#i don't want gifts i want long face on spotify

[jaypentaghast]

The Vampire Lestat | Interview with the Vampire (2022)

[sweetbillwriting]

In The Dead of Night

ELEVEN

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

×

“He was in a coma six months ago? For how long?” I asked in shock, but Robin didn't react to it.

“A month, I think? I learned about it after a couple of weeks. His friends didn't know if they should call me and... Heroin. I thought he had stopped with that shit, but one of his weird friends told me he had overdosed on purpose because of depression.”

I looked down at the ground, thinking back on my dreams. Could it be that Eric was in a coma? Believing he was dead? I dragged my hands over my face and shook my head in disbelief. I had started to believe the dreams were just dreams, but now I thought back on it again. The Spotify playlist, the name of his biological mom, the places and drawings he had shown me... Could he in some way visit my dreams while he was in a coma?

“Are you listening?” Asked Robin a little irritated, and I nodded.

“Yeah, yeah. It's just so much… He hasn't told me this.”

“He's probably embarrassed. He has overdosed twice and lived while other people who do something with their lives die of diseases. He gets saved.”

I sat with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, trying to digest everything. I started to get a headache from it all and dragged my hands through my hair, but still I had questions.

“Do you see him as your brother? You cried when you found out he was in a coma, but you talk about him like an invader in your family.”

Robin bent down in a similar way as I and looked down at Odin laying on the ground.

“No. He's just Eric to me. He's my parents foster kid, but he's nothing to me. I get that sounds harsh, but I never understood who he was as a kid, and then in my teens he moved in with us permanently and made everything difficult. But… They also favored him so hard. Dad cut down work hours to be home with him; mom was with him all the time, and they gave him expensive gifts, and we traveled more.”

I looked at Robin’s sad face and how he dragged his feet through the wet leaves on the ground. Maybe it was actually true? Maybe they actually gave Eric all that. I could imagine they wanted to give him all the things he had never gotten to lay a bandage over the abuse and trauma his mom caused him, but it was too much to not get Robin's attention. On top of that, Eric had magical powers? I wanted to laugh at my own thoughts but couldn't do that when Robin sat next to me, but it really seemed like Eric was something more. He talked with animals, was kind to everyone, liked by everyone, and could escape death and visit my dreams. He sounded like a Disney princess.

Robin was quiet just like me for a while, but he wasn't thinking about Snow White; he prepared a confession.

“I never told mom and dad I was gay... It would have given them one more reason to love him more than me. Instead, I was the weird one, never meeting a girl. Did you know he slept with my best friend? And later, two other friends. He was clearly straight and on top of that an asshole. Now he has slept with a fourth friend of mine…”

I looked at Robin up and down uncomfortably. I didn't want to believe Eric had slept with his friends, but I could also see how that could have happened. Eric had been tall, hot, and sexy since his late teens, and on top of that, he had taken drugs then already. I swallowed hard when I thought about how many he probably had slept with.

“I'm sorry, Robin... I don't even know what to say, but… He didn't know we were friends. I've lied to him too…”

Robin shook his head to himself and looked down at his hands playing with Odin's leash, then he sighed.

“I guess I can't decide who you date… But can you promise me you will never force me to like him? And that you're careful? He is an addict, whatever you say.”

I smiled with relief, happy to have his blessing, but it fell when I thought about Eric. He would never forgive me.

“I don't think we need to talk about that even… He will never forgive me…” I took a deep breath to calm myself down because I could feel the tears pushing behind my eyes.

“Ehm, before I talk about him, can we go home? I don't want to sit here and ugly cry in front of everyone.”

Robin nodded quickly and fixed Odin's leash around his hand.

“Of course, of course.”

We went to my home, and with a big cup of tea each, I told him about my love for Eric. How he had pulled me in at once and how I couldn't stop myself from loving him from the first time we met.

“I had these dreams about him when I thought he was dead and… He really was everything I ever wanted from a guy. Nothing like Dante, then I met him, and he was the same, and… He really sees me. He really cares for me, and even if you can't see it, he makes me feel safe.”

I cried so hard, I didn't know if Robin could hear me, but it seemed like it. He looked uncomfortable, even upset, but nodded slowly.

“I… Well, okay, I guess. If you feel like that, I will not say that it isn't true; it's just that I can't see anything else than how manipulative and selfish he is. That's my picture of him, but… Clearly, you see other sides in him…”

I nodded and dried my wet cheeks, but new tears came.

“But it's too late now…”

Robin shook his head.

“In rehab, they talk quite a lot about how to ask for forgiveness and to forgive others. If he learned anything there, he would listen. It's worth a try. You should call him.”

I looked at Robin, who met my eyes. It was big of him saying these things even if he didn't like Eric. Once again, I dried my tears, and then I gave him a hug. At least he was a true friend to me.

I waited until Robin had left to call Eric, and then a bit longer after that. I didn't dare at first. Maybe he was really angry and would curse at me. I wouldn't be able to handle that. I thought about leaving it be, so I could imagine him not being angry and grieve what was of our relationship. However, in the long run it wouldn't give me anything, so I collected myself and called him with shaking hands. I heard signal after signal, and the fourth I thought about hanging up, but just when the fifth started, he answered.

“Hey,” he said shortly.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Hey… Ehm… I don't know what to say, Eric, more than I'm so, so sorry for… everything,” I said with a dry throat and was forced to even cough after I had spoke.

“Yeah…” he said with his thinking voice. I knew he was in deep thought just in the way he answered.

“I love you. I love you, so so much,” I said desperately. Eric was quiet, so I continued to talk.

“I just wanted to be with you. From the first time I saw your photo, I was—”

Eric cleared his voice awkwardly. It was probably a bit much hearing me explain my love for his photo.

“Maybe, maybe we can talk for real?” He said it in a dreamlike tone, and for a second I would have believed he had smoked marijuana recently, but I knew he often sounded like that when he tried to master his big feelings and sensitive heart. “I can come to you tomorrow?”

My own heart beated hard. I didn't want anything more than that.

“Of course, of course!” I said excitedly, I couldn't contain my happiness.

“Good… I'm sorry, by the way?”

“What? For What?” I answered with a giggle, like he was joking. I couldn't control the euphoria I felt of just knowing I would be close to him soon.

“For what happened with Nick and all that… I guess drugs are the thing I think about when life sucks. Like when you had those extreme menstrual cramps and you asked for—”

“Stop!” I said with a loud laugh, and Eric laughed too. It was a joke, a joke about that time I had such horrible period cramps that my ass cramped so I had begged him for anal sex like it was the only thing that could save my life.

Fortunately, it subsided by itself before we had time to do it, and then it felt awfully scary.

I could hear Eric's sweet little giggle in my ear, and I sighed with love.

“I really love you the most in the entire world, you know.”

“I love you most in the entire world, too, babe,” he said warmly before we hung up.

×××

“I'm sorry, but it sounds super weird you dreamed about me,” he said after thinking about what I had said for a while. I had told him I dreamed about him, but I didn't dare say I believed it was actually him visiting my dreams. It would be too much and sound a bit like an excuse from a stalker.

“It was! After the first time seeing your photo, I started to dream about you, and you were amazing in the dream, just as amazing as you are now, and yeah, I just wanted to meet you for real. And you were so different from Dante. Even the person you were in my dream was everything I wanted.”

Eric looked at me with big eyes and nodded. He put down his cup on the coffee table, then he moved closer to me smoothly.

“You have said many times that Dante was a really bad guy… What does that mean?” He searched my eyes, but I just looked away. I didn't want to talk about Dante like that.

“You can talk to me… I hope you know that.”

I moved closer to Eric and looked into his kind eyes. I was safe with him.

“He hit me a couple of times.”

I looked at Eric's Adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“He hit you?”

“It was just a few times, but I provoked him, so it's just embarrassing to talk about. I don't want people to know how annoying I-”

“Hey!” Said Eric, upset, and it made me jump. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he said softly when he realized he had scared me. “No guy has any right to hit you, even if you're annoying as hell. I don't care what you say about yourself, he is the one in the wrong.” He looked at me seriously but suddenly looked scared. “You know I would never do that, right? I know people say it's a bigger risk for abused kids to become abusive adults, but I would never ever in my life do that. I would kill myself if I ever did that.”

His words were sincere and worried, and his face, cute. I kissed his full lips and dragged my hand over his smooth cheek.

“I know that, Eric. That's why I love you so much. I would never doubt your kindness.” I kissed him again, and it led to us making out a bit. I crawled up in his lap, and he took his chance to pull down my tank top straps so he could play with my chest with his big hands. His lips found a nipple, and once again he sucked so hard it felt like he thought his next dinner was there. I dragged my hands over his head and cradled him against my chest while he found comfort against me.

“My boy… I'm sorry for everything that has happened to you in life…” I whispered and made him look at me, still with my nipple between his lips.

“I'm sorry that your biological mom didn't treat you well and that you met so many others that have hurt you…”

Eric released my nipple and looked away but still lay against my chest.

“I know it's her fault I am the way I am. That I crave... That I need drugs to calm my loud thoughts down, but I'm not mad anymore. She was disturbed. She was sick. The men… They're just faceless idiots to me, so there is no one to be angry with.”

He sounded so mature and calm, and I felt proud and smiled at him a little. It would be a good person like Eric who could see life from that angle.

“But when you are depressed, what is that about?”

He shrugged his shoulders and sat up.

“Depression doesn't always have an explanation. It's just like everything drops for me. Like nothing is important. It just falls to the ground, and I can't see an end. Of course I can have nightmares about the men who kicked me around or the times Linda tied me to the radiator for a day or two.” I gave him an upset look, but he didn't seem to notice. “But it's not those memories that make me depressed. That's just my brain shutting off.”

Eric looked at me and then smiled a little.

“You don't need to look so worried; it was fifteen years ago. And Linda is dead. She died of a failing liver when I was eighteen or something.”

I nodded a little and patted his cheeks. It was hard thinking that a kind soul as Eric had gotten treated like that, and it made both my chest and stomach hurt. I kissed his lips softly a few times, but I noticed quickly that Eric wanted more than that. I giggled when he pulled down my tank top again to touch my chest and when he licked my lips to be able to get permission to dance with my tongue.

Deep tongue kisses made Eric pleasurably groan, and when I moved in his lap, I could clearly feel he was hard. I dragged myself over his sex and could feel his cock grow to its full size in the loose-fit track pants. Eric knew what he wanted but also what I wanted, so he stood up and let me hang around him like a koala bear.

“Am I not heavy?” I said with a giggle. I knew I wasn't for him, but I wanted to hear it.

“Fuck no, you don't weigh a thing.” He said, shaking his head. He probably knew I just wanted to hear that but answered seriously so it would feel even more real for me. I giggled and leaned back while being in his safe arms. I could lean back a long way, and Eric let out a sound of admiration.

“Fuck you're sexy,” he said, and then put me down in bed. His words made me feel my self esteem grow, and I smirked while taking off my clothes while lying in bed. I moved sensually, letting him be my small little audience while I started my masturbation show for him. Eric stood and looked at me with an open mouth and pulled off his big gray t-shirt. I looked at his muscles shamelessly, and even if he was so close, I fantasized about having him even closer. I sat up, drunk of hornyness, and pulled him closer to me with a grip of the elastic to his dark blue pants.

From his navel down to the hem of his pants, I made a small trail of kisses. I licked the lines going down to his groin while teasingly pushing down his pants with his boxers. Eric chuckled a little when I licked closer and closer to his loins and helped me take the last of his clothes when my lips moved closer and closer to the root of his cock. He kicked the pants and boxers away with his socks and then turned around. His idea was to just attack my lips with his, but I stopped him because I wanted to look at him. Eric scratched his ear while I looked at his body up and down.

“Damn boy,” I teased and bit my lip. Eric chuckled, embarrassed but also proudly. He had a hobby you could see clearly how much he worked on, but also, he won a lottery in anatomy.

“Can I fuck you now?” He said and moved closer to me, and I nodded with a giggle. With a smile, he kissed me and moved over me, his body so broad it felt like it swallowed me up. He smelled like one of his expensive perfumes, mixed with herbal tea, and even that smell was intoxicating. With a swift motion, he had pushed me down on my stomach in bed so he could enter me from behind while he held me close to his body. I wonder if I could ever get used to his size or strength. I hoped not because every time he was close, I felt so blessed and protected, and I hoped I would never take that feeling for granted.

×××

Eric fell asleep after our lovemaking; most of the time he had held me up against the wall, and I could see that would even be much for him, but I couldn't deny what a feeling it was to be held like that. I felt small and vulnerable in his arms, full, overwhelmed, and light as air. He had instead held me up by the thighs while also moving in and out of me with fast, hard strokes. No wonder he was tired.

I swept my finger over his nose, following the straight nose bridge out to the upturned tip. He wasn't bothered by it; he just continued to sleep. Warmth rose in my chest while I looked at him, but another feeling started to take over. Hadn't it been very easy for me to be forgiven by him? I had lied and gone behind his back, but he forgave me after just a few minutes, then slept with me in the best way. The last time I saw him, he had also laid in a bed but had asked for drugs. Did that craving just disappear? I thought back to the moment in his bed and what he had said. He had wanted the morphine pills he had seen in the bathroom. Pills I hadn't hidden away before his visit. I stood up from bed and pulled on a floral kimono as I walked to the bathroom on light feet. I know you can guess what I found—nothing. The pills weren't anywhere to be found. I searched over and over in the bathroom, but there weren't any pills. I could feel the panic grow because I didn't want to believe it, but still it was there; Eric had just forgiven me and slept with me to steal my morphine pills.

I stood and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, more or less waiting for the inevitable breakdown. I loved him so much, but he clearly loved other things more than me, even if he had said he loved me most in the entire world. I waited for the breakdown, but it never came; maybe it had just been too much the last few days and there were no tears left.

I walked back to the bedroom, where he still slept with just the cover on his hips. I looked at all the badly made tattoos, the clues to what life he had lived and probably would soon live again. I wondered if he was high on something while we slept together. Maybe it was amphetamine that gave him his stamina. I kicked his shin with my foot over and over. That was the only way I wanted to touch him; otherwise, I wouldn't be able to keep my cool. I kicked quite hard after a while to make him wake up, and after three hard kicks, he looked up at me confused.

“I'm sorry, have I slept a long time?” He said with a raspy voice and rubbed his eyes.

“Did you just sleep with me to be able to take my pills?” I said crass with furrowed brows. He sat up and scratched his chest. He looked adorable with his big eyes shifting, but for me, that was just proof he had taken them; he couldn't even look at me.

“What?”

“My morphine pills; you have taken them!”

“What? No?”

“God, I never thought this about you, Eric!”

“But I haven't-”

“Don't lie to me!”

“But I-”

“Maybe you are just the fucking junkie everyone says you are!”

Even if he was the one in the wrong, I swallowed hard when he looked at me hurt.

Without a word, he stood up and started to dress. My instinct was to say I was sorry and beg him to stay, but he had used me for drugs, so there was no hope for us.

I stood with crossed arms and shiny eyes while his naked body disappeared into soft fabrics. He walked by me without a look, out to the hallway.

“Can I have the pills?” I tried to sound cold but didn't know if I succeeded very well. The question made him finally look up at me with sad eyes.

“I don't have them.”

I sighed and looked down at the ground disappointedly. It wasn't like him to lie to me right in the face, but I guessed drugs made him into someone else. I looked at him while he pulled on his bomber jacket and turned on his heel to the door. The jackets were the only place he could have them, and for a few seconds I regretted not looking in his pockets but brushed that away; it didn't make any difference. Eric closed the door silently behind him; he would probably never be the kind to be violent in front of a woman. I stared at the door for a long time after he had left with tears in my eyes. I couldn't say why, but it felt like something didn't add up, but I tried to say to myself that it was just me who wanted it to be that way.

I sat down on the couch where our teacups still stood on the coffee table. I breathed heavily, trying to find acceptance, but it seemed like other thoughts knocked on the door and wanted in.

He hadn't even been in the bathroom. He had been by my side all the time.

I thought back to his visit, trying in every way to find a time he could have taken the pills, but there wasn't a time. In panic, I ran to the bathroom, looking again through every cabinet and box after the pills. I threw things out on the floor to see everything better, but they were nowhere to be found. I cried hysterically because I couldn't find an explanation.

“Maybe you are just the fucking junkie everyone says you are!”

Even if he was the one in the wrong, I swallowed hard when he looked at me hurt.

Without a word, he stood up and started to dress. My instinct was to say I was sorry and beg him to stay, but he had used me for drugs, so there was no hope for us.

I stood with crossed arms and shiny eyes while his naked body disappeared into soft fabrics. He walked by me without a look, out to the hallway.

“Can I have the pills?” I tried to sound cold but didn't know if I succeeded very well. The question made him finally look up at me with sad eyes.

“I don't have them.”

I sighed and looked down at the ground disappointedly. It wasn't like him to lie to me right in the face, but I guessed drugs made him into someone else. I looked at him while he pulled on his bomber jacket and turned on his heel to the door. The jackets were the only place he could have them, and for a few seconds I regretted not looking in his pockets but brushed that away; it didn't make any difference. Eric closed the door silently behind him; he would probably never be the kind to be violent in front of a woman. I stared at the door for a long time after he had left with tears in my eyes. I couldn't say why, but it felt like something didn't add up, but I tried to say to myself that it was just me who wanted it to be that way.

I sat down on the couch where our teacups still stood on the coffee table. I breathed heavily, trying to find acceptance, but it seemed like other thoughts knocked on the door and wanted in.

He hadn't even been in the bathroom. He had been by my side all the time.

I thought back to his visit, trying in every way to find a time he could have taken the pills, but there wasn't a time. In panic, I ran to the bathroom, looking again through every cabinet and box after the pills. I threw things out on the floor to see everything better, but they were nowhere to be found. I cried hysterically because I couldn't find an explanation.

“Maybe you are just the fucking junkie everyone says you are!”

I heard my own words in my head. Had I thrown that in his face, and he hadn't even taken the pills? He must have taken them. Where else were they? I needed to talk to someone, someone that could tell me I had done the right thing. I called Robin with shaking hands, sitting on the toilet lid with legs bobbing up and down in panic.

“My morphine pills were gone, so he must have taken them, but I don't know when he could have done it, but he must have, right? Right? I mean, where are they otherwise? He came here and pretended to be the perfect boyfriend again just to take them!” I rambled with a runny nose.

Robin was quiet on the line. I wasn't prepared for that; I thought he would just say I had done the right thing.

“I have them.”

I didn't understand what he was saying and furrowed my brows in confusion.

“What?”

Robin sighed deeply.

“I'm sorry, I thought I did both of you a favor by taking them away. So he wouldn't be tempted.”

“Huh?” My heart beated hard against my chest.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I had accused Eric of stealing my pills without any proof, and here I now sat with the truth. Eric was really the perfect boyfriend, but I had called him a junkie.

“I didn't want to do a thing out of it because I was afraid you would be angry if I said anything that could be critical to your relationship.”

Robin sounded sincere, but right at that moment I didn't care. I had called Eric a fucking junkie. I thought about his hurt expression but how calm he still continued to be. Always so respectful and sweet, even when hearing such things.

“Oh my god... Oh my god…” I said with a shaking voice and laid a hand over my mouth to cover my sobs.

“I'm really sorry, Della; this wasn't my plan at all!” Said Robin with guilt and stress in his voice. I didn't say anything because I was busy trying to control my tears.

“I would never do such a thing to you. Him, yes, but not you. I can punish him with mom and all that, but I wouldn't-” he interrupted himself, and I could almost hear his panic.

“...how do you punish Eric? What? How do you punish Eric??” I said, upset, and raised my voice. I had a bad feeling—a really bad feeling and ideas about what he had done to Eric spun around in my head.

“Nothing!” Robin sounded mad, but I was quite sure it was a way to mask that he had said way too much.

“Tell me now!”

Robin was quiet on the line. “Is it something about him not seeing Lotti? Huh? Have you kept them from each other?”

Robin sighed like he was irritated, but instead of saying anything, he hung up in my ear.

×

[thesoftboiledegg]

Rock on! 🎶🎵

After I walked around, took pictures and grabbed a gift from the Rickmobile, I decided to drive home. I'm not interested in watching the anime, so why stay for the screening?

I drove about ten minutes away, and I thought--nope, I'm going back. This is a once-in-a-lifetime event. Watching movies and TV shows is way more fun when you're in a crowd. I'm an MCU fan, so I know how it works.

Earlier that evening, people were parked in the chairs, ready for the show.

Adult Swim reminded them not to record the episode. "We shouldn't have to tell you this, but people suck."

It started raining on the drive back to the Rickmobile, but luckily, it didn't last long. Unfortunately, I arrived just in time to catch the last five minutes. Whoops.

But they announced that they'd air the episode again! I just had to kill thirty minutes.

Check out that guy's Morty mask! 👇

I was hungry, so I bought a hot dog and homemade chips from a food truck. Adult Swim blasted their Spotify playlist--with ads. Apparently, they didn't want to spring for Spotify Premium.

The crowd slowly thinned out. The Rickmobile ran out of merchandise and closed up shop.

Weird, it looks like an ice cream truck in that first photo. 🍨

Morty managed to look even more terrified in the darkness. Someone helpfully illuminated his face with a spotlight.

Before the episode began, the crew played a track that I thought was a remix of the Rick and Morty theme song, but apparently, it's a track called Birth4000 by Floating Points.

And then it was showtime!

Before the episode, Adult Swim played another reminder that this preview was "just between us" and that piracy is bad. And they weren't joking--a guy standing next to me got caught recording the episode and had to leave after deleting the video from his phone.

The episode itself was OK. I enjoyed the art, animation and theme song, but the story was hard to follow. Summer was a badass, though. I also loved getting a glimpse of the Rick with long hair. I'll admit it: I'm biased because my OC is a fellow long-haired Rick.

Thinking about it now, I wonder how many people in the crowd also had OCs or roleplayed, wrote fics, made fan art, etc. It's easy to forget that even a lot of diehard fans don't take that route. We're our own little community inside a giant fanbase.

I hope I can attend another event like this in the future. It's one thing to spot thousands of Rick and Morty fans on Twitter or Reddit, but to see how many people love the show in person? And that's just a tiny fraction of its viewership.

Here's to season eight and beyond!

[sstan-hoe]

— 𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑇𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑂𝑢𝑡 —

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 — mob!bucky barnes × fem!reader

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 — “i don’t know what kind of wine you’re meant to have with takeout, so i got both.”

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 — none! But listen to PERFECT from ED SHEERAN please you should really do it

𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒 — this was requested by the lovely @bucky-barnes-diaries who gifted me with this marvelous idea, it screamed mob au where he only knows fancy but reader isn't as fancy, reblog, follow and comment !

𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒'𝑠 𝐷𝑎𝑦 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡

To say Bucky was nervous would be an understatement, he was anxious. Never before did he have a Valentine's Day as important as this one.

It was the first Valentine’s day he would celebrate with you. For weeks he had planned the perfect day, with a private screening of Jojo Rabbit and a fancy dinner afterwards. Then one night as you laid cuddled up in bed you told him how you didn’t want to do anything fancy.

You hadn't grown up in luxury or lived in it for a long time like Bucky. Of course you knew he only wanted to cherish you, but you didn't need that.

Instead your idea was to buy takeout and have a nice relaxing evening.

That wasn't on Bucky's list. However he wouldn’t do something that you didn’t want which was why he was currently in his wine cellar looking for the perfect wine. The Domaine Leroy Musigny Grand Cru and the Coche-Dury Corton-Charlemagne Grand Cru, but which wine would someone drink with takeout? Red or white? Or no wine at all? He decided to take both.

You were already buzzing with excitement, this Valentine’s day would be special which was the reason you wanted to do something normal and not fancy. In the past years you’ve never met a man quite like Bucky, he was a gentleman, cared for you, worshiped you and respected you.

Everything was finished, a set table with fresh roses, dim lights and romantic playlist you found on Spotify. Now any minute Bucky would come and sweep you off your feet.

The doorbell rang and you had to keep a giggle from coming to the surface as you skipped over to the door. Opening the wooden door it revealed Bucky, his hair pulled back into a man bun, he wore black jeans and a matching black flannel.

“Hey there handsome…,” you smirked leaning against your doorframe. Bucky mirrored your smirk and stepped closer to you. “Hello, beautiful…,” he leaned his face down, his nose almost touching yours.

In moments like these you realized once again how tall he was compared to you. Bucky’s hand grasped your cheek to kiss you, the kiss was full of passion and his tongue graced your bottom lip to ask for permission. Instantly your mouth fell open to let him in. Your tongues danced over dominance, the kiss as hot as fire.

You had to pull back for air, breathing heavily you looked into his blue eyes with a big smile. Bucky rested his forehead on yours and closed his eyes like you before he pushed you inside your flat.

“I don't know what kind of wine you’re meant to have with takeout, so I got both,” he said as you both came to a stop. A hearty laugh escaped your lips at his words, “no worries, my love,” you assured him and led him to the table.

The mob boss had a spark in his eyes as he saw how beautifully you decorated the table, “look what my pretty girl did! This looks amazing, dragul meu.” his Romanian tongue had butterflies dancing in your belly.

Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close to kiss the crown of your head.

“Takeout is still not here…wanna dance?” you asked with a little smirk and raised eyebrows. The brunette immediately took your right hand and spun you around, “with pleasure,” he whispered against the shell of your ear as he had you flush against his chest.

He spun you back around and the music switched to ‘Perfect’ from Ed Sheeran.

His hands rested on your waist as your hands closed around his neck. Your head laid on his shoulder, trying to be as close to him as possible.

Swaying around your living room, the room was full of love. You enjoyed this moment, it should never end because this is right where you wanted to be forever. This man, he was the one you wanted to be with forever without exception.

You lifted your head and opened your eyes to see he was already looking at you with those dreamy blue eyes. The smile never left your lips, he looked perfect.

Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off you, he wondered how he deserved a woman like you. A woman who was okay with what he was doing, a woman who appreciated him, a woman who wasn’t with him for his money and a woman who accepted him with his scars.

A soft warm hand laid against his cheeks and you looked at him with this gaze, he didn’t want that to change, ever.

You were the woman he would marry, have children with, grow old with and would spend forever with. “And now I know I have met an angel in person,” Bucky began singing along quietly, his voice angelic.

“And she looks perfect,” his eyes never left yours as you tried hard not to tear up, “I don’t deserve this,” Bucky pulled you closer.

“You look perfect tonight,” he whispered the last words before he closed his lips on yours.

[realhumanithink]

coming back online to share to the world my list of evan things. if you relate to most these things i title you Evan Rosier Kin

note: all of these are headcanons and may not align with how you perceive evan. most of these are inspired by like tiktoks and stuff, but otherwise its mostly things based on me because i literally remind myself of evan so much

another note: phrasing of these may be harsh!! im not targetting anyone fyi, and i dont mean harm, but i wrote most of these in a fit of self-hatred and when i reread them, i realised "hey, this sounds like evan lol" so i brushed it up a bit, but there might still be harsh wording and accusations

last note!!!: i have no fucking personality and im using this to self-reflect so my fault lmao

wants to be an overachiever, a hard worker, but in reality is just a gifted kid who hasn't fully burned out and is too lazy to actually work hard.

30000 different genres of songs on spotify. wonders if that means you have no personality.

sometimes wonders if people would miss you when you’re gone. doesn't think so.

knows 6 different languages, not good at any.

can't take criticism.

ambiverted. wonders if this means you have no personality.

likes a style, but isn't sure you would look good in it.

supposed ‘smart and nice’ kid, but that's who you were 4 years ago. people still hold the same view of you. 

high standards. you've been brainwashed into thinking u can meet them but sometimes, u aren't so sure.

covers the parts of your face u dont like with hair. bonus points if it's a regular ass haircut like a fringe and your parents hate it.

gets overly clingy in friendships. not like physically clingy but mentally?? if you get me

wanna be insomniac. thing is, it just takes you a bit longer to fall asleep.

fluctuating confidence levels

feels like a second choice, always.

cringe culture holds you back from enjoying what you want to enjoy.

the people around you don't seem to care as much as you do. whenever you succeed, you look back and no one is cheering like you always do. sometimes, it feels like you are average or lower, but the people you are compared to are simply even lower and that's why you are supposedly ‘good’.

*does well* “duh, *** is always so good. they don't deserve praise” *doesn't do well or actually just does average* “*** DIDNT DO WELL OHHHH”.

when someone compliments you, you feel pressured to uphold their standard and wonder how long it'll take till they realise you arent so good.

EXAMPLE because my wording is shit: someone told me i was funny and since then ive been scared to text him because i was like 'oh fuk what if when i talk to him next im not funny enough'

deathly afraid of being cheesy/cliche. this holds you back from showing much affection, especially romantic.

shoes are worn half to death.

your answer to theoretical questions is always ‘depends’. wonders if that means-

everyone thinks your friends ‘influence’ you, but really you’re as whack as them, just not as obvious.

a group of people you hate significantly less than everyone else, and one person you love

[fandomsnstuff]

@taznovembercelebration

Day 3: bakery au/playlist

Kravitz gives Taako a gift and gets invited to a party

Read it on AO3

Kravitz stands pressed against the brick wall outside the bakery, out of view of the large stretch of front windows. He drums his fingers on the plastic case in his hands.

This is. Insane. Taako's working. He's almost always been working when they see each other. What on Earth made him think that making him a mixtape in cd form, cassette form, and spotify form (just in case he doesn't have a way to play the other two) would be appropriate?

Sure, they see each other every day when Kravitz comes in for a sweet treat. And Taako flirts with him over the counter every time, and loiters around the little table he sits at by the window to talk to him more. Then of course there was that time they ran into each other at the grocery store and stood in the aisle talking for at least 30 minutes. And the time they ran into each other at the movies and went for dinner and a walk after. Then Taako gave him his number the next day when he came in for a danish, and they text almost every day. Taako even joked that they were meant to be when they found out that Kravitz's old college roommate is his brother in law.

But a mixtape? What is this, 1986?

But here he is, with an hour and a half of music he carefully curated for Taako in three different forms. At this point he can't not give it to him.

He takes a deep breath and walks into the bakery. The bell above the door jingles and Taako doesn't even look up from where he's loading some fresh cookies into the display. "I was wondering how long you were gonna stand out there."

Kravitz freezes. "You could see-"

"Sure could." Taako comes up and leans against the counter, smiling smugly. "Whatcha got there?"

Kravitz hides the tape and cd behind his back, his face burning. "Nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing." Kravitz takes a very sudden interest in the wall behind Taako. "Tell you what," Taako says, drawing Kravitz's eyes back to him like a magnet, "I'll trade you. You show me what made you stand outside my place of business for 10 minutes, and I give you one of my new ginger molasses cookies, on the house."

Kravitz eyes the cookies in question. They do look good, perfect picturesque cracks on top, sugar on the outside glistening like crystal. And Taako's cookies are always perfectly crunchy on the edges and soft in the middle.

"They just came out of the oven," he says tauntingly, "still warm."

The unfortunate thing is that Kravitz can be bought. Especially with baked goods. "I, um," his heart is still racing, but he approaches the counter, "this is so dumb, but I," he laughs, embarrassed, and presents the gifts, "I made you a mixtape? You mentioned that you've been listening to the same music when you bake since you started working here, and maybe you want to, but I just thought you might like… another option." Taako's very good at keeping his composure, but his eyebrows have raised. Kravitz hopes that's good surprised and not incredulous, bad surprised. "I didn't know what you have to play music so, uh, yeah."

A beat of silence passes, then Taako barks a laugh. He picks up the cassette and flips it over, reading the tracks. "Hozier, ACDC, Taylor Swift," his voice rises in pitch as he reads out the artists, "My Chemical Romance, Ed Sheeran, The Backstreet Boys, Nickleback-" he cackles, "you're a freak, Krav, this fucks."

Kravitz laughs. "You said you like variety."

"Well I've certainly got it now." He puts the tape down and walks back to the display, grabbing a paper bag and a pair of tongs. "I think I owe you two cookies for this."

"You don't have to-"

"Too late!" He packages up two ginger cookies and hands the bag over to him. "No take-backsies."

"Thank you." He takes his treat and sits at his table by the window, watching Taako as he takes his new music into the back, and a moment later the song playing over the speakers stops and Take Me to Church starts.

Taako isn't able to stop and talk to him a lot, he putters around, filling the display case, cleaning, helping other people who come in. When Kravitz is on his way out, Taako calls out, "hey, Krav!" He turns, and Taako says, "do you want to go to a party?"

"Like, in general?"

"No, I'm- there's going to be a party this weekend. With my friends. Barold will be there. Do you want to come?"

"Oh," other than Barry, he hasn't met Taako's friends, "I wouldn't want to intrude on your friends."

"Well," Taako scoffs and crosses his arms, "it's my birthday party so I can do whatever I want and they can deal."

Kravitz's eyes widen. "It's your birthday? I had no idea-"

"You wouldn't. Anyway, you in?"

"Yeah, yes, for sure."

"Cool. I'll text you."

Taako texts him later that day with an address and a time for the coming Saturday. He asks if he should bring anything, and Taako's response of "just your handsome self" makes his heart do somersaults. He considers getting Taako a gift, but he made him a mixtape. Maybe he already considers that his gift. He thinks about bringing wine, but he knows Taako's pretty particular about his wine pairings. The idea of flowers goes straight out the window, that'd be too much.

He follows Taako's instructions and just brings himself. There's food and desserts set out, including a cake that's been pre-cut so people can just grab and go. He asks Taako, "no candles?"

He snorts. "Trust me, you don't want to hear these fuckers sing."

The party itself is… fine. Taako's friends are welcoming, and include him in conversation and games. But there's a history and camaraderie here that he's very clearly not a part of. Of course it's Taako's party, so he can do what he wants, but Kravitz feels like he shouldn't be here.

Taako sticks around in his general vicinity for the most part, which Kravitz is grateful for. It reminds him that he was actually invited. But at some point Taako gets dragged off to do god knows what, and Kravitz takes the opportunity to step outside.

The cool night air is refreshing. He takes a deep breath and sits in one of the patio chairs. A minute later, the sliding door opens and Barry steps out. He sits in the chair next to him, "you okay, bud?"

He shrugs. "Yeah." Barry gives him a sympathetic look that somehow makes him want to spill his guts. Kravitz sighs, "it's just- I'm glad that Taako invited me, but it just feels like- everybody's nice and all, but you've known each other for so long, maybe it'd have been better if his birthday party was just his closest friends, you know?"

Barry snorts. "Sorry, I'm not laughing at you, but," he chuckles and shakes his head, "do you know how Taako normally celebrates his birthday?"

His brow furrows. "He has a party? Has all his friends come and give him presents?"

"No. He lets Lup buy him dinner and that's it. He never wants a party or cake. I'm not even allowed to know where they're going for dinner." He leans in close and lowers his voice, "this party didn't exist until he invited you to it."

"Then…" he looks back through the glass of the sliding door, where Taako's scrambling to get out of Magnus's arms like an indignant cat while Merle loudly sings Happy Birthday, "why?"

Barry looks a little smug. "I have a few ideas."

"Like what?"

He shrugs and stands, clapping a hand on Kravitz's shoulder. "I'll see you in there."

"Wha- Barry!"

But he's already gone back inside.

The Monday after the party, Kravitz is sitting at his table in the bakery, daydreaming out the window when a slice of confetti cake is set down in front of him. Taako sits across from him with his own slice of confetti cake that has a purple candle sticking out of it. He takes a lighter out of his pocket and seem to light and blow out the candle in one go. He picks up the fork on his plate and digs into the cake. Kravitz picks up his own fork and tentatively takes a bite.

"I hear Barold spilled the party beans to you," Taako says after a long silence. He's deconstructing the layers of cake with his fork.

"Party beans?" Kravitz says eloquently.

Taako huffs. "Party beans! The beans about the party!" He slumps back in his chair, and scoops a lump of icing into his mouth.

Kravitz doesn't know what to say, so he says nothing. They both pick at their cake in silence as Green Day serenades them through the speakers.

"I just never really saw the point," Taako says eventually. "For our entire lives, our birthday was just another day, because we had no money to make a big deal about it. Then we got some money and a couple of friends, and we could make a whole shindig about it. Lup loved it, I didn't really care. I liked planning it for Lup, but I just didn't need it for me. I let her take me to dinner because she insists on doing something."

Kravitz takes a moment, then says, "you deserve to be celebrated, Taako."

"I know," he snaps. "A birthday party's just too much."

"But you love getting attention." He shrugs, still slumped in his seat. Kravitz says, "so why the party now?"

"I wanted to spend time with you, doofus. And a birthday party was the first thing that came to my idiot brain."

"Oh." Kravitz stabs at his cake. "You don't need to throw a party to get me to spend time with you." Taako stays low in his seat, looking at his decimated piece of cake. "Can I take you to dinner?"

Taako finally sits up. "As long as you don't tell the waiters it's my birthday. I've been subjected to too many sparklers and stupid hats."

Kravitz laughs. "I think I can manage that."

[not-magdi]

hi, one where the reader is a singer, and she composes a song for Gavi ( yellow-coldplay) and he reacts to it, thanks<3

Our Song

I know how to add the song now !

your_username

Liked by pablogavi, selenagomez, spotify and 893.634 others

your_username Ok sooo, I did something there ... 💛

tagged: pablogavi

selenagomez: I would like to add that she stole MY tone studio for that.

⎜your_username: I'm sorry but yours has comfier chairs than mine 🥺

pablogavi: 💛💛

nightsread: HAHAH not Y/N stealing Selenas studio

lemonhoneypie: I swear if these two don't sit at the same table at the Grammys again I'm gonna cry

⎜liked by your_username

y/nandpablostan: She tagged Pablo, you think she wrote the song for him?

⎜dreamy-cupcake: OMG that would be sooo cute !!

view more comments

After three months of hard work and many nights at the tone studio, your new single, 'Yellow', is finally done. 

Usually, you wouldn't need that much time for one song, but this one has a special place in your heart. It's about your boyfriend, Pablo. You have been together for two years now, and your love for him has only grown.  

Pablo does anything for you. Nothing is too complicated or too expensive for him. As long as you're happy, he's happy.

You wanted to give something back to him, something that shows your love and appreciation for him. Finding the perfect present or gesture was difficult. You searched for weeks until you stumbled over an old picture of you two. 

The story behind it inspired you to write something that came deep from your heart. 

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

Currently you are sitting in your studio waiting for Pablo to come by. He had training today, but you wanted to let him hear it first, before publishing it. 

 You always ask him to listen to your songs before everybody else. So he didn't think about it that much when he knocked on your studio door. 

"Amor, I'm here!"  

Standing up from your seat, you rush to the door to open it, immediately falling into his arms. 

"HELLO, I'm so glad you're here. Come in, come in, come in!"

Laughing at your excitement, he let you drag himself into your studio. After you sat him down in one of the chairs, you felt his hands grabbing your waist, pulling you into him.  

"What got you so excited, cariño?"

You blushed at his question, hiding your face in his neck. You were nervous about his reaction. You shouldn't be. That boy loves you with his whole heart, but you still feel butterflies in your stomach. 

"Nothing, just excited to show you my song."

"Well then, let me hear it." 

Taking a deep breath, you loosen yourself out of Pablo's embrace and go to your equipment. You look back at him before you press play, and the sound of guitars fills the room. 

-Look at the stars,

Look how they shine for you,

And everything you do

Yeah, they were all yellow

...

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

Flashback 

You and Pablo confessed your feelings for each other at Pablo's 17th Birthday party. After everybody left, and it was only the two of you, you sneaked out and climbed on top of his parents' garage.  

The garage had a flat roof, so you could lay there and watch the stars at night. It was something special between you two, climbing up here and watching the stars together.  

You first found him there after a fight with his parents, hugging his knees and sobbing into them. You stayed with him and comforted him until it was dark and the stars lightened up the sky.  

So, of course, after his party, you were sneaking up there after his parents went to bed. Cuddled up under a big blanket. 

"I want to give you my last birthday present."

"Oh, you still have a gift? You already gave me so much." 

"I know, but I wanted to give you something special between us. Close your eyes."

Taking a deep breath, you look at his features in the moonlight and how his lashes touch his rosy cheeks. You grab his cheek with a feather-light touch and brush your lips against his.  

You thought he would turn away immediately, but he grabbed your cheeks and deepened the kiss after a few seconds.  

Having to stop because your lungs started to burn from the lack of air, you look at each other with bright red cheeks and pure love and adoration in your eyes. 

Giggling shyly, you cuddle yourself deeper into him, hiding your face in his neck.

"I really, really like you Pabs. Like so much." You whisper into his neck. 

"You have no idea how happy I am right now! I really like you too!" You feel his arms tightening around you and his lips kissing your head.  

Unbeknownst to you, his parents were watching the whole scene in awe. His Mum, taking a photo of you two with her old Polaroid camera, snuggled together, watching the stars.

The next morning, you found the picture on Pablo's bedside table. And since that day, it's always with you.  

Flashback end  

The song comes to an end the whole time you haven't dared to look at him, scared of his reaction. 

Now, you slowly turn around, seeing your boy sitting there completely frozen, mouth agape, tears streaming down his face. 

"Oh, Amor, don't cry. You're making me cry too."

Rushing out of your seat, you crash into his arms, holding each other tight. You dry his tears by kissing them away, each and every one of them. 

Sniffing, Pablo looks down at you, kissing your lips as passionately as he can. 

"I love you so much, Amor. I hope it lasts forever."

"I know it will" 

-And you know, you know I love you so 

You know I love you so 

...

[huntingrays]

For the Spotify ask thing:

27

If you have done it already sorry 😭🫶

27 - illicit affairs by Taylor Swift

so i think like originally it was going to like an actual affair but like neither of them would ever be cheaters so i just made this like a forbidden romance instead! the ending is a little rushed but eh. also ignore my random fantasy world building, i can’t stop rambling whenever i start. this took a lot longer than i expected bc writing for vg week but i finished those so we’re so back bby 😎

next fic may take a while to bc my thoughts went crazy with it…. but yeah this is just sad

Original Post

“Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby"

Look at this idiotic fool that you made me

You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else”

“You’re going out into the woods again? Seriously? If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re secretly dating a nymph.”

Leo winked at Piper. “Please. You know I only have love in my heart for my inventions and Festus.”

A look of mock hurt appeared on Piper’s face. “And not even for me? You’re so cruel, Valdez.”

Piper was Leo’s best friend at The Academy. Though he had other friends, like Percy, Calypso, and Annabeth, Piper was his best friend. She and Festus, his dragon, were the only things keeping him sane at the school. The Academy was grueling but it was the best school for fae. Though Leo was intelligent, he doubted he would’ve gotten in if he hadn’t been an elemental. A long time ago, there were a bunch of fae who were blessed by the gods, giving them the power to summon one of the elements. They were called the elementals. The gift could be passed down to their descendants, but it was rare. The Academy sought out any elemental fae to teach since it was a valuable gift. Leo could summon fire. He only knew of one other elemental fae, which was Percy, who could summon water. Fae were powerful magic users, but elementals were even more powerful.

Leo had no desire to be a fighter like many of the others in his class. Instead, he just wanted to be an inventor and dragon rider. Leo had already bonded with a dragon - Festus - so he was already solid on that goal. With how much time he spent on his studies and his forest escapades, he didn’t have much time to spend inventing. Most of his inventions were made out of spite whenever he was slightly inconvenienced. He would feel upset over something minor, like how long it took to preen his wings and would make a whole invention just to make his life easier (and the lives of his friends, as long as they paid him in food or favors to use his inventions - though Piper got a best friend free pass).

Leo had been at The Academy for years, ever since his fire powers developed when he was eight years old. Most other fae joined when they reached their teen years when the board could properly evaluate the power of the ones who applied and would choose the best of their applicants. Only elementals, like Leo and Percy, got in early, so The Academy could hone their powers better. Percy was very talented and strong; he was one of the top in their classes (only beaten by Annabeth). Leo wasn’t as gifted in the strengths or power department but made up for it in intelligence. With all his years at The Academy, he should have thought of it as a second home. Despite his years there, the place wasn’t even close to home. The professors were too strict, the environment too stifling, and the halls too cold. To Leo, his home was his mother and his friends. Most kids were able to visit home during the weekends, but Leo could only return home when their classes wrapped up for the year since he lived far away. It took a day's travel on his dragon to reach home. So, Leo could only see his mother for a fraction of the year. He sent as many letters as he could, but he still missed her dearly.

Around the end of Leo’s first year were when his forest escapades began. At first, it was just something pure and innocent, just Leo wanting a friend. As time went on, however, it became something more, something intimate. Now that he reached eighteen, he was certain he met his soulmate, met the love of his life.

Normally, fae would be able to tell when they met their soulmate - he remembered witnessing what happened with Percy and Annabeth, then their years of ignoring their bond - but it didn’t work if their other half wasn’t fae. Leo was sure there were other ways to check if his secret lover was his soulmate, but he didn’t care to check. He simply knew that he was the one for him, that he was the only one he’d love.

None of his friends knew about his lover. He knew they likely wouldn’t care, but they would worry about him. He knew how this would end but he refused to accept it. He knew his heart would be broken in the end, yet he still held out hope. He didn’t want their pity.

Different species had different opinions on relationships. With fae, they tended to accept queer relationships. With their magic and soulmate bonds, they tended to have no objections, especially with physical proof of love. Also, they couldn’t even object to them not being able to have kids. Thanks to fae magic, things like the same reproductive organs, infertility, or risky childbirth could be worked around. Leo couldn’t exactly explain how it worked since it differed due to many different solutions.

However, the fae weren’t entirely accepting. Though they may accept or merely tolerate queer relationships (it differs from person to person), interspecies relationships tend to be frowned upon. A lot of it was due to not being able to have kids (unless the partner was human) and no obvious proof of a soulmate bond. Interspecies relationships weren’t illegal, but those in them were often frowned upon and shunned.

Since Leo was in a relationship with a man who wasn’t fae, he was sure his peers would be scandalized if they found out, especially since he was an elemental. It wasn’t law, but elementals were encouraged to have kids so they could pass the gift on. They were strongly encouraged to have kids with other elementals since it would almost guarantee having a kid with the elemental gift. Leo was sure that if Percy and Annabeth weren’t soulmates then he’d be encouraged to get into a relationship with him. Leo felt lucky that none of the other elementals at The Academy were around his age. He didn’t want to deal with that.

Though Leo knew his friends weren’t bigots, he just couldn’t gather the courage to tell them. None of them knew, not even Piper.

He kept his secret and he intended to do so until he miraculously got the courage to fess up.

“Why should I have love in my heart for you? You stole my stash of sweets and ate half of them,” Leo responded to Piper.

“But I apologized for it!” Piper insisted with a whine. “And I even replaced the ones I ate.”

“Nothing could ever be as good as my mom’s sweets.”

“Also I convinced her to send you more!”

“She would have done it anyway because she loves me.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible. I hate you.”

Leo laughed. He strolled over to Piper and kissed her cheek. “Love you too, Pipes!” With that, he rushed over to the door and left the dormitory to the sound of Piper’s protests and complaints. He grinned as he pulled the hood over his cloak over his head.

The walk to their meeting spot was long. The path was confusing but Leo was sure he could do it with his eyes closed due to how many times he walked the path.

He discovered the secret spot when he went out walking after exams, drained and wanting a quiet escape. He’d been exploring a cave behind a waterfall when he slipped in the dark and tumbled down a path that had been nearly impossible to see in the dark. From there, he wandered until he was in a hidden grove. Leo wasn’t much of a nature enthusiast, but even he couldn’t deny the beauty of it.

Leo only had a few minutes to look around, admiring the flowers that grew so beautifully, unlike anything he’d ever seen, the glittering pond that was as clear as the sky, the trees that contained species he’d never seen before, and so much more. Leo concluded that it was enchanted, so someone could only enter through the path, invisible to everyone except those who knew about it and those like Leo, who stumbled into it unknowingly. It must’ve been hidden for years judging by how pristine and magical it seemed, with types of fauna that even Leo, a fae, couldn’t identify (though that wasn’t saying too much since Leo’s knowledge of plants wasn’t the best).

Leo would have loved to sit there all day, but his admiration for the place was cut off by a low growl. He spun around, his thoughts screeching to a halt when he saw the wolf behind him. He’d been expecting a wolf the moment he heard the growl, but he hadn’t been expecting a pup. The wolf had a beautiful mix of white and silver fur with clear, blue eyes. Leo didn’t know how to translate wolf years to human years, but he didn’t think the pup was much older than he was.

Leo should’ve been scared. He stumbled into a place that was unknown to him and now was faced with a wolf growling at him.

Leo wasn’t scared. However, he was a reckless idiot. Leo couldn’t help but find the wolf… cute. It was cute and highly amusing to Leo’s worn-out brain. He started laughing.

The wolf abruptly stopped growling, caught off guard by the fae laughing at him. Leo couldn’t stop giggling now that he started. “Aww, is the puppy mad at me?”

The wolf, angered by his taunt, started barking at him. Leo kept laughing and mentally concluded that the wolf must’ve been a werewolf, judging by how he seemed to understand Leo. “You aren’t intimidating at all, puppy. Your barks are too cute.”

The wolf growled in warning before lunging at Leo. Leo easily dodged the attack. Leo must’ve had a death wish because he kept taunting the wolf. “Is your bark worse than your bite? With a bark like that, I’m dying to see how pitiful your bite is.”

They kept up their little squabble for a few minutes, with the wolf trying to attack Leo and with Leo dodging seamlessly and taunting the poor guy. Eventually, the wolf got tired and fed with Leo. He waited until the right moment to strike, when Leo took a step back and stumbled over a tree root. Before he could right himself, the wolf lunged at him but transformed back into his human form mid-attack. In a matter of seconds, Leo was lying on his back in a strange grove, pinned to the ground by a very pissed-off boy who had a firm grip on his wrists.

Leo was right with his age estimate. The boy looked to be the same age as him, with short, blond hair, sky-blue eyes, and a small scar on his lip. He looked pissed enough to kill Leo, but Leo wasn’t scared. He hummed as he evaluated the boy. “You were cuter as a puppy.”

The boy’s grip on his wrists tightened. “Shut up! I could kill you if I wanted,” he growled out. Leo was being threatened but he couldn’t help but find the boy cute. He was trying so hard to be scary, but it wasn’t working on Leo in the slightest.

“Uh-huh, sure you could, puppy,” he shot back.

The boy glowered at him. Leo continued to grin at him.

“What are you doing here?” The boy asked. “You don’t belong. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Would you believe me if I said I wanted to see your cute face?” Leo asked. The boy was silent, continuing to glare at Leo. “I just stumbled upon it, okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to enter any private, magic, wolf property.”

The boy suddenly halted, confusion dawning on his features. He tilted his head as he puzzled out his words, which made him look even cuter than he already had. “What? But that’s impossible. Unless…”

Suddenly, the boy leaned down, sniffing at his neck. Leo couldn’t even make a snarky comment about it because the boy suddenly jerked back, his eyes wide. He suddenly moved off of Leo, stumbling a few feet away in his haste to get away from him. Leo sat up, frowning in confusion. He didn’t get the whole scent thing with werewolves, but he felt a little hurt that the boy disliked his scent so much.

The boy looked furious. He looked even angrier than he had earlier. He was so angry that his body was shaking with it, face red.

“Go. Now.”

Leo quickly rose to his feet, confused and finally a little scared. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your space. I promise I won’t-”

“Go!”

The boy looked away from Leo. He walked away to a tree stump and sat on it, sitting with his anger as he ignored Leo. Leo wasn’t sure what he did. Did he smell that bad? He made sure he bathed regularly. Did he just naturally smell awful but only to werewolves? He wasn’t sure but he didn’t want to upset the boy anymore. Teasing him had been fun but this was something else, something different. He seemed genuinely pissed off.

Leo paused before taking off one of the thread bracelets he was wearing. One of Leo’s friends, Annabeth, had taught him how to make magical bracelets to help him destress before finals. Finals in general were stressful, but it was even more so for Leo since he was so much younger and behind his classmates. The bracelet-making had helped him destress a bit. Of the bracelets he made, only two were decent. One was a red one that he was still wearing and the other was a light blue one that he’d taken off.

Leo gently placed the bracelet on the ground, near the boy. “I’m sorry, really. Here, you can take this gift if you want.”

The boy’s shoulders tensed. Leo didn’t want to get into a genuine fight, so he fled, leaving as quickly as he could.

Later that week, he heard rumors around The Academy about a werewolf pup that had been spotted lurking around the grounds. The students didn’t seem to think it was a threat, it was just a pup that ran off whenever anyone got too close, but it was strange. Werewolves lived nearby - there was even a huge wolf pack located within their town - but they tended to stay away from the school.

Leo would bet money that the pup was the one he met earlier that week.

Leo waited until the evening, when the grounds were nearly empty, to sneak out of the dorm and wander off into the woods right off the grounds. He wandered around, hoping to find the werewolf pup and not wind up torn apart.

Leo found the werewolf within a minute of wandering around the woods. He paused, staring at the wolf pup, who stared back at him. The wolf walked over to Leo and grabbed the hem of his cloak, tugging on it.

Leo quirked an eyebrow up at the wolf. “Do you want me to follow you? Or do you just want to eat my cloak?”

The wolf growled and continued to pull on his cloak.

“Okay, okay, I’ll follow you! You know, you could shift back and talk to me.”

The wolf ignored him and let go of his cloak. He walked off and looked over, waiting for Leo to follow him. Leo sighed and followed the wolf.

The wolf led him to the secret grove. Once they were there, the werewolf finally shifted back into his human form.

The boy fixed him with a firm stare.

“You smell weird,” the boy told him.

“Is that why you suddenly got upset with me?” Leo asked.

The boy blushed and looked away, fiddling with something on his wrist. Leo realized it was the bracelet he’d given him. He felt happiness fill his chest.

“More or less.”

“And… why did you drag me back here?”

The boy shifted on his feet. Leo could tell he was nervous and unsure of himself, that he was wondering if he wanted to do what he was about to do.

“I was thinking… we should become friends.”

That hadn’t been what Leo had been expecting.

“Really? You want to be friends with me, puppy?”

The boy scowled but quickly cleared up his face, appearing calm.

“Yes, even if you are annoying. This place… it thinks you’re worthy, so you must be an alright person.”

Leo looked around the place. “It’s very beautiful. What is this place?”

The boy seemed to calm down. He looked around the place, a small smile on his face. Leo thought he looked the best when he was smiling. “It belongs to my family. It’s been in our pack for generations. The future pack alpha is decided based on whoever this place grants access to. My family have been the pack leaders for three generations.”

“So does that mean I can become pack alpha?” Leo asked with a teasing grin.

The boy rolled his eyes. “Obviously not. You’re a fae, not a werewolf.”

“Then why am I allowed in here?”

The boy suddenly looked nervous. His cheeks flushed as he looked away. “It’s… complicated. Let’s just say it thinks you could be… a trusted companion of mine.”

“Does my new puppy companion have a name?”

The boy didn’t look upset or done with his teasing for the first time. Instead, a glint came to his eyes and he smiled at Leo.

“Jason Grace. And does the little fairy have a name?”

Leo barked out a laugh. He thought they would become good friends. “Leo Valdez. You better not forget it, puppy.”

And he didn’t. Their friendship slowly grew after that day. They would meet once a week every week Leo attended school until they were fourteen, which caused them to meet up much more often, practically every other day. Their friendship had been innocent at first, though Jason had a habit of giving Leo gifts. After they became friends on that fateful day, Jason had given him a crescent moon necklace, his face bright red as he put it on Leo. Leo wore it constantly. He rarely ever took it off, it was his prized possession. There came a point where the bracelet Leo had given Jason had worn down and would also no longer fit on his wrist. Leo offered to make him a new one, but Jason refused. Instead, he just attached it to his belt. Leo felt touched that he still kept the silly, little thing.

That wasn’t the only thing. Jason not only kept giving him random gifts, mainly food but also kept scenting him. Leo didn’t get the whole scent thing with werewolves but he let Jason do it anyway since it made him happy. He wondered why Jason would do something so risky. He thought it might cause complications if one of his pack smelled the scent of the future pack alpha on some fae student. However, Jason had assured him it would be okay, so he never brought it up. Besides, he didn’t know anything about werewolf customs and traditions anyway. Scenting could be a thing friends do.

Their friendship went from when they were eight to fourteen. At that point, Leo had feelings for Jason and couldn’t keep being just friends with the boy. So, he gathered up his courage and confessed to his friend.

After his confession, Jason just looked puzzled, tilting his head to the side. “I would hope you have feelings for me. It would be awkward to be courting someone who didn’t even like me.”

That was when they realized there had been some misunderstandings due to differing customs. Apparently, when Leo had given him the gift of the bracelet, without specifying what kind of gift it was, it was a signal that it was a courting gift, that it was a message that he was open to courting. Then, Jason gave Leo the necklace, which he not only accepted but wore every day. So, Jason had been courting him from that point forward. Leo asked why he wasn’t courting Jason if he gave Jason a gift, to which Jason rolled his eyes and told him that it was because fae don’t court others, courting was a werewolf thing.

Jason figured Leo must’ve known he was courting him since fae were supposed to be smart and Jason was doing everything you’d find in a basic courting guidebook. He made it as obvious as possible.

That confused Leo, though. “But why would you want to court me? I was such a little shit to you back then.”

That was when Jason got flustered and explained what true mates were. Apparently, according to the laws of their secret meeting place, the only people who could access the place were the pack alpha, the future pack alpha, and the true mates of the pack alpha and future pack alpha. He said that werewolves could tell who their true mate was because of their scent. Leo didn’t understand the whole scent thing, but Jason just said that the scent of their true mate ‘smelled right.’ He said that it was a scent that was most pleasant to them, that it somehow conveyed that they were the one.

When they first met, Jason was so upset because he found out the mean fae who bullied him was his true mate and thought the world was out to get him. He was determined to ignore it but, after being around his pack witnessing Hazel, a new addition to their pack, and Frank realizing they were true mates, he decided to give it a second shot. He figured he could court Leo and see if they would work well together. They had, and the two had been courting ever since.

“So, how do we get together after courting?” Leo asked.

Jason grinned and moved closer to Leo. He moved a hand to Leo’s neck, touching it gently. “Well, full werewolves have a mating ritual but we can’t do that since you’re not a werewolf. But… you can kiss me. You kiss me and I bite you, making you my mate.”

The two of them should have thought of the ramifications of a fae smelling like a werewolf and sporting a mating bite, but they didn’t. Instead, they were two dumb teenagers who were in love. Leo had kissed him and Jason had given him the bite.

Ever since that day, Leo wore shirts with a high enough collar to hide the bite, which wasn’t hard considering it was on the junction between his neck and shoulder. The two had been happily together since then.

Leo was brought out of the memories and into the present as he walked into the hidden grove. Jason was already waiting there and he beamed as he saw him. “Hey, puppy!” He bound toward Jason but frowned when he saw the expression on the other boy. He looked stressed and in mourning. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Jason looked up at Leo, his expression faltering. He stood up, pulling Leo into his arms. Leo paused, his hands slowly coming up to rub his back. “Puppy?” Even after all the years, his teasing nickname for Jason stayed and became affectionate.

Jason nuzzled Leo's neck before pulling away. He looked pained like he was about to do something he didn’t want to. Leo felt his stomach doing nervous flips. “Jace?”

“We need to talk,” Jason murmured, sounding more serious than Leo had ever heard before.

“What’s going on?” Leo wanted to make a joke but his brain wouldn’t work. He couldn’t think beyond his racing thoughts, wondering what happened to Jason. Was he okay? Was he hurt? Did something happen to his pack?

“One of the members of my pack found out about us,” Jason explained.

Leo felt his stomach drop. He knew they weren’t subtle, but he never thought this day would come. “Seriously?”

Jason nodded, expression growing grimmer. “Yes. He brought it up in a meeting. It caused a huge argument in our pack. I told them you were my true mate but they didn’t care. They… decided what to do going forward. They said… that we aren’t allowed to be together. I’m supposed to lead the pack and create future generations. They wouldn’t accept an outsider as my right hand. They wouldn’t accept… half-breed children. They’re going to set me up with a werewolf girl from another pack. One of the members of my pack is going to meet you next week to magically snap our mating bond. The bite will end up healing, but not fully.”

None of this made sense. Going into their relationship, they both knew this was a possible ending, that it was the most likely ending, but he never thought it would come. He felt like he was dreaming and this was a nightmare. He wanted to wake up to a reality where this wasn’t happening.

“Are you serious?” Leo asked, his voice trembling. It was useless to ask such a stupid question. He knew the answer. Jason would never lie to him.

Jason nodded. “I’m serious. I tried everything I could but with no luck. My dad was having none of it. He’s still the pack alpha, so I have to listen to him.”

Tears burned in Leo’s eyes. He furiously blinked them away, not wanting to show Jason how much this hurt him, but some tears managed to slip out and roll down his cheeks. Jason noticed and carefully wiped the tears away.

“Why do we have to listen to those stupid, stuck in their ways werewolves? Why can’t they accept us?” Leo asked, his voice cracking.

Jason pulled him into another hug, holding him close. Leo let himself cry into Jason’s shoulder.

“I don’t know. If I knew how to change their minds, I would. I'm sorry. I didn’t want us to end like this.”

“Do we have to?” Leo asked, his voice small.

He heard Jason inhale sharply. “I think so. The pack will be watching me closely until my new mate arrives. After she comes and the ceremony is done… well, it won’t be pleasant to… be with anyone else, romantically or sexually. Also, she’ll be able to know my emotions and some of my thoughts from our bond. I know my pack. They will choose someone who will be loyal to them. I don’t think we’ll be able to slip one past them.”

“Well, can’t we just… run away? Can’t we leave all this behind us? We’re adults now. We could leave and go live on our own,” Leo suggested.

He heard a heavy sigh. Jason pulled away from the hug, looking sadly at Leo. “As much as I love you, I can’t do that. My pack… I love them so much. They’re not just my family, they’re so much more. Even if their views are backwards, they’re still my pack. I can’t leave them.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” Leo asked, getting angry. “You would do it if you truly loved me.”

Jason’s expression turned stern and Leo realized he might have crossed a line. “I can’t. You want me to leave behind everything I know and everyone I love. Would you leave behind all your friends and family if I asked you to? Leave your friends without any way to contact them since you’re now a traitor? Leave your mom abandoned and alone?”

Leo hadn’t considered it like that. He hadn’t thought about Jason, about all his friends and family he would be leaving behind. If he left a traitor, he wouldn’t be able to contact any of them. Leo wouldn’t be able to do that. He thought he might be able to do it if it was just his friends he left behind, but not his mom. Leo could never abandon his mom, never leave her behind. He loved her more than anything. He shook his head. “No. I’m sorry.” His hands clutched Jason’s shirt. “I don’t want to say goodbye. I… can’t lose you.”

Jason gave Leo a sad smile. “I know. I feel the same way. I wish we could be together. I wish it didn’t have to be like this. You’re… one of the best things that ever happened to me. I’ll never, ever forget you. Not even the gods could make me forget my love for you. I… don’t know how I’ll get over the loss of losing my other half, of losing my better half. I love you, Leo Valdez. I always have and I always will.”

Leo felt completely hopeless. This was it. Their relationship was ending. This wasn’t a nightmare he could wake up from or an illusion he could snap out of. He would never be able to see Jason after this. He would be losing not only his soulmate but his best friend as well. It felt wrong that the world wasn’t ending when it felt like Leo’s world was crashing around him. He didn’t know how to go back to his normal life after this. Leo signed up for this life and this inevitable pain, but it was so much worse now that he was finally feeling it. He cursed the gods and every being he could think of. He cursed their lives. He cursed their forbidden love. He cursed Jason for making Leo love him. He cursed himself for making Jason go through this pain.

Leo leaned in, kissing Jason even as tears streamed down his face. It was a sorrowful kiss, filled with their sadness and mixed with the salty taste of tears. Despite never wanting it to end, Leo slowly pulled away. Jason was crying now. Leo hadn’t ever seen Jason cry before.

“I love you. I love you so much. I wish we could be together. Maybe… someday in the future. I don’t think I’ll be able to love anyone else. Maybe… we’ll be able to be together, whether it’s in the future, our next life, or another universe. I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as I have to. There is no world in which I wouldn’t love you. I love you, Jason Grace. I always will.”

Leo took a few moments to admire Jason. This would be the last time he would ever see him. He took in all of him, all the features he grew to love. He was still so handsome, even when crying. It wasn’t only his looks but all of him, all of Jason. Whatever werewolf they chose for Jason would be lucky to have him.

With what little strength he had left, he kissed Jason’s cheek before turning and leaving. He didn’t let himself look back. He knew if he did, he wouldn’t ever be able to leave. He hesitated for a moment at the entrance of the grove before leaving. Jason didn’t call after him. Leo didn’t stop or look back.

As Leo walked back to The Academy, tears streamed down his face. He didn’t know how he’d explain away his red eyes to his friends. He figured he’d finally tell them the truth.

The only comfort he had was that they would have a chance to be together in another life, in another universe.

What he didn’t know was that the two of them were doomed in every life, in every universe.

[shakespeareallanpoe]

Batfamily Secret Santa

With the holidays coming up here's my headcanon for what each of the batfamily members would get each other if they were doing a secret Santa. (And yes, I know Bruce is canonically Jewish, but I believe either Tim or Dick are some denomination of Christian so I'd imagine they have a mixed holiday celebration at the manor)

Bruce (got Stephanie)

Ok so Bruce is super generous on a good day and I can't imagine Steph wouldn't be dropping hints since Thanksgiving, so he'd probably give her everything she asked for plus a new movie Wayne manor doesn't have, so after the celebration they could watch it together as a one-on-one bonding thing since he's pretty big on quality time in some versions.

Dick (got Bruce)

Bruce really doesn't expect anything for the holidays which is perfect because I have this headcanon that Dick is actually really bad with giving gifts. Someone bullied your little sister? Not on his watch. Life advice? He'll pull from his past experiences to tell you what not to do. Emotional support? Bro he's there. But birthday/anniversary/holiday gifts? Expect a mug with Snoopy's face because you both watched Charlie Brown together once. In July. He's just that kind of gift giver. So I'm thinking Dick would get Bruce a dinosaur themed 1,000 piece puzzle because Bruce likes dinosaurs and he likes puzzles so boom! Match made in heaven, ya boi is a genius. 😎

Barbara (got Jason)

Babs is a pretty practical person so her secret Santa to Jason probably consisted of a gift bag with manly smelling body wash, a gift card to Barnes & Noble, and a CD mixtape of Jason's Spotify favorites so he can pop it into a car and listen to it during long car rides.

Duke (got Damian)

So Duke is a pretty creative person when he's passionate about a project and his ideas are definitely one of a kind, but I think for some time he would really struggle with coming up with a secret Santa for Damian because he isn't all that close with Robin. He knew Damian appreciated weapons but he's also the type of person to not want Damian to think that weapons are all he is by getting him one. Presents for Damian's pets are off the table since Damian spoils them on every day of the year, so Duke would probably gift Damian something for the child he is, since Damian never had a childhood. Maybe a telescope so Damian could look at the stars with his family on clear nights. Just like what Duke's mom gave him as a boy for the holidays one year.

Cass (got Dick)

Cass didn't receive material gifts for most of her life so she probably enlisted Alfred's help. Given that the butler knows Dick pretty well, they decided to give him a gift basket with blue ribbon that had a T-shirt of his favorite band, some flash fuzzy socks (Wally would approve), and his favorite holiday candy. Dick is really more of a quality time kind of person if you want to make him to feel special, so it didn't need to be elaborate anyway.

Jason (got Cass)

I don't care how much people try to make Jason into a sexist, ignorant-to-the-fine-arts kind of person. Jason doesn't give a fuck about gender stereotypes and he loves learning, especially about classical things like literature or fine arts. For his secret Santa to Cass he got them both tickets for a weekend trip to Russia to see a ballet in person in one of the grandest cities in Russia. Cass has obviously been to many places across the world, but it was always for a mission and nothing more. For the holidays, Jason gifted her two days where they could travel and explore the culture, living like locals or being those stereotypical tourists just for shits and giggles. Just a few days without work to relax and live happy lives as regular people. When Cass got her gift Jason pulled her aside afterwards to explain it, so she wouldn't cry in front of everyone. And she did cry. Just a little. So did Jason.

Tim (got Duke)

Tim wouldn't think too hard about Duke's gift since he knows the people Duke hangs out with. Or could find them. Getting Duke a gift was as simple as casually running into Duke's friends and asking them about what Duke likes. Not that he or Duke's friends ever mentioned this to Signal, so when he opened his secret Santa and found some hyper-specific things amongst some more generic gifts, he began to wonder just how much Tim knew about his life.

Stephanie (got Babs)

Steph is absolutely the type of person to get someone for Christmas something they want themselves. So a lot of the gifts Bruce gave her look similar to what Babs got from Steph. Not that she means anything by it, but in her mind if it's worth wanting, someone else close to her probably wants it too. And Babs doesn't mind. She already bought herself a new desk light after the old one got knocked down one too many times, so it doesn't matter if she has a cute keychain to go on it.

Damian (got Tim)

Regardless of his age I think a younger sibling will always be a younger sibling. Damian would probably give Tim a large fancy gift bag filled with tissue paper... and nothing else. He'd do it just to see Tim's reaction to rifling through the bag for several moments to come up empty. Then, when Tim admits defeat, Damian would hand over a gift he asked Jon to pick up for Connor, nicely wrapped with Tim's forged signature and everything. He wasn't about to get Tim a gift but it's okay because he knew Tim would've somehow forgotten to get his boyfriend a holiday gift anyway. (And he did)

[hymemena]

My Spotify Wrapped 2023 Top Ten Lyric Starters

Feel free to change pronouns as necessary, and remember to specify muse for multimuse blogs.

CW: General ns.fw, blood, rough sex, toxicity, daddy kink, manipulation, drug use, electrostim, alcohol use

—

ASHNIKKO - TANTRUM

"Riots on the TV."

"They wanna keep it PG."

"All their daughters wanna be me."

"Believe me."

"I'm not nice, I'm a meanie."

"I did something bad."

"Please don't get attached."

"There's no coming back."

"Break a heart like an eggshell."

"Throw a tantrum, baby."

"Baby, doll me up 'cause I'm a brat."

"I'm a brat."

"I'm a handful."

"Bitch, I am one."

"Make it tragic."

MOXIFLOXI - BRAT

"Spoil me, buy me things!"

"Golden watches, diamond rings."

"Take me out and pamper me."

"Show me I'm your everything."

"Bend me over, make me scream."

"Choke me, hold me, breed me, stroke me."

"Make me say those dirty things."

"Bring me joy!"

"I'm your girl/boy and you're my toy!"

"Buy me gifts. Give me more!"

"Make me feel like I'm adored."

"Put me in my place."

"Slap my face."

"Treat me like your little whore."

"Use me 'til you make me come."

ORGY - TALK SICK

"You've got some nerve to throw it in my face."

"They want your money, honey."

"Don't they seem so loving?"

"Trick or treat and we fade away."

"Kicked to the curb on judgement day."

"A pinch of salt in your Hater-ade?"

"Just a little bit of torture."

"Move a little closer."

"Listen to the clock tick."

"Tell me if you want it."

"I can make you toxic."

"Come fake the fire."

"Get you higher than high, suck you dryer than dry."

"Race you to the steeple."

"On the bright side, we should bang one last time."

PARANOiD DJ - GET HOOKED (VALENTINO'S DEAL)

"So, I'm the boss man."

"I've got anything you'll ever want."

"Call me sir, call me Daddy, call me CEO."

"But for you, Baby Doll, just call me -name-."

"'Cause I run this empire."

"I flaunt this."

"Every day I'm gon' be cashin' the checks."

"Eyes up, show the man respect."

"Come on, Baby."

"You'll feel pleasures that you never knew were real before."

"With my hands on your hips and my taste on your lips?"

"Take you to your limit 'til you give in."

"Got you feeling like I'm all that you need."

"All in the service of insatiable greed."

"Don't want no backtalk, just follow my word."

UNDERSCORES - SPOILED LITTLE BRAT

"Am I extreme?"

"Strictly business."

"Take a picture, hope it lasts long."

"Yeah, I live for the attention."

"I got a problem and it's not my fault."

"Why would I pay it any mind?"

"But yeah, I guess I must have pissed you off."

"Thinking about a little something something in my septum and a couple tattoos."

"Gossip 'bout a little something something even though nobody ever asked you."

"Shut your mouth, listen up when I talk!"

"I'm a spoiled little brat and I get what I want!"

"Stick around and I'ma do my worst."

"What the Hell did you expect?"

"Criticize a little something something that I did because somebody had to."

"If I did a little something something in the bathroom could I get it past you?"

GENITORTURERS - MACHINE LOVE

"Come on, feel my affection."

"Feel my affection for machine love."

"Just plug in, then fade out."

"It's the real deal."

"It's the real deal, electric feel."

"Trip your pulse, your heart beats faster."

"Ask yourself how long you can last."

"Come on, feel my danger."

"I'll be your cheap slut savior."

"I am the one who makes you want it."

"Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex!"

"Does your libido feel my sex?"

"Come tonight."

"Be with me all of the time."

"I am the one who makes you come."

CALL ME KARIZMA - ART HOE

"Never had her dad there."

"Kissed a lot of boys but never seems to have care."

"She just wants vodka and cigarettes."

"Has the dealer on speed dial when she gets stressed."

"She knows, she knows, she knows, she knows that I can't resist her ways."

"I'm so exposed to all the tricks she plays."

"I think I fell in love with an art hoe."

"I think I love getting my heart broke."

"Wakes up at noon, gets up when she has to."

"Cocaine in her bathroom."

"She just wants love that she never gets."

"Has my number on speed dial when she needs sex."

"Caught up and never talked to her."

"She ripped my heart in half, took me for all I have."

"Got nothing left but it's cool."

NEW YEARS DAY & CHRIS MOTIONLESS - ANGEL EYES

"There's something about you I cannot explain."

"I just want to know you."

"It's not what you said, not the way you said it."

"I'm under your spell and I don't regret it."

"Take my breath."

"Baby, reach inside my chest."

"You can have whatever's left."

"Baby, I'm possessed."

"Don't you try to hide with those angel eyes?"

"If you let me inside, I won't hold back this time."

"More than paralyzed."

"Oh, it's the chase you like?"

"I should get away, I want you way too much."

"I don't care how many times it takes to get through to you."

"This is a force that not even God can stop."

DANNY GONZALES - SPOOKY HO

"Make that ass shake like that ass is scared of me."

"All these other spooky dudes can't compare to me."

"October 31st, bitch, you know what I'ma be."

"I'ma be a ho for Halloween."

"Yo, happy Halloweeny!"

"My shorts looking teeny?"

"My big fat pumpkin pie going trampoliney."

"Her man wanna be me."

"She bad like a meanie."

"I knew we'd get along 'cause she loves Frankenweenie."

"Pull up to the party on a broomstick."

"I'm too thick."

"Crush a bunch of Smarties up, take two hits."

"Costume shopping, I'ma pop a tag."

"Bitch, I'm sexy Freddy Krueger, I'm about to pop off!"

GENITORTURERS - CUM JUNKIE

"I want your body."

"I want your mind."

"You know you like the way it feels."

"You cannot hide."

"Keep on thrillin' me."

"You're drillin' me hard."

"Keep me up all night."

"This conversation gets me high."

"Let's go."

"Turn me on."

"Can't stop feelin' me up all night, yeah?"

"Are you feelin' me?"

"I'm on a mission."

"Wanna keep you high."

"Too many kisses for alibi."

[roo-bastmoon]

Checklist for Face Day

While you wait around today, please use a QUEUE on YouTube instead of a playlist, as this is the last day of tracking for Set Me Free Pt. 2 and it takes too long for playlists to count. Here's a good one.

Around 8pm EST, you need to start playing Jimin-discography playlists on Spotify to set him up with a high position on their Daily Global Artists chart.

Later tonight, Jimin's interview will appear on Jimmy Fallon, on NBC at 11:35pm EST--approximately 25 minutes before the Like Crazy Music Video Premiere. If you cannot watch it in your region, Our Magic Shop on Discord will be hosting a stream of it under the magic-shop-media thread.

Jimin may also go live on WeVerse before the premiere drops. You're gonna wanna have a few screens around you tonight so you don't miss out.

It is crucial you use another device while all this is going on so you can tune in for a clean stream of the Music Video Premier because those views will be added for the charts and it is extremely unlikely a premiere video will be frozen or deleted.

Cometh the hour, you watch the crap out of the music video--you like, you share, you send it to all your friends and social media accounts and encourage folks to watch it.

Next you're going to want to go to all your pre-sale emails and actually go in and download your purchases. If you do not download your sale, it does not count for the chart.

Then you're going to go into every iTunes and Amazon account you have and you're going to order a digital copy of the FACE album if you haven't already.

One credit card or gift card = 1 account = 1 album purchase. Buy as many as you can afford. There is no faster, cleaner way to chart an artist than to buy their digital album.

Then it's time to actively stream on your premium accounts.

TURN OFF YOUR VPN!

FACE will feature five original songs in this order:

“Face-off”

“Interlude: Dive”

“Like Crazy”

“Alone”

“Set Me Free Pt.2”

In addition, the tracklist will be bolstered by an English-language version of “Like Crazy.”

Stream the whole album but our main job is to prioritize Like Crazy Korean and English versions.

You know the drill. Search manually on YouTube for the first 24 hours. Play it all the way through at 51% volume. Click around on other Jimin or BTS music videos for about a minute. Search again. Play again.

Prioritize both versions of Like Crazy but build in diversity, pause, adjust things, act like a human. You can listen to it 50 times, then you need to switch to another premium account.

Because YouTube is being a little bitch and fucking up the stream count for Jimin right now (don't stop using it--every stream is critical right now, but you can be grump about it while you do), I also signed up for a free trial of Apple Music today and have liked Jimin's profile there.

DO NOT ADD HIS SONGS TO YOUR LIBRARY. If you bought FACE songs from iTunes, go into your Apple Music account and delete them from your library for now. If they are in your library, Apple Music will automatically play from there and it won't count for charts.

Just go under Jimin's profile and play them that way. You can keep playing them from your main account without having to switch Apple Music accounts. No limits on number of plays, just click around on other songs for 30-60 seconds from time to time and don't loop. This is gonna be critical for supplementing YouTube handicaps.

While you're working on that, you gotta fire up your premium Spotify accounts. Make sure all your accounts are following the artist as a monthly listener.

You know you can play something 20 times on Spotify and then you're done with that account for that song for the day. So keep an eye out for how many times the songs of FACE play in your list and set an alarm so you can switch to the next premium Spotify account and keep working.

There are two ways of charting FACE on Spotify. You can play the album all the way through, with the songs all in order, or you can prioritize the title track and use the rest of the album and other BTS songs as filler.

I'm gonna be following JRJ-OT7's lead on this because Jennifer has more than earned my trust when it comes to chart goals, but if you want to tailor your own experience, here are examples of how to flesh things out (album order vs. title track priority):

If you're making your own lists and queues and whatnot, please remember to include fillers like On the Street, Smoke Sprite, and Vibe as new releases and the Astronaut, Wildflower, More, Fake Love, and Sweet Night for milestones. Please also add in Left and Right, Dreamers, and Stay Alive as we only have four days left to help Jungkook break the 1 Billion Record.

So to recap:

*Watch and share the hell out of the premiere video.

*Prioritize the title track Like Crazy (English and Korean versions) but it's a short album so hit all songs in your playlists.

*Download your pre-sale purchases.

*Prioritize making digital purchases today. Make new accounts and use gift cards if you need to.

*Premium streaming accounts count three times as much in the charts. Use free trials for YouTube, Spotify, Apple Music, and Amazon Music. Stream the album like crazy on all of those. (If you have premium accounts, you can open all of those in their own browsers and hit 'em all at once on one device if you have to--headphone recommended so you don't go nuts.)

*Delete Face songs from your library in Apple Music first.

*Search manually the first 24 hours on YouTube, then switch to playlists.

*Shazam the songs as you play them.

*Never loop. Never shuffle. Never use VPN.

*Ignore the bullshit from antis and drama queens. Today and tomorrow belong entirely to our artist. We focus on Jimin and only Jimin, and we encourage each other with a positive attitude, good humor, and sheer grit.

I intend to be awake and stream actively for 24 straight hours starting at midnight EST tonight, so I'm going to hop offline now and get some rest.

If you have questions, you might want to take a look at the BTS Tutorial masterlist.

Good luck and God's speed, puppykitties! Let's lift our boy up!

[oven-thermometer]

Hello again, anon that asked for the Samael sfw ABC's. That was great, really loved it. Thought you hit the nail on the head. I don't know if you have head cannons for him with an s/o but if you do, what are they? How would he attempt to win the s/o over if they came with and relied on the Horsemen? I was just curious, your ABC's was so good it got me thinking.

a/n: hello again samael anon! im sorry this took me so long, i haven't gotten back into my writing groove yet and I'm having a tough time in my life rn, but I miss writing so thank you for requesting :))

Also! I made a small, very inaccurate Samael playlist on Spotify!

warnings: none rlly, not betad and I rushed this

when Samael wants something, he's going to get it regardless of the cost. whether he needs to court you with honeyed words or beautiful gifts he's going to lay down his best cards to win you over.

only later in the relationship does he realise he likes your personality, your eyes, your laugh and...when did your smile get so dazzling dammit?

and the thing is, like I said before, he will do anything to get what he wants - you smiling included.

your laugh, ringing as clear as bells along his castle's walls, wrings his nonexistent heart. he may be eternally naturally warm, but something about the way you actually tend to care about listening to him makes his chest bubble with warmth.

that's another thing - he does love when you talk, but he also loves it when you listen. everyday he has to give orders and speak to countless of his soldiers or allies or even enemies, although you are the only one he ever wants to speak to.

he could talk for hours about everything you're not necessarily supposed to know about and watch as your eyes light up as you actually take in what he has to say. that same damned fuzzy feeling is back.

similarly, he doesn't mind when you ramble on and on right next to his ear while sit on his shoulder. he could be trying to pour himself into his work and you'd be right there, speaking your mind.

he'll make noncommittal grunts or single-word comments along the lines of whatever you're talking about. When you quiet down he'll gladly nudge you with one of the horns protruding from the side of his face, encouraging you to continue.

he is bold and brash, so expects you to be the same :)

samael also loves it when you have to literally climb him like a jungle gym. it amuses him when you struggle to wiggle your way up his arm or around his head when you want to get somewhere.

he'll even purposely make it difficult for you by moving his arm over when you're trying to get a grip or shake his head a little too violently while you hang on for dear life.

although if you ever manage to fall off he'll catch you without a second thought, and scold you without one too.

if you found your way to samael while in the company of the horsemen, samael would be even more intrigued.

a human? with the horsemen? in his realm? and you haven't been eaten by a demon yet?? he's impressed.

he's incredibly curious and will interrogate the horsemen about why you're with them. when he learns from either them or you that you're one of the last living humans - his interest is piqued even more.

you are rare, and that makes you valuable. he has little want to kill you, but he would love to keep you around purely for the fact that you're one of the only humans that he's been interested in.

scared humans bore him, but you - you were confident in your protection and didn't seem to care that he was a demon king. how foolish.

if the horsemen need something from him, he'd probably trade it for conversations with you.

and that is largely how your relationship began! he would have you walk with him across his kingdom (with the horsemen nearby) and enquire about your life or humans in general.

he's naturally curious and wants to know all he can about a potential enemy or ally. that includes humans.

he doesn't feel remorseful when you tell him of how you came to be with the horsemen and how the apocalypse started - if his armies hadn't marched on earth, the angels would have taken over and likely stormed hell itself. and he couldn't have that.

when your voice cracks or the tears that threaten to spill cling to your lashes though, he remains quiet. if you start to resent him he's going to get nowhere.

from there your friendship grew and your time in his company multiplied.

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

Of New Traditions and Christmas Ornaments

dick grayson x reader

(A/N): Ha ha you thought you were done with me? Well, you were wrong. I felt like I didn’t get enough of your prompts in the first one and I really wanted to write a fic with Dick because I feel like I want to write a lot of things with him and then none of them get finished, so call this self indulgent. Hope you like it @citrinesparkles!

wc: ~800

warnings: explicit mentions of christmas

~~

You’re just taping down the last of the garland around your TV stand when you hear the door open. Your christmas spotify playlist is on in the background as it has been since you started pulling out your decorations just under an hour ago. 

Only a handful of people have a key to your apartment, and you were only expecting one tonight. Sure enough, Dick comes up behind you and you turn to face him and greets you with a kiss and a quick hug before holding up a small red bag. He holds it out to you with a curtsey. 

“For you, my dear.” You chuckle at him before taking the bag. 

“Why thank you very much, kind sir.”  You take out the top layer of white tissue paper and pull out a small wooden ornament. Your mouth drops open when you turn it around. Burnt into the wood are the words “Our First Christmas Together” in cursive font. Under that, your names and the year are also burnt in. 

You pull Dick into a hug, your arms around his neck and your face buried in your shoulder.  

“Dickie, it's beautiful.” There’s a relieved smile on Dick’s face when he pulls back. 

“I didn’t know if it was going to be too soon because it’s our first winter together even though we’ve been together for most of the year and I don’t want this relationship to go away but-”

“Hey.” You take his hand and squeeze it. “I love it. Thank you.” You lean down to put it on top of your box of ornaments. 

“Help me with the tree garland?” 

“Just tell me what to do.” 

The garland around the tree goes much faster when you don’t have to travel around it yourself. Instead you pass the long strand of garland to Dick so he can do the opposite side of the tree and pass it back to you. Once you’ve gotten to the end, you leave dick to finish and start pulling out ornaments. 

You don't have a ton of ornaments in your apartment. You left most of the nostalgic ones your mom favored with her. You didn't even want to relive your elementary school attempt at sports at her house, there’s no way you want to in your own apartment. Your tree also isn’t very big, so you hand Dick one of the sets of classic ornaments you bought your first Christmas in your own apartment and hang the second yourself. And after that, all that’s left is the topper and the ornament Dick just brought you. It’s not heavy in your hands, but it feels like it should be. 

When you were offered ornaments made by five, by eight, by twelve year old you, you told your parents that you’d collect your own nostalgic ornaments. You didn’t need theirs. 

When you look up from the ornament, Dick is watching you, a fond look on his face. You offer it to him but he shakes his head. 

“Your tree and your gift.” You pull him towards you instead, your back against his front. Dick adapts immediately, wrapping his arms around your shoulders so they grasp each other over your collarbones. 

There’s an empty spot in the middle of the tree, right at your eye level, and you gently work the twine over the pine needles and let the ornament hang. 

The tree topper feels less monumental than hanging the ornament was and you quickly stand on your tippy toes to add it to the top of your tree. You turn around to face Dick. 

“Crappy Hallmark movie?” you suggest. 

“Is there any other kind?” 

You laugh, nudging the empty ornament box into the corner of your living room. Dick hands you the empty box that held your lights and garland and you stack the empty topper box on top of those before dropping onto your couch. 

“You pick the movie, I’ll make the hot chocolate?” Dick’s still standing and you take a second to just look at him before you answer. He’s wearing a dark blue chrismukkah sweater, rows of dreidels and menorahs in between rows of ornaments and christmas trees,—a mixing of his and Bruce’s family traditions that Dick ignited a couple years after Bruce took him in. Bruce used to do the same thing with his parents, Dick told you once— black sweatpants, and nightwing socks you got him ages ago. 

“Yeah, sounds good,” you say, your chest warm. 

Dick washes the pot while the cocoa cools to drinkable temperature despite your protests, and you’ve settled on a movie by the time he sits down and hands you your Christmas wreath mug. His reindeer mug is held close to his chest by the hand not moving to wrap around yours. 

Your cocoa is done by the end of the movie. By the middle of the second movie, you’ve put the mugs in the sink, grabbed a candy cane, and sat back down, and Dick’s curled up with his head using your thigh as a pillow. By the end, Dick’s sleeping, blowing slow breaths rhythmically in and out as you card your fingers through his hair. You click down to the next suggested movie and hit play. 

[signedkoko]

hai!!!! i'm here 2 request a romantic hazbin hotel matchup :3

(i'm genuinely so sorry if this isn't detailed enough i'm really bad at details and i'm also very unserious)

Call me lux, lucia or vii! i'm a bigender (does this count as male??) fella and i kiss boys i'm a boy kisser and i'm an ISTP and a scorpio!!! and i'm chinese by the way

FASHION/APPEARANCE: i have like shoulder length black hair with red streaks, and i'm around 5'2 i believe? and i wear a lot of heavy eyeliner lol

in terms of fashion style, i'd say i'm pretty jirai kei or goth in general, i go through a lot of eyeliner, and i'm a big fan of the color maroon and pink!!

OVERALL PERSONALITY: i have a resting bitch face so it's easy for a lot of people to assume i'm silently judging everyone around me like an edgelord, when in reality i'm probably thinking about something really fucking dumb like "what if the universe is donut shaped?" i'm the type of person to blurt out something really dumb in the middle of a conversation. i'm an impulsive and spontaneous person, but only once you get to know me. otherwise i'm really introverted and will unintentionally glare at people if i find them interesting. i can tolerate most people, until they just start becoming straight up offensive jerks.

INTERESTS/LIKES: i have a lot of different interests and hobbies, like insect taxidermy, coding, i play the piano and cello, i do chinese opera, wushu, badminton, knitting, baking, and im really into digital art and animation! im also a really big music person, (MY SPOTIFY WRAPPED WAS AROUND 150k MINUTES!! THATS ABOUT 104 DAYS!!!) im really into bossa nova, edm, 80e goth, breakbeat, and heavy metal :D i don't get much sleep, don't need much sleep to keep me going. i also like my coffee double double (which is canadian for 2 cream 2 sugar.) or black. ALSO LOVE SOUR CANDY AND SPICY FOOD! i have a super high spice tolerance and will gladly eat my friends food if it's too spicy for them. my favourite food is hotpot!

FLAWS/DISLIKES: sometimes i have a hard time taking things seriously, and i don't really have a filter, so a lot of the time im brutally honest or i slip up and start insulting people BUT IM REALLY TEYING NOT TO DO THAT ANYMORE!!! i also have a tendency to gossip, but only to select people i know won't spill the secret to anyone else. i'm not a fan of busy and loud environments, sudden loud noises, and people who are generally uncool and jerks, but i can pretty much tolerate anyone else

IM SO SORRY IF THIS WAS TOO LONG OR LACKED DETAIL I JUST KINDA YAPPED ON AND ON!!! MAKE SURE TO TAKE BREAKS AND STAY AWESOME I LOVE YOUR WORK!!! :3

You got...Angel Dust!

It's good that you like pink and maroon because this spider is covered in it! Angel loves all things soft and pink, which also describes you! He's extremely fashionable and adores yours, even if it leans towards a more 'darl' aesthetic than his. 

If anyone can handle a resting bitch face, it's this guy. Both of you can seem really intimidating to others, which melts away the moment the two of you laugh or talk about anything. It's visible how much you melt around each other, especially Angel. Once he's in your company, he just wants to chill and hear you talk. 

One thing Angel does make fun of you for is your spectrum of music. He is super into edm and excitable music, and knowing you are too only makes it funny when your playlist switches from bossa nova to heavy metal. Overall, Angel isn't very picky about music, and hearing you play instruments starts to loosen him up to softer, gentler varieties. 

The demon has an insatiable sweet tooth; he loves all things candy and all things sweet. Often, when you two go out, you'll switch things on your plates for the other's preference. Angel gets a lot of candy as 'gifts' and will give you anything sour or spicy out of the mix. Of course, if anything is too sweet for you, Angel is more than happy to snatch it for himself! 

If you ever take Angel out for hotpot, it'd need to have a mild section of broth at least! He would die using the spicy broth, but at least this way you can both enjoy it together!

Expect matching outfits or themes, tasting each other's food a lot, and Angel requesting that you play songs for him to sing along with all the time.

Authors Note - I do matchups for male readers!! So its totally cool either way. Also I found this so funny, I am canadian and I also drink double double + I lived in China (Chengdu + Beijing) for a handful of months as a teen. I had so much hotpot but I am so bad with spice it killed me 🤭 Thank you for requesting!

[cescalr]

stalia, 17

... I knew this was a big risk, given my taste in music. So.

Stalia + Yeah Yeah Yeah (V2) by Jack Conte, for the spotify wrapped ask game. I really don't know how to write this as actually stalia, since the whole song is about a failed relationship. Whilst this is accurate to canon, alas, it also breaks my weak little heart :(. So, fair warning. Angst ahead! Feel free to repeat request, if you weren't looking for heartbreak at half nine in the goddamn morning.

As a... consolation prize? I guess - have a link; my stalia playlist.

And finally, of course; read this on Ao3 instead, if you like!

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I knew it all along I knew it from the very start And I felt it in my heart If there's even one to feel, oh-oh   I bought you a gift It's a picture frame for my face When you decide to place me in the past 'Cause nothing lasts Yeah nothing lasts No nothing lasts   You're taking off your clothes I hear echoes of her breathing But she is fading into the past At last At long last At long last   Yeah, yeah, yeah, I knew it all along I knew it from the very start And I felt it in my heart If there's even one to feel (To—! To—! To—!) Let me be! Let me alone! (Water me) (My memories are wilting)   Yeah, yeah, yeah, I knew it all along I knew it from the very start And I felt it in my heart If there's even one to feel.

- 'Yeah Yeah Yeah (V2)' by Jack Conte.

It's been fifteen years.

Malia can hardly believe that sometimes; that she's lived this long, that she's thirty-fucking-five years old. That missing nine years as a coyote is now only... well, it's no longer half her life. Malia did not ever get great at math, and as soon as school ended, saynoara equations! Point being she doesn't actually know the fraction or, percentage 9 out of 35 is, but it's not nearly as significant as 9 out of 18. Malia doesn't remember it, anymore. Doesn't have that same desperate longing she once did for the simplicity of life as a coyote. 

Malia has grown as a person, is the thing. But not straight upwards. Not in all the right ways. Not even in all the ways she'd be proud of, or happy with, which are different from the 'right' ones. 

Case in point; Jordan Parrish. 

He's a sweetheart, really, is the thing. The thing being that that's the problem. Scott was a sweetheart, too. Didn't change jack shit about how it ended. Didn't stop their train from wrecking. Once is whatever, twice is coincidence, three times is a pattern. Malia doesn't want to find out she's the common thread, here. Malia doesn't want to... 

She doesn't want it to happen again. 

Malia's not really an introspective person. But reality prompts rumination, as Scott might say, either quoting Deaton or expanding his vocabulary, and he's... right, begrudgingly. Christmas is coming up soon. 

Malia turns up the volume. The car's speakers blast Malia's music louder, but it doesn't drown out her thoughts. Fuck.

- I knew it from the very start, and I felt it in my heart, if there's even -

Malia turns down the volume. Fuck. She knew co-opting some of Stiles' taste in music was going to bite her in the ass one of these days. 

... More than most of what's her's being someone else's first already had, anyway. 

He's coming home. Not to play the pronoun game - Stiles is... returning, to Beacon Hills. For Christmas. They haven't warned him about Allison, because both her and Scott agreed not to, and Malia knows that asshole, and she knows he won't take the surprise well, but whatever. Nobody listened to her fifteen years ago because she kept her mouth fucking shut about her memories of Stiles, for Lydia's sake, and she's still reaping what she sowed on that one. And god, just maybe Peter was right; she should've been more selfish. But anything that makes her think along those lines only reminds her of what happened in Mexico, and Malia nips the thought in the bud real quick. 

Peter's never right about anything. He can't be. It wouldn't be good for Malia if he was. 

Malia shoves open the door, dropping out of her car onto the Sheriff's driveway. Noah will be that, she thinks, until he's physically forced into retirement. 

Malia volunteered to help move some stuff around to help accommodate their guests. Stiles, of course, is staying in his own room, which hasn't changed much since he last saw it, other than maybe gathering some dust on the shelves that needs wiping off since the last cleaning session the Sherrif reluctantly forced himself through (which, agreed. Malia hates cleaning. You wipe a shelf and then have to wipe it again, and again, and again, for the rest of forever) at some point last month. 

Their other guest is Theo. Malia does not envy the Sheriff having to suffer his presence. But he's been hanging around Virginia, apparently, for at least a decade. Malia didn't know this, and it rankles she wasn't told. But it makes sense. Stiles is her ex. They never had the chance to be friends. Malia couldn't...

She just couldn't. It hurt. 

It doesn't really hurt anymore. Scott's a fresher wound, one that feels more solid, more real. Malia - it's not just Malia. Everyone's memories of Stiles will forever be slightly warped, just on the edge of wrong. That happens when a person is snatched from reality, a whole fake history is written, and then he's summarily dropped right back on top of it like he never left. Sometimes, the incorrect memory assimilates, and you think something that happened didn't, and something that didn't did. 

Lydia remembered kissing Stiles in high school. She didn't remember the context. She'd thought they might have dated, briefly. Malia hadn't been sure, had her own conflicting account of events that she'd kept to herself, had her memories of dating Stiles in high school as opposition to Lydia's vague idea. Maybe things would've gone differently if she'd been upfront about it, but Malia... is blunt, yes - 

Not quite honest, though. Not quite honest. Malia's Peter's daughter and Stiles socialised her. This should've been an expected outcome. But people are still surprised when she lies... or simply omits the truth. 

But Lydia broke up with Stiles. Two weeks. They lasted two fucking weeks. Malia threw away her whole - just for a fucking fling. Lydia got scared he'd die and ran away, and Malia can completely sympathise with a fear of a car crash for obvious reasons, but the thing is that that wasn't the only solution, and people die. 

Malia hates it. She hates it so much, she wishes she could make a deal with some kind of deity and stop death in it's tracks, but she can't. Nobody can. You can't halt your life because you're afraid it will end. That's calling quits yourself before death even has the chance to come knocking. A kind of living suicide. 

If there's one thing Malia's never going to do, it's halt her life for the sake of someone else. Malia's sacrificed things that make her happy, yes. She's put her continued existence in danger to save another, yes. But if she wants something badly enough, Malia's not going to be scared off by anything. Not even fate itself. 

Malia enters the spare bedroom, or what will be the spare bedroom once she's moved the desk out of here. Sheriff's just going to have to do his paperwork at the station, which is fine - might even stop him from breaking the law and taking boxes of files home he shouldn't be. 

One table downstairs and a mattress on a bedframe later, Malia helps herself to a sandwich. It's just ham. Nothing special. After, she leaves. That's all Malia was needed for - really anyone could've done it, including the sheriff, Malia just wanted to help out. 

Beacon Hills is a strange sight, these days. Deader than ever before, even when all the worst stuff was going down. The town's dwindled in revenue, she thinks. Shops are boarded up. Potholes aren't filled in. Malia wonders why; what changed, exactly, to make Beacon Hills less desirable than when there was a murder happening every week. There's fewer people on Main Street as she parks in the lot that used to sit in front of a video rental store, but Blockbuster failed years ago and this little independent never stood a chance. In it's place sits a nice little café. Malia gets a doughnut, a coffee, and stares at the swirls her stirring stick makes as she waits. 

Jordan shows up, like he said he would. He looks nice - always does, but Malia means he looks Date Nice, which normally gives her fight-or-flight response a little shove, but Malia's resolved to give him a real chance. He's been so patient, understanding. Kind in a different way to Scott, and more honest than Stiles by a mile. He's just as blunt as she is. Malia likes that. 

Jordan sits down across from her. It's... sometimes strange to recognise this man is dead, and has been for years. He doesn't look much older than when she met him, over a decade ago. Jordan ages, but slowly, much like Malia herself. She likes that, too, that she doesn't have to worry about being outpaced. Stiles is human. He's thirty-four. He probably looks it, though she wouldn't know. Malia's avoided recent pictures of his face for about five years. He looked thirty when he hit thirty, and that had spooked her.

Stiles is going to die long before Malia will. That's a fact. It's unavoidable. Weres can live hundreds of years. Humans can barely manage eighty, if they're lucky. Jordan's not human anymore, and already dead besides; Malia doesn't have to worry about sickness, or cancer, or really anything at all taking him out before her. Maybe that's just as cowardly as Lydia leaving Stiles because of her vision just in the opposite direction, but Malia didn't claim a lack of hypocrisy. Malia's never claimed anything about that either way, which would be telling enough on it's own if you'd paid any attention.

Malia bets on people not paying enough attention. 

"How was work today?" Malia asks, feeling trite, but this is how people talk on dates if they're normal, and Malia wants a normal date. She's never had one of those. Even with Scott, it was - loaded. Besides, when she was dating those two, they were teenagers, either not even or just barely out of high school. Malia's never had an adult relationship, only flings with men she liked sex with that she'd ditch as quickly as she could, so this is... new. Novel.

Jordan smiles, pearly-whites on show, pleased she asked. Malia smiles back, tentatively, which just broadens his grin. 

"Great," He said. "Nothing interesting happened at all."

In his line of work, Malia supposed that would be a good day. 

"Great," Malia echoes, and doesn't know how to carry the conversation further. This happens when you learn how to talk to people while your dad's old roommate is trying to commit genocide on his dime. And then your dad proceeds to try and murder all your friends also, for vastly different, being extremely power-hungry, related reasons. 

"How are you feeling about..." Jordan trails off. "You know, Raeken coming back?"

"Weird. Unpleasant," Malia says. "But it's been fifteen years, and Scott's always preaching about the benefit of the doubt. If Stiles is vouching for him, I can't really say shit. Stiles hated him from day one, after all. Theo'd have to do something really drastic to get his vote of confidence."

"That's fair," Jordan says. "But he did shoot you in the gut and sell you out to your mother. You don't have to forgive that."

"I haven't," Malia says. "He should be in jail. That's how we deal with people who do those things, right? But he could break out pretty easily. Maybe it is better he's helping Stiles do... FBI stuff. I don't know."

"Reform," Jordan says. "There's a lot of people with a lot of different ideas of how the judicial system should work. A lot of people who specifically think prisons, as they are, suck ass. Prison labour equals slavery, that sort of thing."

"Oh," Malia says. "I mean, if you can't say no to doing a job, isn't that literally the definition?" 

Jordan shrugs. "I was a soldier," He says, "Not an ethics student. Maybe, maybe not. They call it repentance. Doing a service for society in exchange for not getting the death sentence for killing a whole family."

"Right," Malia says, brow furrowing, then shrugs herself. "Yeah, I... have no idea about any of that. Sheriff said anything about having to host Theo?"

"He's not happy about it," Jordan nods. "But he's going to go along with it, since Melissa absolutely refuses point-blank."

"Fair," Malia says, "Since he killed Scott."

"Is Peter sticking around?" Jordan asks, "For Christmas?"

"No idea," Malia says. "He really enjoys annoying Melissa and Chris though, so probably. Until he gets bored, at least." Malia makes a face. "Honestly, I think he's flirting, which is just disturbing enough as a thought to get stuck in my head. Share in my misery."

Jordan laughs at that, which was Malia's intention, so. Score. She laughs, too.

It's only a few days until Stiles arrives. He left his jeep with Mason years ago, and replaced it with something more practical - and functional. Malia's pretty sure this car isn't half broken, like the Jeep had been, though - Mason, for the record, has taken good care of it. Got the whole engine replaced, new wheels, e-t-c. (Malia's pretty sure that stands for some Latin or something, but she's not Lydia.) 

Stiles and Theo must've carpooled, because Theo drops out the passenger seat a few moments later. Cora, also, exits the back. It's good to see her cousin - Malia greets her first, with a smile and a quick hug. "How was your decade?" Cora asks. 

"Not bad," Malia says. It wasn't bad, after all. Very quiet. 

"Hm," Cora says. She's a pretty reserved person, so Malia doesn't expect any more than that. 

"Yeah," Malia says. "You going to see Eli?"

"If I must," Cora jokes. "See you."

And she's off. If Malia's bluntness is that of a sledgehammer, Cora is a whole battering ram. And given how Derek was over a decade ago, how he learnt not to be with Eli in the picture, it's probably a Hale trait. Much better a thing to inherit than whatever Peter's got going on, that's for sure, even if it's not always a good thing.

"Stiles," Malia greets, then begrudgingly, "Theo."

Theo smiles at her, charming as ever. Seems more genuine these days, though. The chemo signals from his scent are more... easily discernible. And the corners of his eyes crinkle - he's not just slightly squinting to fake it.

"Malia," Theo greets in turn. Stiles has his hands awkwardly shoved in his pockets, which saves her from having to offer a hug. 

"Hey," Stiles says, "Good to see you."

It is, is the thing. His hair's grown. 

"Yeah, well," Malia says, "it's been like fifteen years. Good to know you're still alive," and she means it. Stiles laughs, abrupty. "Yeah," he says, "You too, Mal."

Malia helps them unpack. Cora's staying with Eli, so her stuff remains in the boot. The rest, they split between the guest room and Stiles'. 

"Isn't this the sheriff's office?" Theo says.

"Surprised he was willing to give it up?" Malia asks. "For you, specifically?"

Stiles snorts. Theo rolls his eyes at him, then shrugs at Malia. "Yeah," He says. "Guess helping with the wild hunt taking his son just gave me more good will than I realised."

Malia doesn't know the Sheriff's reasoning any more than Theo does, unfortunately. Stiles probably just asked him, though, and the Sheriff tends to cave when Stiles is the one requesting something. It's the 'only family left alive' thing - gets you every time. Malia and her dad - not Peter - have a similar dynamic, though it's... more strained. He hasn't stopped apologising for Eichen House since he started, but that first apology came later than it should have.

"Maybe," Malia replies, a non-committal acknowledgement, and moves on from fitting the bedsheets to dragging in a set of draws taken out of the attic earlier, when Scott popped over with a grocery delivery. (Scott was specifically chosen because he knew at least vaguely the kinds of food Stiles would buy, when he lived here. Malia hadn't paid much attention to that, because what the Sheriff ate hadn't been her business - and she'd have been much more lenient on his diet than other people. Malia agrees about salads, by the way. People are omnivores, for god's sake. Put some chicken in there at least.) 

Malia moves to Stiles' room when they start unpacking. She checks the highest shelves for dust, and wipes them down. Stiles arrives not long thereafter, with his own suitcase full of clothes for the holiday and some other things besides. Malia helps him pack things away. An old plaid flannel she used to borrow, that one stripped hoodie he never wore with the red line but he still kept, for whatever reason. Half of these clothes might as well have been her own, at one point. A point she barely remembers correctly. 

"Why'd you never wear it?" Malia asks, abruptly. She waves the hoodie at stiles, with it's red line, and he grimaces. "The nogitsune liked it," He said, and shrugged. "I didn't... not wear it on purpose, I'd just... choose something else instead. You liked it - hell, I said you could keep it."

"You know why I didn't," Malia says. "Or, didn't intend to, anyway."

"Why you returned my stuff after the Anuk-Ite? Yeah." Stiles glances away. He finishes his underwear and sock drawer, then stands. "Thanks for the help."

"No problem," Malia says. "You do this sort of thing for friends."

"Yeah," Stiles says. "Yeah, you do."

Malia wonders if anyone's told him about the Nogitsune's return, about Harris, about everything. Maybe they're waiting, like idiots, to hit him with it all at once. 

Malia goes on one more coffee date with Jordan before Christmas. She buys a nice watch for her dad, to replace his broken one, and a shitty cheap plastic toy watch for Peter that costs her less than a dollar. Malia finds Cora a nice jacket, and debates over what would be appropriate for Eli. Theo is halfway down the aisle from her, headed to the cards section. Unfortunately, he stops to chat.

"Great minds think alike," He says, self-aggrandising. Malia presses her lips together, looks back at the stock.

"Not even a chuckle," Theo sighs. "I know there's nothing I can say to make up for what happened," Theo says, cutting to the chase. "you don't have to forgive or forget, that would be stupid. But we can be civil, right? For our friends' sakes, if nothing else?"

"If nothing else," Malia says, begrudgingly. "I'm not getting you a present."

"That's fine," Theo says. "I don't like getting presents for people just for the sake of it, anyway. They should mean something, you know? But people always need money. World we live in, and all. How much d'you want off me?"

"Gimme fifty." Malia says. "And I'll be civil."

"deal," Theo says, and with a vaguely amused quirk of the lips, he holds out his hand to shake. Malia indulges this. 

"Great," Theo says, sounding genuinely relieved. "It's been a long time since Stiles was home - it wouldn't be great if we were fighting the whole time, you know?"

"You say that as if it'd be two sided," Malia replies.

"I'm going to defend myself, you know," Theo says. "I've done a lot of bad in my life. Can't say otherwise. I've been doing as much good as I can since then, though. Can't say otherwise about that, either."

Malia supposes this is true enough, or Stiles would have kicked him to the curb years ago. 

"Yeah, whatever," Malia says. "Go buy your cards."

Theo nods. He goes and buys his cards. Malia returned to browsing, setting aside Eli's present for that moment. Eventually she'd pick it, along with all the rest - Scott, Lydia, Liam, etc - and Christmas arrives shortly thereafter. 

Malia places the star on the top of the tree. Liam claps and Mason cheers. Hikari is helping Melissa and Chris and Stiles in the kitchen. Theo is somewhere, and Lydia is avoiding Stiles in the living room. Jackson and Jordan are setting up the dvd player, as the Stilinskis'  was unexpectedly broken (they had to run out and quickly borrow the McCalls'). Malia has been systematically taking down every single sprig of faux-mistletoe she sees, as stealthily as she can. Extremely terrible idea, that one, even if Allison and Scott think it's cute and funny and festive. It is none of those things. Worst holiday tradition by a country mile. 

"Dinner's ready," Melissa announces, so everyone piles around the table. It's really not made for this many people - too crowded. Malia is stuck between Lydia, who is using her as a shield, and Theo, who has decided to be Stiles' Lydia shield, apparently (entirely, it seems, without Stiles' input). This leaves an extremely awkward seating situation. Malia makes desperate eye contact with Jordan, who grimaces in sympathy and hooks his angle around hers, silent support. 

At least she's not next to Scott and Allison, Malia supposes. Small mercies. 

Malia had not been here for the session of informing Stiles about everything that happened. Derek's funeral has been scheduled for during his stay here. This is not the most festive of Christmases, but they're... trying. Eli and Cora are sat next to each other, quietly talking. 

Malia... knew her cousins. She started knowing Cora better in the past fifteen years, but Derek was many years her senior. They weren't peers; it was difficult, in some ways, to understand each other. Meeting as they did was also Not Great for their future getting along potential. Derek left as soon as she started figuring him out, and stayed gone for a long time. Malia had known Braeden better than Derek, to the point Malia was the one person (other than Cora, who had witnessed the whole event) that heard about their breakup from her as well as him. She's in Europe somewhere, now.

Sometimes, Malia thinks, this feels like the worst timeline. Like the sci-fi stuff Stiles espouses the virtues of, the one Lydia liked - Babylon 5. Like this was all always going to happen, and never should have. 

Malia finishes her roast dinner. Has a slice of pie. The mood is half-light, half-heavy, a kind of desperate joviality over genuine sadness. Scott and Allison couldn't be happier together, except for the fact they absolutely could, and neither of them appreciate what this has cost. 

Stiles, also, is deeply moody right now - brooding. It's not nice to hear the nogitsune's back, for him, and doubly so Malia thinks that nobody warned him. Nobody called. Scott chose not to call. It's one thing to forget in the heat of a crisis, and another to make an active choice to exclude him from something that's extremely, personally relevant. Malia hadn't called, either. Nobody had, so he's a little mad at all of them. It's... fair. Even if their choice is understandable, given how much trauma surrounds the nogitsune for Stiles and for the rest of them, but... blindsiding Stiles with so much at once and the fact they did all of it without him is going to drive home the truth that one thing Stiles never wanted, back in senior year, ended up happening anyway. Not because they chose to leave. Because he did. Over and over again. 

Malia never called. Neither did Stiles. It takes two people to ruin a friendship, most of the time. 

Malia picks at a slice of cake. Jordan nudges her ankle. Tilts his head, raises a brow. Smells - concerned, questioning. Malia nods, shortly. After he finishes, Jordan stands, stretches. "I'm wiped," He announces. "Anyone need a ride home?"

"I walked here," Malia says, standing, ignoring Lydia's widening eyes as they dart over to Stiles. She's a grown woman. Malia's not covering for her this time. "I'll take you up on that offer."

They escape the reunion into the cool midwinter night. Malia takes a breath, icy sharpness a shock to her lungs after the stuffiness of an over-filled house. 

"You doing okay?" Jordan asks, able to speak freely as they drive away, the quietness of his question and the loudness of the engine hiding his voice from the weres inside. 

"That was awkward," Malia lets out. "Oh god."

They laugh, a little, not out of humour. He pulls up on the side of the road a moment, turns on the overhead light. "Do you wanna go home?" He asks her. Malia thinks of her room in her old house, in the middle of the woods, about being alone in the dark all over again, because of Scott, because of Stiles, because of everyone else, because of herself, and decides against it.

"Let's go to yours," Malia says, instead, and Jordan smiles in understanding. He switches off the light, and drives. 

Boxing day brings cleaning day. The funeral's in a week. 

Malia helps take down the tree. Scott and Stiles are doing the same. Allison is putting away the box of tinsel and decor in the attic. 

"Left-" Malia grunts, turning the tree left. They eventually manage to get it outside, into the garden. Malia leaves the two to the rest of it, and goes back inside. Gets a drink.

Allison is doing the same, it seems. She smiles a little awkwardly in greeting. "Hi," She says. "Done with the tree?" 

"Almost," Malia says. "They've got it now though. Needed a drink," Malia gestures with her soda. "Are all the boxes in the attic?"

"Almost," Allison echoes, "Just a couple more."

Malia helps her finish up. They gather in the living room. Stiles rocks on his heels slightly, hands shoved in pockets. Scott drinks in the sight of Allison like a man who's lived in an oasis-less desert his whole life just got dropped on a random Caribbean island. Allison slips under his arm, smiles sweetly, all dimples.  

"We're good then? All done?" Stiles asks. "Because that was easy."

"All good," Scott says, smiling. Stiles is his best friend - it's been entirely too long since they last saw each other, Malia thinks. Speaking on the phone occasionally is different from meeting up in person. 

"Great," Stiles says. "Well, thanks for the help."

"You're welcome," Allison says. Stiles keeps looking a little surprised every time she speaks. Allison also just looks different - death and a decade will do that to a person, Malia supposes, but there's a kind of uncanniness about it all, because they missed the versions of her that would have sat between 17 and 35. It's probably jarring - for her to sound the same, but to appear so different. Plus, Stiles' own last memories of Allison are warped; he remembers everything the nogitsune did, as if he did it himself. That's bound to give a guy a complex or three, and it definitely did, but on top of that it just... makes the timeline strange. Simultaneous events are hard to place, mentally. Malia would know; the wild hunt proved it. That kind of taught them all how hard it was to reconcile two different versions of events. 

Malia's just saying that - it makes sense. Every time Allison speaks, Stiles' chemo signals spike guilty. They shouldn't, as it wasn't his fault, but Malia knows Stiles. She understands why they do. 

Scott picks up on it, obviously. His expressions are always too easy to read, though; Stiles can see right through him. And he doesn't like it when they do that, use their senses 'against him' - or, rather, put him on an uneven playing field. They can read him... he can't read them. It rankled Stiles 15 years ago just as much as it does now. Malia would know, again. This time, the reason is that... it's - part of why they broke up. Amongst other things, like miscommunication. 

Malia watches the conversation unfold, silently, for a few sentences. 

"So when are you going back?" Scott asks, casually. Stiles raises a hand to do the uncertainty motion, a little horizontal wobble. "Eh," He says. "Was planning for the 10th, but... plans can change."

"They don't need to," Scott says, "You-"

"I appreciate your concern for my mental health, Scotty, I really do," Stiles says, dismissively, "but I should be involved in this. It's the nogitsune, Scott. If we can't have Kira here-"

"We can't," Scott says, grimacing, "Her stay with the skinwalkers could last - hundreds of years-"

"Exactly," Stiles says. "If we can't have kira, and since Derek is dead - Scott, I'm the only backup you've got."

These days, very true. Unfortunately. 

"What about Isaac?"

"He has actual self-preservation instincts, unlike the rest of us." Stiles sends an apologetic glance to Allison. "He'd say no. And probably move to another country, again, even further away than last time."

Allison's lips twist in displeasure. "So much has changed," She murmurs. Malia pats her shoulder sympathetically. Missing a decade sucks. For the third time; Malia would know. This one should not need explaining.

"Yeah," Stiles sighs, sounding exhausted. "Yeah, it has."

Malia sits on the back stairs. Stiles joins her for a smoke.

"I can heal this shit," Malia says. "What's your excuse?"

"I'm an FBI agent," He says. "Part of my cover on an assignment, once. Stuck around, after. Know a witch or two with decent medical skills - I'll be fine."

Malia nods. They watch little clouds form in the air, smoke swirling around in shapeless, meaningless patterns. 

"I'm sorry, you know," Stiles says. "For - fuck, everything. I never said that. Should've. Didn't. Too late now. But... still."

"Too late now," Malia echoes, and sighs. "For both of us. I'm sorry too. I should have said something. You were spiralling, I could tell, and I did jack shit about it."

"You weren't doing so hot yourself," Stiles says. "Neither of us was in a good place."

"We were in a very bad place," Malia says, dryly. "Called 'Beacon Hills'."

Stiles snorts. "Yeah," He says. "You should - you should visit, some time. Virginia is nice."

"I might," Malia says. "Might not. You should visit more often."

"I might," Stiles echoes wryly, "Might not."

Malia ashes her cigarette, crushes it underfoot into the neglected lawn. "For the record," Malia says, "I loved you for a very long time. I liked Scott, but never truly loved him, and it got... messy. I think he knew that. I didn't want to admit it." Malia looks up at the sky. "I'm seeing Jordan," She says. Stiles makes a noise of surprise. 

"Oh?" He tilts his head. "How's that going?"

"Okay," Malia says. "He's great. I struggle with intimacy. Thanks for that."

Stiles winces. Malia shakes her head. "It's not entirely your fault," Malia says. "I never told you much of anything."

"You told me a lot," Stiles rebuffs. "I lied to you all the time."

"Not about the nogitsune, you didn't," Malia says. Stiles frowns, a little confused. 

"You told me about the crash," He says, gently. "That was - really brave of you, you know. To be vulnerable like that. You're an honest person, Malia. Extenuating circumstances force people to do things they otherwise wouldn't."

"I know that," Malia says. "I just..."

Malia lights a second cigarette, watches the smoke curl in the air. 

"I just wanted to say it," Malia says, finally. "We never did. Explicitly, I mean. 'I loved you'. Present or past tense, we never said it, and that was fine, except it means we missed it. Late to the station, you know?"

"It's probably pretty callous to say this, but... you're better off, you know. We both are. We... get each other, sure. And you - you are beautiful, really. But -"

"Communication," Malia says, "Is something we both suck at."

"Yeah," Stiles says. "And you deserve - just, so much. More than I was willing to give, then. Which means I didn't deserve what you were willing to give me."

"It's not about deserve," Malia says. "It's about what you can make work. You choose to love someone, every day you love them. A relationship requires mutual effort."

"We differ there," Stiles says. "I never found love to be an active thing. It hung around when I didn't want it and it left when I really would have appreciated it staying." Stiles finishes his cigarette.

"Romantic compatibility," Stiles continues, "Is... complicated. Which is why Lyds and I lasted two whole weeks," Stiles says, wryly, "Before she dumped me and fled the state, and now won't look me in the eye over Christmas dinner."

Malia taps her lighter. "Why'd you break up?" Malia asks.

"Lydia didn't say?" Stiles replies with a question of his own. Classic.

"Of course she did, she's my best friend," Malia says, "Since Kira's otherwise occupied." Stiles snorts. "I want to hear your side."

"I don't know," Stiles says, truthfully. "We had a fight, she broke up with me and left. I never got a real explanation. It... kind of sucked, honestly."

"Yeah," Malia muttered. "No kidding."

Stiles grimaces. "Yeah," He says. "Taste of my own medicine, there."

"We didn't fight," Malia says. "We disagreed, fundamentally, about the ethics of killing someone in self-defence."

"We didn't, really," Stiles says. "I was just - caught up in my head about it. I guess we didn't fight," Stiles allows, "But I didn't explain jack shit with any real clarity, and I broke up with you by implication, which wasn't right."

"It wasn't," Malia agrees. "But you are right that we're... better off, now. Maybe-" Malia presses her lips together. "I wasn't really honest with anyone, during the wild hunt," She admits, finally, for the first time. "I lied. Directly. To everyone except Peter, who remembered everything anyway so I couldn't have lied to him."

Stiles' brow furrows. "What did you lie about?" He asks.

"You," Malia says. "Non-stop. Lydia remembered kissing you in high school and asked me about it. I said that was before I showed up, so she should ask Scott. She did. He confirmed it. For a bit she assumed you'd dated, back then. I knew you hadn't. I knew I was your first girlfriend. I knew that, factually. I didn't say anything. When Scott reassured Lydia that he'd known you and her were meant to be or whatever, I backed him up. I confirmed what he said. I said I saw it too, and I never once brought up that we dated. To anyone. Because I chose to put Lydia first, I chose to set aside our failed relationship, and I chose to support what it looked like everyone wanted, and it lasted two non-consecutive weeks."

Stiles winced. 

Malia sighed. "I loved you," Malia said. "Once, a long time ago, for longer than we were dating, for less time collectively than it felt like. You helped teach me how the world worked. I'll be grateful for that for the rest of my life. You're a good friend, Stiles. I don't think we were ever solely friends - without sex, without romance... and I'm ready to be, if you want to try."

"I'd like that," Stiles says. 

Malia smiles. 

The funeral.... happens. It's kind of a tear-filled blur, and Malia won't relive the pain by recounting it. 

When the 10th arrives, so does the day of Stiles (and Theo's) departure. Cora is sticking with Eli for a while. Malia's got a date with Jordan on Sunday. Watch a movie. Eat a pizza. Have sex. A normal evening, all told. 

Malia sees off Stiles (and Theo). She does so last, after everyone else, and once Theo's situated in the passenger seat. 

"Hey," Malia says, "... call, okay? Skype or soemthing."

Stiles smiles. He offers a tentative hug, which she takes. It's a little strange, to give him the same kind of hug she'd give Lydia or Liam, but it's... nice. Malia's getting used to a lot of different things lately. This one should be the easiest. 

"Obviously," Stiles says, "You too."

Communication, Malia reminds herself, got Scott and Stiles too, at one point. Friendship requires just as much effort as any other dynamic. 

"Duh," Malia says. "Hey," Malia says. "You be careful, alright?"

"I try," Stiles says. "You too."

He gets in his new car, which is coloured a deep navy. Some things change, but Stiles will always think blue's pretty. There's a kind of comfort in that, Malia thinks; red is unsolved, yellow is working on it, green is solved, and blue's always pretty. Simple, uncomplicated, fact. 

Malia watches them go, and feels differently about it than she would have a month ago. Metaphorically, her shoulders are straighter, her back less bowed - no weight pushing her down. They all have a lot of baggage, Malia no different... but this, her and Stiles and all they could have been, is one stone-filled sack she can put down. It's a good feeling. 

Malia calls Jordan. 

"Hey," He says, sounding surprised. Communication is a two way street, Malia repeats. A two-way street. 

"Do you wanna go for dinner tonight?" Malia says. "That shop on Main, the one on the corner that's been boarded up for like, two years, got bought recently. Watched them put up the sign, some kind of Italian deal."

"That sounds great," Jordan says, and he sounds genuinely happy. Malia does not feel guilty - that would be unhelpful. This is simply an opportunity to step forward, this time, instead of waiting for Jordan to meet her where she's stood. It's a development, it's growth, it's good. Malia likes Jordan.

Malia would like to see where this goes, if she'll finally let it start moving forward. 

[quantus-tremor]

56 for Spotify wrapped thingie

((so the prompt was for a starter but I wrote a drabble type thing instead. we twist the rules in this house. basically just a stream of consciousness as armand contemplates sybelle reading tva for the first time.))

song 56:

[devil like me - rainbow kitten surprise]

is the devil so bad if he cries in his sleep, while the earth turns? and his kids learn to say "fuck you," they don't love you

The last of the night air hung heavy with the thick scent of oak as Armand reclined in his coffin, the lid ajar. The velvety darkness embraced him like a lover, but the relentless parasite anxiety festered within his immortal heart. His slender fingers danced nervously across the velveteen lining of his coffin, his mind consumed by the haunting prospect of Sybelle learning the intricacies of his existence. David had completed the chronicle, the elaborate account of Armand’s centuries-long journey through the shadowed corridors of eternity.

The coffin creaked as he shifted uncomfortably, the aged wood groaning in response. The passage of time, a relentless adversary, weighed heavily on his shoulders. Immortality had gifted him with a wealth of experiences, but it also burdened him with the knowledge that relationships in his eternal existence were as fleeting as the ephemeral mortals. He had to let her read it anyway, for her sake. What right did he have to expect her to stay? What right, after all he’d done? He, the devil himself with the face of a cherub, but Sybelle an angel through and through. 

He had recounted it for her. Her and Benji. His beloved children. He had nothing to hide from her, nothing that he wanted to hide. Still, his unspoken fears twisted like tendrils of smoke to choke him. Would the revelation of his past, with all its sins and sorrows, finally alienate his beloved? Would she recoil from the weight of it — from the darkness that clung to him, relentless and opaque? 

But there was a guilty part of him that told him the error in those thoughts. He could doubt himself, but he could not doubt her like this. She had already known pain, terror and sorrow. She saw the soul of Armand already and she had never once flinched from him, monster though he had been and could still be. They were so alike, she and he, and if Armand could find anything at all in himself that was akin to any part in her, then he could not be such a devil.