to kiss - but would comply if asked. Your eyes reflected patience and the illusion of safety that calmed Hopper down. The man didn't want you to leave Hawkins and him behind. It was crazy to think, but James felt you knew him better than most people he met before.

"What's up?" "Would you care for... A moment? My office?" - Hopper muttered nervously, licking his lips, shooting a glance at the empty office. Powell and Callahan watched you both intensely, waiting for your answer. God damn it... Hopper looked awful. Something was wrong. "Sure. Lead the way." - Soon, you'd be sitting on the uncomfortable chair inside his office, looking at him with your palms in your lap.

Prolonged silence spread between you as you started at one another. Hopper kept entwining and unwrapping his fingers, moving his palms from his desk to his lap, trying to find a comfortable position. Something was awfully wrong. Has anyone in Hawkins seen Chief James Hopper antsy before? You'd start the conversation if you weren't mortified, frozen with fear. "You and I..." - Hopper muttered, voice low and raspy. - "We need to talk." - Nodding at his statement, your stomach contracted. Not knowing what to do, your body started trembling, palms sweating. It was regarding 'the night', must've been. You haven't got a fucking idea what to say. No clue. "Listen, whatever happened..." "Not the topic of discussion, miss Y/L/N." - Oh, you were royally fucked if Hopper whipped out your surname. The surname you didn't know Hopper cared to learn. - "It came to my attention you'll be leavin' Hawkins for Indianapolis, does that check?" - His tone suddenly confident, calm, and collected. You nodded, watching his thumbs rotating in slow circles. The question came out of the left field, hitting you unprepared. Hopper seemed... Sour.

"I'll move there to continue studying for my master's degree in medical psychology, sir. Are my studies the focus of the discussion?" - Asking nervously, you started playing around with your... Well, Hopper's t-shirt. The man opposite you looked like he was on the verge of leashing out - he was angry. Not directly at you, but at your choices. At what was to happen. "No, but it's equally important and has much to do with the topic." - Coughing, Hopper looked away. Whatever he wanted to say, it just came for the aftershock. The evening, it was on his tongue. He was about to scold you like a child for drinking too much. For saying shit you shouldn't have - doing something worse surely too. - "I think you worked way over what you've promised. You're free."

That felt like a free fall. Every defense you thought of, every quip, every word... It all flew out of your head, your mouth hanging wide open as you stared at Hopper. He was fucking with you, must've. Crinkling your eyebrows and pointing your finger at the desk, you shook your head in disbelief. "That isn't a part of the deal." - Your voice started shaking. What the fuck was going on? "Given your performance and diligence, we can settle down on ending your part-time job early. You've proven to learn your lesson. Atop, Powell reminded me we've robbed you of most of your summer anyway." - Hopper explained as if 'the deal' didn't concern him. As if he wasn't the one who came up with it. "But who'll... Who'll be the secretary with both I and Flo gone?" "Florence got back earlier than anticipated because Jared got sick. She'll come in tomorrow." - Oh, wow. "But why?" - Fucking hell. Your vulnerable expression and that faint whisper had Hopper's stomach shrinking with guilt. - "I can just stay around and help out with... With organizing stuff or cleaning."

"One'd say you'd give anything to leave this hell hole early." - James muttered back, desperately trying to stay strong. There were many unsaid thoughts and tangible tension neither had the balls to address. - "You'll have time to say goodbye to your friends and family, and you might be in time for one last summer party at Harrington's." "... Not funny." "I'll provide you with immunity for your last days in Hawkins - feel free to throw up on my car as much as you want. In exchange for a promise you won't wreck my town the next time you return." - It was meant to be a joke given Hopper's tone, but you didn't even scoff. Just ten days ago, you sprawled over the cushy chair and giggled. Now, you looked like you were ready to crumble. "Sounds too good to be true." "Well, it ain't." - Hopper stood up while drying his hands on his pants. With a martyred expression, you repeated his actions, offering him a palm. You looked startling despite being hunched over, flustered, eyes glassy and lips pressed into a thin line. His grip was tight, his palms rough - you could feel your skin prickling at all the places it touched his.

"As the Chief of the Hawkins Police Department, it's my duty and honor to thank you for your diligent service in the last month. Everything you've accomplished was... Nothing short of spectacular." - Blowing up your cheeks, the discomfort of the ongoing situation started growing too strong for your liking. It was bullshit, a bunch of utter fucking bullshit. Calling him out for said bullshit wouldn't accomplish anything, you knew so... But you were tempted to fight back. Hopper wasn't nice like that to anyone. Calling off your punishment early just because you 'earned it'? Sacking you right after you made progress and started actually liking the job? What load of mumbo-jumbo was that? It was 'the night'. More so, whatever you said during 'the night'. It ate Hopper up, so much so he couldn't stand you anymore. 'Good work' your ass. "Thank you, sir, I appreciate it." "My pleasure, miss Y/L/N." "Anything else you want to discuss?" "That'd be all. Thank you." - Looking away from you, Hopper sat back down with a long sigh. You'd leave quickly, but dwell in the doorframe for a bit before turning back at him. "Hopper?" - No sir, Chief, or other cheap names. Just his surname rolling off your tongue, just how Hopper liked it. His eyes found you immediately as he hummed and nodded. - "If I'll need a reference for getting a part-time job... Can I enter your contact?" "Go for it, kid." "Thanks." - And like that, you were gone.

The watergates, thankfully, broke after leaving Hopper's office. You've been shaken by the confrontation for a reason, the feeling of betrayal settling heavily in your chest. Only then, standing in the dead silent hall with tears running down your face you realize how much you grew to love the summer job. The people working in Hawkins PD meant so much to you. Flashes of memories and bits of chats emerged in your mind, most filled with laughter and playful banter. Despite the job lasting a month and a half, it'd been filled with embarrassment, adventure, and sudden thrill. And, well... With a very unexpected and very embarrassing crush. Not a heart-throbbing, existence-changing crush but a more subtle, almost unnoticeable one nonetheless. One might be inclined to rather call it a peak of interest.

Powell and Callahan, your work besties, watched as you animatedly dropped on the chair in your small cupboard, drying off the tears before anyone saw them. And yet... They noticed. These two noticed everything. "Are you good, girl?" - Powell murmured, leaning his shoulder in the door frame. Given the soft expression, it was a rhetorical question. Callahan was right there with him, offering you a cup of soda. And fuck, you craved something sweet, so you tore the cup out of his hand. "No." - Whaling silently, you shook your head, hunching over. "Wanna talk about it?" - The man pressed on, lowering into a squat. A true father at heart. "Hopper just sacked me. How can you lay off someone who isn't even working here?" "Sorry to hear that." - Callahan joined in, taking Powell's place at the door frame. "But it doesn't make any fucking sense. It was his condition for letting me off scot-free and now he lays me off? Where's the point in that? Am I the butt of some joke? It doesn't make any sense." - No matter how you turned it, James Hopper didn't make sense that day, and neither did his behavior. Powell clicked his tongue and patted your shoulder, rolling his eyes. Typical Hopper behavior, that one. No one expected to see a genuine shock on your face though.

"Sometimes things just don't make any damn sense, girl. Don't say this would make a champ like you crumble, huh?" "But..." - You argued, gasping for air, drying off fresh tears. "No buts or ifs. Things won't always make sense, especially when it comes to Hopper. I wouldn't doubt he'll call you in tomorrow because the PD starts to fall apart without its secretary." - The man cooed, being the national treasure of fathers. Both men before you cared a great deal, that could've been felt from the interaction. Despite the length of your stay, bonds and relationships were created. Shame the same couldn't be said about Hopper. "Doubt that, Flo's coming back tomorrow. Shame you don't need me anymore, your scenario sounds funnier." - And there you were, the infamous rascalous smile on your lips back.

"That's bullshit and we both know so." - Callahan joined in, bumping his palm to your shoulder. - "The PD'll miss you. You made administration work seamless, you played poker like a boss..." "... Baked killer apple pies." - Powell muttered. "And let's not forget how you danced around, brewing coffee while dancing and singing along to the Romantics. God help us all when Hopper gets to know." - Callahan finished, all of you scoffing. Those mornings were lovely, creating nice memories. "We're in deep if he finds out." - Powell agreed. "Hopper's just being Hopper... Don't let his moody brooding bring you down. Wanna grab lunch, you two?" - Callahan'd ask, tapping his wristwatch. Ah year, it was lunch break day - a day when you'd take your lunch break at the same time, all hop into a car, and drive to grab a burger at Benny's. Both you and Powell nodded simultaneously, grabbing your stuff before walking out, talking lively.

Hopper stayed inside, watching as you all got into the patrol car while chatting - well, you and Callahan sang while Powell tried finishing his sentence, scoffing at your clownery. Hopper smoked and listened to the dead silent office. He wasn't lying. Jared caught a cold, so Florence decided to cut her vacation short. The woman also informed Hopper she'd be glad if you stayed in the office as an assistant - only if you agreed. This was Callahan's doing, actually - that fucker picked up the other phone and started singing praises at your work. He painted you as an actual angel. Florence laughed, only muttering 'Oh, I told y'all so'. Watching you leave felt strange. Uncomfortable. Despite knowing he'd see you later in the afternoon, seeing you leave hit heavily. How was he supposed to keep it cool once you'll disappear for good?

His fingers found the photography of Sara hidden inside his desk, rubbing its corners with his fingers as he usually did when anxiety got too bad. The plan for the evening was clear - Tuinal, a few bottles of bourbon, and some good ol' Jim Croce to accompany him. It'd be a short-term solution for long and deep-rooted trouble, undoubtedly a road to self-destruction. However, James Hopper found it impossible to change.

You'd come home to a lively house - Steve was over along with Tommy, another friend of Aiden's. The trio occupied the living room, watching a football game with your father, all deeply occupied by it. Steve, you loved, deeply, platonically - as a younger brother. Tommy? Fucking hell, you hated that jerk to bits. The last time you'd met his girlfriend you suspected they were cousins. That guy was boring as shit and so unfunny it hurt. Why was your brother friends with him, you couldn't decipher. "Oh, hi." - Your mom popped out of nowhere, smoothing your shoulder as she joined you in the kitchen. - "Are you okay, honey? You look tired." "Mhm, yeah. It's just... Huh..." - You scoffed, trying to figure out how to put it. - "Chief Hopper sacked me, told me not to come in tomorrow." "What happened?" - She'd ask silently, her voice alluding to the question she'd really meant to ask - 'What did you do?' and 'He surely didn't let you go just because'. "Beat me to it. He called me in, told me I've done a remarkable job, explained Flo's coming back tomorrow, and said he has high hopes for me to sort everything out before leaving for Indianapolis." "Ah." - A soft, sympathetic sigh and a supportive pat on your back. - "Wanna help with dinner?" "Sure. I'll just change my clothes."

While you and Mom cooked, the rest still remained occupied with football. Harrington noticed you when Lady scurried over to get a proper pet, following her to chat. This time, it wasn't anything embarrassing but rather sweet - the boy was concerned about your noticeable distress. Tommy, as usual, leaned to Aiden and started whispering something. You knew exactly what it was, grunting and eye-rolling annoyedly. "What's up?" - Steve wondered, leaning into the kitchenette with Lady's head on his thigh. She was drooling all over his baseball shorts without a care. Harrington didn't care either and continued caressing her head absentmindedly. "I just don't understand why you talk to that guy." "Tommy's not that bad, he just likes to show off. Has a lot to deal with at home." "You two might be dumb as rocks, but at least you're nice. That asshole? He's fucking insufferable. I'd love to punch that smile off his face. How's his cousin?" "Who?" "Carol." "She's his girlfriend, Y/N." - Steve argued, but couldn't stop grinning. "Doesn't mean she can't be his cousin, y'know." "You're just saying that because you don't like them." "... I'm just saying you can do better. Both of you." - Sighing, you'd open the cupboard to start setting the dinner - Steve, however, beat you to it. He'd grab all the plates without a sweat, setting them on the table without asking.

"You clearly need a day off." - The boy explained. Your mom was smiling as she watched you interact, clearly invested in the idea of Steve Harrington becoming your prince charming... Despite all the times you've turned him down. - "Seems like Hopper's really lying to you." "Well, not anymore." "Did something happen? Did I do something?" "Oh, no. I got sacked, actually." "Can I help you anyhow?" "Doubt it, Harrington. Thanks, though." "It's not all bad, y'know? Gives you some time to relax and let go, pack your things, and deal with dead ends. Aiden and I thought about going to Delaware's drive-in for movies tomorrow... And you're invited." - Steve scoffed upon hearing your drained sigh, shaking his head. - "Not as a date, knucklehead. It's just... We usually spend a lot more time together during the summer. Aiden whined about missing you the last time we set out to the pool." - Judging by the look in his eyes, Steve wasn't lying. You and Aiden were a killer polo combo - one that usually won the summer tournaments. - "And even though I know it sounds cringe coming from me, I missed you a great bunch too. What do you say? Just like the old times?" "Before you started acting like a damn Romeo, you mean?" "Yeah." - Steve smiled, knowing you swallowed the bait. "No Tommy or Carol allowed?" "On my honor." "I'll think about it, yeah?" "Okay." - With one last warm smile, you'd continue setting the table. Steve Harrington wasn't always embarrassing you. In moments of enlightenment, he'd show his true colors of a decent, empathetic man hiding inside the King of Hawkins High. And that was the Steve you grown to know and love.

To take some steam off, you layed down on your bed with your eyes closed. With your walkman blasting ABBA, you had at least thirty minutes to think about the day's events. This threw you right back to the PD and Hopper's sudden turn. While Callahan said 'Hopper doesn't make sense', it wasn't true. In actuality, James Hopper made a whole bunch of it with bits and pieces of context. The longer you thought of it, the more you were assured it was 'the night'. You must've cut real fucking deep and personal for his behavior growing as cold as it had. That was when it clicked.

You must've brought up your knowledge of Sara at some point. That was one of the possibilities, but the only one truly connecting the dots. His interactions with you held meaning now, every look and word underlying with unspoken emotion and thought. And believe you, Hopper avoided you like the black plague, so these interactions were a rarity. You could count them on the fingers of your hand, so you remembered every fucking word. The man didn't hate you, not exactly. If he hated you, he wouldn't stress your interactions as much - it would be more straightforward, executed without a thought. On the other hand, it was fucking impossible to determine Hopper's emotions, just like Florence said before.

What have you learned about Hopper so far? Who was he? How did he react? What was his view of the world? Addiction. Pain turned into aggression. Self-destructive tendencies. Burning bridges on his accord, forcing his rules to stay in control. At last, Hopper hadn't given a flying fuck about the outsiders looking and commenting on his personal life and struggles. How did you manage to crawl under his skin, then? You must've broken him to pieces somehow, with whatever you said or did. This led to one logical conclusion. Hopper cared to some extent. He cared about you enough to evict you from his life early just so he wouldn't suffer later. The man tried to stay in control by making you disappear. Was it a distress call? A silent plea for help? And what if it fucking was? Oh God, you groaned as you realized. He was a fucking child. Self-centered stupid fucking idiot, self-destructing per usual. It'd be easier to just talk instead of Hopper acting out. And yet, there you were.

Before thinking it through, you hastily put on your flannel shirt as you pushed necessities into your bag, walkman still on blast. "Hey!" - Your Mom cried out as you rushed down the stairs, putting on your shoes frantically. - "What's the rush? Dinner's on the table." "Sorry, I'll skip today. I forgot something and need to deal with it before it's too late." - Kissing her on the cheek, you'd hug her half-assedly. Then, you'd shove your keys down your bag, checking if you were all set. "Can I ride you anywhere?" - It wouldn't be Steve if he wouldn't try being a gentleman. "No! It's fine. You guys go on with your dinner, hope the spaghetti turned out well. If you have leftovers, leave them in the kitchen for me." - And with that, you giddily jumped down the stairs, setting out on your bike, driving down Maple at the speed of light. - "Don't wait up! I'll come home tomorrow!" "Tomorrow? Did you hear her?" - Your Mom muttered, looking over at your dad with confusion. Despite your age, you still lived under her roof - meaning you'll abide by her rules. Your Dad was way calmer in this regard. - "I clearly said she's under house arrest until the end of summer break." "Molly..." - His tone quiet and serious, Dad turned your Mom back toward the dinner room, leading her forward. - "Let it go. Let's eat." "... What the hell even happened?" "She's an adult and I'm sure she'll explain when she comes back tomorrow." - He cooed, bringing over the pot of spaghetti. The three youngsters were already sitting - Aiden looking out the window with a furrow, trying to figure out what on Earth had you acting up like this.

The clock showed shortly after eight o'clock as you slipped off your bike, leading it through the unlocked door of the PD. Someone was still in. And it wasn't hard to guess who. The main hub was empty. Most of the policemen were far gone. Light emitted from Hopper's office. This discrepancy came with ruckus, music, and drunkard singing. Bracing yourself in the dark hallway, you stood around with palms on your hips, trying to figure out how to approach the situation. Hopper was fickle and temperamental. The best approach was to join him in the office to see the best approach.

You'd find him vibing in the middle of the office space. The desk was violently pushed forward to create a dancefloor for the drunkard to slumber over. And fuck... James Hopper was out of it. He'd been barely standing in the middle of the room with a bottle of bourbon in his palm, his legendary hat slipped into the middle of his face, uniform undone and tugged out, belt loosened and skin paler than usual. From where you've been standing, you saw four bottles of varying alcohol - hinting at a really shit hangover the following morning. Accompanying the alcohol, there were two half-emptied tubes of Tuinal and an undone pack of cigs. All the papers that were usually neatly sorted in folders wallowed over the floor and chairs were thrown to the floor too. Whatever 'it' was, Hopper was going straight through 'it'. The man didn't flinch when you parted the door and leaned in, watching him with a pitiful expression. Hearing muffled, vision surely blurred, the dancing moves of a desperate, depressed sixty-year-old... Fuck, this could've been possible alcohol poisoning you'd have on your hands.

"Well, don't you look like a ray of sunshine?" - Based on how Hopper's body pulled, you spooked him. His eyes tried to decipher which one of the four Y/Ns was real. You, on the other hand, started cleaning up and checked the office's window was locked. The office looked and smelled fucking rancid, having your nose crinkle at the smell. And Hopper wasn't doing much better, sweating his ass off.

"Y-you're not supposed to be here." "Am I not, now?" - Scoffing, you'd shake your head while pulling the chairs off the floor. - "And you're not supposed to be blackout drunk at your workplace. If you hadn't noticed, you're the Chief of police and you're setting a shit fucking example." "You're supposed to be gone." "From where exactly?" "Here. Hawkins... My life." - He'd mutter confusedly, gawking at you like you weren't real. "So that's what all the dramatics were about?" - Oh, he'd struck a fucking nerve. Let's say you weren't away from slapping the alcohol out of his system. - "You are such a self-indulged dick." "Are you ever nice to others, you little shit?" "Oh, I'm a total babe when others don't act like dicks. Try asking Powell or Callahan." "Y'know what? I'm exhausted from your psych evals. You said plenty enough last time. Time for you to go." - Hopper pointed at the door as if you'd budge. Sneering, you put your palms on your sides again, straightening up.

"Had you stopped and thought that maybe you deserved a piece of the humble pie? That you're acting like a dick?" "Every goddamn day, you can't imagine." - Now, he was hovering over you, sending that smelly breath into your face.  The stench alone got you drunk too. - "Why do you think it was so fucking hard for me to even look at you? You sit there all day, every day, so preppy and nice, smiling like you know everything." - This took all the wind from your sails as you stared at him, the orange tube from Tuinal in your palm. "Why didn't you say something?" "Why didn't I..?" - Hopper scoffed ironically. - "Had you seen yourself?" "What does it have to do with anything?" "You're young with perspective, the sweetest lil' thing runnin' around Hawkins. What am I next to you? A depressed forty-year-old who peaked in high school, with anger and addiction issues. At least that's what you said the last time you brought all this shit up." "And was I right?" - You whispered, raising your eyes to meet Hopper's. Sparks of electricity were flying left and right, you realized. Your fingers started trembling, your lips drying as your eyes slipped to his mouth. The chemistry started working. "Do you enjoy grilling the everliving shit out of me?" - The man whispered in answer, drunkardly stumbling over. He'd leaned palms into the desk, his nose just inched from yours. "Depends on the mood." "Little shit." "Do you enjoy being roasted?" "... I might from certain people." "Let me clean the office, then." "Wanna dance?" "After I clean up."

Moving methodically, you checked if all the doors and windows were locked properly and if the main hub was more or less usable for the next day. While at it, you also extracted your Romantics tape from the PD's radio. Hopper's office was a mess, no matter the angle of approach. The man was also a mess, sitting on your favorite plushy chair with a glass of water and a cig in his right palm. "Seriously, kid. Why are you here? You should be anywhere but here, with anyone but me." - Exhaling loud, Hopper's eyes found you. They were as blue as usual, but the dark circles enhanced it. "Does 'I don't know' satisfy your curiosity?" "You don't know?" "Came home, cooked dinner, chatted with Harrington and while so, I thought about what the fuck your attitude meant. We're used to you being a dick, but you've outdone yourself, Hopper. Then I figured you might be struggling and ran looking for you. Why? No fucking clue." - Explaining, you leaned your ass into his desk, sighing too. - "I don't fucking know why I'm here, just know I don't want to see you struggle alone." "So what now? You're my righteous savior? Do you want a medal?" "The fuck you... I'm here because I care about you, you dick. Do you care listen for at least one minute?" - The final hiss finally put Hopper's vigilance to sleep. He'd scoff in disbelief, looking down on his boots while scratching the nape of his neck. "What's that?" "What's what?" "That tape of yours." "Well, you said you wanna dance." - You explained, walking over to the radio in his cabinet. - "But didn't say to what." - Pressing play, you'd offer Hopper a hand, nodding your head with a grin.

Starting off strong, Night Like Started playing. You danced like anyone was watching, making Hopper chuckle - and smiles suited him. He'd join in, his moves limited thanks to all the alcohol he'd drunk. "So the tune's okay I take it?" - You'd ask while turning around, his palm holding yours tightly. "Mine's better." - The jerk chipped in. "Whatever, jackass."

Dancing with Hopper shouldn't have been as enjoyable as it was. Just the possibility of holding his waist and swaying with laughter should've disgusted you. And yet, there you were, theatrically singing along, chest-to-chest, feeling his body moving under yours. During the second song, the man put his infamous hat on the top of your head and fixed a few strands of hair behind your ear. "Oh." - You'd mumble when Talking In Your Sleep came on. - "You'll like this one." "Already do." "You know the Romantics?" "Aside from the songs being on the radio all the damn time?" - James scoffed, snaking his arm around your waist. - "Did you think I don't know about the damn tape?" "Fuck." - Readjusting the hat on your head, you'd look back at him. The main tune drowned the office in joyful ruckus as you stopped moving, just talking. Your hands splayed on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat. Blood started rushing to your cheeks as the atmosphere shifted. "You're looking at one of New York's best former detectives, sweetheart. And... The music's fine, don't worry about it."

"New York's best, huh?" "Been some time, but you bet your ass I was. Bet I'd steal your breath away, I was handsome back then. Not the trainwreck you know." - Hopper explained and in an attempt to end the topic, he'd try swaying, his hands dipping carefully low on your back with a handful of your shirt in both his palms. You wouldn't budge, just palm his uniform and furrow at him. "What?" "Y-you still do, Hopper." "Do what?" "That's why I'm here, I think. You stole my breath away." "Don't say that." "Why not? "You'd start a dangerous game, youngblood." "Seems you'd enjoy the game too. "I'm glad you're here." "You scream trouble, Jim Hopper." - It was here. The romantic moment when he'd lean in and kiss you. His eyes jumped between your lips and eyes. You'd tiptoe while dragging his lips closer, eyes fluttering excitedly. That when he... Blurped, covering his mouth before running off to vomit into his bin. Fuck. So close. So close yet so far away.

"Alright, you, that means no more dancing." - Turning off the radio, you'd pull the tape, pushing it into your bad. Then, you'd pat Hopper's back pitifully. - "What you need now is to go home." "You're probably right." "I'll give you a ride and stay the night. We'll give you a nice cold shower, make you some dinner, tuck you in, and have some bed rest. Sounds good?" "Whatever you say, kid." "Stop calling me kid." "Why?" - He wondered as you pulled his arm around your shoulder, leading him out of the station toward his Blazer. "Imagine calling me kid when you fuck me. Gross." "Ooooh." - The man stopped in his tracks, looking down at you - his cheeks reddened, pupils dilated as he put all his energy into raising his hand. Hopper carefully ran his thumb on your jaw before toying with your lower lips while you stood in the dark, silent hallway. - "Someone's ahead of themselves. That what you wanna do?" "Let's say... We talk about it when you're sober, huh?" "Sure, ma'am." "See? Sounds leagues better."

Making sure Hopper's ass was leaning into the hood of his Blazer was a grueling fucking task. His dead weight leaned into you, making it impossible to drag him by. The guy couldn't even walk straight, that's how pissed into oblivion he was. "Alright, big guy... Where are the keys?" "No idea, little lady." "Hopper, stop fucking around. Where are the keys?" "Guess you'll have to look." - Muttering, Hopper raised his palms to his head, sending you the most devilish grin ever seen on a man. Sighing, you massaged the bridge of your nose before approaching him. Thank God it was 9pm and you lived in a small town. The traffic was dead, not a person in sight - most were out for parties or summer break with their children. Even Melvald's was closed. "You're acting like a child." - With that, you started going through pocket after pocket, starting with the breast pockets before moving down to his trousers. "Might as well take it all off." - Hopper whispered, clearly just taking the piss out of you. Despite the situation, you couldn't but chuckle dryly. "And let the entirety of Hawkins see your buttcheeks? I'll spare them from such a terrible fate, I think." "But you wanna see 'em." "In private and due time, Chief." - Finally, your fingers brushed the keyring hidden in the back pocket of his trousers. Victoriously, you'd fish them out and bump the hat back on Hopper's head. - "Get in, big guy."

It'd take Hopper the entire time you'd check the office, pack his cigs, and your bike into his turn before he'd climb into the passenger's wheel. And despite that, you'd have to help him settle down and fasten his seatbelt. "You doing alright?" "Yeah." - Hopper sighed, patting your shoulder while tiredly closing his eyes and leaning his head back. "Do you wanna vomit again?" "Think I got most of it out in the office." "Get ready for a rancid smell tomorrow morning." "Not my first rodeo." "That's what I thought."

You prayed on Hopper not falling asleep on you - you wouldn't carry his ass back inside his trailer. The man was too tall and too heavy for you. Thankfully, he wasn't as lightweight as you were. He'd hum along with the radio with his eyes closed, relaxing as you drove. Hopper needed to admit you were a good driver, smoothly handling the car, and abiding by the regulations. As he inspected the profile of your face, Hopper's heart skipped a beat. When was the last time he felt like this? Normal? Like there was more to life than the endless vortex of despair and darkness? His mental state had been in a bad spot for a long enough time. Depression and self-destruction were a daily part of Hopper's life for years now and each day felt like a lifetime sentence. Day after day, he wished he wouldn't wake up. He had moments when the weight on his chest grew lighter and he got better, but those passed so quickly... And there you were - the person he dreaded the most sitting beside him, skillfully handling the shift lever with a concentrated expression. Not thinking, Hopper palmed your hand, earning a quick glance as you entered the dirt road in the woods. His fingers carefully caressed your knuckles. You'd switch the position to keep in charge of the driving, entwining his fingers with yours absentmindedly. This simple contact sent jitters down his spine.

"Should I pull over? Need to puke?" "No." "You alright?" "Just glad I'm not alone." - It was a mere whisper, one he hoped you wouldn't hear. You didn't answer but definitely reacted - a silent scoff and a soft grin. You'd squeeze his palm lightly before concentrating on the dark woods ahead. Parking next to the trailer, you'd both sit in the car, looking ahead in silence.

"Have I mentioned the Lover's Lake looks nice from here?" - You wondered, looking over at Hopper. Alluding what was on your mind, you started taking off your flannel shirt. Hopper's eyes shot open wide. - "How about we go for a swim?" - Sending him a sultry grin, you'd hop out the Blazer to kick off your shoes, roll your socks down, and push your pants down in a fell swoop. Hopper was lost in staring at you as if he hadn't seen a woman before. - "What do you say, big guy?" "A swim? Now?" "Yeah, now, Hopper. Just kick your shoes off, dude." "But..." "What are you? Sixty? C'mon, big guy."

Leaving the car, your smile widened. His t-shirt covered your elbows and reached down to your thighs, your hair framing your face in the car's reflectors. He must've been losing his mind as his body reacted to your retreat like a magnet - he followed your example and started undressing until he remained in his briefs and the white t-shirt he usually wore under the uniform. By the time Hopper stumbled to the lake, you'd already hovered in the warm water, swimming with the water reaching your chin. Noticing him on the shore, you'd swim to him to catch his palms, leading him along.

"Water's nice." - Hopper realized to his surprise. It was years, even decades since he last swam in the Lover's Lake. How old could've he been? Seventeen? Eighteen? It must've been back when he and Chrissy Carpented screwed around. Even now that he lived by the lake, he preferred to look at it rather than take a swim. "Mhm. It'll help with the..." - Before you caught Hopper's intention, he'd jump to deep dive, dragging you along. Reflexively, your hands circled around his neck and your body brought him closer so you wouldn't drown. - "With the hangover, you dick." - You laughed when you swam up, both slicking hair out of your faces. You remained chest-to-chest, grinning. Waiting until the moment was right, you'd repay the favor, jump on his neck, and drag him under the water. You remained underwater, looking each other in the eye while listening to the alien, strange clicking. Clothes and hair flew about, air bubbles tickled on your face but all you could see? The spark in Hopper's eyes. One you hadn't seen before. You'd catch his arm in yours, fighting your body's natural urge to float up. When you'd find his palm, you'd squeeze his fingers with yours. When you felt the moment was right, you'd bring his palm to your face, feeling as it slipped to the back of your neck on its own accord.

Hopper's eyes darted over your face in desperate search of any fucking alarm that'd be going off inside you. And yet, he was only met with green lights - such as the supportive smile on your face, your knee clumsily bumping into his side and your other palm reaching for his jaw too. You shouldn't have been as stupid as to fool around with the local Chief of police, you should've been smart enough to stay away and not ensure he's good. Right now, you should've been lying in your bed, pissed beyond belief. Instead, you hypnotized him with your eyes and lulled him with your warmth, making him feel like a normal human being instead of trash beyond salvaging. You made Hopper feel like a man worthy of love and patience. A man who could've been saved and absolved of his sins and wrongdoings.

Kissing you wasn't earth-shattering, but it unloaded a bomb of warmth inside Hopper's chest. It wasn't a proper kiss either - it was just a peck on the lips, something only middle schoolers would deem a proper kiss. The man swore he'd make it up for you after a shower and cleaning his teeth. You'd swim up while kissing, both heavily gasping for air. It was a memorable first kiss at least, you liked to think. Very cutesy and sweet. If you'd been told a month ago you'd be eagerly imagining kissing the biggest asshole in Hawkins' history... You'd presume it was just a joke. But there you were, leading Hopper out of the lake by the hand.

"Feeling better now, big guy?" "To hell with it, I am." - Hopper admitted, not letting your hand go. - "What's on the agenda, boss?" "A shower and something to eat?" "You're a goddamn heaven-sent." "Go ahead. I'll cut the engine and carry the clothes inside." - As you said, so Hopper did. While he'd cleaned himself up, you changed into a set of fresh clothes, cleaning the mess Hopper accumulated all over the trailer - tidying up dishes from the rack, throwing out empty cans and cigarette packs, and most importantly, airing the trailer. All windows were wide open, just like the porch door. Just as you got to preparing Hopper and yourself an omelet, he'd get out of the shower - standing in the bathroom doorframe with nothing but a towel around his waist. Despite trying not to stare, you'd eye him down with an empty gulp and lips parted. James Hopper was a fucking beefcake, especially looking at you like he was ready to devour you.

"Look who the cat dragged in." - Grinning into the pan, you'd feel Hopper's eyes scanning you back. Having you walk around in his clothes might've been one of the most pleasurable views of all Hawkins. - "How we feelin'?" "Whatever magic you used, it worked. I feel good." "You seem more sober too, I'm glad. The hangover'll be good." "Someone's been stealing." - The man stated, tugging on the back of his 'Go Tigers!´ t-shirt. - "Have you returned the one I lent you last time?" "Get off my back." "You looked great in it." "You noticed?" "Mhm." - Hopper scoffed, leaning into the kitchen counter to watch your bum swaying around in his briefs. Despite his palm itching to smack it, he crossed his arms on his chest. - "Had me thinking about stuff." "Humor me this, Hopper." - Turning around, you raised a pair of kitchen utensils. Then, you'd put his omelet on a plate, adding two slices of toasted bread. On the table, a cup of coffee and an ibuprofen were already waiting for him. - "When was the last time you cooked? Because all these fucking pans in this kitchen are brand new." "They aren't." - Hopper bickered, sitting down to eat up. Not saying a word, you'd just wave the undone packaging in front of his face. - "Okay, I'll admit, it's been a while."

Taking the first bite, Hopper groaned a bit. It's been a while since anyone cooked him a proper dinner. Usually, he took his one-night stands to hit the bistro for some burgers before moving on. And well... Despite cooking a dish as simple as an omelet with cheese (basically the only two ingredients you've found in his fridge), it ran for the best dish Hopper had in 1983. "To hell with it. I didn't know someone in Hawkins cooks better than me." "You're such a liar." "Am I now?" - Hopper muttered, sipping on the coffee. You truly were a heaven-sent. "First, you say you're handsome and now claim you can cook? Oh, please." "So, you think I'm ugly?" - Hopper watched as you sat opposite him, leaning your knee into the table, and started eating - a shit-eating grin on his face. It was addicting to watch you get flustered, scoffing breathily as you smiled, running your tongue on your lips as you thought about the answer. "I haven't said that either, Hopper." "... So she thinks I'm handsome." "You're a fucking prick." "And you're into it." "Shut up." - You scoffed, finally eating some good fucking food.

Once Hopper was ready to hit the sack, you'd tug him as promised - even kissing his forehead with a cocky grin. "If you need anything, just cry out. I'll be right over." "Where are you going?" - Hopper wondered, pulling up on his elbows. Gliding across his chest and belly, you bit your lip - the fine hair on his chest and the happy hair on his belly had your mind running. Those baby-blue eyes, unkempt beard, and hair slicked back... How could you work inside the same building and never notice? Because James had you wrapped around his fucking finger, out of nowhere, and just like that. "To clean up some more. I'll take the couch." "Don't be ridiculous. It's been a long day, c'mere." "Hopper..." "That couch is a back killer. I need to buy a new one. We've already slept here and nothing happened, don't worry." "Worry?" - Shaking your head, your scoff was rich as fuck. - "What's there to worry about? There's nothing you'd do that hadn't crossed my mind already, Hop." "Well then..." "Let me just turn off the light and bring you a glass of water. Will you need the bucket?" "No. Make it quick, I'm getting cold in here." "Stick that up your ass, Hopper."

Just two minutes later, when you'd bring both a glass of water, Hopper already dropped dead. You'd climb under the blanket, positioning the pillow under your head so you could look at him. He remained lying on his back, one arm supporting his head and the other resting on his abdomen. He wasn't snoring yet, but you imagined it wouldn't take him too long. Laying restlessly next to him for a great portion of the night, you just watched over him, thinking about the night's events. Twists and turns, such you wouldn't see coming in your wildest dreams - ones you couldn't believe despite lying right there. Eventually, you'd nuzzle closer and lean on his shoulder, thinking one little cuddle wouldn't hurt anyone.

Before you knew it, Hopper was facing you with his arm sloppily thrown over your side, your legs entwined with his. The rancid alcohol stench of his breath was a killer before you nuzzled closer to his chest, letting out a contained sigh. Everything about this felt natural, it felt good. One'd think you'll have the ick... But the closer Hopper's body was and the tighter he held you, the more real and better everything felt. He was still snoring, sleeping like a baby. Keeping you close was a reflex. When he wakes up, you might have a thing or two to explain... But that could fucking wait. You were too lazy to wiggle out of his arms and too comfortable to let go of his body heat. As you drifted to sleep, you'd peck his lips for the last time, throwing your knee over his hip.

That's how the story of the Red Riding Hood and the Wolf continued. And unlike Hopper, you hoped it'd lead to more.

[16reapergrell66]

Kisses Under the Holly

It's the Winter Ball. Lucio had some help in the designing, but not the venue. Welcome to Loch Durgess, a small town known for lively festivities. Wyverne is a giddy woman, excited to see his face when they get to Chapel Whitehaven. Lucio has something planned, his feelings finally giving way during the festivities.

This my first 🍋, please bear with me! I'm tagging @queenofeden, @firewolf3473, @kidlightnings, @missantichrist, @athousandstarstodreamon. Enjoy my lovelies!

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It was all so strange, how Lucio readily agreed to do this. How strange it was to accept her thoughts on the decorations and food, how easily he had said yes to her ideas of holiday themed drinks. He was normally the party planner, the decorator, interior designer. All parties were his ideas, but he had let some of that control slip when Wyverne asked if he had wanted help one night, when he was hunched over his desk scribbling out different ideas and rehashing others. He had readily agreed; after all, she was his Court Magician. 

A few weeks later, on a cool day in Vesuvia, they all left just before dawn. Somewhere along the way, as the sun started to kiss the sky, it had started to change into soft snow and cold temperatures. It had turned so chilly that fine winter morning, the sun glinting on white snow. Snow drifted along the cold breeze, making playful curlicues along the ground. The carriage glistened in the cold sun, leaving tracks behind in the soft snow. Lucio had muttered something about hating the cold, softly pouting out the window, watching it fog with his warm breath.

"Oh, My Lord, it's not that bad," Wyverne had told him, an amused smirk on the corners of her lips. She had perched her elbow on her knee, leg crossed under her skirts. Her chin rested on her hand, curled up underneath, to support it.

"Only with you, snack cake," Lucio told her with a small huff and an amused chuckle. He was dressed in his best, a long, fur-trimmed cape around his shoulders instead of the usual elongated, fur-trimmed capelet he wore.

"I think this was a grand idea, Wyverne," Nadia said, an amused smile on her lips. She, too, was in her best, her legs crossed under her fur-lined skirts.

"Well, that's Lil' Spitfire. Always having good ideas," Mephistopheles smiled, stretching long limbs every which way. He considered his outfit his 'okayest', even though everyone else insisted it was his best.

The scenery outside had started to gradually change, making Lucio shift in his seat and look with more interest. What was once a dense grove of pine trees gave way to sparse woodland, opening up to lush meadows of pillowy soft snow that stretched for miles. Houses littered the meadows every so often, smoke lazily drifting from chimneys. Wyverne shifted in her seat, eyes bright with joy, gripping her brother's left shoulder and practically bouncing in her seat. He just smirked, giving his sister a look they both knew well. She bit her full bottom lip, not wanting to spoil any wonderful surprises they had in store.

The carriage came to a slow stop in the deep snow, the horses pawing eagerly at the ground, warm steam escaping their noses. Mephisto went out first, the slightly slimmer Lucio doppelganger climbing over limbs to open the door, stepping out into the brisk chill. He took a deep breath, exhaling softly, forming his own little cloud. He stepped aside, extending his hand to help the rest out of the carriage. Azlingua, meanwhile, had started to take the luggage from the back of the carriage. 

Azlingua Lochland was in her sixties, though she did not look a day over forty. Her deep black hair was starting to show signs of her age, steel grey wires peeking through the dense inkiness. Her skin was fair, and covered with just as much freckles as Wyverne, in the exact same places--cheeks, nose, collarbones, and shoulders. Her eyes shone with a youth that seemed to belie her age, and as gray as a coming storm.

"Wy, come help me!" Her voice was coarse, and worn with age. She grunted, taking one of the suitcases out of the back. Wyverne immediately moved from Lucio's side, having come out just moments after him. She placed her hands next to Azlingua's, and the two of them lifted the heavy suitcase out of the back, setting it into deep snow. The next few came easily, as Julian and Portia finally left the carriage. Mephisto then walked over, expertly slinging Lucio and Nadia's things over his shoulders. Wyverne followed suit, grinning as she ran after her brother, skirts smoothing any tracks behind her. Lucio and Nadia followed close behind, with Asra and Muriel behind them, and the Devoraks bringing up the rear. Azlingua had easily fallen into Lucio's long strides, smirking softly at Wyverne and Mephisto.

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The village was warm, bright and inviting. People bustled this way and that, excited chatter amongst hushed voices and soft laughter. Carolers sung hymns, carried on soft voices that sounded like angels. Store bells jingled, hearty laughter and shanties rang from the bars. Mephistopheles walked along the street, following Azlingua. Wyverne had been pointing out must-sees and out-of-the-way stores, plucking them from memory. She eagerly answered Portia's equally eager questions, and playfully gave Lucio the runaround with his prying ones. Asra was up with Azlingua, asking some of the more important questions, while Julian kept stride with Mephisto and joked with him. Muriel stayed silent, slightly behind Nadia who kept trying to make conversation with him.

Then they saw it. A massive chapel that had been turned into a splendid dancing hall, when its former patrons abandoned it in fear of demons roaming the grounds. The stained glass was dark, the vibrant shades of color dulled and darkened. Gargoyles stood atop spires, sneering at anyone who dared look at them. The stone seemed to mourn its loss of holy patrons, dark and cold with barely a hint of religious joy. The bell in the belfry rang out, loud and strong, lighting the way to the time--eleven o'clock in a glorious chime.

"Sis, there it is!" Mephisto lit up, features glowing and eyes sparkling. He almost dropped one of the suitcases he had been carrying, lost in his own excitement. Flushed cheeks flushed even more, a smile on his thin lips.

"Tell me something I don't know you dense walnut!" There was a soft, breathless laughter at the end, the one thing she could do that stirred something within Lucio out in public. Her cheeks were just as flushed, full lips in a wide smile, haughty laughter bright as snow started to fall again.

They all set a brisker pace, each one with warmer thoughts on their minds. It didn't take long to reach the massive oak doors, and the Lochland siblings quickly set down the luggage. Mephistopheles placed his hand on the freezing metal knocker, and gave three loud, measured taps. As the last tap echoed into silence, something clicked and the doors swung open. Collective gasps of awe and shock came from everyone, and Lucio took a few steps inside.

Sure, Lucio had given her inputs a go-ahead, making sure everything was largely his idea. But the way he pictured this was blown apart the moment the doors opened. A large pine tree sat in the middle of the foyer, its tallest branches trying to stroke the ceiling. Ornaments of all shapes and sizes and colors sparkled in candlelight, garland wrapped around the tree with care. Candles were set every so often, lit by a magical flame so the tree, and any ornaments, wouldn't catch. Every archway had a garland, richly decorated with large ornaments and trinkets and toys.

Wyverne had set the luggage she was carrying aside, and grabbed his golden hand, eagerly taking him into what used to be the room for sermon. The carpet had been taken up, exposing a rich wood floor inlaid with a compass-like design in the center. Above their heads, the huge chandelier glistened, its candles lit and casting shimmering rainbows around the space. The balconies all had garland on them as well, and beneath them were boughs of hollyberry, resting above doorways. Chairs were along the east and west walls, set up for the weary dancer to take a rest should they need to.

Lucio had wandered into the middle of the space, golden boots softly clicking on the wood floor. His look of shock slowly melted into a signature smile, looking over his shoulder at Wyverne, who was trying her best to contain her excitement. There was more, and she was letting it all absorb before she moved onto other rooms.

"How in the world…?" It was Nadia, soft and in awe. Crimson eyes were wide, soft and pliant as she took in wonderful surroundings, her black flats making almost no noise. A hand was brought to her lips, the other laid against her bosom, the rich yet simple decorations taking her breath away.

"Ilya, look!" Portia had pointed to one of the hollyberry boughs, clutching his arm. Julian looked, and casually brought Portia under one of them. He reached up to touch the ripe red berries with his hand, barely brushing them with his fingertips.

Muriel and Asra were peeking into the side doors, trying to discover some secret before the others. Faust was draped across Asra's shoulders, her tongue blepping at Asra's ear. Azlingua chuckled at the two boys, and she disappeared into a dim stairwell, taking all the luggage with her.

"So….," Wyverne started, padding softly across to where Lucio stood. "Is everything to your standards so far, My Lord?" Wyverne was in front of him, bright eyes locking with his mischievous ones.

"Of course, snack cake. It's blown my expectations." He snuck an arm around her waist, drawing her closer. His golden gauntlet traced her jawline, lightly pulling at her lower lip. "But you know, I've asked you to call me Lucio ever since you took your position."

"And you'll have to tell me at least once more," Wyverne told him softly, breath catching in her throat. She should be used to this. He was always close to her, it was part of her position as Court Magician. She swallowed thickly, and gently moved away from him, his fingers lingering on her hip.

Wyverne softly cleared her throat, trying to shake whatever had stirred deep in her abdomen, and started to show off other rooms, all equally as grand and festive as the last. Mephistopheles had gone around, meeting up with them in the dining hall.

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"So, is everything up to expectations?" He had an amused smirk, casually leaning against a high-backed chair. His arms were crossed over his chest, the delicate suit fabric crinkling at the elbows.

"Oh, it's wonderful!!" Nadia was in delight. It was one of the few parties she had attended that Lucio had thrown that wasn't gaudy as hell. "How did you manage at such wonderful decorations?"

"Well, to be quite honest, Nadi," Wyverne started, hands clasped together behind her back to prevent fidgeting, gently rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. "My Lo--ah, Lucio had a hand in this. He readily took my advice, and we created the decorations together." She stumbled, trying to use his name like he asked and not his title.

"How absolutely lovely, Spitfire," Mephisto said, a smug little tease to his voice. "I wonder what else you--" His teasing remark was cut off, Wyverne's fingers pointed at his throat. 

"Watch it, you insufferable sack of boiled maggots," Wyverne warned, her magic being used to stop him from talking. She had a look on her face, a look that made Mephisto grow a wicked little grin.

"Aww, what's wrong Spitfire? Afraid of being found out?" He mouthed this, his grin growing wider and wider. His hands were up in a gesture of surrender, palms turned in a touch, fingers spread.

Wyverne felt her cheeks heat, the color rivaling that of her lipstick. Portia burst out into a fit of giggles, finding the situation hilarious. Nadia tried to stop herself, Portia's giggles being contagious. Asra had a slight smirk, if only to laugh with Portia and for no other reason. Wyverne went to hit his chest, breaking the spell on his voice, when Lucio grabbed her slender wrist with his flesh hand, his touch warm and soothing.

"Not yet, darling," he murmured into her ear, breath warm and lips soft. "We wouldn't want that pretty outfit to go to waste." His golden hand touched her side, cool even through the layers Wyverne wore.

She nodded, gently pulling herself from his grasp. She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth in a fleeting moment of thought, and smacked her brother in the arm instead,  wandering off to go cool her head. Something had stirred deep in her abdomen again, warm and tingling. She couldn't shake the feeling again, no matter how much she tried. It was a craving, she knew it was. What the craving was for, she couldn't name at the time.

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The ballroom was absolutely lively with nobles and common folk alike. Some danced, others stood by the wayside, chatting and drinking. Soft music played in the background, the tinkling of glasses gently echoing throughout the space. Some patrons stood under the hollyberry, daring each other to kiss under it.

Lucio was with Wyverne, casually leaning against the wall, drinking a deep red wine and casually flirting with her. He had a smug smirk, gently chuckling at something he found amusing. Gone was the long cape, and the thin gold capelet shone as it matched beautifully with his outfit. 

Mephistopheles was out dancing with Nadia, lips resting in her hair as she laid her head on his chest, quietly chatting as they waltzed around the ballroom. Julian and Portia were also dancing around the room, having fun with traditional Nevivon dances for the holidays. Asra was with Muriel, chatting in a corner and generally keeping each other company.

"You know," Lucio began, his flesh hand caressing her cheek, thumb brushing her lips. "I've been wondering, would you love a dance?" He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth, an eyetooth catching it just the right way to set off sparks in Wyverne's chest.

"I can't refuse the Count of Vesuvia," Wyverne answered, soft and bashful, a hand resting on his chest. Her fingers found the blue ribbon used to secure a gold medal around his neck, gently toying with the smooth silk.

Lucio set his glass down, and took her hand in his golden one, leading her to the floor. She followed his lead, heart leaping out of her chest at the mere thought of being so close to him. He stopped in the middle of the dancefloor, his flesh hand on her waist and his golden hand still clasping hers. Her free hand found his shoulder, trying to quiet her racing heart.

Lucio lead, his feet easily falling into the rhythm of the song. Wyverne followed him, moving where he moved, spinning when he spun her. He held her against his chest, her back against him, her arms gently crossed in front of her. His lips brushed her hair, her temple, her cheek, her neck where her pulse was just racing away. Lucio smirked against her skin, his breath tickling her.

"Ah, snack cake. You have no idea how I've longed to have you to me alone like this," he whispered against her skin. His lips were so close, his breath so warm it set her heart aflutter. "You've been so tempting to me, I've had to hold back."

Wyverne was righted, facing him again. She was held close to him, her cheeks flushed pink. She swallowed thickly, a lump forming in her throat that wasn't there before. She rested her head against his chest, listening to his heart as soft waves of warmth spread through her that wasn't the alcohol. His lips rested in her hair, his flesh hand having found her other hip and resting there. 

It wasn't long before she found herself at the edge of the dancefloor again, still wrapped up in Lucio. Wyverne looked up at him, a soft blush on her cheeks, warmed through by dancing with him. Lucio was so close to her already, his lips almost touching hers, that it wasn't a stretch when he decided. He leaned in a little further, his golden hand cupping her chin, soft lips brushing hers. Wyverne didn't quite register it at first, not until Lucio deepened the kiss, his hand finding its way to the back of her head. She touched his chest, allowing him to deepen the kiss, letting him part her lips to slip inside and taste her. She quietly moaned into the kiss, trying to keep up with him. Her hand touched his cheek, practically standing on tiptoe trying the deepen the kiss herself.

Lucio pulled away slowly, his breath tickling her lips. He chuckled gently, his eyes finding hers after a moment or two. He stroked her cheek, savoring the touch, letting his flesh hand smooth the hair away, and brush her soft lips. Wyverne, meanwhile, had forgotten how to breathe, her breath caught in her throat. Her lips were still slightly parted, his thumb just catching her tongue. She could feel every inch of him, even the outline of his hardening cock against her thigh.

"Meet me in the hall in ten minutes," he murmured, his hand brushing her hip now. She nodded, finally finding her breath. He kissed her one last time, finally parting from her warmth, the outline of his cock visible in his white dress pants.

Ten minutes passed, and Wyverne had enough time to slip out into a back hallway, safe save for an occasional prying eye. She leaned against the nearest wall, a warmth between her legs that wasn't there before Lucio had kissed her. She rubbed her thighs together, trying to get some friction. She slipped her hand up under her skirts, starting to play with her folds, already slick from barely anything happening.

The door opened, then closed, but she paid whoever came in no heed. Her fingers found her clit, and she began to tease, gently kneading the small bud between her fingers, trying to mimic what she thought he would do. She let out a soft keen, his name a desperate beg for something, anything, when she heard his chuckle right next to her ear.

"Well isn't this a pretty present?" Lucio reached between her legs, inserting his long, slender finger inside her warm, wet hole. "All for me….and so wet too. I wonder how you'd feel around my cock, desperate and begging for me to fuck you?" He made small come hither motions, crooking the end of his finger against her walls. She moaned, a soft whine that escaped her throat as he inserted another finger.

Lucio kissed her ear, nipping at the lobe as he slowly scissored his fingers inside of her, stretching and preparing her walls for his cock. He placed his knee between her legs, making her spread them wider. His lips followed her jawline, and moved down the side of her neck, leaving hot, openmouthed kisses in their wake. His canines scraped lightly against the thin skin of her throat, more kisses soothing what he had done.

Wyverne had slowly started to shed her layers, her need for him growing the longer he played with her. Off came the pale blue plaid, the one she had chosen to match Lucio, with running lines of silver and gold. As she started to take off the crushed velvet hoopskirt, Lucio pulled his fingers away, leaving her feeling empty. Lucio chuckled at her soft whine, making quite a show of suckling his fingers, giving himself a taste of her. She had tasted slightly like cranberry, the salt of her skin deepening what he had tasted and her natural musky scent only adding to her flavor.

"Mmm, so delicious. And I haven't even started, snack cake," he murmured into her ear, licking the outer shell as he unbuttoned himself. "Though, I think you'll find you love me on my knees."

Slowly, deliberately, he sank to his knees. Wyverne couldn't tear her eyes away, her emerald green almost lost among the black of her pupil. He lifted her skirts a little higher, placing one of her legs on his shoulder. He trailed his finger down over her slit, teasing her entrance with the barest touch.

Lucio leaned in closer, the tip of his nose against her folds, taking in her musky scent. He started with little kitten licks, barely there little laps of her. He explored her folds this way, smirking against her as she groaned for him. She wanted him to go faster, to take full laps of her, and she grabbed a handful of gorgeous blond. He skirted around her sensitive bud, his tongue lapping at her entrance. She tried to contain her little whimpers and moans, her hand tightening a little in his hair. He growled against her, making her gasp at the sound. He let his long tongue explore her wet hole, tasting every inch of her, grinning when she tried a fruitless attempt at bucking her hips. His golden hand travelled up her body, finding her breast and gently massaging the flesh there, teasing her pert nipple through the dress fabric.

Wyverne had moaned his name, full of wanton need as she placed her hand on top of his, her hips trying uselessly to grind against his lips. The warmth she felt had been growing, a knot was forming at the base of her spine. She felt his lips wrap around her clit, could feel how he suckled, how he gently scraped his teeth against it as he shook his head slowly from side to side. It was almost too much, and she was afraid of coming undone so soon after his ministrations. He pulled away with a soft pop, making her groan in frustration. She heard his chuckle, felt him hum, felt his hungry silver gaze on her.

"Not yet, my dove. I still have so much to do, and I want my name pulled from those pretty lips of yours." He took her leg off his shoulder, rising to his feet, taking out his hardened cock and giving himself a few strokes.

Wyverne grabbed his lapels, her lips crashing against his in pure desire. She had never wanted a man as much as she wanted Lucio, and yet she could still taste herself on his lips and tongue. She had gasped a little, when he had picked her up by the thighs and wrapped her legs around his trim waist, feeling the hardness of his cock at her entrance. He watched her, hastily undoing the gold buttons holding his suit jacket together, watching as she spread it apart, soft hands touching his exposed chest.

"Are you sure you want this?" Ever the gentleman, he still asked, knowing he could bring her crashing down with just his mouth.

"Lucio, yes, I want nothing else." His name was a prayer, a soft little thing that held so much hidden lust and power in her voice. He nuzzled the side of her nose, looking deep into her eyes.

Lucio felt her gasp, more than he heard her. His cock was bigger than she anticipated, thick and warm and there, stretching every inch of her deliciously. He felt her grab the back of his dress shirt, how she shivered in utter delight as he fully sheathed himself inside her. Oh, she was so warm and wet and tight around him, and he could feel her flutter against him, could feel just how close she was to her own end.

"Don't you hold back, snack cake. I want every moan to reach my ears, I want to hear my name from your lips, how desperate you sound when I fuck you with my cock." He had her chin, tilting her to face him, those last few words whispered against lips smeared with lipstick.

He started to thrust into her, slow and careful at first, drawing out each stroke, letting her feel his cock against her walls. She moaned, not holding them back, her chest having been exposed at some point she couldn't remember when, because she could feel the cool air teasing her nipples to further hardness. Lucio took a breast in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sweet bud, eyeteeth catching. Wyverne whined, a high-pitched sound caught in the back of her throat. He picked up his pacing a little, caught between taking it slow and ripping the gorgeous moans from her throat.

"That's right, snack cake. Let me hear you," he told her, picking up his pace.

Wyverne could feel the flame ignite, deep with her abdomen. The knot tightened further, her moans and curses tripping off the tongue. She could feel him against her neck, how he softly cursed with each erratic thrust. She could feel him kiss her, suckling at the skin, rolling it between his teeth. 

That was it for her. The knot came undone, heat spreading to every limb as his name spilled in a shuddering cry, her body arched against his. Her walls pulled at him, milking his cock. He had a few more thrusts, the feeling of her orgasm too much. His cock twitched, spilling his seed inside her, his moan muffled against her skin.

He waited a few moments, catching his breath. He pulled out, cleaning himself the best he could while still supporting her. He tucked himself back in, and cradled her in his arms for a few moments, letting her collect herself. He helped her right herself, fixing himself as well before taking her in arm and joining the ball once more.

[rosereview]

Top 12 Books of 2019

I read a total of 71 books this year and so many of them were five stars. That’s why this list has twelve instead of ten and why I had to put two or three books in the same placement. The only rules for this list are that I have to have read them this year and no rereads.

12. A Lite Too Bright by Samuel Miller

To start off we have A Lite Too Bright which is a story about a young boy who goes one a hunt for answers regarding his grandfather's disappearance, who had Alzheimers. I was really excited to pick this book up because I had heard good things and Alzheimers is a topic that I have a personal relationship with. Little did I know that this book has so many more elements to it, like politics and adventure and family. It was beautifully written and I will definitely read whatever Samuel Miller comes out with next.

11. Daisy Jones & The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid

This book was raved about when it came out, so when I saw it at Costco for cheap, I had to have it. I don’t regret that in the least, and now I’ve gotten my mom, aunt and cousins hooked on it. It’s told in the form of documentary interviews and tells the story of a rock band in the 1970s. I loved the format that it was told in and I loved the story. I don’t even have the words to describe how good it is, besides the fact that you just have to read it.

10. Made You Up by Francesca Zappia

I read Francesca Zappia’s book, Eliza and her Monsters, last year and it was my number one book of 2018. So I had to read her other book and I’m glad I did. Made You Up is about a girl with schizophrenia and her struggle with distinguishing between reality and her imagination. It’s such an important story because it’s told in a way where you really realize how hard life is for the main character and you can empathize with others like her. It was a powerful story and I highly recommend. 

9. Ministry of Curiosities #6, 8, 9 by C.J. Archer

I finally finished the Ministry of Curiosities series this year and I’m so happy. This series is a total of ten books and I finished the last six books after only reading the first three last year. I was not disappointed with the series and it just keeps getting better and better with each book. My favourites from this series are From the Ashes, Veiled in Moonlight, and Vow of Deception. This series is about a paranormal Victorian England with a ministry that takes care of paranormal activity including several mysteries that you follow throughout the books. I was really impressed with the way all the mysteries tied together in the end and the character development throughout the books. 

8. The Conqueror’s Saga by Kiersten White

This year I read all three books in this series and loved all of them. The series includes And I Darken, Now I Rise, and Bright We Burn. This series takes place during the Ottoman Empire and follows sister and brother, Lada and Radu, as they have to navigate politics and wanting to get home after being taken by the Ottomans. Even though these books aren’t short, they flew by. The pace was very fast and I loved the characters and the way you could see them grow up throughout the books since they start out young in book one. It was a very fun ride.

7. Charlotte Holmes Series by Brittany Cavallaro

This was another series I started and completed in 2019 starting with A Study in Charlotte, The Last of August, The Case for Jamie, and A Question of Holmes. They’re a retelling of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson and follow their descendants Charlotte Holmes and Jamie Watson. I didn’t think I liked mysteries until I read this series. Now I love them! This book has several themes I didn’t even expect, like addiction and mental illness, which gave the characters more development and obstacles. I really think that if you like mysteries, that you’ll like these books.

6. Finale by Stephanie Garber

I read Caraval and Legendary by Stephanie Garber last year and really enjoyed them. This year the last book Finale came out and I loved it. This is the best book of the series and I’m really happy with how it ended and how is tied the series together. The series is about two sisters who both play this scavenger hunt game called Caraval, which is filled with magic and wonder. But through the next books you realize that this world is more than just a game. The issues I had with the first two books weren’t in this last one, or were made less annoying and by the end I was really satisfied. I will now be reading whatever Stephanie Garber comes out with next. 

5. Supernova by Marissa Meyer

Finally the end to Renegades is here and I couldn’t have been more happy, except that I still want more. I loved Renegades so much and Marissa Meyer didn’t disappoint me with this last book. This series is about superheroes and supervillains with the perspective of both sides and the supervillian goes undercover to join the superheroes and take them down. I loved the concept (superheroes!) and loved the way Marissa Meyer told both sides and showed that it wasn’t as simple as good or bad, wrong or right. It’s more complicated than that. 

4. The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield

This book I got from my Aunt last Christmas and I was very surprised with how much I loved it. It's about a famous author who hires a girl to write the author’s life story. It’s full of mystery and tells from both the present and the past. I loved that about it and it has many twists and turns and moments of shock that it really keeps you on the edge of your seat. I don’t want to say much more than that because you should really go into it knowing knowing a lot .

3. Truly Devious Series by Maureen Johnson

I read both Truly Devious and The Vanishing Stair this year and I’m just waiting for the last book to come out in January. Both the first and second book were amazing and like the Charlotte Holmes series, made me love mysteries. It takes place in a special boarding school and switches between the mystery in the present and the mystery that took place there almost 100 years before. It’s very well written and keeps you wanting more. I’ll be very sad when the series ends in this next book. 

2. The Folk of the Air #2, 3 by Holly Black

This year I also read both The Wicked King, and The Queen of Nothing after reading The Cruel Prince last year. Honestly the series just gets better and better and the final book is a very satisfying end. The series is about Faerie and main character, Jude, growing up there even though she’s human. She has to navigate all the politics and tricks that come with Faerie and try to survive. Holly Black is an incredible writer and paired with her world building and imagination, she brings her characters to life and keeps you needing more. I love her world of Faerie. 

1. The Red Scrolls of Magic by Cassandra Clare & Wesley Chu

The best book of 2019 is of course a Cassandra Clare book. The Shadowhunter world is my favourite place to visit and her characters are my best friends. Kidding, but not really. Cassandra Clare is an amazing writer and every book she writes is a work of art and somehow better than the last one. This story follows Alec and Magnus from The Mortal Instruments on their vacation they took during City of Fallen Angels and it’s not the relaxing vacation they’re expecting. I love Magnus and Alec so much, and to see them at the start of their relationship again is so refreshing. I knew this book would be good but I wasn’t expecting everything that happened in the book and to love it as much as I do. I can’t wait for the next book!

So that’s my list of 2019 favourites. I hope some of these can become your new favourites too in the future. 

Until next time!

~Rose Reviews