#i talked to the landlord hes gonna be giving me back my deposit in the end

[kpop-cakepops]

Hello, Meant To Be Anon here! I see your requests are open. A pretty big situation going on with my job that's going to leave a lot of people upset and I just am going to need all of the positive vibes I can get. Could I request something fluffy with Wonwoo? Maybe a Snuggle Donation where he cheers up the reader after a bad day? No rush or anything, whenever you have time to get around to it. Thanks!

Hi Anon. I'm really sorry to hear about your job. Know that everything will be okay! You've got this! Here is your request, hope Wonwoo can cheer you up 😉❤ Enjoy and have a good week!!! (I didn't properly proofread this, so please excuse any mistakes!!)

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,808

Snuggle Donation: Move In// JeonWonwooxFem!Reader

"Just go home, I'll have Mingyu run the launch."

Y/N watched as her boss walked out of her office with a disappointed frown on his face. After making 5 consecutive mistakes, she was finally being sent home.

It had all started that morning when her landlord came to her door to inform her that he'd be selling the building that Y/N and many other tenants called home. It had sent her mind in a downward spiral all day. She had only 2 weeks to look for a new home and on top of that she had a big campaign launch to run at work that she did not have the mind for... hence why she was being sent home.

"Are you okay?" asked her colleague and friend Mingyu as he entered her office to pick up the plan for the new launch.

"I'm great. Just dandy" she grumbled as she grabbed her purse and keys from her desk. "Are you done? I need to get home" Y/N hadn't meant to sound rude, but if she wasn't out of the office in the next 2 minutes, she was sure she'd break down.

Mingyu gave her a soft understanding smile and ruffled her hair before stepping out of her office and walking over to their break room. The tall man slipped his phone out and dialed the only number he knew would be of help for Y/N.

"What?"

"Yes, hello to you too. Did you and Y/N fight?" he asked.

Wonwoo, who had been playing games instantly stopped what he was doing and grabbed his phone taking it off speaker and putting it to his ear. "No, why? Did she say she was mad at me?"

"No. She's just been off today. Seungcheol kicked her off the campaign launch today. She looked about ready to cry." Mingyu shared as he stirred himself a cup of coffee.

"Something must've happened... don't worry about it. I'll give her a call." With that Wonwoo hung up the phone and dialed his best friend's number, however, after one ring he was instantly directed to voicemail. He had known she wouldn't answer his call, Y/N usually liked her space, but his calls always served as a little reminder that he'd be waiting for her and she could go to him as soon as she was ready to talk.

Back at her small apartment, Y/N wasn't ready yet. Her belongings were glaring at her from the places they'd held for years as she sat on her bed. A million and one thoughts were running through her mind. She had nowhere to go, she had finally saved enough to put in a deposit for the business she was planning to start, and now she had 2 weeks to figure what was going to happen with her life. The problem was starting to weigh down on her little by little.

It was after half an hour that the weight of her issues was too much to bear alone. Her hand reached out for her phone and she dialed her best friend's number.

"Hey you"

"Can you come over?" Y/N asked with an arm draped over her eyes, it seemed like that was the only thing holding her tears in.

"I'm outside... I'll be up in a second, yeah?"

"Yeah" she answered forcing herself to stand from her bed and change into comfortable clothes. Comfortable clothes being the ratty old sweatshirt Wonwoo had left behind 2 years prior and a pair of sweatpants she'd used to paint her bathroom when she'd just moved in. By the time she was done changing, she could hear Wonwoo punching the code into her front door. The sound of plastic bags reaching her in her room.

"Y/N?" he called out.

The young woman stepped out of her room with a sigh, her feet stopping right outside the bedroom door. Wonwoo was watching her closely and carefully from his spot and in a matter of seconds opened his arms up for her. Y/n's feet rushed her up to her tall friend and she buried her face into his chest. The weight that had been weighing down on her seemed to lift and the tears she'd been holding back were now being soaked up by her friend's black t-shirt.

"Do I have to kick someone's ass? I don't know where Seungcheol lives, but I can find out." he joked trying to lighten up the mood.

Y/n sniffled lightly. "I'm so tired" she mumbled, her voice muffled by his chest. "How long is this going to go on?"

Wonwoo's arms wrapped around her tightly. "Tired? Last I heard you got to leave work early today" he said jokingly, his words testing the waters to see if she'd tell him what was bothering her so much.

The girl pulled away from Wonwoo enough to see his face and gave him an unamused look. "Can you not? I'm literally about to be homeless"

Wonwoo was rendered silent. He didn't know you'd been going through money problems. "What? Why didn't you tell me? I would have lent you money"

With yet another sigh, Y/N walked over to the bags he'd brought over knowing they'd be full of her favorite snacks. Wonwoo never failed her. "It's not that. My landlord is selling the building and gave us a 2-week ultimatum to move out." She told him. "Not only that but I don't have enough money to put down a deposit for a new apartment on such short notice... I think I'm going to have to pull the deposit on the photography studio... I just-"

Wonwoo felt a slight sense of panic as soon as he saw Y/N starting to get emotional again. If there was one thing to know about Y/N it was that she was smart, creative, and hard-working... but she was also a perfectionist, a very emotional one at that.

"I'll lend you the money, you don't have to worry" he assured her, but he already knew what her answer would be.

"Are you crazy? You know how hard it is to find a decent apartment in the city. Deposits are so expensive one would think you're buying the apartment"

She wasn't wrong, things were ridiculously expensive in the city, but knowing how important her new business was, he didn't want Y/N to have to give it up yet again. "Then move in with me" he blurted.

Y/N dropped the bag of chips in her hands as soon she heard his suggestion. "What?"

Wonwoo was embarrassed. In any other case, two best friends wouldn't be embarrassed to live together, but they weren't any other case. Wonwoo liked his best friend, he like liked her. "M-move in with me. I mean, you need a place to live, places in the city are expensive, Dokyeom is also moving out"

well now he is

"Plus, the last thing I want is for you to have to postpone the opening of your photography studio. You've worked too hard, and as your best friend, I will not allow it."

Y/N felt a large wave of emotions crashing into her. With a slow shake of her head, she picked up the bag of chips she'd dropped. "I don't know Woo... would that really be okay?"

"Of course it'd be okay! You're my best friend. Best friends can live together... I'm not that bad of a roommate" he grinned.

Y/N chuckled and grabbed more snacks before making her way over to her small living room and plopping down on her couch. "You realize how big of a change that will be, right? You'd be living with a girl."

Wonwoo nodded hurriedly, "I'm not a kid, of course I get it"

"Well then... I guess it wouldn't be a bad idea, at least until I find somewhere else to live."

Wonwoo followed her and dropped on the empty spot beside her. His weight shifting over onto her. "Or you could just be my roommate until the end of my lease" he offered.

"God, you're heavy" she groaned as she pushed him off her only to have him lay his head on her lap. "That would be a horrible idea"

Wonwoo smiled up at his friend, his brows wiggling playfully, "what are you saying?! of course it wouldn't. You get to have the handsomest roommate in the world. Why would that be a bad idea?"

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N stuffed Wonwoo's mouth with chips and shook her head, "wow, suddenly I want to stay homeless" she joked, a small smile coming to her face.

"Hey, you smiled though. That's good right?" He thoughtlessly munched on his chips and grabbed Y/N's hand, placing it on his head.

"Only because I have the most handsome best friend and soon-to-be temporary roommate" she replied, her free hand combing through his hair.

Wonwoo smiled, the fact that she was willing to allow him to help her with such a big issue made him feel like maybe a part of her also needed him as much as he did her. "So I'm assuming that's a yes to coming home with me?"

"If you're willing to make a little space for me, then I'll gladly move in with you."

"Okay. We can pack up a bag and you can come with me tonight. I'll ask for the day off tomorrow and I'll come to help you pack up and start the move!" Wonwoo said excitedly causing the girl's tummy to do a little flip at how excited he sounded.

"Calm down, we have two weeks to get everything done. Plus, we still have to run it by your landlord." Y/N told him.

"My landlord will be fine with it. He already thinks you live with me since you always come over." He assured, his eyes glimmered as he stood up.

Y/N laughed and grabbed his hand tugging him back to sit beside her. "Hey, you came to make me feel better you gotta feed me and finish the movie with me"

"Oh! Right! After the movie we can pack though, right?" he asked.

"Of course! We can also call the most handsome best friend and soon-to-be temporary roommate to come and help us pack" the girl said popping a chip into her mouth. Wonwoo looked over at her in confusion. "What? Did you think I was gonna let you kick out Dokyeom? Nice try idiot."

Wonwoo groaned and let his body drop over her lap again, "You won't let a single thing slip by, will you?"

With yet another eye-roll she stuffed his mouth with the chips in her hands. "Hush, we're gonna finish the scary movie we didn't finish last time."

"Goddamn it, Y/N. Not again."

[castielific]

Title: Fancy and the tramp

Story status: Complete, 8 chapters

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Dean/Castiel, Alternate Universe, Fake boyfriends, pretend relationship, homeless!Dean, rich!Cas, family, angst with a happy ending, temporary breakup, getting back together, coming out, past!homophobia, self esteem issues, Dean Winchester has a sexuality crisis, first time, homelessness, bed sharing, pining

Sex tags: anal sex, switching, bottom!Cas, bottom!Dean, first time, frottage, marking, blowjob, fingering, barebacking

Special warning: Contrary to what the title may presage, there are no spaghettis in this story. 

Summary: 

"Okay, let's be clear on one thing from the start. This is not a lifetime movie and I'm straight, so no falling in love, get it?"

"I get it, Dean," Castiel nods.

Well, that's it then, apparently Dean is going to a fancy engagement party with his new fake boyfriend. What a weird day. 

Link to AO3

Chapter 1 under the cut:

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

"Come on Ricky, you owe me that money!" Dean says on his phone, taking a step forward when the line of the coffee shop shortens. 

"I don't owe you shit, Dean. You still owe me the last three months of your rent," his ex landlord says on the phone.

"And I'll pay you, you know I will. But to get the money, I need a job, and to get that job I need some new clothes and-"

"Yeah yeah, I know the deal. You think no one has told me that one before? No bueno, man, I'm keeping your deposit," Ricky grumbles. 

Dean groans in frustration. "Come on, all I need is fifty dollars so I can buy a pair of pants without any holes in it. You give me fifty, I get the job and I pay you back, how does that sound?" he tries to negotiate. 

"Like a fucking lie," Ricky spits just before hanging up.

"No Ric-fuck!" 

The woman in front of him in line sends him a dark look. Dean rolls his eyes at her. Like she hasn't heard worse before. 

Ricky was his last shot. It was a long one, he really does owe that bastard some serious money. Guess he can kiss the job interview at two goodbye. It's some kind of assistant job. It sounds easy enough, buying coffee and picking dry cleaning and stuff. It was still a long shot anyway. Dean's only real job experience is being a bagger boy when he was seventeen and it lasted about two months before his dad decided to move them further east. 

So far, he'd always managed to get by doing repairs or cleaning at gas stops and motels. The older he gets and the harder it gets to find that kind of random job. People are more willing to give a few bucks in exchange for manual tasks to a kid than they are to a nearly thirty years old guy. Now they just tell him to fuck off. 

And since it's always been casual and off the book, the only official work experience he has is the bagger thing. He doesn't even have a high school diploma because he dropped out long before that. Not exactly a stellar resume. Which explains why he hasn't found work in eight month and is currently living in his car. Thank God he has Baby. 

He had been too ambitious thinking he could get his own place. It could only pay rent for about five months before he went broke. He's never had a home before, and had no idea that having an apartment cost so much. In motels, you don't exactly have to pay for water or heat or utilities. There was a bunch of stuff he hadn't planned for that ate up the last of his meagre savings. Ricky threw him out after three months when Dean couldn't scrape up enough money to pay rent anymore, putting a violent stop to Dean's pipe dream of living a normal life. He hoped it would be simpler to get a job if he had an actual address, had even thought about scrapping up enough to maybe get his GED. He's not sure what he's going to do now. 

He's always wanted to be a mechanic. If his dad ever taught him anything, it was how to take care of the Impala. John taught him all the basics and Dean got the knack of it. As a teen, he spent days reading car magazines and working on the Impala, trying to learn as much as he could about how cars worked and how to repair the different parts. He knows enough by now that he could easily work in a garage, but he's got no diploma, and hasn't found anyone willing to hire him on faith alone. 

The line of the coffee shop shortens again, the barista asking her order to the goody-two-shoes in front of him. Dean looks regretfully at the display of sandwiches. He searches his pockets and only comes up with three dollars. Of course, the cheapest piece of food cost four dollars. Dean sighs. Guess just a coffee will have to do today. 

He won't have another choice but to go to the soup kitchen tonight. He hates it there. The food is crap and he wants to punch the prancy people serving it. They always try to give him some Jesus bullshit with his food, like Jesus is ever gonna put a roof over his head and find him a decent job. Neither Jesus nor God nor whatever gives a crap about him. Not that he blames them. Hell, if they exist they're probably not big fans of the guy that used to slip into church as a kid to pick the lock of the donation box

"Just an americano, please," Dean says regretfully when the barista asks for his order. At least it will keep him warm and fill his stomach for a short while.

Halloween just went by and the weather is becoming really cold. He should use the last of Baby's tank to go as far south as he can before winter really hits. He probably won't get farther than Wichita though, and the thought makes him shiver. No one wants to get stuck for a winter in Wichita. Maybe he could go and see if he can make a few bucks at the nearest motel, that kind of place always needs a handyman's help. He hasn't tried the one on Corn Street yet. He's noticed only two lights are still working on their sign, he could offer to help with that. If he makes fifty bucks, he might be able to reach Austin. 

Dean stops on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop, pondering if he should walk to the bar a few streets down or the motel. Sometimes Benny, the owner of the bar, lets him use the sink in the back to wash up. If he's lucky, he'll even get some leftovers from last night. It's generally just some stale pretzels, cold fries on good days, but it's still better than nothing. He's got two cans of beans and a car with an near empty tank to his name right now, so he's not picky. 

Dean takes a look at his watch. It's eleven thirty already, the leftovers are probably already in the trash at Benny's. The motel is probably his best bet. 

"I'll give you a hundred dollars if you pretend to be my boyfriend." comes a hoarse voice, way too close to his ear. 

Dean jumps, nearly spilling his coffee on himself. He spins to the right to face the man who just talked and is met with a pair of clear blue eyes. Way too close again. He waits a second for the man to take a step back as he realises as close Dean turning brought them, but the guy just continues to stare at him, head slightly tilted to the side. He's wearing an oversized trench coat over a dark blue suit that looks expensive. He's so close a gust of wind makes the bottom of his coat brushes Dean's shin. 

"Dude, personal space," Dean reproaches, taking a step back. "And fuck off, I don't swing that way," he adds, not meanly. It's not the first time he's getting hit on by a dude. Sadly, not even the weirdest. He's strictly into chicks though, so no dice.

"Two hundred bucks," the man insists. He looks ready to fall on his knees and beg, eyes going wider and wider as he throws a panicked look to the right of Dean's shoulder. "It won't take more than ten minutes and all you have to do is nod along," he begs, making Dean wonders if he's in danger somehow. Maybe he has a stalker or an abusive ex? 

Dean follows his eyes to a woman coming closer. She's very elegant in a grey pantsuit and a long white fur coat as she walks straight toward them. He can feel her eyes judging him even from thirty feet away, looking at him from head to toes. If he wasn't already self-aware of the number of holes in his jeans, he would definitely be under that gaze. 

"Five hundred dollars," the other man whispers just as the blond woman reaches them. 

"Castiel, dear, you should have told me we would have company, I would have notified the restaurant," the woman says, sending a clearly disapproving look toward Dean as she deposits a kiss on the other man's - (Castiel, apparently, what kind of name is that??) - cheek. 

"Mother, let me introduce you to my boyfriend," Castiel says, looking ill at ease. He's obviously not a very good liar. 

Dean blinks a few times as their attention turns toward him. Castiel seems to be trying to communicate something with his eyes, and Dean frowns in incomprehension for a moment before he gets the hint. 

"Huh. Dean. Winchester," he finally says. "Ma'am," he adds when she just continues to stare at him like he has grease smeared all over his face. He's pretty sure that she wouldn't want to touch his hand if he were to offer it to shake, so he doesn't. 

"Naomi Novak," she introduces herself. "What a delight to finally meet Castiel's new companion," Naomi says, her deadpan tone contradicting her words. "Of course, I would have preferred not to be ambushed by such an announcement. Castiel, you know, that Le Délice hates it when we change our reservation last minute. Who knows if they will even have a table for three," she declares, already composing a number on her phone. 

"It's okay, mother, Dean won't be joining us for lunch."

"Oh, is it because your attire isn't appropriate?" Castiel's mother asks, looking at the holes in Dean's jeans and the big leather jacket that used to be his dad's. "I assure you they won't say a word about it if you're with us," she reassures. 

Dean squirms a little, wondering what the hell is even happening. Ten minutes ago he was buying a coffee and going at his day like a perfectly normal person (well, albeit a homeless and jobless one). Now, his fashion sense is being criticized by the mother of a man who is pretending to be his boyfriend. Did a piano fall on his head or something? Has he finally lost his mind?

He looks to the man beside him. He's scratching the side of his neck in nervousness. The move makes his coat fall a little over his wrist, revealing a freaking Rolex watch. Dean looks back to the woman, eyes sliding on her diamond earrings and the huge rock around her neck. 

You know what? That's not okay. His stomach has been crying for food since last morning, and he's what? Supposed to help this stranger by saying no to free lunch at one of the most prestigious restaurants in town? Fuck no. He's gonna eat like a king and make a few hundred bucks off the back of those rich assholes. 

"In that case, it would be my pleasure to join you," Dean announces with his most charming smile. 

"What?" Castiel can't help but bark. "But y-your work thing?" he tries, sweating. The round panic eyes are back. Dean sends him his best shit eating grin. They both know he now either has to invite this stranger to lunch or reveal the lie to his mother. The guy is trapped and may as well continue to play along.

"It's not as important as a chance to finally get to know your mother, honey," Dean answers. "He's told me so many nice things about you, Naomi. Can I call you Naomi?"

"Of course, dear," Naomi says. She looks a little wide eyed too, probably thrown by Dean turning on the charm to the max.

"Perfect! We shall go now, we don't want to miss your reservation. I do hope it won't be too much of a bother for them to add a chair to your table," Dean says. He should probably tone it down with the pompous tone, because he nearly added an English accent here. 

Naomi leads the way, and Dean is going to follow when a hand grabbing his arm makes him fall a few steps behind. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Castiel hisses.

"Acting as your boyfriend?" Dean says innocently. By Castiel's glare, he's not fooled. 

"I asked you to nod silently for ten minutes, not to do method acting for a whole meal," he reproaches. Naomi sends a look behind her shoulder and Castiel smiles at her like there is no worries, indicating for her to lead the way, 

Dean shrugs. "I had some free time."

"I'm not giving you more money than planned, if that's your goal," Castiel says with a suspicious squint. 

"I'm fine with the five hundred as long as you're also paying for lunch," Dean says, wiggling his eyebrows as they walk toward the restaurant. Something passes on Castiel's face that Dean can't quite identify. The other man stares at him for so long that it's a wonder he doesn't trip. He finally relents with a long suffering sigh as they enter 'Le Délice'. 

Apparently, Naomi Novak is prominent enough that they don't mind changing her reservation after all. They're seated at a table near a legit indoor fountain. Dean is looking around, trying not to let show how impressed he is by the place. The walls are made of stone and covered in frescos that he always thought you couldn't see outside of a church or castle. A waiter gives him a leather covered menu and Dean opens it eagerly. After a few niceties to Naomi, they're asked what they want to drink. Dean has an inkling that he probably shouldn't ask for a beer in an establishment like this. 

"Same for me, please," he says after Castiel ordered some wine with a name Dean can't pronounce. At least, he hopes that's wine. Who knows. Hell, in this place the bottles of water are probably more expensive than his usual brand of beer. 

Dean starts to second guess his decision when he realizes that the menu is in french. What is it with rich people and France? He just wants a damn steak, how do you say that in french? Is there even steaks here or is it just frog legs and snails? Oh god, he hopes not. 

"I think I'll take the duck today," Naomi notes. "Nobody cooks it better than chef Francis. How about you Dean? Have you ever come here before?" There is a mean glint in her eyes that says she knows perfectly well he hasn't. Hell, from the side eyes he got from everyone as they crossed the room, everyone here knows he's not from their world. There are three holes in his jeans, threads hanging from the bottom and his dad's leather jacket probably should have ended up in the trash about three years ago. Even now, it's still too big for him and the sleeves are so scruffed that they're nearly paper thin. The original dark brown color has turned to a light beige in most places from wear. His scruff is just the bad side of too long now, and he hasn't had a haircut since April, strands starting to fall into his eyes. At least, he's wearing his best plaid shirt and managed to wash up last night, so he's not smelling too rank. Why would Castiel pick him out of all the people in the street at that moment to play his boyfriend? It makes no sense at all. From the guy's obvious discomfort as he hides behind his menu, he probably realizes it. 

"Actually, Naomi, duck sounds like a delicious idea," Dean says, voluntarily ignoring her question. To be honest, he’s never even eaten duck before, but it's poultry so it probably taste like chicken. You can't go wrong with chicken, right? His stomach certainly likes the idea, gurgling so loudly that he has to hide it behind a cough. 

Castiel ends up ordering some fish and soon their drinks arrive. Dean barely has time to sip at his red wine before Naomi pounces. 

"So, tell me everything, how did you two meet?"

Dean nearly chokes on his drink. Castiel seems to gulp down his whole glass. 

"We met at a coffee shop. Dean was in line in front of me and we started to talk," Castiel explains, not quite meeting anyone's eyes.

"How quaint!" Naomi exclaims, clasping her hands in delight. "I'm just sorry that you didn't tell me about it sooner, Castiel. How long have you been keeping this charming man a secret?"

"Not-," Castiel clears his throat, "-not long."

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you Dean. I sure wish this luncheon will give me the chance to learn everything about you."

Luncheon? Who even talks like that outside of Downton Abbey?

"I do hope I'll get to keep some mystery, we wouldn't want this guy to lose interest," Dean says with a wink. He pats Castiel's hand on the table. Should he hold it or something? How open on PDA are gay people those days? Not that he knows more about how heterosexual couple act in public anyway, especially in those crowds. It's probably safer to keep the PDA to a minimum here. 

"You have to at least tell me some things. For one, what career path are you on?" She looks like a shark circling her prey. 

"I'm a mechanic," he lies. He'd rather stay as close to the truth as possible. It's a little unfair that Castiel is letting him do all the talking when his initial demand was that he stayed silent, especially since it's his skin that Dean is apparently saving, but the guy looks like he's swallowed a potato whole. 

"Oh, that's...interesting," Naomi says in that insincere tone of hers. She looks like he told her he was fucking children’s corpses every full moon. He's two seconds away from telling her that he's actually jobless, penniless, and homeless, just to see her face, when Castiel intervenes. 

"How is Anna's engagement party coming on?" 

Thankfully, this seems to be a subject Naomi loves because she tells them about every aspect of the future party all the way through their meal. 

Duck, as it turns out, is actually very good. It's more like red meat than chicken, which is a great surprise. Although, Dean isn't a fan of the way rich people put tiny quantities of food in very large plates. He eats all the dinner rolls and scrapes every single bit of sauce out of his plate, yet he's still hungry by the end of it. He nearly starts crying when the waiter asks them if they'll take dessert and Naomi declines. He's starting to wonder if that little piece of duck was worth sitting through lunch with her. 

"That sounds like you're turning this into a wonderful event, mother, Anna must be delighted," Castiel compliments. 

"Oh, you know your sister," Naomi waves it off. "It sure feels like a nice opportunity to introduce your new beau to everyone."

Dean frowns. What's a beau? Is that him? That's not him, right?

"I wouldn't dare take any attention away from Anna," Castiel tries to refuse. 

"Don't be daft, you know your sister won't care. Everyone will be so happy that you've finally found-" she passes a long look, over Dean, like she's doubting anyone would actually approve of him. She certainly doesn't seem to, "-someone," she finishes lamely. 

"Oh shoot, I don't think I'm available that night," Dean tries to play off. 

"I'm not sure I've told you the date of it yet."

"Cas did," he says. The other man perks up at the surname, but whatever, 'Castiel' is a mouthful. "And I have this huh work thing, you know? Bummer," Dean says with a fake pout. 

"What kind of 'work thing' can a mechanic possibly have on a Saturday evening?"

Dean tenses up, pursing his lips. "One he can't get out of?"

"Nonsense, you're coming," Naomi brushes off. And that is that apparently. Shit. There is a vein about to pop on Castiel's forehead. "Castiel, dear, you look a little white. Was the fish okay?"

"I-Yeah-I-Actually, do you think we could possibly cut our lunch short? I am indeed feeling quite unwell."

"Of course, my dear," Naomi says, leaning forward until her hand touches his forehead. "You're as clammy as a fish. I should come home with you, and make sure you're okay," she announces, taking her napkin off her lap and deposing it on the table, ready to stand up. 

"No!" Castiel stops her, a little too brusquely. "I-Dean will take good care of me, don't worry," he says, getting up and grabbing Dean's arm so he does so too. Dean follows his lead, all too happy to get out of here. "Stay and enjoy your tea, mother."

"If you say so," Naomi says, sending an unsure look at Dean, obviously upset at being brushed off in his favor. "Call me this evening, or I'll worry all night."

"Of course, mother," Castiel acquiesces, kissing her cheek. Dean hovers behind him. Is he supposed to kiss her too? Wave hello? Shake her hand? 

"Dean," she says as what is apparently a sufficient goodbye. Thank God. "I'll be sure to see you on Saturday," she reminds just as they're walking away. 

Cas turns on him as soon as they're outside the restaurant. 

"What was that?!" he asks, not quite yelling. He starts pacing, rubbing a hand through his already pretty ruffled hair. 

"You owing me five hundred bucks? Dude, you're lucky I don't charge you more for the fresh hell I just lived through."

"You went through hell? You?!" his pacing gets faster and Dean has an idea that if he stops pacing he might punch him in the face. 

"That's what you get for asking this kind of stuff from a perfect stranger," Dean shrugs, pushing a pebble with the point of his shoe. His red sock is peeking out from a tiny hole near his big toe. It's such a contrast to how grand everything and everyone looked in there. It's making him feel like shit. He's maybe feeling a tiny bit guilty for trapping Castiel like that too. He doesn't seem like a bad guy, albeit one with a psycho mom.

Cas turns on him, eyes glaring and mouth open in what will probably be a flow of reproaches. He stops himself before he says anything though, seeming to deflate. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breathe instead, shoulders falling. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should be thanking you. I have no right to make you any reproach when I brought this on myself."

"It wasn't so bad, though, was it? I mean, I think I sold it?" Dean asks, a little hesitant. He even used pedantic talk and everything. 

"You did as well as could be expected."

"That's not much of a compliment…". 

"I shouldn't take more of your time," Cas apologizes, taking his wallet out. Dean goggles at the amount of cash in there. 

"You really shouldn't have that much cash on you, that's, like, asking for trouble."

Castiel squints at him like he's wondering if that means Dean is gonna rob him for a moment, before he hands him a wad of cash. 

Dean's eyes bulge out, "That's way more than five hundred dollars."

"There's also an advance in there to buy some clothes for the engagement party."

"The what now?" Dean blinks dumbly for a second until his brain catches up to what is happening. "Dude, no, I'm done!" 

"You were the one to push it so far in the first place," Castiel reminds. Accuses, really. 

"I just wanted to eat fancy food, okay! Not, like, go steady."

"There will be lots of food at my sister's engagement party," Castiel tries to persuade. Badly. 

Dean gives him a nonplussed look. The cash feels heavy in his hand. He's never had so much before. This could help him get a new start. What's a night of playing Downton Abbey compared to the many many nights he might not have to freeze his ass off in the backseat of his car thanks to it?

"Why are you even doing this anyway? And why would you choose me? Do I look that desperate for cash?"

"No," Cas says after what's definitely a too long pause. Dean scowls. "You were in front of me in the coffee shop line. I heard you talking on the phone. You said you needed some cash to buy a new outfit for a job interview. Begged, really."

"Where the fuck do you get on listening in on other people’s conversation?" 

"I didn't listen, I just heard."

"You know, what? Fuck you," Dean spits, "I don't need that bullshit in my life right now." He has enough cash to get to Austin and replenish his stock of food, even buy some new clothes. At least this way he can keep his dignity rather than being insulted by a bunch of rich assh-

"Please," Castiel begs, following him as Dean storms away. "You don't understand…"

"Oh I understand perfectly," Dean says, stopping and turning around so brusquely that they nearly bump into each other. "You think you can shit on other people from your high horse and that they'll still do your deed for a few hundred bucks. Well, I'm not your freaking puppet, man."

"I have never shitted on any-" he stops himself with a frustrated groan, before turning on the puppy dog eyes. "Dean, please. Listen to what I have to say at least?"

"I know what you're gonna say. I've seen that movie before, Cas. You're going to bring me to that party, so you can parade me around like I'm some earned price or some shit. Meanwhile you get to appease mommy dearest and the clan of hyenas putting pressure on you to find a husband, while still having the satisfaction of giving them a huge fuck you by bringing a guy like me instead of the golden boy they're dreaming of."

"I-" Castiel stops himself, pursing his lips. "That's actually not that far from the reality."

"Of course it isn't. Told you, I've seen that trope before. Except this is real life and your plan sucks, so you can keep your money and I'll keep my dignity. Just grow a pair and tell them all to fuck off, will ya?"

"You sure do like saying that to people," Castiel sulks. "Are you sure you can't do it for me?" 

"Oh believe me I would love to tell your mom to fuck off, but I like my balls attached to my body, so that's a hard pass."

Castiel laughs slightly at that and Dean can feel his own anger start to abate at the sound. "Good self-preservation instinct on your part," Cas mumbles. The puppy look is still there, except now it's making him feel like he's kicked the puppy.  

"You know, we're in the 21st century, right? You shouldn't feel pressured to the point of inventing a boyfriend. Who gives a shit about that nowadays?"

"My family does," Castiel answers in a long sigh. "You don't get it, how could you... I have three brothers, Dean," Castiel explains. "Two sisters. My little sister, who is just nineteen, just got engaged. I was already seen as the irremediably unwed one and now I…," he pauses, sending a nervous look at Dean, looking ashamed.

"Oh come on. How hard can it be? You're rich, objectively good looking. Do you have weird kinks or something?"

 "I-I wouldn't know. I've never even been in a relationship before," he confesses, looking at the ground.

"When you say 'relationship', you don't mean you've never…" Dean inquires. Cas' cheeks redden, and Dean blows like he just got punched. "Wow. That sucks."

"Yes, it's very pathetic."

"What? Eh no, it's not pathetic. Surprising, yeah. But, to each their own, you know?"

Cas inclines his head like he's not sure he does know. 

"I'm sorry I tried to drag you in all of this. You seem like a good man. You don't deserve-"

"-to be served on a platter to your family?" Dean asks, searching Castiel's gaze until they exchange a smile. 

"Yes. That." The man is still looking dejected. The money is still in Dean's hand. That duck really was good. Damn it.

"The food better be freaking awesome," Dean relents with a frustrated grunt. Castiel seems instantly relieved. "And you're not pretty woman-ing me," he warns, pointing a finger at the other man. "I'm choosing my own clothes and I don't give a shit if I don't know which fork to use for fish."

Castiel's head is tilted and he's blinking owlishly, like he doesn't understand a word that Dean is saying. Figures. He's not sure how he could convince anyone that he's this dork's boyfriend, honestly. Naomi certainly looked like she wasn't fooled. 

"I'm sorry for the way my mother behaved toward you. I assure you, being yourself will be amply sufficient to the task."

"Dude, the way y'all talk, where do you come from, Victorian England?"

"I-I don't think I have English ancestry, no. Why?"

They blink at each other for some time. 

"I must be a freaking masochist."

Cas' face scrunches up even more in incomprehension. 

"Okay, let's be clear on one thing from the start. This is not a lifetime movie and I'm straight, so: no falling in love, get it?"

"I get it, Dean," Castiel nods. 

Well, that's it then, apparently Dean is going to a fancy engagement party with his new boyfriend. What a weird day... 

You can read the rest on AO3

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 15

Chapters: 15/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14]

Almost a year into their relationship, Martin's lease comes up.

There's brief romantic talk of them all moving in together, but they're all attached to their own spaces, especially with Gerry needing to keep his art studio, and it trails off without any real resolution.

When Martin's landlord doesn't want to renew and he essentially has no choice but to find a new place to live, he panics.

Jon is with him when he opens the letter, and witnesses the heartbreak on his face, a look far more appropriate to the death of a loved one than to having to move house.

He understands though. This is Martin's first home. The first rent he paid, the first freedom he claimed. The first place he had whispered 'I love you' to Jon, and the first place Gerry had pressed his lips to Martin's.

Jon is settled in his own flat in a more practical way. It's close to the library, Gerry's bar and also to Martin's bookstore, but he still understands Martin's heartache, even if it is detached from his scope of personal attachment.

As Jon takes the time to think things through, he knows they're being silly. When was the last time he had commuted to work from his own flat? And if Martin had to move anyway, why shouldn't the three of them be living together? Gerry would happily spend every spare second with them and frequently tells them so.

At their knock, Gerry opens the door in a pair of leather pants and not much else, hair faded out from navy to a soft violet.

He physically reacts to see Martin tear-stained and Jon frowning intensely at his side.

"Why tears? Who do I need to murder?" Gerry mutters darkly as he draws Martin inside and into his arms.

"He has to move out of his flat," Jon tells him angrily, still standing in the doorway.

"Oh, love." He whispers, rocking Martin gently.

"It's so stupid to cry about it. It's just a shitty little flat." He hiccups into Gerry's chest.

"Fuck that. We all know better than that. That flat was important to you," Gerry retreats further into the studio, dragging his weepy partner with him and leaving Jon to shut the door. "And you're important to us, so here's the plan. Gertrude and I are gonna dig up some dirt, we're gonna have a little chat with your landlord, and he's gonna agree to sell you your flat. Problem solved."

Martin laughs wetly as he is deposited in the cushion pile and Gerry follows him down to sit in front of him and take his hands.

Jon strips his jacket and scarf off and tosses them on the couch (the biggest indication of his upset, really, as he normally always meticulously hangs things up), before flopping down on the floor with them. Martin and Gerry offer a hand each, and they sit in a triangle, connected.

"Gerry, you can't blackmail my landlord into selling me my flat." Martin starts, voice still choked with tears, "Not least of all because I can't afford to buy it anyway. I already have a business loan, not to mention all the debt from before my mother died."

Apparently able to sense any great excess of emotion, Luna and Saturn wander in and both attempt to curl up in Martin's lap. Jon takes Saturn, leaving Luna to her tearful human. Martin smiles gratefully and disentangles his hands to pet behind her ears.

There's silence for a moment as they consider Martin's words. Gerry opens his mouth, closes it, then decides to say what he wants to anyway. "I could lend you the money. Or give it to you. Whichever you prefer."

The look on his face could be accurately described as casually angelic, and he reaches out a hand to stroke Saturn benevolently.

Martin and Jon stare at him, stunned.

"What do you mean?" Jon eventually prods him, incredulously.

Gerry opens his mouth to respond, but Jon senses the sass coming and adds, "A real answer please," rather firmly.

"Fine then," Gerry mutters, rolling his pretty teal eyes. "I have some money in savings. And in investments and stuff, I'm not actually irresponsible, despite what my appearance might imply. And the years I spent galivanting about the county. And Europe." He shrugs, rambling on, "Okay, maybe I am irresponsible."

His partners stare at him for a moment, then exchange a look.

“Define some money?” Jon says, poking him in the ribs. Gerry tells them.

“What!?” At Jon’s exclamation, Gerry blushes from the roots of his hair, and all the way down his bare chest.

"Where did you get it?" Martin finally asks.

"From selling my paintings?" Gerry responds, but it comes out as a question, and he rubs his burning neck in embarrassment.

"And," Jon says, voice carefully neutral; having regained some sense of composure, "why do you keep your job at the bar if you have enough money to casually offer to buy Martin a flat?"

"Don't feel left out Jon, I'll buy your flat too." Gerry offers, smiling at him beatifically.

"Gerry…" Martin lets out his name in the significant tone of voice that lets him know this is a 'serious conversation'™ and to get his shit together.

"Okay, okay," Gerry flaps his hands uncomfortably. "At first it was just because I was convinced that the painting money was gonna dry up and I didn't want to be left in the lurch. I've always operated anonymously and that made it hard to make money as an artist, it was only when Gertrude joined the crusade that I found any success. She insisted that people would buy prints online, and she was right. The digital art and prints were really popular, and it led to people wanting the originals." Gerry pauses and shakes his head in disbelief. "And Gertrude always has to be extra about everything, so she sold them at fucking auction instead of pricing them, which made me seem edgy and exclusive."

"You are edgy and exclusive," Jon interrupts to insist, a slight petulant edge staining his voice.

"Thanks," Gerry mutters, still blushing. "Anyway, so then I had all this money, but I was convinced it wouldn't last and now it's been years and it's only gotten worse and I was panicking so Gertrude took half the money and helped me put it into investments, which have mostly been pretty successful too, so now I have all this fucking money that I don't know what to do with, so Martin, would you like a flat?" Gerry ends his monologue slightly hysterical and Martin laughs out loud at the slight desperation in his voice.

"Do you even own this flat? I've been wondering how you could possibly afford it." Martin asks him, gesturing around at the massive space in one of the most up-and-coming parts of London.

"Yes, it's one of the only significant things I've ever actually paid for with the art money. You know, to do art in."

"And were you ever planning to mention this?" Jon queries, sounding slightly put out. He frowns down at the cat, instead of his ridiculous boyfriend. Saturn decides at that moment that he's had enough belly-rubs, and without warning, sinks his claws in, bites Jon's hand and then scurries off. Jon glares at his fluffy black tail as it disappears up the stairs and Gerry tries very hard not to laugh at him.

"Jonathan!" Martin scolds him, pushing his shoulder gently to regain his attention. "Gerry doesn't have to tell us about his finances."

Jon pouts even harder.

"Jon's right, I should have said something. I just didn't want it to be a big deal." Gerry responds, voice quiet and unusually reserved. He looks a little adrift and helpless, and they can see just how uncomfortable the money talk has made him.

Jon sighs and dislodges the stick from up his ass. "It's not a big deal, love, I'm only surprised. I'm glad it's out the way now." He collects Gerry's hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles.

Gerry relaxes and tugs Jon closer to kiss him, before offering the same to Martin.

They all sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, digesting the day's many revelations.

“Not that I’m not incandescently happy to see you both, but why did you actually come over?” Gerry asks eventually.

“Oh,” Martin sits up straighter, remembering their original objective. He looks down at the cat in his lap, stroking its back in an effort to distract himself. “It’s a little awkward actually.”

Gerry raises his eyebrows, thinking of what could make Martin feel awkward after all the things they’ve done together, occasionally right where they are currently sitting.

"Do tell." Gerry urges him. Martin and Jon share a look. Gerry rolls his eyes at the pair of them. "Come on, guys, whatever it is, just tell me. It can't possibly be that bad. Unless you're breaking up with me? Because fuck that."

"No, Gerry," Jon says, sounding amused. "The opposite."

"The opposite?" Gerry asks, frowning.

"Yes, the opposite," Jon tells him more firmly. "We were thinking," Martin makes a small nose at this, "that is, I was thinking, that since Martin has to move anyway, the three of us should finally take the plunge."

"You know," Gerry mutters peevishly, "I love riddles as much as the next overdramatic goth with a young adult book obsession, but could you please spit it the fuck out."

"Jonthinksweshouldallmoveintogetherhere." Martin finally rushes out, breathlessly.

"Martin, baby, those are separate words."

He takes a deep breath and tries again. "Jon thinks we should all move in together, here, with you."

Gerry sits up taller abruptly, a wide grin spreading over his handsome face. "What, really? You actually want to."

"Well, yes," Jon says, although his voice still sounds nervous.

"Okay great. Luna and Saturn are gonna love this." Gerry jumps up excitedly. "So I know you guys like having your own personal space, and I always have my art shit everywhere, but I've been thinking and I think we can make you both comfortable here too."

Martin and Jon share a perplexed look at Gerry's sudden frenetic burst of energy.

"We'll be comfortable here no matter what," Martin rushes to reassure him.

"Hush," Gerry speaks over him. "We both know you're just saying that because you feel like an inconvenience. But you're not and we all have to make this our home. Come, come on, I want to show you."

Gerry grabs a hand from each of them and drags them behind him and around and under the wide stairs that lead up to the loft space.

He leads them to two doors under the stairs, leading them into one. It's a large storeroom, technically, and Gerry has filled it with extra paint, canvases of many different sizes, and a plethora of other painting supplies. There aren't any windows, and the industrial light makes the space look stark. The scent of oil paint and turpentine is pervasive, but homey since those are things they associate heavily with Gerry himself.

"They're both the same. I've been thinking that if you two ever did want to move in here, you could take one each. A creative space just for yourselves, or your own bedrooms if you need some space once in a while. If you want them." His typical self-confidence is slightly lacking, the nervous twist of his fingers belaying his nerves at the admission.

"Oh Gerry," Martin says with something akin to wonder in his voice.

"But aren't you using them?" Jon asks, never one to let romanticism come in the way of practicality.

Gerry shrugs, "I've been thinking of having cupboards installed in the studio space and moving all this in there anyway. It will be more convenient for me when I'm working and it will be worth it to have you here all the time."

Gerry pauses, brow furrowing. "I've also considered moving the art studio in here so you two don't have to trip over my art stuff all the time."

Martin and Jon both understand the significance of that offer, knowing that Gerry's favourite things about this place are the high ceilings, giant windows, and natural lighting at most times of the day and even at night.

"You would be willing to give up your art space for us?" Martin asks in some wonder.

"Well yeah, of course," Gerry says as if it's obvious. "We'll all have to share the bedroom then, but the living space will be bigger. Whatever you would prefer."

"Just like that?" Jon's blunt incredulity finally tips Gerry off to their shock.

"Oh come on. I obviously haven't been a very good boyfriend if you two don't already know that you're more important to me than painting." It was the most romantic thing Gerry could say to anyone, really.

Martin kisses him, tearing up again.

"What did I say? Don't cry, love." He reaches up to wipe the tears away, and Martin offers him a wobbly smile.

Jon goes over to kiss him too. "You love us more than art."

"We're going in circles here. Yes, I love you both more than literally anything." Gerry is starting to wonder if they're being obtuse on purpose.

"We love you too," Jon tells him emphatically.

"Of course you do. I'm delightful." They all dissolve into laughter at that, the weighty mood breaking with it.

"So do you think you'll both be happy here?" Gerry asks when the laughter has faded.

Even standing in the mildly dusty storeroom and breathing in paint fumes, Jon knows the answer already. "I think we might be able to make it work."

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Forty

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: TW - Mentions of past abuse! Angst. Fluff. Smut.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

“It’s good to see you, Y/N. How was your trip to England?”

“It was incredible! Would you like to see some pictures?” You say to Dr. Mara

“Sure.” You show her a few. “That is incredible.” She squints at you. “You look a little tired.”

“Long couple of days. Went out drinking a few times. Harry and I, uh, had sex when we were in London.”

“Wow, how do you feel?”

“Great! I’m really happy we waited as long as we did, but I’m also really happy to be so close with him now.”

“Any flashes?”

“Yeah, during the first time. But it didn’t happen until the end…it was scary in the moment, but I was fine after.”

“How often have you been active since then?”

“Just about every day, sometimes it’s multiple times a day. It’s been fun.” You smile. “We’re really exploring each other. I’ve been feeling like my old self lately.”

“So…what’s getting at you today? Is it him living with you?”

“No, I love that we’re living together. That transition has been relatively smooth.” You look away then back to her. “He keeps bringing up doing me from behind.”

“Oh.” Her face falls.

“Yeah.”

“He doesn’t know that’s how…”

“No. And I can’t bring myself to explain it. He just wanted to have a conversation yesterday and I blew up at him. The day just got worse and I had a panic attack.”

“I’m so sorry dear.”

“I felt better this morning, but I know I hurt him last night too. I didn’t let him hold me while we slept.”

“You two usually hold each other?”

“We usually fall asleep cuddling in some fashion, yeah. We usually wake up that way too. I just didn’t want to be touched last night though, everything was running through my head.”

“That’s understandable.”

“I just can’t bring myself to do that yet, it seems stupid because we’re having sex now.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid. That’s a very vulnerable position to be in, regardless of what happened to you.”

“I know he’d be careful with me.” You look down at your hands. “I can tell he tries his hardest to hold back. I can tell he just wants to pound into me…I feel like when we’re doing it we’re not fully able to let go and be ourselves because we’re both afraid of something bad happening.”

“Would you prefer to have aggressive sex?”

“It’s not that I want it to be aggressive, but I would like to get to a point where I can tell him to fuck me, and he just fucks me! It doesn’t always need to be sweet, does it? I just want to be a normal fucking person!” Tears start to well up. You grab a tissue not wanting to mess your makeup up. You still had to go back to work after this.

“Y/N, no need to get worked up, alright? There is nothing wrong with you.” She smiles warmly at you. You take a deep breath.

“I feel like every step forward I take, it’s two steps back.” You look at her. “I’m gonna have to tell him, aren’t I?”

“You should only do what feels comfortable, but good communication can go a long way. I hope you know you have made a tremendous amount of progress, and you should be proud of yourself.” She looks down then back at you. “I’m going to propose something, but it’s entirely up to you.

“Alright.”

“If you get to a point where you want to tell him, but you’d like some extra support, I want you to know you can bring him here with you. But only if you feel comfortable with that.”

“Okay, I’ll, um, think about it.” 

//

You think over everything on your way back to work. You scarf down your lunch quick at your desk. You see a note, it was from Harry. Came to surprise you, but you were out. Hope you have a good day. I love you. You sigh and smile. You tuck the note inside your desk. You decide to print the photo of him kissing you on your cheek. You dig out another frame you had and put it in. You stick the photo next to the other one you had of him.

Niall knocks on your door. There was a project he needed to go over with you.

“Got it, I’ll get right on it.”

“Thanks.”

“Listen, I’m sorry I snapped earlier.”

“I shouldn’t have pried.”

“Harry stopped by.”

“Yeah, I saw him.” He makes a strange face. “I made him tell me what happened.”

“Niall! Jesus fucking Christ!”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.”

“And let me guess, you told him?” He blinks at you. “That wasn’t your information to give him!”

“I’m so sorry, I was upset with him for what he did, and-“

“You don’t need to be upset with him! You’re not the one fucking him, I am, okay? This doesn’t concern you!”

“Everything okay in here?” One of the older women pops her head in.

“Everything’s fine. Niall are we done here?”

“Yeah.” He gets ups and leaves. You wanted to slam your door shut, but you knew that would be unprofessional.

You didn’t say goodbye to him before you left for the day. You had never been so annoyed with Niall. He tried to catch you before you left, but he just missed you. You drove to the apartment fuming, but trying to calm yourself. Excited to see what the place actually looked like.

//

“M’girlfriend should be here any minute. She’s usually the early one.” Harry says to the realtor outside the apartment. “I know it’s cold, sorry.”

“Not a problem, sure there’s traffic.” Harry sees your car pull up, you find a parking spot, and get out.

“Hi, sorry.” You kiss Harry on the cheek. You look unpleasant. “I’m Y/N.” You shake the realtor’s hand.

“Shall we?”

You and Harry follow the man inside. It’s a really nice lobby. You can see all of the mailboxes on the wall.

“Wow, there’s a lobby attendant here?” You say.

“Yes. There are a lot of elderly folks here, it’s a peace of mind thing. There’s often a doorman as well. In fact there was an elderly couple in this place before, but they recently moved to Florida.”

You follow him into the elevator. The apartment is on the fifth floor. The realtor unlocks the door and guides you in. There’s a hallway, similar to the one you have now, only there was a beautiful hardwood floor, looked newly refinished. There was a coat closet. You both step further in and see a large living room.

“Harry look!” You point to a gas fireplace. “We could put the TV above the fireplace, and the sofa could go here.” You gesture. He smiles and nods.

“The kitchen is closed off, but over here would be a formal dining area.”

“Oh! I like the idea of that. Much easier for dinner parties.” You push through a door and go into the kitchen. Yours and Harry’s jaws drop.

There were granite countertops, new cabinets, and stainless steel appliances. There was a small island similar to yours.

“Plenty of room for both of us in here.” You look around a little. “Everything is so new.”

“Place was renovated after they moved out. They were here for over thirty years.”

“Wow!” You take Harry’s hand.

“Ready to see the rest?” You go back out to the living room. “Let’s start with the loft, just up the spiral staircase. This is where the bonus room is.”

The three of you carefully go up the staircase. You and Harry walk around the small area. It could easily fit both of your desks and all of his equipment.

“Harry you could almost make this your studio if you wanted.”

“You’d be okay with having clients come here?”

“Sure, why not?” You shrug.

The three of you go back down the stairs, and go down a hallway.

“So here’s the hall bath, it’s a full bath that has jack and jill doors for the guest room.”

“It’s a great size, glad it’s a tub shower.” You both check out the guest room. It could easily fit Harry’s bed and other bedroom furniture.

“And here’s the master.” The realtor opens the door for you.

“Holy shit!” You exclaim. “Pardon me.” You giggle. Your eyes grow wider with every step you take.

The room was absolutely huge. There were two closets so you and Harry wouldn’t have to share anymore. You could easily fit a king sized bed down the road if you both wanted. The ensuite bathroom had a beautiful tile on the floor.

“Harry look, two sinks!” You say excitedly. Your jaw drops again when you see the shower. “It’s just like the one in London!”

“Yeah, no kidding. And there’s still a tub in here too, that’s good.”

“Oh I love it.”

“Why don’t you take a few minutes to chat in here, I’ll be in the kitchen.” The realtor leaves.

“What do you think? You’ve been quiet.”

“Just takin’ it all in. It’s a great place.”

“It’s incredible! I could really see us living here babe.” You smile at him.

“Me too. Seems like a great fit for us. That loft alone would be a big help.”

“What do you think, should we put an application in?”

“I think we should.” You hug him excitedly.

You meet the realtor in the kitchen, and tell him you’d like to apply. He gives you a form and a pen.

“Has anyone else inquired?” Harry asks as you fill out your portion.

“Not yet. You two found this place at a good time, not many people willing to move in the middle of the winter.”

“Here Harry.” You hand him the paper and pen. “So how long will it be until we know?”

“Well, the landlord will want to do a credit check and all that. In the meantime, make sure you have first, last, and the security deposit ready to go.” You nod along. “Should be able to tell you in a couple of weeks most likely.”

“Here you are.” Harry hands him the finished paperwork.

“Wonderful, thank you both so much.”

“Thank you!” You say.

“I’ll walk you both out.”

The three of reach the street. You both shake his hand again, and go to your separate cars. You can’t wait to get out of your work clothes when you get home.

“Want some of the leftover curry f’dinner? I can heat it up.”

“Sure.” You say walking into the bedroom. You come back out wearing pajama pants and a sweatshirt. Harry hands you a bowl, and you sit down at the island. “Thanks babe.”

He sits down next to you. You both exchange small talk while you eat.

“Did you see I stopped by today?”

“Yeah.” You smile. “That was nice of you.”

“How was Dr. Mara?”

“Good, it was a good session. I really shouldn’t go during my lunch, I was sort of worked up today, but she helped me.” Your phone starts to buzz. It’s Niall calling. You roll your eyes.

“You’re not going to answer?”

“No, I’m mad at him.”

“Why?” You drop your fork and look at him.

“You know why.” Harry bites his bottom lip. “I know he told you, because he told me he told you. It wasn’t his information to give out.” Harry goes to open his mouth. “And I’m not ready to talk about it yet. I know we need to, but I just can’t right now.” There’s a knock at your door. “That son of a bitch. I don’t want to see him right now.”

Harry gets up and opens the door, it was Niall. He blocks him from going further into the front hall.

“Would ya let me in?”

“She said she didn’t want to see you. Surprisingly enough, she doesn’t seem mad at me anymore, so I’d like to not rock the boat.”

“You’re wrong, I am still mad at you, but I’m choosing to let it go because you didn’t understand fully what was happening.” You say with arms crossed leaning against the wall. “Why are you here?” You squint at Niall.

“I tried to talk to you before you left, but I missed you.”

“Had an apartment to look at.”

“How was it?” You scoff. “Y/N, I’m really sorry okay?”

“You do this all the time! You tell other people things about me because you’re trying to protect me or some shit. It’s enough! I get it you two are best friends, but he’s my boyfriend, and I get to choose what information about my life he gets to know.”

“I’m your best friend too.” His eyes start to tear up. So do yours. “I love you Y/N, I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“I love you too Niall, but you two can’t run to each other every time one of us is upset about something. You need to let him and I work through whatever it is. Or if we want to talk to you about it, let us come to you, don’t pry for the gossip.” Harry’s a little taken back at how loosely the two of you just threw around I love yous. He wonders when you two first said that to each other.

“I’m sorry, I just got upset when he told me what he said, and I thought back to that day I came to your place and you…” He was full on crying and so were you. You walk over to him and you throw your arms around each other. Harry stands there awkwardly. “I can’t bare the thought of you bein’ mad at me.” He whispers.

“When it comes to what happened to me, can you just…not?” You look at him and he nods. “Okay, thank you.” You let go of him.

“Are we okay?”

“Yeah.” You smile and wipe your face.

“Don’t be too hard on the lad, he means well.” You look over at Harry and roll your eyes. You decide you’re going to start doing it even more because you know it annoys him.

“Mhm.”

“Well…I’ll get goin’. I just came by to make things better. I’ll see ya tomorrow.” You hug again. “See ya mate.”

“Bye.” Harry waves him off. You look at your boyfriend and roll your eyes again. He follows you back to the kitchen. You both sit back down to finish eating. “You’ve certainly gotten into a habit of doin’ that.”

“Doing what?”

“Rollin’ your bloody eyes at me.”

“My bloody eyes.” You mimic his accent and laugh. “I really don’t notice when I’m doing it.”

“Highly doubt that, love.” He sighs. “Are ya still mad at me, really? I feel terrible about everything. I really am sorry for upsetting you.”

“I just want you to listen to me when I say I don’t want to talk about something, okay?”

“I will.”

“I don’t want you to be afraid to talk to me about things, but I thought after the first two times I said no you would’ve gotten the hint.”

“I’m sorry, I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not.” You put a hand over his. “I know it’s, um, a really nice way to have sex, I just am not in a place where I feel safe doing it that way. And it’s not that I don’t feel safe with you…I just need to be able to look at you while we’re doing it. I don’t know where my mind will wander if I can’t see you.”

“Alright, makes sense.” He rubs his thumb over the top of your hand.

“What do you say we crack open that oat milk ice cream we got?”

“I hope it tastes good.” He chuckles.

“It’s cookies and cream flavor, bet it’ll be great.” You grab the carton out of the freezer and grab two spoons while Harry cleans up the bowls from dinner. You gesture to have him follow you to the couch.

You grab the remote and turn Chopped on. You loved Tuesdays on the Food Network. You both dig in to the ice cream.

“Mm, this is good.”

“Yeah! I’m surprised, honestly.” Harry says. “You know what’s crazy, we just put an application in for our very own place.”

“I’m so excited, I loved that place so much. There was so much space.”

“Yeah, I like that there’s some room to grow if need be.” He says looking at the TV. You choke on your ice cream. “Jesus, you alright?” He rubs your back as you swallow.

“What do you mean room to grow?” He blinks at you. He realizes he said an inside thought out loud.

“Um…just like if we got a dog down the line.” You squint at him, you knew he wasn’t being entirely truthful. “Plenty of room for a small dog to scamp around.”

It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about having kids some day, but you were only twenty-four. You were in no rush to care for a baby when you could barely take care of yourself. You knew Harry loved babies, but it was way too soon to start talking about any of that. Was it something he was already thinking about?

“Right, that’s what I thought you meant.” You turn your attention back to the TV.

“I love you.” He says.

“I love you too.” You nudge him. He puts an arm around you.

“Fuckin’ Ted.” He points his spoon at the TV. “He’s always gettin’ in the way! They only have twenty minutes mate!” You laugh hysterically. “It’s true!”

“I know! That’s why it’s so funny.” You take another bite of ice cream. “And that idiot over there doesn’t know how to properly grill pork, it’s gonna be dry.”

“Should’ve ground it up and fried it into fritters or something.”

“I agree.” You snuggle into him.

“M’gonna put this away, alright?” You nod. He puts the carton back in the freezer and gets back on the couch. “Would you lay on me?”

“Mhm.” You smile.

He lays on his back, head resting against the arm rest, you lay your head on his stomach, and lay your body between his legs. One hand laces in your hair, and rubs your scalp gently, the other hand rests on your back. He felt so happy to have your weight on him. He missed you so much last night.

“I missed you last night.” He says quietly. You look up at him. “Never gonna make ya that mad at me again, I swear.” You prop yourself up and kiss him.

“Wanna go make up?” You give him your bedroom eyes, and he picks you up immediately.

He turns the TV off, and carries you into the bedroom. You giggle when you sets you down and yanks your sweatshirt up of your head. His head goes right between your breasts, planting kisses where he sees fit. His mouth wraps around one of your nipples and your head rolls back. He twists your piercing with his teeth and you groan. He lifts you slightly and puts you on the bed. He leans up and takes his shirt off. Your hands trace over the butterfly. His skin was hypnotic. He pulls your pants down, and parts your legs. He kisses you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, then lets it go as he kisses down your neck, chest, and stomach. He sinks his teeth into your lower stomach and leaves a pretty decent bruise behind.

His mouth finds your clit next. Your hips buck up at the contact. His tongue flicks it a few times before he nibbles on you. Your hands go for his hair as you get lost in the feeling. His thumb replaces his mouth, and his tongue licks a stripe up your center. He hear him moan while he licks all around you. His tongue goes up inside you and you let out a moan of his name. You tasted amazing. Harry felt like he had been neglecting this side of things since you had started actually having sex. He could kick himself, why on earth would he deprive either of you of this?

“Harry.” You grind against his tongue. “Please fuck me.”

“Not yet.” He says bringing his mouth back to your clit, and inserting his middle finger in you. You pull hard on his hair. You want to clamp your legs together, but he uses his other hand to keep you spread apart.

His fingers curl up, and makes that come here motion deep inside you. Your head falls back into the pillow. You loved the way his tongue worked over your clit as his fingers hit that special spot inside.

“Shit, Harry.” Your back starts arching. “Harry.” You mean. “Harry!” You come all over his fingers, and your back arches completely off the bed. He slowly pumps in and out of you as you grind against him, riding out your high. “Fuck.” You say breathlessly.

He sits up and takes his own pants and boxers off. Dick throbbing and leaking for you. You grab at him, and rub your thumb over his leaking tip. You move him to lay down, and shuffle between his legs. You wrap your lips around his tip. You wanted to return the favor. His hips push up, and you take more of him into your warm mouth. You let go of him with a popping noise.

“Love the way you taste babe.” You say.

He grabs you and puts you back on your back. He grabs your legs and wraps them around his waist. He kisses you, sticking his tongue in your mouth as he pushes into you. He swallows your gasp.

“So fuckin tight, angel. Feels amazing.” He says into your neck before sucking the skin into his mouth.

“Love the way you fill me up, Harry.” He wasn’t going to last long with the way you were talking. “Don’t you think I should be on top?” You say into his ear. He leans up to look at you. “I mean, I think you should be teased a little for being so bad.”

“That so?” He smirks.

“Mhm.”

He rolls you both over so you’re on top of him.

“Don’t move until I say.” You grip the headboard, and slowly grind up and down on him. His hands slide up and down your thighs as he watches you ride him. His fingers dig into your hips, trying his best not to just thrust up into you. “Feels so good.” You say throwing your head back. You dip your hand down and rub your clit as you continue to grind against him slowly.

“Fuck, Y/N, please let me move.”

“Not yet.” You two had a habit of using your previous words against each other. Your breathing got faster as you could feel yourself getting close. You bite your bottom lip and close your eyes. “Shit.” You moan. You keep grinding against him, and look down with a smirk. “Alright, go ahead.”

Harry grips your ass and thrusts up into you causing you to gasp. You lean down on him and clutch at his shoulders as he fucks you. All of a sudden you’re on your back again, and the sound of skin slapping skin fills the air. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. He grinds into you and you moan loudly.

“You like that?” He smirks.

“Mhm.”

He fucks you like this for a few minutes, then drops your leg and comes down closer to you, crashing his lips to yours. You rake your nails down his stomach. His hands knead your breasts, one sliding up to your throat. Only lightly adding pressure like the other night.

“Just wanna remind ya of somethin’.” He says into your ear, nipping at your lobe. “You can take control whenever ya want.” His other hand reaches down for your clit and pinches it. Your back arches up in response. “But I’m the one in charge.”

He rubs on you quickly as he thrusts so deep tears come to your eyes. Between that and his words in your ear, you knew you’d be close again soon. He feels you tighten around him and your legs shake. You were sensitive now, but he didn’t let up.

“Fuck, Harry!”

“That’s it baby girl, come for me.” Your toes curl and your nails dig into his back, sure to leave marks. He groans into your neck.

“Fuck.” You say as your body goes limp around him.

He keeps going in and out of you, and you fully wrap your legs around him. He’s propped up with one arm, and his other reaches for your hand, you intertwine you’re your fingers. He brings it to the side your head. It was such a small act, but it turned you on so much.

“Fuck, I love you so much.” He says into your ear.

“I love you too. I love the way you make me feel, inside and out.” He nips at your jaw.

His thrusts start to get sloppier and quicker. He’s coming to his own release. You hear him moan your name a few times as he shoots up inside you. He collapses on top of you. You plant kisses to his forehead and run your hands through his sweaty hair.

He pulls out of you slowly and you wince from your sensitivity. You get up slowly and use the bathroom.

“Oh wow.” You say to yourself.

You didn’t realize how hard he had fucked you. You brush your teeth and wash your face. You smile at him as you open the door. He goes in to do his thing. You put on the t-shirt he had been wearing earlier, wanting to be fully encompassed with his scent. You crawl into bed, and scroll on your phone. He comes out a few minutes later.

“Shit, it’s late.” He says looking at the clock.

“S’only 10:30.”

“We’re usually in bed by now.” He chuckles. “When did we get so old?”

“Nothing about what we just did makes me feel old, speak for yourself grandpa.” He pretends to be offended.

“If I’m grandpa what do you think that makes you?”

“The young girlfriend that your kids tell you to dump because I’m only after your money.”

“I knew it!” You both giggle. “C’mere, love.” He opens his arms for you, and you lay on his chest. He sighs happily, playing with your hair.

“Mm, I love when you do that, feels so nice.” You close your eyes and listen to his gentle heartbeat.

//

You absolutely do not want to get up when you hear your alarm go off. Nor could you because Harry somehow had rolled on top of your body. You were starting to think you needed to set up a camera in the room just to see what he does in his sleep. You were a sweaty mess and you needed to shower. You turn your alarm off, and rub your eyes. You try to move, careful not wake him, but Harry’s hands grip at your sides.

“Five more minutes.” He says into your chest. You giggle.

“I have to shower.”

“But you’re soooo cozy.” He whines. You run your hands through his hair.

“Babe, please let me get up.” You coo.

“Can I shower with you?”

“Yes, but I can’t be in there long.”

He lets you up, and you throw your hair up into a bun on the top of your head. You didn’t have the energy to wash it. It was still pretty fresh from the salon. Harry was a sleepy boy this morning. He mostly just kept his arms around you while you washed yourself. You washed his back and chest for him. He woke up a little while you scrubbed his head for him. He kisses you before you both get out.

You throw a simple dress and boots on. You decide to keep your hair up in a bun, but you adjust it so it looks a little nicer, pulling some pieces out to frame your face. You put on some makeup, and grab a scarf to cover your neck with. You pack your gym bag as well before going out to see Harry in the kitchen making smoothies.

“Thank you sweetie.”

“Sure thing.”

“M’going to the gym after work. I’ll probably be home around six.”

“Okay, I might be home later than that. Gotta lot to do today.”

“Alright, I can make something for dinner then.” You smile and kiss him on the cheek. He grabs your wrist as you turn around. “What?”

“S’all I get for a goodbye kiss?” You giggle and press yourself against him. You give him a good kiss. “Mm, thank you.” He hums. “Can I come see ya at lunch today?”

“Sure! I’d love that.”

“Have a good day, love.”

“You too.” You grab your lunch out of the fridge, throw your coat on, and head out the door.

//

A coffee is waiting for you on your desk when you get there. You grab it and go down the hall to thank Niall.

“Good morning.” You say to him.

“Hey there.” He smiles at you. “You’ve been wearin’ a lot scarves lately.” He smirks.

“Yeah…it’s the only thing that covers these up.” You move it to the side to show him.

“Jesus. Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Sometimes.” You shrug. “But, not in a bad way.” You blush slightly.

“You two work everythin’ out?”

“Mhm…I still haven’t explained everything, but I told him when I felt ready I’d tell him.”

“Good. Sorry again.”

“Don’t mention it. Let’s move on.” You smile.

“Tell me about the apartment.”

“It’s beautiful! Gigantic too. We put an application in.”

“That’s great!”

“Yup, you know you and I need to plan a night for the two of us to get together. I haven’t even been able to tell you everything about England yet.” He frowns.

“I…don’t know if I can do that.”

“Why not?” You sit down. He sighs and looks at you.

“Well, on top of everything else last night, Sarah got mad at me.”

“About what?”

“I was like thirty minutes late to our plans…which were at my place.”

“Why were you late?”

“Because I wanted to make things right with you. She was pissed because she sat out waiting in her car because I haven’t given her a key or anythin’. She wasn’t thrilled when I told her I was at your place.” You roll your eyes. You knew Sarah had a tendency to get jealous, and make mountains out of mole hills. “She doesn’t really want me hanging out alone anymore. Says we have plenty of alone time at work.”

“What?! That’s ridiculous Niall. This.” You gesture between the two of you. “Is completely different than getting to hang outside of work.” You take a sip of your coffee. “So she’s basically telling you that you can’t be friends with me anymore?”

“I don’t know…but I don’t wanna rock the boat. I really like her, it’s been a while since I felt this way about someone.”

“Do you two love each other?”

“I’ve fallen for her yeah.”

“Do you think she’s the one?”

“Why are you askin’ me somethin’ like that?”

“Because it seems pretty fucking stupid to stop being friends with someone for a person you’re not even in love with.”

“Not everyone moves as fast as you and Harry you know? She could be the one. And I’m not stoppin’ bein’ friends with ya, we just need to lay low for a bit, til she cools off.”

“Fuck that.”

“You can’t say anythin’ t’her or she’ll get mad at me.”

“Niall, I fucking introduced the two of you, she’s not going to get away with this.” You groan. “Why does this always happen to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Anytime I have a guy friend their girlfriends always end up telling them to stop talking to me. It happened to me all the time in high school.”

“She didn’t tell me I couldn’t talk to you, she just doesn’t want me hanging out with you one on one for a while. And I wasn’t really in a position to justify anythin’. I wanna keep seein’ where this goes with her.”

You roll your eyes and sigh.

“I’m going to start the day, thanks for the coffee.”

//

Harry showed up for lunch just like he said he would. You hear a knock on the outside of your door.

“Hey you!” You say excitedly. “C’mon in, close the door.” You get up and greet him, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Need t’heat this up love.”

“Oh! You’re right. I’ll go bring these to the break room for us, hang tight.”

You leave to go to the break room. You see Niall sitting, waiting for you.

“Sorry, I forgot to mention Harry came for lunch. Probably shouldn’t eat together anyways.” You say putting your food in the microwave.

“Jesus, is this how it’s gonna be?”

“Not until you set her straight. If you don’t I will.”

“But what if she-“

“Niall, if this is something you two break up over, then it wasn’t meant to be. Harry doesn’t have a problem with us being friends, why should she?” He sighs. “You know I’m right.”

“Yeah, I know.” You put your hand on his shoulder, then leave with the food.

You go back into your office, and close the door behind you. You sit next to Harry and hand him his food.

“How’s your day so far baby?” You ask him.

“Good, busy already. Happy I could break away to see ya.”

“Me too.”

“This is such a good lunch, thanks again for makin’ it f’me.”

“You’re welcome my love.” His heart flutters.

“Come sit with me.” You giggle and sit on his lap.

“This is all the affection I can show you in here.” You coo.

“I know, just wanna feel ya on me.” He nuzzles into your chest. You stroke your hands through his hair.

You loved when he was like this. Just your cuddly boy.

[alex-ruins-everything]

Being Human - Chapter 1

A werewolf, a vampire, and a ghost live in the same home together, going about their lives and cherishing the little spooky safe haven they have created for themselves. Until they get a new roommate who knows nothing of the monster world or what he's gotten himself into

Read the whole thing on ao3 here.

It had been Patton’s idea to put the advertisement out. Logan didn’t think they needed to rent out the spare bedroom in their home, but Patton had convinced himself that they could help someone in need and the home was more than big enough, suited for a family rather than just a couple.

“Darling, you know I love your charitability, but there is one small issue about gaining a roommate that I fear you might not have considered,” Logan had said.

“What’s that?” Patton asked, tilting his head in the adorable way he always did.

“Well, how about the fact that you’re a werewolf, Virgil is a ghost, and I’m a vampire? Those things are hard enough to hide at work and in our day to day lives. Surely you don’t want to have to hide at home too…”

But Patton had given him those puppy dog eyes (no pun intended) and Logan caved just like he always did when his husband asked for something. He wrote up the ad and had a few interviews with candidates that Logan simply could not stand. Even Patton admitted after a while that maybe it wasn’t the best idea. He had changed his mind apparently since Logan got a text while on his way home from work at the hospital stating that there was someone there now and to hurry home. So much for running errands after his shift. Logan sped home, opening the front door to see Patton sitting in the living room with a young man while Virgil lurked at the top of the steps with a sour look on his face.

“Lo! Welcome home, love,” Patton grinned, hopping up from the couch to give Logan a kiss on the cheek. “This is Roman! He responded to our ad about the room.”

Logan looked Roman over, an arm slinking around Patton’s waist as they moved back to the couch across from Roman. The very first thing he noticed was how odd he smelled. Not in the sense that he smelled bad...just different in a way he couldn’t quite place. His heart was also beating unusually fast for a situation that seemed calm enough.

“Welcome to our home, Roman,” Logan spoke. “Now if you don’t mind there’s just a few questions.”

Logan went down his list, getting a pretty good sense of who this Roman was. He was an aspiring actor who worked at a diner nearby. He had moved away from home to try and get some better work closer to the main city, but his previous lease just ended and the landlord decided to raise rent way outside of his budget. He had no pets, worked odd hours between the diner and auditions and singing gigs so it was likely the three of them would rarely be home at the same time, save for Virgil who was always home but humans couldn’t see him so they didn’t mention the haunting spirit of the house. He even offered the first two month’s rent up front as soon as he got his security deposit back from his current apartment. All in all he seemed to be a wonderful candidate. The couple took his phone number and promised to call him back soon.

“I like him!” Patton said after Roman had left, cuddling up against Logan’s side.

“I don’t,” Virgil stated, finally coming down from the top of the steps. “He’s loud.”

“Patton is loud,” Logan replied.

“Patton is different. Roman is an annoying loud,” Virgil said, crossing his arms. “This was my house before it was yours and I vote no. I don’t wanna have to put up with him while you two get to escape the house.”

“Sadly I think Patton has made up his mind. Roman is going to come live with us, isn’t he?” Logan asked.

“Roman is gonna come live with us!” Patton cheered.

Logan made the call to Roman, giving him the news. He was to move in on the first of the next month and Patton made it his mission to get the spare bedroom all ready while Logan concerned himself more with obtaining a coded lock for the basement door so he could put a fridge for his blood supply down there. He also heavily worked on the shed in the backyard, fortifying it and soundproofing it for Patton’s monthly change. He still thought it was a highly illogical move, but Patton was excited so Logan could learn to manage. If worse came to worst they could always kill Roman. It was a morbid way to think but it made him feel more secure to have a backup plan.

The first of the month came and they both helped Roman move his few boxes of belongings into the house. Virgil was sulking in the attic where he usually went to get alone time. Patton had planned out a welcome dinner for Roman since both he and Logan took off of work for the night to help with the move. Patton ate regular food on a daily basis unlike Logan who didn’t need to. The food would just sit in his stomach until he got rid of it. He couldn’t digest human food. Patton was much better at making small talk, filling up most of the silence by conversing with Roman about mundane things. Auditions, family life, on and on. Apparently Roman had a brother, but he didn’t seem too thrilled about that fact.

“So how did you two meet?” Roman asked, causing Logan to look up from his mashed potatoes.

“Patton was a patient that came into the ER...and continued to come back. He can be clumsy at times,” Logan stated. “Then he ended up finding me outside of work and made his move.”

“And the rest is history!” Patton grinned.

“Aw, that's so cute!” Roman replied, smiling at the two before yawning.

“Lo and I will clean up, you go get some rest,” Patton instructed. “You must be beat from the move and all.”

“Are you sure? I’m not gonna pass out, I can help-” “We got it, kiddo. Off you go,” Patton assured, watching Roman ascend up the stairs and listening for the click of the bedroom door.

“Finally. I thought he was never gonna go away,” Virgil said, sinking down from the ceiling and landing on the ground.

“You don’t have to hide around him. He can’t see you,” Logan reminded, grabbing plates from the table and bringing them to Patton in the kitchen.

“He makes me uncomfortable. Weird vibes,” Virgil explained.

“Ah, yes. I believe the slang would be ‘theater kid’, yes?”

“Dude you’re asking the wrong person.”

“Oh you two are so cynical,” Patton butted in, helping Logan clear the table while Virgil levitated off the ground and crossed his legs. “I think he’s a nice young man. V, he’s about your age!”

“No he isn’t. I was dead before he was even born,” Virgil stated, glancing up as Roman’s shuffling around in his room could be heard. “Ugh...I just hope he doesn’t stay for too long.”

Logan’s phone went off with an alarm sound as he looked down at the text he got with a slight frown.

“Hospital needs me, I have to go,” he said, tucking the device in his back pocket. “I’ll see you in the morning, darling. Virgil, enjoy going bump in the night.”

Logan gave Patton a kiss on the cheek, apologizing for leaving him with all the dishes before grabbing his keys and heading out the door. Something Virgil said stuck with him, but likely not in a way the other meant for it to. How long would Roman last around this place? They’d just have to wait and find out.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Hello😀i requested a smutty part 2 to an Alfie piece you did but you didn't know which one I was talking about. It's the one we're Alfie sees the same girl on his way home every night and ends up walking her home all the time a relationship blooms and then her landlord kicked her out and she ended up at his door. You mentioned at that you would be willing to do a part 2 that I would absolutely love. Hope you know which one I mean.

//Sorry this took so long. The smut gods were not looking upon me favorably. That or I just had some writers block. Either way, I hope you enjoy!

            “I’ll stay,” Vivian whispered against his lips. “For as long as you need me to.” It was much more open-ended than either of them probably realized. Alfie knew he needed her for much longer than just that night. He needed her longer than time itself.

            He chuckled. “You might never leave then.” He teased.

            She shrugged. “I meant what I meant.”       

            It was all so overwhelming. Alfie had to take a deep breath. “Erm…should get you out of those wet clothes so you don’t catch your death.”

            Vivian’s cheeks went red. “I don’t really have anything to wear.”

            He was starting to get a little hot beneath the collar. God was testing him, right? Surely this had to be a test. “Well…I’ve got some clean shirts.  

            Was the room getting hotter? Vivian felt like she was going to burst into flames. “Okay.” She wondered if she was even speaking English. It felt like her mouth wasn’t connected to her brain.

            “And erm…I’ve got trousers but they won’t fit ya.” Why were his palms sweating? He wasn’t some blushing virgin and yet everything about this woman was making him nervous. She was far too sensible for him.

            “Do you have a pin?”

            “I might. Let me go…I’ll be back.” He clarified before heading upstairs. He tried to get his thoughts together as he grabbed one of his usual white linen shirts and a pair of trousers from the dresser. He rummaged through the drawers to see if he could find a pin but came up with nothing. There might’ve been one somewhere but his brain was so scrambled that he couldn’t think of anywhere else he might’ve kept them.

            Cyril was keeping Vivian company by the fire. His tail was thumping lazily, apparently happy to have a female presence in the house.

            “Couldn’t find a pin,” Alfie admitted. “Maybe could roll the waistband up a bit…”

            But apparently, Vivian had been thinking while he was upstairs. She stood up from her spot by the fire and walked over to him.

            He assumed she was going to take the clothes so he held them out to her. But then she kissed him so hard it took his breath away. There was an urgency that hadn’t been there the first time they kissed only minutes earlier. There was something she was trying to convey to him. Something that Alfie managed to pick up on.

            He dropped the shirt and pants and wrapped an arm around her waist. His other hand went to her cheek.

            Despite the warmth between them, the cold damp clothes on Vivian were starting to make her shiver.

            “I need to get out of these.” She murmured against his lips.

            “Are you sure?” Alfie of course wanted her to get warm but he understood the implications around her tone.

            Vivian nodded. “Please.” She whispered. “I need you.”         

            His heart was beating so hard against his chest. “Should keep you down by the fire though. Keep you warm.”

            She gave him a coy smile. “You can’t keep me warm enough?”

            “You know, you keep this side of you very well buttoned up.” He teased. “Just glad I get to see it.”

            “And you’re a lot more talkative behind closed doors.” She replied with a raised eyebrow.

            “Would you rather I put my mouth to better use?”

            Vivian’s face flushed pink. “Alfie.” She giggled.

            “Gonna go put Cyril in the kitchen. You need a minute?” He drew away from her.

            “I’ll just get more comfortable.”

            “Right, I’ll be back.” He gave her a lingering look before herding Cyril into the kitchen. “C’mon, you mutt. No kicking up a fuss either.” To keep the dog interested, Alfie filled up his bowl with dinner.

            When he returned Vivian had slipped out of her damp dress. Left in her stockings and slip she needed to stay by the fire to keep warm. She didn’t look uncomfortable but perhaps a bit antsy. “I put my clothes over the screen, I hope that’s alright.”

            Alfie had to tear his eyes away from her to see she had placed her wet clothes by the fire. “Yeah, ‘course. They’ll dry there.”

            While he was looking away, Vivian came up to him. “You look terrified.” She wondered if she had mistaken his intentions. Maybe she was coming on too strong.

            He gave a nervous laugh and returned his eyes to her. “I’m terrified you’re making a huge mistake, love.”

            “I know I’m not.” She asserted. “And I can prove it if you let me show you.”

            Alfie had no time to answer. She captured his lips with hers again and tangled her fingers in his hair. He groaned gratefully against her lips. He backed up, pulling her with him as he blindly found his way to the couch.

            Vivian straddled his hips. She was warming up in his arms, feeling the cold rainy night washing away. She almost felt giddy at the idea of being so close to him. To being held so intimately by him.

            They drew apart slightly and she went about undoing the buttons of his shirt. Alfie reclined back a bit against the sofa, taking in her form. “Fucking hell, how are you so beautiful?” He protested. “Ain’t fair.”

            She giggled and shook her head, her face getting hot again. “You’re just flattering me.”

            “Not at all.” He corrected. “Just tell it like I see it, love.” His hands rested on her hips, basking in the perfect curves of her frame. Everything about her was so soft and giving.

            As she finished removing his shirt, Alfie couldn’t help himself and began to kiss her neck. He’d apparently found a weakness because her hands went limp and she stifled a moan.

            “Ah ah, don’t hold back on me now.” He murmured against her throat. “Let the whole neighborhood hear ya.”

            Now he was really teasing her. Vivian let her head roll to the side a bit, her eyes slipping closed. She got lost in the feeling of his lips and teeth dragging across her neck and collarbone. Moving down until he tugged the strap of her slip down to free her breasts.

            Vivian let out a soft gasp, feeling a thrilling shiver go up her spine. She shimmied a bit to let the slip fall and pool around her waist. It was such a marvelous feeling. She didn’t feel nervous or shameful or self-conscious. The way he eyed her made her feel like a rare type of jewel or an expensive painting. She felt positively beautiful.

            The moment had caught her in such a daze that she didn’t even realize she was rocking her hips into his lap. It wasn’t until Alfie said something that she even noticed.

            “Fucking hell, woman, you’re gonna make me come dancing on me like that.” He picked her up and deposited her on the couch.

            Vivian was able to catch her breath a bit as he tossed aside his shirt. He knelt down in front of her and pulled the slip off her hips to throw it to the side as well. He hooked one of her legs over his shoulder.

            She was mewling softly before he even made contact with her. His breath against her center was enough to make her heart race.

            After a few swipes of his tongue, Alfie wasted no time.

            Vivian felt like every thought in her brain had disappeared. All that was left was the maddening sensation of Alfie licking and sucking at her clit while he slipped in a finger then two. Her breathing became shallower as she lost all semblance of rational thought. Her fingers knotted in his hair and tugged hard to encourage him to keep going. The pulls accompanied her breathless gasps of his name.

            Finally, one swipe of his tongue threw her over the edge. Her upper half jerked forward as she let out a sudden cry. It took a couple of moments before her muscles unlocked and she released her grip on Alfie’s hair.

            He rocked back on the balls of his feet. His hip was screaming in protest from the awkward kneeling position he’d been in. But that wasn’t even registering in his mind. Seeing Vivian coming down from her high was exhilarating for him. When she finally came back around, she gave him a satisfied smile. By that point, Alfie was so hard it was almost painful.

            As he tried to stand, his hip refused to be ignored. It felt like someone was driving a stake into him. “Fuck.” He grimaced.

            Vivian’s face morphed into concern. “What’s wrong?”

            “Ah, just me hip.” He replied with a grumble.

            She was aware of his sciatica. He made a point to complain about the weather because it always seemed to make the pain flare up. It may have been the rain. “Do you want…”

            “Oh, we ain’t stopping, love.” He shook his head.

            She smiled but stood up, feeling a little shaky on her legs still after her climax. “Here.” She pulled the knit blanket off the back of the couch and lay it on the floor. Placing another couple of pillows down, she gestured to him to lay down. “I’ll give you a massage.”

            The proposition was just too good to pass up. He lay down on his stomach, letting out a deep breath.

            Vivian straddled his waist and began to work at the knots in his shoulders and upper back. As she dug into the muscles Alfie groaned and swore with relief. It was something to behold when he became less tense and loosened up.

            She could only imagine the weight he held on his shoulders every day. If anyone deserved some relaxation, it was Alfie.

            As she worked her way down, she rubbed circles into his skin with her thumbs. She took her time on his hip, hoping she could at least alleviate some of the discomfort. But the longer she took, the more worked up Alfie became. It felt so good but he was looking for attention in another area.

            So, after a while, he tapped her thigh. “Gonna roll over.” He warned.

            Vivian lifted up a bit so he could move onto his back. He propped himself up on his elbows so he could kiss her gently. Almost a thanks for giving him so much affection and care. But she wasn’t done giving yet.

            While they kissed, Vivian began to undo his trousers. And only seconds later she had Alfie moaning again, slowly stroking his length. She was just begging to see the dominant side of him. The side that ruled Camden Town with an iron fist.

            So, Alfie gave it to her. He flipped her onto her back and without wasting time, began to slide into her. The pressure was enough to make Vivian whimper gratefully, but she still wanted more. She wrapped her legs around his waist and wove her fingers into his hair again.

            He kissed her deeply before beginning to rock against her, moving his hips in a slow but punishing way.

            When Vivian broke the kiss to moan, he began to leave bruising kisses down her neck. “Gonna make you mine.” He growled. “Gonna give you everything, keep you happy, and fuck you whenever you need it.”

            The way he spoke was making her toes curl. “Yes.” She agreed breathlessly.

            Alfie gripped her thigh and shifted slightly to get at another angle. Thrusting deep into her and making her moans become louder. “You’re mine, love. No other man will have you the way I do. Every inch of you is mine.”

            “Y-yes, Alfie, oh God, yes!” She cried and moved her hands to his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin.

            “Wish you could see yourself. Begging for me.” He murmured, his voice shaking with desire. “So beautiful.” His hand slipped down to rub her clit with his thumb.

            Vivian was becoming so overwhelmed, she pulled him closer, almost needing something to hold onto. She buried her face in his shoulder as she met each of his thrusts with a gasping breath. “Please, I’m so close, Alfie.”

            The more she spoke his name, the more enamored he became. And as much as he loved being in control, he was starting to slip into a state of ecstasy. Just instinct drove him forward, pounding into her at an unforgivable pace until he felt her tighten around him.

            She let out a cry and her arms locked up around him. It triggered him to meet his release too, spilling into her with a loud, almost animalistic groan.

            They remained that way for a bit, breathing heavily as they rode each ebbing wave of pleasure. Clinging to each other, while they enjoyed each other’s warmth in the final aftershocks.

            Finally, Alfie swore and rolled off of Vivian. The only sound in the room was the crackling fire in the hearth and a few people walking by outside.

            “How’s your hip?” Vivian broke the silence.

            He chuckled almost a bit winded. “Can’t feel it at all.”

            She moved closer to him and curled up in the crook of his arm. “So, we’ve established that I’m yours.” Her hand rested against his chest as he pulled her closer. “Does that mean you’re mine?”

            “Of course.” He looked down at her with a soft smile. “We’ll get your things from your place tomorrow. If you’d like, I wouldn’t mind if you moved in.”

            Vivian normally would’ve doubted such a move. She wouldn’t want to bother him, intrude, or anything of the like. But she had no qualms if he didn’t either. “Okay.” She agreed. “As long as you keep your promise of fucking me whenever I need it.”

            Alfie’s stomach tightened. This woman was going to kill him but at least he’d die a happy man. “You drive a hard bargain, sweetheart, but I’ll accept.” He teased and drew her in for a kiss.

[jaxl-road]

The League of Extraordinary Rockstars, ch.1

Summary: LA is a hub for music and mutants, making it the perfect place for Motley Crue, Guns N’ Roses, and countless other mutant musicians to call home. But it’s not all easy, especially when it comes to finding a decent place to live. So what better solution than moving in together in the mansion of an immortal? Love, drama, and super powers. If nothing else, it’ll be interesting.

Chapter Warnings: Language, genderswap!Steven

AN: This is a collaboration between myself and @the--blackdahlia​! It combines elements from her fic “It’s So Easy (And Other Lies)” (specifically her genderswapped!Steven) and my super powered GnR series. It is completely AU and ignores timelines like Woah, but hopefully you’ll have as much fun reading it as we’re having writing it! Let us know what you think!

~~~~~

Los Angeles. The city of angels. Also, the highest per capita mutant population in the United States. With it’s history of welcoming minorities, it was no surprise. And West Hollywood was the hot spot. Humans hanging out with mutants, getting their cigarettes lit by a bass player who could control fire, getting their joints from a singer who could control pot. Things were great in LA.

Well, pretty much. They painted a picture perfect world of mutants living in the hills with the rich and famous, when in reality, they were living in small apartments that had more mice than people in them. But the one nice thing about LA? It was usually sunny. Rarely a cloud in the sky. Stevie Adler smiled as she looked up at the sky.

And then there was the honking horn.

“Get out of the street you bitch!” A guy screamed from his car. Stevie sighed and shook her head, crossing the street towards the recording studio. Yeah, LA was a great city.

“What was that about?” Izzy asked from his designated smoking spot.

“Asshole is impatient,” Stevie shrugged. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Slash is hiding because Axl is screaming at someone on the phone,” Izzy explained. “Duff’s not here yet. But Baz is, and he’s getting a kick out of watching Axl trying to avoid going supersonic.”

“Is there a betting pool started yet on if he’ll lose it?” Stevie grinned.

“I’m giving him about ten minutes,” Izzy smirked. “I think it’s Neil he’s yelling at.” Stevie rolled her eyes.

A cold gust of wind blew past them, causing Stevie to shiver. It seemed to get darker all of a sudden, a cloud covering the sun, but before she could comment on it, Izzy was looking past her with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh-oh, looks like someone’s in a bad mood.”

Sure enough, when she followed his gaze, she saw a very sour looking Duff stalking towards them. The weather witch looked deep in thought, a scowl on his face, which made sense as he usually didn’t lose control of his powers like this, especially since he knew Stevie needed as much sun as she could get.

“Hey, stormcloud!” Izzy shouted, getting the bassist’s attention, “Reel it in, motherfucker! The weather report said clear skies today!”

Blinking, Duff seemed to notice the shift in weather for the first time, “Ah, fuck,” the clouds quickly dissapated, the wind dying down as the sunshine returned. “Sorry guys,” he sighed.

“What’s got you all worked up?” Stevie asked.

Running a hand through his hair, Duff glared, “A fucking pipe burst in my apartment. The place was shitty enough with cockroaches crawling all over me, now I’ve got two inches of water covering everything.”

“Hey, if you need a place, Tracii moved out so Slash and I have an empty room,” Stevie told Duff. “I might be able to dry your stuff out. I’m sure Nikki would help.”

“Yeah, because you know that Axl loves those guys hanging around,” Izzy laughed. “Let’s go inside.” The three of them headed in, seeing Baz and Slash, but no Axl.

“He’s in his tantrum hole,” Baz laughed, pointing at the soundproof room. “He’ll be out in a minute once he calms down.” Stevie headed over to Slash to talk to him, leaving Izzy and Duff standing there together. A few moments later, Slash was hugging Duff.

“Roomie!” Slash laughed.

“I see Stevie talked to you,” Duff chuckled.

“Dude, this will be awesome!” Slash grinned, “Now I’ll have my two favorite drinking buddies in the same house!”

“This is a terrible idea,” Izzy muttered to himself.

“What’s a terrible idea?” Axl finally emerged from his designated anger room, with a look on his face that said he was very consciously keeping himself calm.

“Duff is gonna move in with Stevie and me!” Slash exclaimed, “Apparently his place is underwater, and we’ve got some space since Tracii moved out, so it’s perfect!”

“...Yeah, I’m gonna agree with Izzy and say that’s a terrible idea,” Axl shook his head as he moved to lean against Sebastian’s side, “The three of you? In one place?” 

“It feels like a threat to public safety,” Izzy chimed in.

“You’re just jealous cause you know we’re gonna be the most fun house on the strip now,” Stevie teased. 

Izzy smiled tensely, looking briefly between Duff and Stevie before glancing away.

“Wait a minute, I thought Motley Crue had the most fun house on the strip,” Baz pointed out before Axl glared at him. “Sorry babe, but you gotta admit, they know how to throw a party.”

“I think that Nikki’s party trick of catching himself on fire is annoying and overused,” Axl huffed. “And you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Okay, before Sebastian and Axl start fighting to make up later, can we record some music?” Stevie asked with a laugh. “Duff, we’ll go get your stuff that can be salvaged. I’ll call Tommy to come help.” Axl groaned but Stevie pretended she didn’t hear.

“Think you can get through a couple songs without shattering the glass?” Slash joked at Axl. The singer merely flipped him off as they finally made their way into the booth. Stevie took a seat behind the drums, not noticing Duff and Izzy glancing at her. Slash just sighed and got his guitar.

Baz smiled as he listened to Axl sing, and soon, they had a couple rough tracks down before their studio time was up. Stevie bounced to the payphone to call Tommy while Slash, Izzy, and Duff talked.

“So...you’re moving in with Stevie…” Izzy said, staring at Duff.

“And Slash,” Duff pointed out. “Not just Stevie.”

“Right, right…”

“Gee, way to make a guy feel loved,” Slash pouted.

Izzy rolled his eyes, shoving Slash’s shoulder lightly, glad for the break in the tension as the three chuckled. At that moment, Stevie jogged back over, giving a thumbs up as she smiled.

“Alright! We’re all set! Tommy should be here s-”

“HEY GUYS!”

A gust of wind swirled around them as Tommy skidded to a stop beside them, his hair a wild mess around his face. The speedster gave Stevie a quick hug as he chattered, “Stevie told me what happened, that sucks dude!” He gave Duff a sympathetic pat on his shoulder, “I’ll totally help though! Nikki’s dealing with Vince right now, apparently he’s having a bitch fit cause of some phone call or something, I dunno, but he’ll be by to help out later. Anyway, how are the rest of you guns?”

Tommy gave Slash a quick hug, but when he moved to throw his arm around Izzy’s shoulder, his arm fell right through the other man, sending the drummer stumbling forward. Slash, Duff, and Stevie laughed as Tommy pouted at Izzy’s deadpan expression.

“Oh come on, man, don’t be like that!”

The next couple hours were spent bickering and joking as they waded through Duff’s apartment to clear out his meager belongings, Tommy running between the flooded space and Slash and Stevie’s apartment while Duff chewed out his landlord until he got his deposit back.

Duff came back to the soggy apartment to see Stevie standing there, holding a book and smiling. He raised an eyebrow until he saw what she was looking at, then he tried to run to grab it.

“Duff, you were so cute!” Stevie laughed.

“Let me see!” Tommy ran by, grabbing the book. As he did, a photo fell out of the back. Slash picked it up. “Duff, you were a dorky looking kid.”

“Says the guy who was wearing tights in a picture his mom showed me the first time we met!” Duff pointed out.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Tommy groaned.

“At least you don’t look as dorky as Stevie,” Slash teased, showing Tommy a picture of Stevie asleep next to Duff, her head on his shoulder, and most definitely drooling. “I’m just surprised you didn’t burn up the camera. Either with your sunshine crap or being so ugly.”

“Love you too,” Stevie rolled her eyes. “Why do you have that?”

“Just liked it,” Duff shrugged.

“Okay, well, do you guys mind like, getting out of here?” Tommy asked. “Everything that can be saved has been saved, and I can feel the mold growing on us as we stand here talking about how I’m much cuter than everyone else.” He smirked. “And Nikki said he’s gonna try to meet us over at your place to help dry things out.”

Nodding in agreement, the group made their way over to the apartment that housed Stevie, Slash, and now Duff. The place wasn’t much better than Duff’s old apartment, but it was dry, so they couldn’t complain. Plus, the bassist was happy to note that there were significantly less cockroaches than his old place contained (not no cockroaches, that’d be asking for too much, but less at least). 

On top of that, despite being small and dingy, Slash and Stevie still managed to make the place feel like a home. Cracks and stains on the walls were covered by posters, fliers, and magazine cutouts of their favorite bands, the pictures layered over each other excitedly. Their garbage dump couch was covered in an old tie dyed bed sheet to mask the tears. The kitchen counters held rows and rows of empty bottles, some of them containing the dried remains of long dead flowers that would probably give Vince a heart attack if he saw them. A lingering scent of cigarette smoke clung to the whole apartment, there was trash everywhere, and a pile of records reached halfway up the wall next to a thrift-store record player.

Duff immediately felt right at home. 

“So, your room is right over here,” Slash led the way down the short hallway. They passed a bathroom that had definitely seen better days, a bedroom covered in KISS merch that simply had to be Stevie’s, and another door covered in caution tape that was closed tight.

“That’s Slash’s room,” Stevie leaned over to whisper in Duff’s ear, “He thinks I don’t know about the python he’s got in there, but at least he keeps it contained.”

Shuddering at the idea of being in the same space as a large snake, Duff debated about turning right back around and returning to the lake of his apartment, but before he could, he was being steered into the final bedroom. It was a little smaller than his old place, but it’s not like he was picky. Tommy had piled his stuff along the walls in two groups- the stuff that needed drying, and the stuff that was okay.

Right on cue, there was a knock on the door. “Oh, that’s probably Nikki!” Tommy cried enthusiastically, and with a gust of wind was off to the door.

Sure enough, Nikki was there with Vince and Mick in tow. Nikki had a couple pizza boxes in hand, Vince had a sour look on his face, and Mick, well, was Mick.

"We brought pizza!" Nikki announced. "Two large supremes!"

"Did you get something not supreme?" Stevie quizzed.

"Just pick off the black olives and shit," Nikki teased. Mick smacked the back of his head and handed Stevie a pepperoni pizza.

"Here you go," He grumbled. "Nikki just likes to tease you."

Sticking her tongue out at the bassist, Stevie happily accepted her pizza, the group gathering in the living room to take a break before tackling Duff’s damp belongings. As they ate, Vince kept scowling, pouting, and muttering under his breath. Finally, Slash sighed dramatically.

“Alright Neil, I’ll bite: what the fuck is your problem?”

Glaring, the blonde singer huffed, “My problem is that your singer is an asshole!”

“Are we supposed to be surprised or something? This isn’t news,” Stevie chimed in.

But Vince continued as if she hadn’t said anything, “That bastard stole my favorite pants, I just know it, and when I called to nicely ask for them back-”

“He wasn’t remotely nice. I was there,” Nikki contributed.

“-he had the fucking audacity to say, ‘why would I ever steal your ugly-ass pants?’! Like, we all know that my style is MILES better that his garbage, midwest grunge look!”

“Don’t let Izzy hear you talking like that,” Duff snickered.

Meanwhile, Stevie’s brow was furrowed in thought, “Which pants are these?”

“My acid-wash jeans with the white stitching on the side,” Vince answered, sighing wistfully.

“Oooooh, shit,” Stevie grimaced, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I gave those to Axl after last laundry day.” Slash and Stevie’s apartment building was the only one in the group that had a laundry facility on-site, so once a week all the rockers showed up on their doorstep with a bag of dirty clothes and handfuls of coins for them. Slash and Stevie used to deal with it together, but ever since Slash decided that laundry detergent and dish detergent were interchangeable, he had been banned from the laundry room.

“What?!” Vince screeched, “Stevie, how could you?” he cried, his voice full of betrayal.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Stevie threw her arms in the air, “I was tired, we all dress the same, and you and Axl are the same size!”

“You take that back! I am a quarter inch taller than him and you know it!”

“Oh, excuse me,” Stevie rolled her eyes, “how could I forget? How’s the weather up there, skyscraper?”

Gasping in exaggerated offense, Vince turned to his bandmates desperately, “Do you hear this blasphemy? She’s trying to sabotage us! She wants to break my spirit and give my superior wardrobe to her singer!”

“Yes, Vinnie, she is clearly an evil mastermind,” Nikki chuckled as he looked at Stevie’s pouting face.

“Aw, come on man, look at her!” Tommy reached over, putting his hands on either side of Stevie’s face to squish her cheeks, “How can you stay mad at her? Look at this face!” Stevie giggled as the other drummer pulled her closer, both of them giving Vince puppy eyes as Tommy sang, “You know you loooove herrrrr.”

To Vince’s credit, he put in a good effort fighting off the smile on his face. But eventually he couldn't resist breaking into a wide grin at the drummers’ antics, “Goddammit, you guys, I have a reputation!”

“You do?” Nikki laughed as Vince punched his arm, the group descending into playful bickering and laughter.

"I think I saw something about his reputation on the bathroom wall at the Roxy," Duff teased, making everyone laugh.

"Guys I gotta pee," Stevie laughed. She got out of Tommy's hold and headed to the bathroom, Duff taking a peek.

"See something you like?" Nikki teased, elbowing Duff.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he huffed, shoving Nikki’s shoulder, “Didn’t you come over here for a reason? Come help me with my shit before it fucking dissolves or something.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it,” grinning, Nikki rubbed his hands together as they glowed lightly, the two bassists making their way back to Duff’s new room to try to salvage more of his stuff.

Tommy shook his head lightly and turned to Slash, “Dude, Duff and Stevie in the same apartment? Have fun with that.”

“God, don’t remind me,” Slash groaned, “You should have seen Izzy’s face when we were talking about it.”

“I can’t believe Stevie still hasn’t noticed.”

“Hasn’t noticed what?” Stevie chirped, narrowing her eyes suspiciously as she rounded the corner, making her way back to her seat.

Without missing a beat, Slash smirked, “That Tommy’s been trying to flick olives down your shirt for the last ten minutes.”

“Dude!” Stevie cried indignantly, smacking Tommy’s arm, “Not cool! This shirt isn’t even low cut, you’re just gonna just fucking marinara on it or something!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Tommy grit out, glaring at Slash as he, Vince, and Mick laughed at his misfortune.

The night went pretty smoothly, other than Vince calling Stevie ‘Benedict Arnold’ various times throughout the night, and Nikki almost catching a couple of Duff’s books on fire. But soon, the Crue headed out, leaving the three roommates in their home.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m beat,” Stevie yawned. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She said goodnight before heading to her room, Duff watching her as she went. Slash slapped his shoulder.

“I’m not living with you pining over her,” Slash groaned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Duff stood up and headed to his room. “Stevie doesn’t even like me like that.” With that, he headed towards his room, leaving the guitarist there to groan.

“It is a sad, sad day,” Slash muttered to himself, “when Axl is the one in a stable relationship.”

With one last shake of his head, he made his way into his own room, bracing himself for what was sure to be an interesting new living situation.

[captainmarvels]

wicked games [23]

Summary: Tom's past has finally caught up to him; but will it be the be-all and end-all of his life?

Pairing: CEO!Tom Holland x fem!Reader

Warnings: mention of sexual harassment (just the words, but still warning in case)

Word Count: 2734

A/N: today is Dec. 10th which means it’s been 2 whole years since I first started writing wicked games! I want to say thank you so so so so much for reading, enjoying, and loving this story as much as I love writing it - all the excitement and love some of you have given me, chapter after chapter, has made me stick around for the long run! xx caro

masterlist | tag list - add yourself!

You know that sinking feeling - the one that roots itself in the pit of your stomach like a tree, immovable? The feeling that drowns every nerve ending in your body in anxiety? Worry? Fear?

That was all Tom could feel as goosebumps spread along his arms, a cold sheen of sweat appearing across his forehead.

“Toyko? For a whole year?” His eyes felt like they were going to pop out of his skull from the building stress.

Dom nodded, a smug grin replacing the eerie smile he donned before.

“You and Harrison used to go on and on about the Asian market this, the Asian market that, and I figured that the fifth year anniversary of your company was as good a time as any to start up a new headquarters abroad,”

“How can you expect me to just up and leave for an entire year?” Tom asked, no longer hiding the shock on his face.

Dom shrugged. “Easy. You just do it, Thomas. You’re the CEO, for God’s sake! How can you expect to run a company of this magnitude well if all you do is sit on your lazy arse!”

Tom rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as Dom continued.

“I’m handing you the chance to expand and grow your company in a new direction, on a silver fuckin’ platter, and all you do is complain. I don’t understand how children can be so ungrateful,”

“I’m not a fucking kid, I am an adult, who is fully capable of making decisions for my company-”

“Is that so, Tom? Are you fully capable of handling the blow back from the media, your partners, the entire fucking world if they knew what you’ve done behind closed doors? Don’t think I’m ignorant enough to not know when my own blood is a drunken coke addict.”

The deafening silence seemed to swallow Dom’s words, yet they still rang clear as day in Tom’s ears.

Taking a deep breath, Dom set down another folder on Tom’s desk, and headed straight for the door before stopping, his hand gripping the handle tightly.

“Your flight leaves the 4th, at 11am. Don’t be late.”

“I’m gonna need you to repeat yourself, mate. Your dad knows?”

Harrison was pacing the floor of his apartment living room, hands fussing with the mess of curls on his head.

Tom sat on the sofa, eyes shut tightly as he replayed the conversation with his father in his mind.

“Oi, if he knows about the coke, then he has to know it was me, right? Why’d I have to be your goddamn drug dealer, Holland?”

“I don’t fucking know, alright? I didn’t think he’d ever find out about the coke, but if he knows about that, he’s got to know about all the other shit I’ve done,”

“You haven’t done meth, have you?”

Tom looked up at Harrison, his glare more than enough to shut up his best friend.

“Look. He knows about the coke; doesn’t mean he knows it was from you,”

Harrison rolled his eyes. “I was practically your only friend at Stanford, you idiot!” He scoffed.

“Fuck off, Haz! Listen to me - Dom’s a fucking prick, but I’m used to the threats. He’s nothing more than talk, alright? If he did anything to me, it’d taint the whole family name, and that’s not what he wants. He’d die before he lets anyone, even me, ruin the family legacy he’s spent years building.”

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose, silently counting his breaths as Harrison resumed his pacing.

“Have you told…” 

Tom shook his head. “I haven’t even gone home yet. I came straight here, I had to sort out my thoughts and everything,”

Harrison dropped down on the couch next to Tom, and gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You are gonna tell her, yeah?”

“I promised her no more secrets, mate. Besides… it’s hard to hide the fact that I'll be gone for a year.” Tom leaned back, eyes fluttering shut once again as he tried to steady his racing heart.

“And the drugs? Does she know about all that?”

Tom’s silence was enough of a response for Harrison.

“You said no more secrets, right? This will come back and bite you in the ass, you know.”

“Yes, I know. But I can’t just go dumping every one of my fucking problems on her, Haz. Everything with my dad is already too much for even me to handle - I can’t expect her to handle all this right off the bat. I need to focus on her and what we have - I just got her back.”

“You have a point. You’re really gonna do this, then? Leave for a whole year?” Harrison could feel the sting of tears in the corners of his eyes.

Opening his eyes, Tom glanced over at him. “There’s not much else I can do, can I? He’s already signed the lease for the apartment, and the check for the office space is waiting for my signature. There’s over three dozen resumes sitting on my desk, and I have to interview candidates as soon as I get off the plane.” With every word that rolled off his tongue, Tom could feel his anxiety spiking. He really was trapped.

“Tough shit, mate.” As they locked eyes with one another, neither could stop from breaking out in laughter. Tom shoved Harrison off the couch, only to receive a kick to the shoulder. 

“You’re gonna pay for that!”

“Bring it on!”

When Tom asked you to take a seat, you could feel your heart folding over itself as it began to brave for the worst.

Harrison sat next to you on the sofa, with (what was supposed to be) an encouraging arm wrapped around your shoulders, but it only brought more anxiety and tension.

What was going on?

Tom was pacing back and forth, his hands buried in the pockets of his suit.

“Should I be concerned?” You whispered in Harrison’s ear. He shook his head no, never taking his eyes off of Tom.

“My bastard of a father wants me to go to Tokyo for a year - for the sake of the company, or so he says.” Tom stopped in front of the tv, one hand on his hip, and the other on the back of his neck.

Oh. An all too familiar sinking feeling appeared, replacing the anxiety that had begun to consume you.

“He’s already got an apartment for me, and a deal’s been negotiated for office space in one of the best locations in the city - all that’s left for me to do is sign the check.”

You sat up, resting your chin on your hands as you repeated Tom’s words over. He could see the gears turning in your mind, and he wasn’t too sure if that was a good sign.

“He doesn’t do this sort of thing often, does he?” You aired the question for both of them, but clearly it took them aback.

“What do you mean by that?” Harrison asked, brows furrowed. Tom met your gaze and nodded.

“From what I know and have heard, seen, and whatnot - Dom really doesn’t seem to stick his nose in company affairs most of the time. Only when he needs something, in some sort of capacity. For example - why did he give you the money to start the company in the first place? What motivated him to sign a check for over $4 million to his inexperienced - sorry! - son?” 

Locking eyes with one another, Tom and Harrison seemed to share the same memory at that exact moment.

It was three in the morning when Dom got the call from Tom’s bodyguard.

“You’ll need to be present if you want him out on bail.” He heard over the phone.

“Is that Osterfield boy with him?” He asked, still groggy.

“Yes, but he was not arrested. He tried to stop him and-”

“Enough. Tell him to go home. Tom can sit in jail for a few more hours. Let them know I’ll be there with the cash before 8.”

 The entire car ride back to his apartment, Tom couldn’t stop fidgeting.

He fucked up. Worse than any other time, and he knew this was going to cost him.

Recognizing the iron-wrought gates of the family estate, Tom glanced over at Dom.

“Your mother is in London with the twins. We need to talk, and I’m not setting foot in the dungeon you call an apartment.”

As the SUV came to a rolling stop outside the front door, Tom bit down on his tongue.

Every time he did something wrong - arrested for possession of marijuana, Adderall, coke; quite possibly every drug imaginable- or caused a scene at some fancy nightclub, Dom was there to break his fall. 

That break always came with a price.

Sometimes the price was as simple as losing a percentage of his trust fund money. That didn’t bother him as much, considering $75,000 was mere change in his pocket. Other times, however, the price was a gamble. Like the time his father had to pay off a landlord so he wouldn’t break the lease after Tom and Harrison completely wrecked the vacation house they had been renting.

Tom wasn’t sure what this would cost him this time around.

They had barely entered the mansion foyer when Dom turned on his heel, and locked eyes with his son.

“You’ve been 21 for less than six months, and yet you’ve managed to put yourself through the goddamn ringer almost every week since then. Do you even care about your fucking reputation anymore, Thomas? Or any idea what this could do to the company?”

Fuck. The company.

The night of his 21st birthday, his father had signed him the coveted check for well over four million dollars - a check that wouldn’t be deposited in his account until he proved to Dom that he could get his shit together, put on a suit, and take on the role of CEO. 

As his father had put it - Tom had had his fun, but as his undergraduate career came to an end, he needed to start focusing on making a name for himself; getting a seat at the table that was his birthright. 

A start-up was just what he needed to set himself straight.

The project was well underway - it had made headlines the day Dom purchased the most lavish office space New York City had to offer. The plan was simple - have the company up and running smoothly by the time Tom graduated, so he could slip on the CEO suit and take over.

But nothing was ever simple when it came to Tom.

He had fought for hours with his father before they finally settled on an agreement for the money that night - only for Dom to turn around and slap him with a hold on the funds.

And here he was, rubbing it in once again.

“Are you listening? Graduation is months away, and yet here I am, bailing you out of jail for being a pathetic son of a bitch.”

“What the fuck do you want from me?” Tom spat, anger flooding every inch of his body. He won’t get away with this.

“I don’t even know anymore, Thomas.” His father sighed. “But this I know for sure; you fuck up like this again, and you can kiss the company and your trust fund goodbye.”

Tom’s jaw dropped, eyes threatening to pop out of his head from the utter disbelief.

“No you- you can’t fucking do that!”

“I can, and I will. I listed the company under the living trust, with the conditions we agreed upon the night of your birthday. If I deem it necessary, everything in the trust will be seized. You will have nothing if you don’t get your act together.”

“Is the company still part of the trust?” Your mind was trying to process everything Harrison and Tom had just laid out for you, but that was the one piece of information that stuck out like a sore thumb.

Harrison looked at Tom. Tom bit his lip.

“If the company is still listed in the trust, mate -”

“That means your father still has control over it-”

“He can just do whatever he wants, can’t he?” Tom fell to his knees, brushing off the agonizing pain in his bones as you came to him, your arms enveloping him completely.

Harrison felt a familiar sting in the corner of his eye as he walked over to his best friend and crouched down by his side.

“We’ve got you, mate.”

Once you were able to finally calm Tom down, you discussed in detail exactly what the plan was going to be. Even if it wasn’t what any of you wanted. 

Tom decided he would agree to Tokyo if, and only if, he was able to bring his two best assets - you and Harrison. He planned to go to the office early Monday morning to call Dom and see if he could convince him.

It was the best you could all come up with.

Sunday morning, you remembered you’d forgotten a stack of letters at the office, which you needed to sign so they could be mailed out first thing Monday morning. With Tom at a conference upstate, you ended up having to head into the office by yourself.

When the elevator bell rang at the top floor, you were surprised to see the lights were already on in the waiting area.

Who else is here?

Making a sharp left turn at the end of the hall, you decided to move as quickly as possible - the motion sensor lights only lasted 10 minutes, so whoever set them off was still in the office, somewhere.

You spotted the stack of letters on your desk, and working diligently, got them all put away nice and neat in your briefcase. 

A soft knock on your door nearly gave you a heart attack.

Dropping the case to the ground, you look up and lock eyes with the last person you ever expected to cross paths with.

“I hope you don’t have the company’s secrets tucked away in there, dear.”

Dom was looming in the doorway, his smile wavering as you just stared at one another.

Why the fuck was he there?

“I seem to have startled you, and I’m quite sorry about that - I honestly wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here on such a nice day,” He was a boulder blocking your path of escape, and your growing anxiety was making your skin crawl. 

“I don’t know- I don’t know how I got to be so distracted, but I forgot these- these, um-” You picked up the briefcase, dropping your gaze from Dom as you ran the palm of your hand over the soft leather. “I have to get these letters signed so they can be sent out first thing in the morning.”

“Signing letters? Seems like such a clerical task for a woman in your position,” He took a step forward, and you stepped back, your hip hitting the side of your desk.

“I uh, wouldn’t really say that-” Tripping over your words, Dom could see you were on edge.

“No? Then what exactly does my son have you work on here? When you’re not busy attending to his… other needs.”

You almost choked on your spit as you looked at Tom’s father in disbelief. Does he… know?

“You see, darling,” Dom took another step forward, and you found yourself pressed against the window, struggling to keep your balance. “As a father… well, parents are always fussing over their children, aren’t they? I’m worried about Tom, and I know you probably know him better than I, and, well. I need to ask a favor of you.”

The look on his face was something that would haunt you forever.

His index finger was tracing the photograph frame on your desk, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Without another word, he pulled out a folded up piece of paper, and held it out to you. Encouraging you with a nod of his head, you grabbed the sheet, and unfolded it, your eyes scanning over its entirety while an uncomfortable sense of nausea filled your stomach.

New York Police Department

34th District

Report

Scrawled in blue ink were the words that would leave anyone distressed. 

Sexual Harassment. 

tags - part one:

@cherrynat @anytimebitches  @jobean12-blog @emotchalla @enigma-xlii @illletitgrow @cloverrover @justaveryobsessedfangirl @ssweet-empowerment @killmongerdreams @spideytrxsh @eyestheyseeyou @aussie-mantle @spidergirlwanab @i-think-i-am-adorable @amanda51015-blog​ @princessskylarsblog​ @whoneedsalifeanyhowxx​ @chinalois​ @clairesrainbow @darkerthanspace​ @slighttinsomniac​ @curlytomholland​ @wanderlustomaha​ @hollandazing​ @mendes-marvel​ @wowspideyholland​ @joshuatparker​

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #313

“i’m your turbo lover  /  tell me there’s no other”

Where are you located at this moment? In my bed. What if you found out your ex was having a child with someone else? If it was Sara, I'm finding out who the fuck I'm flying up there to punch his face in. If it was Jason, I'd either faint or be in the bathroom vomiting. Or both. I can almost promise you at least one or the other while I have an absolute emotional breakdown. I'm not at the point in my recovery where I can hear that and be entirely okay. I'd be happy for any of the others. At what age do you think you'll be ready to have children? Never. When was the last time you couldn't stop laughing? Why? I don't recall. Which of your friends do your parents get along best with? I guess Girt, since he's known my mom the longest of the friends I still have. I don't know about Dad; he barely knows any of my friends seeing as I don't live with him and see him rarely. Is there anyone in your friendship group that your parents don't like? No. Can you recall the last time you were extremely disappointed? I surprisingly can't remember, even though I know it was recent. Who was the last person to un-friend you on Facebook? I don't know, it's not like I go hunting people down if I notice the number has dropped, lol. Do you know why he/she decided to un-friend you? I'm certain it would've been something political. Are there any food wrappings, boxes, containers etc. in your room? No. Do you know anyone who does have cancer? I don't think anyone who currently has it, no. I may know someone via association, but idk. What is the worst medicine you've ever taken? There are two that very strongly stand out: the first one was in middle school, and the second sometime last year. I was put on an antidepressant that made me absolutely love life in the morning, like I would practically prance through school, but come afternoon, I was a fucking demon. Mom took me off that shit so fast. Most recently, my birth control was changed to have more estrogen for some reason I can't recall (maybe it had to do with mood?? idk), and it made me... I'm just gonna say I was a ~mess~. I slammed on breaks with it so fuckin fast. Safe to say I returned to my normal pill. Has your house or where you stayed ever flooded? My childhood home came very close during Hurricane Floyd. Thankfully the water never got actually inside the house, but it was an absolute lake outside. What was the last event or special occasion you participated in? My niece's birthday was actually a couple days ago, so we celebrated at my sister's house. What do you find yourself reminiscing about the most? I'll give you one guess. Do you have a favorite pianist? No. Song you listened to last is...? I have "Turbo Lover" by Judas Priest on right now. What's the last type of cookie you ate? Uhhh I would assume chocolate chip. Do you have your own computer? I have my own laptop, and I'm possibly getting an actual computer come May?? One of my WoW friends knows the hell I've been through with this laptop, and she and her husband are getting new computers then, so she's basically pushed her husband's old one on me, lol. Apparently it works just fine, he just wants something better. I've told her again and again to make some money off of it, but she's pretty much giving me no choice lmao. I appreciate it a whole lot, though. It'd be pretty nice to separate games onto an actual, capable desktop versus making my laptop sound like it's screaming for God's mercy if I boot something up. Describe your computer chair? I don't have one. Well, there's an old one in the extra room I'm going to end up using, but all I know is it's black. I've never paid closer attention to it. Do you sleep with your door open or closed? Open. I feel too isolated with it closed. Are you going to keep your last name when you get married? God no, it's very unlikely. I hate my last name, take it away. Does it bother you when people beg? Why are they begging, and how insistently? It depends. Do you have any weird rings? I have two, but neither I consider weird, at least. Well, I suppose the one with "bitch" carved on the inside would confuse non-Supernatural fans, haha. Are you anything like your siblings? Not really, no. At least, my two immediate sisters. Mom says I'm extremely similar to her eldest daughter though and wishes we'd talk more, but yeah, I just don't have anything to talk about with her. I'm so bad at initiating conversation. When was the last time you shaved your legs? October for when I was doing that witchy photoshoot with a friend. I absolutely hate shaving my legs and pretty much only do if anyone else whose opinion would affect me may see them. What would be the best surprise you could receive right now? Uhhh I guess all the "upgrades" I want to make to Venus' enclosure: a 40g tank and a nice, accurate hygrometer and thermometer, as well as the proper kind of lamp for her. I feel like such a "bad snake mom" still having her in her current terrarium because, while it's perfectly liveable and not dangerous, it's too small for her. It's pretty much always on my mind to some degree nowadays, so just like, dropping the terrarium and extra tools off would be a massive weight off my shoulders. Did you ever skip a grade or get held back a grade? No, but I was able to skip the intro Writing course the last time I was in college; I just started in Writing II. Who took your profile pic? Anywhere where it's a picture of myself, odds are me. I hate getting pictures taken, but if it's gonna happen, it'll be through myself, knowing my "good" angle and such, lol. Have you ever been fishing? Do you know anyone who likes fishing as a hobby? I've been fishing many times, especially as a kid with my dad. There are pleeeenty of people I know who enjoy it. I don't anymore. Do you own any cats? What color are their eyes? Yes; his are a light blue. Is there a rose bush in your garden? What color are its roses? We don't have a garden. When was the last time you spent over $100 in one transaction? What did you buy? Over $100 with my own cash, a plane ticket. My recent tattoo deposit was exactly a hundred. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? Would you judge a grown adult for doing so? No; Roman would NEVER allow me to cuddle anything else, and I am not even remotely kidding. I couldn't care less if any adult does, though. Would you rather read an erotic novel or watch an erotic film? Ew, neither, but I guess a book would be better just so my eyes weren't forever scarred. What’s your favorite way to make your home smell good? Do you spend a lot of money on making this happen? INCENSE!!!! God, I love incense burners. I don't light it anymore though because Venus' terrarium is also in my room, and it's not good for snakes. What are the main two colors in the room you’re currently in? Did you pick these colors out yourself? Just... white. That's it. Well, my furniture is brown. I didn't pick either. How often do you wake up in the night needing to pee? Usually once, sometimes not at all anymore. I guess my bladder actually grew a pair. If you live in a household with pets, who is responsible for their care - both in terms of finance and the physical tasks involved? As far as the physical care, me. Mom does help me do a full clean of Venus' cage sometimes, though, because I don't trust myself to both keep her around my neck while I scrub the tank, hide, bowl, etc., with a cat that is my absolute shadow. I don't want to be bent over the tub and Roman tries to do something; he's shown very little interest in Venus, but still, I'm one hell of a paranoid snake mom that doesn't want to risk her life. Full cleans only happen like twice a year, so I don't mind too much asking my mother for some help. I should point out that Mom doesn't want to hold her, so we can't reverse roles. Do you have anything hanging from your ceiling apart from lights? Not anymore, no. At my old house and the one before, I had lots of Pyramid Head gift tags hanging, but our landlord doesn't want me to do that here. Would you describe yourself as neat, messy or somewhere in-between? I'm in-between. If you have pets, when was the last time one of them needed to go the vets? Venus had to go to the vet about a year into me having her because she was showing symptoms of an RI in strange breathing episodes, which can be fatal to a snake. Thank God, nature, whatever, that she didn't. There were warning signs, but closer watch over her humidity saved her. Roman, meanwhile, was taken to the vet like a year ago to be neutered. When the pandemic is over, what is one thing you can’t wait to do again? I barely ever left the house beforehand, so... I guess go to the movies. What’s one thing (aside from essentials) that you spend the most money on each month? Has anyone ever told you you’re obsessed or addicted with it? N/A What’s your favourite genre of TV show to watch? What’s your favourite show that’s not from that genre? If I had to pick, uhhh... yeah, idk, due to the whole "not into TV much to begin with" thing. Would you rather be employed or self-employed? Why? Self-employed, though taking care of all business matters yourself is/would suck. I just really want to be my own boss for the sake of photographing whatever I want. IIs your hair naturally curly, straight or somewhere in between? Do you wish it was different? It's straight, but on the wavy side, and I wish it wasn't. Do you ever play online games with your friends? Which one(s)? Just WoW. In the last week, have you had any alcoholic beverages? Which? No. Do you ever wear accessories in your hair? Which ones? No. Do you feel free to post your views on social media? Yep. I honestly don't care who it pisses off. What is your favorite work of historical fiction? Well, I don't really know what you consider truly "historical" in age... That, and I'm bad at dates to begin with. There are lots and lots of older books and movies I adore, though. Old Yeller is one of my favorite books ever, for one. The Boy In The Striped Pajamas makes me sob, too. What cartoon character looks like you? I remember when Hotel Transylvania came out, my ex's mob pointed out how much she thought I looked like the daughter, especially when my hair was dyed black. Do you have hope for the future? Some days I do, some days I don't. Do you believe in yourself? Ehhhh... debatable, idk. Do you have trouble letting go of your past? Oh yes. Were you happy in high school? It's funny, I was very depressed in HS, but due to Jason and friends, it's one of my most cherished time periods. Were you ever a teacher's favorite? I mean it modestly, but I was almost always pretty obviously one of the teachers' favorites. I was a good student. Are you popular? I wasn't. If you won a title in the senior class polls, what was it? I didn't. Have you ever had a medical condition that made you unable to work? My social anxiety is so debilitating that it's made it questionable. It ruined my very short-lived previous jobs. What makes your life worth living? My future goals, family, friends... What is your favorite Bible verse? I don't have one. List five careers you've considered. Paleontologist, vet, game designer, author, and wildlife biologist are all past ones. Do you have any unusual talents? If so, what? No. What do you get compliments on? My hair and my art, mostly. What have people told you you should be? I've heard "a vet" most in my life. What is holding you back? My (mostly social) anxiety and extreme fear of judgment. Do you have anyone purely evil in your life? Hell no, I wouldn't allow that person to stay in my life. Have you ever felt threatened for your life? I've felt scared for it, yes. While riding my bike once, I ran into a guy in my old neighborhood who had a criminal history, including assault, just asking what I was listening to on my iPod. I stopped because I was scared to keep going, and he wound up asking for my Facebook, but guess who didn't accept THAT friend request. List ten positive words that describe you. That's too much thinking, man. List ten negative words that [you feel] describe you. And that's too much negativity to fish in. Are you a good person or a bad person? I mean, I try to be a good one. Have you ever contemplated being a bad person? I've done bad things, but I've certainly never deliberated tried to be an overall bad person. Have you ever resorted to vandalism because you didn't have a voice? No. Have you ever egged someone's house? Wow, no. Do you want to egg someone's house? Also no because I'm a fucking adult. Have you ever seen a piece of graffiti that you are thankful for? What an odd question. I mean, no? Name three people who hurt you and didn't care. I am quite positive Colleen doesn't care about the many times she did considering she's always right. Was your first crush sexual, or no? No, I was just a kid. What would you do if you got pregnant right now? I honestly can't say I know. If I was God forbid raped, I'd probably have an abortion because I psychologically could not handle that without being scarred for life. If it was by my own stupidity, I feel I'd probably have the baby but give it up for adoption. I just can't raise a kid. Do you have a medical condition that you are embarrassed or ashamed to tell people you have? No, I don't think so. What do you get asked the most? Hm. OH, WAIT, THAT'S EASY. I get asked a lot if my lip piercing hurt. Have you ever stood up for someone else who was being bullied? I know I have before, but I don't remember the occasion. What tragic news stories that you've heard has touched you the most? Man, that's a lot to think about. You see news articles on Facebook all the time, and a whole lot of them touch me, so I dunno. What is your favorite thing to order at Taco Bell? I like the cheese quesadillas, and whatever those cinnamon bites are called are really good. I'm still tilted they got rid of the fiesta potatoes, because I adored those. Where do you have cutting scars (if you have any)? I only ever had them on my wrist, but you can't see them anymore. Do you like cotton candy? Not very, but I mean, I can have a bite or two. It's way too sweet to eat a lot of it. What's the best piece of graffiti you've ever seen? I'm unsure, but I've definitely seen beautiful work, especially online. Do you like tattoos? "Like" is a colossal understatement. Do you like piercings? Yep yep yep. Have you ever made someone so mad that they broke something? No. Those are not people I hang around with. Who is the last person you slow-danced with? Slow-danced? I don't think I've done that since Jason.

[wanderingcas]

@trenchcoatandfreckles prompt: “bucolic” or “bungalow” in other words: cas moves to the idyllic countryside and meets dean winchester, who owns a garden shop down the road. destiel. 1.7k. fluff. undercurrent of a quiet desperation to escape one’s life.

“So, where you gonna go?” asks Cas’ nosy, but well-meaning, landlord, holding out his hand.  

Cas drops the keys into his open palm. “Somewhere bucolic,” he replies.

Frank wrinkles his nose. “What is that, some kind of sickness?”

Cas picks up the remaining box off the floor, rendering the tiny apartment officially empty. “Sure,” he sighs.

“Well, good luck,” Frank says, wiping his hand on his jeans. “You were one of my best tennants. Hope the next tenant is as dead quiet as you. It was like a tomb in here the whole ten years you were renting, you know.”

“Well. Thank you. I think.” After a tentative handshake with Frank, Cas sees himself and his box of records out.

Two weeks ago, it seemed like a good idea. He was on his stiff couch, wine glass in hand, browsing available bungalows to rent in a rural part of New York that he’d never heard of before. His eyes scanned an available cottage: the honey wood floors, the tucked-in ceilings, the herbs dangling from the kitchen ceiling, sunlight streaming. He looked around his sterile, hyper-modernized studio apartment and there was no contest.

He sent an application for an available house to rent in the same breath that he sent a move-out notice to Frank.

The commute to his current job, of course, would be an hour’s train ride, compounded with the fifteen minute drive to the station. His sister Anna called him last week to inform him that he was possibly having a mid-life crisis.

Now with his apartment all boxed up, and sitting on a train with his box of records and the moving truck a day in front of him, Castiel is beginning to agree with her.

The bungalow Cas rented is nestled between two cherry blossom trees. He feels like he’s read about it in a book somewhere. There’s a daily farmer’s market a mile away, with another empty and unrented bungalow in between. Apart from that, he’s alone but for the birds and fields and sunshine.

He loves the isolation more than he should. He calls in sick to work the first week. Then the next. It morphs into him writing a truncated email to his boss announcing his resignation. He deactivates his email after that.

There’s enough in his savings to get him by, he assures a hysterical Anna over the phone after he breaks the news, and he’ll find a job closer to where he lives. (He again refuses to tell Anna his new address, knowing it’ll only end up in her showing up with a small army to drag him back to the city)

With his self-imposed free time, he starts a garden. The lofty dreams of cooking with fresh herbs and vegetables fill his mind for days, until he’s greeted morning after morning by empty soil with no sprouting green.

He gives up after a week. Googling nearby garden shops points him to the only one within a forty-mile radius: Winchester Hardware & Garden. He rides his bike a couple of miles down the dirt road, past the farmer’s market, to the small, unassuming green building that’s only slightly bigger than his own bungalow.

A bell obnoxiously announces his arrival as he pushes open the rusty screen door. He’s greeted with shelves upon shelves of sloppily organized garden supplies, seed packages, and planters. There’s a counter tucked into the corner with a cash register valiantly craning its neck up from the cluttered mess that surrounds it.

“Just a second!” calls a voice from somewhere amongst the shelves. There’s a crash that follows.

Castiel cranes his neck around one of the shelves, looking for the source of the commotion. “Do you need help?” he calls back.

“Nope, should be good,” assures the disembodied voice, “just this goddamn—” There’s no elaboration as another, louder, crash punctuates the end of the sentence.

Castiel stands awkwardly in the door frame, unsure of whether to help or flee a potential crime scene, when a tanned and dirty-blonde man rounds the corner. He’s clutching something white and pissed off in his arms.

“Sorry about that,” the man says, breathing heavily. He locks his arms tighter against the cat struggling in his arms. “Can I help you with something?”

Castiel stares at the cat. “Was that what all that banging was?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” The man playfully jostles the cat, eliciting a low meow. “She gets into the back of the shelves where all those dangerous tools are, and I have to make sure she doesn’t cut her own head off.”

Castiel doesn’t point out the issue of housing a cat in a store with dangerous tools in the first place. Instead: “I see.”

“Her name’s Fluffy,” the man offers.

“But she has no fur,” Castiel says as Fluffy proudly swishes her naked tail.

“Yeah. It’s hilarious.” The man grins. “My brother picked her up from the side of the road. Kid has a bleeding heart for helpless animals.” Fluffy is deposited on the counter, where she sits and glares; the man turns and crosses his arms. “So, anything you need?”

Castiel rips his gaze from the man’s very piercing, very green eyes. “Yes. I’m having a problem with my garden. I think it needs fertilizer.”

“Elaborate on your problem,” the man says.

“Well, nothing’s growing,” Castiel explains, trailing off uncertainly as the man once again disappears around a corner.

“Any pets?” he asks.

“Excuse me?”

“Any pets,” the man says impatiently behind a shelf, “any pets that would get into your garden and eat stuff when you’re not looking.”

“Well… no. No pets. Although I was thinking of getting a cat.” Castiel glances at Fluffy, who is grooming a naked paw. “One with fur.”

The man barks out a laugh. He comes around the corner, holding a large box propped on his hip. “And you’ve been watering them? Pulling any weeds around them?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re sure that you’re not pulling the plants accidentally instead of the weeds?”

Castiel fixes the man a look. “I’m not that stupid.”

Raising a hand in surrender, the man says, “Hey, you’d be surprised the stories I get from other customers.” He deposits the box onto the counter. “Well, this should help—good old fashioned plant food. Works for most things you’re trying to grow.”

After doing a quick calculation of measurements in his head, Castiel decides, “I don’t think I’ll be able to take that today. I rode my bike here and I’m not sure I can fit the box anywhere…”

“Relax, the bags are inside.” The man pulls apart the box’s top and hoists out a much smaller bag, one that will undoubtedly fit into Castiel’s backpack. At Castiel’s confirming nod, the man rounds the corner and types a number into the ancient cash register. ‘Fluffy’ rubs against his hand, slowly the process. The register inexplicably dings. “It’ll be 25.50,” he announces.

Castiel fishes his wallet from his back pocket. “Do you take a credit card?”

“Yeah.” The man chews at the bottom of his lip, frowning down at Castiel’s fingers that are fumbling to get the credit card out of the tight wallet’s pockets. “You said you biked here?”

“Yes,” Castiel says amidst the struggle, “why?”

“Nah, just that… you can’t live very far from here, then?”

The credit card finally emancipated, Castiel hands it across the counter. He notes the dirt caked underneath the man’s fingernails as their hands brush. “I just began renting a house a few miles down the road. Just a week ago.”

The man grins. “You’re one of Benny’s tenants?”

“I think that was his name.”

“I know him. Nice guy. Runs a diner when he’s not landlording way too many properties.” The man slides the credit card through a small attachment on his phone, frowning again in a thoughtful way. “This might not work, you know.”

“The credit card?” Castiel asks.

“No, the plant food. This whole area used to be a swamp—so the soil sucks.” He pets Fluffy’s head distractedly. “So you might have to come back anyway.”

“I did notice that the soil was sandy,” Castiel agrees. “Should I… Buy anything else in lieu of this?”

The man rubs the back of his neck; Castiel is momentarily distracted by the way his fingers leave imperceptible tracks in his tightly trimmed blonde hair. “Well, if this doesn’t work, I’d have the examine the soil. See if the acidity is right, if the plants are getting enough sun, that kind of thing.”

“So you’d have to come over?” Castiel asks, taking the card that the man hands back to him.

“Well, yeah.” The man clears his throat. “To examine it, and everything.”

“That wouldn’t be too much trouble?”

The man sweeps his arm in the air to gesture to the quiet shop. “Well, I suppose you would be taking me away from my customers that so obviously need me.”

Castiel huffs a laugh. He tentatively holds the bag of plant food in his arms. “Then I’ll come back and ask for your help if this doesn’t work.”

They smile at each other, a beat too long, a beat too delayed to notice a shift in the energy between them. “Who should I ask for?” Castiel is somehow able to miraculously ask, after the moment that is a beat too long.

“Huh? Oh. Dean. Ask for Dean. That’s me, I—” The man, Dean, shakes his head as if to get himself to stop talking. He reaches out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, uh—”

“Castiel. Cas.” Castiel holds Dean’s hand and shakes. It’s warm and softer than he’d expect a gardener’s hands to be.

“Well, great. Cas.” Dean drawls Castiel’s name out thoughtfully, carefully, like tasting a fine wine. Castiel suppresses a shiver. “I’ll see you again soon, then. Maybe.”

“Maybe.” Castiel adjusts the bag in his arms. “Goodbye, Dean. Fluffy,” he adds, nodding at the cat who is ignoring the situation, and instead is stretching to great lengths in order to lick her backside.

Castiel steps out into the warm air; the bell on the door that announces his departure is less obnoxious now. He unlocks his bike, adjusting the kickstand, wincing at the creak of the rust on the metal.  

Placing his backpack carefully onto the bike seat, he opens the zipper and deposits the bag of plant food into the backpack. Very sternly, he whispers to it, “Don’t you dare work,” before zipping up his pack, and riding on the dirt road back to his new home.

↳ prompts are open for mowripro, send one to my askbox.

[apickledbitch]

so my previous landlord said he was gonna give us our deposits back within 7-14 days, but ~suddenly~ the carpets need shampooed and vacuumed, and I believe he's gonna try to use our deposit to do that. which, I read, basic wear and tear, unless its destroyed (which we didn't!), is up to the landlord to clean. AND they can't use the tenants deposit to do so. this guy, I swear... he's probably the worst landlord I've had yet, and I personally know him! he's supposed to be a Christian, and he has repeatedly tried to manipulate three 23 year old women who were renting from him! first, he tried to kick us out a month early so he could sell his condo, and when we called him out on it and said we weren't gonna pay the last month if we weren't there, he ~changed his mind~, and now he's trying to delay giving us our deposit back by a MONTH from what he had originally told us, until he can ~randomly~ find something to use it for. I'm so fucking sick of this guy 🤦‍♀️ OH, and starting out, before we moved in, we met with him and his wife to talk over renting, and he initially was going to let us move in without a contract! I spoke up and said that we should probably make one, and he looked at me like I was crazy or some shit. like, had we not had a contract, and he manipulated us like he did, we would've been soooo fucked

[dzpenumbra]

9/14/22

The apartment is mine. At least pending a background check and I have no criminal record so... I should be all good. The process has been fuckin weird though. They wanted a deposit up-front before processing my application. I mentioned that yesterday. It feels sketchy. But... I mean... more than that... it feels indicative of a really bad time in history. I mean... we're in a housing crisis, right? And we have been for well over a year. And this woman was kinda acting as though the absolute only thing that mattered was money. And like I needed to provide her some kind of security that I wasn't just gonna skip out and go rent another place. Bro, there aren't any other fucking places, isn't it glaringly obvious? It was just really weird to me, still is. Like... what is the message I'm supposed to get from "we need a 2k deposit before we even look at your application"? I honestly don't know what message I'm supposed to be interpreting here. The best guess I have is "if you act now, you can guarantee this apartment." But... like... how do they know they want me there?

The whole process has been very impersonal and distant. I don't like it at all. I haven't liked any bit of this. I put in a ton of effort to be very deliberate about how I was going to apply, what information I was going to share and how. I still haven't spoken to this woman. The whole thing has just been frantic and completely controlled by this landlord's demands. It's felt very... well I said this morning that it felt like what I imagine applying for a job in Silicon Valley would be like. Very cold, impersonal, all over-inflated lies on paper, people giving prepared responses and code-phrases, spewing out buzzwords and shit. All I wanted this whole fuckin time was to sit down and have a chat with whoever was going to be deciding to give me a roof over my head and make a first impression. Now, I just have a place to live. It's weird. It feels like I just got a dorm on a college campus or something.

Welp, guess that's just what living in an apartment building is gonna be like. Guess I've been living in a small town for too long, it's been over 10 years. Maybe I just forgot that we're all doing this "I don't have to know you, you don't have to know me" thing. As though it's advantageous to not know me. Whatever, I don't wanna dwell on it, we'll see how it plays out. That's just the note my day started on.

My brother reached out to me to touch base about a project I gave him. He's a super talented musician. I asked him to make a ton of streaming music for me, a playlist of good atmospheric background stuff I can put on loop. He got back to me, apparently he made some. I haven't listened to it yet. Because I asked him if he wanted to talk about the plan going forward and what the next steps were and he blew me off until "maybe tomorrow" because he "had a lot of reading to do". ... Yeah. And only other friend blew me off on setting up the Minecraft server and went to spend the night at his girlfriend's house, because obviously that means he can't like... do ANYTHING AT ALL with me. It's weird how people act in those relationships sometimes. I don't know. I'm holding back, I don't want to engage with this frustration. I'm mostly pissed here because I just overcame a life-crippling obstacle today and I kinda wanted to celebrate a bit, but instead I was blown off by literally everyone I know. So, that sucks. At least my Mom was willing to chat and send some good vibes. She even offered to get me takeout, but I didn't wanna put her out driving in the rain.

I don't know, man. I really think I just need people in my life who want to share their life with me, and share my life as well. All this keeping me at arms length shit that so many people do, it's fucking with my head. I'm pretty sure it already has.

I am afraid of intimacy because I have basically never had it. I have in fleeting moments, and moments of illusion, but it has been unfathomably rare in my life. It is pretty much my entire life goal, too. I've been thinking about that a bunch, which seems like a good thing to do just... in general... I just haven't really spent much time on the future, I've always figured it's gonna just happen anyway, why bother trying to control it? But that hasn't worked out great for me, so I'm gonna try to compromise a bit. I really feel like the whole point of life is to learn. To live, obviously, because... you know... you're alive. To try to seek a fulfilling life-experience, pursuing passions, feeling life to its fullest. To learn as much as you can. To pass that learning on, and exchange it with others. To share life with others, share yourself with others.

Like we're all just sensory organs for the collective human race. Who is an extension of the animal kingdom. Which is an extension of Life itself. We're just walking lumps of sensory equipment - cameras, microphones, kinetic sensors, whatever the fuck taste buds are and however the fuck your nose works, damn I didn't realize I didn't know how smell works, I should probably learn that. We gather information, we interpret our environments and our experiences. We process that information and store it as memory, we collect, and stitch a narrative and framework of world understanding. And we share this information, this narrative, this framework, every time we interact with others. This is a contribution to the language of Life itself. The information then spreads and mixes, much in the same way as a viral video or a meme. It saturates and becomes part of culture, which is the impact you have on the world, on history. Your impact, your contribution, is only worth what you put into it, and what you can put into it. In order for one to contribute to society beyond just one degree, 1). they must try 2). they must be received 3). that information must be spread.

I am not a hermit by choice. I simply avoid social gatherings. I have consistently welcomed individuals into my life over the past several years, very openly and very eagerly. My door is always unlocked, quite literally. I have offered a room in my house to several people. I just keep getting rejected. Like... I shit you not... I had a fight with a friend that I used to live in Boston with because we weren't really talking very often and I bashfully and anxiously requested that he check in a little more often because I was getting a bit stir-crazy. This was the pandemic of course, lockdown, and I live alone and wasn't talking to... anyone at the time really. He fought with me over it, he ended the friendship over it. I have talked to him once since when he came to get his shit that I stored for him for free in my spare room. I did not choose that outcome, in fact, I was reaching out to connect even more, to connect as much as I could, and it ended up severing the only social contact I had.

My only social problem recently has been that I am just not present on social media... and I really suck at just going to random social places in person by myself. I always have. If I'm going to the skatepark or something, I could maybe make it work, but... I don't know, it just really puts me off, has for like over 10 years. I wish I could define it better. I guess I just feel really sad with it. I don't like being in a place dedicated to social interaction and just sitting there by myself. People never approach me, it never goes the way people hint it's going to. Like I always got the advice "go to the bookstore coffee shop and just sit there and draw for a while". You know what happens? I listen to shitty castrated jazz. I drink super-overpriced coffee. I eat decent food. I draw by myself for an hour and a half. People give me a wide berth. I pack up and leave. Every time. I can just do that shit at home and listen to my own damn music. The whole point of going was for it to be social, and no one ever approaches, so why bother? I gave up on that shit super quick. Skatepark is a bit different, but it's mostly kids honestly. There's basically no one my age, and if there is they tend to be worlds better than I am at skating. It's rarely an in-depth conversation, usually small-talk.

But if I go to a social location with a friend? That's when shit pops off. That's when people start socializing. If I have someone to riff off of, it works pretty damn effectively.

This was actually a pretty defining moment when I really noticed that my ex was not the right person for me - even though I didn't know it at the time at all. Took me years to really process it. I had just gotten back from a friend's wedding, which she did not go with me to... which is still weird since I offered to pay and everything, but there was some side-action way back that was a bit sketchy so... who knows exactly what was going on there... I digress... Not a place my 4:30 AM brain needs to go today. I wanted to get back to living life. I was just sick and on meds all the time and a complete wreck. She was just frantically working all the time. I had us go on a date to the closest major mall that had IMAX. We were going to see The Last Jedi, because I'm a big Star Wars fan and I got her into the series too. That should give a timeframe around when this was. I remember walking through the mall with her and sorta strutting around and being goofy. It had been years since I had done that, I missed it, I was finally reconnecting with it. We went up to the ticket counter and I asked for tickets, but I very intentionally put my inflection emphasis on the wrong word. I asked for two tickets for The Last Jedi. It's a subtle joke, not even really a joke, more just... something out of place. It shakes things up a bit, puts the other person on their toes, disorients them, which is a good way to get a giggle while making a little bit of an ass of yourself. My ex immediately brought full attention to the joke, started giggling and diffusing the situation basically. That moment right there, that reaction right there. That was really helpful in me learning what I really need in my life. I need someone who will go with the bit. I need someone who will say "yes, and". And who is beaming with excitement to do that. That will change my life.

I just kinda need that in my life all around, in any form. I need synergy. I need harmony. And resonance. Long periods of extreme isolation get you to a place where it seems like it's a myth. Or an extremely endangered species. This is to the point where I doubt I ever really had it at any point, and end up doubting that it exists, and then not bothering to waste the energy trying to hunt down Sasquatch.

But I need it. It's the key piece in bringing my life's purpose together, and the one piece I can't create myself. So I just need to reacquaint myself with venues of social interaction nowadays. My Discord is dead, I type on here every night, I sometimes read Reddit but have no friends there, my Twitch has 2 chatters unless one is streaming, the Twitch rooms I visit are too big to meet people in. So... I just don't have a place to meet anyone. I'm open to suggestions if anyone reading this that somehow got this far down wants to put out there, if they've ever had any luck. I'm sure I've asked before. I'll get back on the dating apps when I move. Oh yeah, the move date is gonna be mid-November, so that's good news. I've got some time to get my shit packed and say my goodbyes to the area.

Alright, meandering train of thought has come to a halt for a bit, it's as good a time as any to head to sleep. Here's my first real bit of celebration for my new home. YAY! Okay, I'll try to get someone else to give a shit about this tomorrow. Goodnight, moon.

[asklynden]

My dad is abusing me part 4

I can’t hardly believe what’s happened in recent events. My dad phoned me, so naturally I pretended to not be here and did not asnwer. He then sent me a txt message asking me to come over so I could sort out my suit. A suit for what? He’d decided I was going to his wedding as an usher. Didn’t even ask first. And he knows I have speaking problems so, an usher? Is he senile already??

Anyway I told him no, I told my sister too who was nosey enough to ask. I told me sis I couldnt go because I am an alcoholic. I’m not, but it felt like a good reason. I couldnt do that with my dad, giving him something to lecture me about? No thanks. So I just said I’d considered it and it wouldn’t work out.

Then my youngest bro who lives with my dad begins chatting with me. We talk and he’s doing well. The wedding comes up and we talk about it. I eventually bring up some issues I have, like how my partner is never invited, which kinda seems like there’s some prejudice going on. Apparantly my dad is just dum and thought my partner was just “a friend”. It doesn’t help that it’s not easy to explain my relationship with them. But we’re family without a doubt, and I love the heck out of them. But that’s enough about that, this post is meant to be about bad people, so back to my dad...

He started to seem less bad, and more stupid as things went along. Eventually the main topic came up. My dad owes me £3000. He’s got spending problems, so even though he has a very good job, he never has any money. I am the opposite of him in so many ways. I’d get money in a card from my grandparents to spend on what I want for my birthday and such. I never spent that money. I saved it. I was a very boring child. I then got a job at an Amazon warehouse. And yes it’s as bad as the rumors say. But not the first week. That first week they make it so easy that it’s actually fun. Then they make it harder and harder until it’s not doable anymore... Yeah you can just look up other people’s stories on that. It was hell. And deserves it’s own post. My dad is only relevant to the day I got fired.

That story, to keep it short went like this: I called in sick, because, I was sick. At about noon I got up out of bed to have something to eat and drink, and felt a bit better. My dad sees me and forces me into the car and drives me to my workplace. I don’t have a choice. I get in and walk right into my boss. I have never forgotten the look he gave me. “So you think you can just come and go when you want do you?” he asked me. What kind of person calls in sick and then shows up late instead? It looked to him like I just didn’t want to go in so early. It was because of that moment that my scanner never got upgraded like everyone elses did. I was told not to worry about the extra training session. I didn’t realise how clear it was at the time that this was the moment they decided to fire me. They gave me only a week after that day i think to keep working, all the while talking bad about my performance and how I needed to improve or else.

Sorry for that detour, but my dad got me fired from that job. And he’s never once helped me get a job before or since. But I had earned myself a nice amount of cash over these years. I earned a nice sum. My dad had many moments where he struggled. But I knew he was a bad spending since he bankrupt us back when he was living with my mum. It was cars that did it.

I don’t think he ever asked me for money. Instead it was just an “I’m sorry”. Naturally I said “I can lend you some money”. I don’t know if i fell for the bait, or if he really didn’t expect this. But I lent him money, and he promised he would pay me back. He was very grateful and aksed that I not tell anyone about this, since he’d feel so ashamed to have to borrow from his son. So, I kept it secret.

As time went on more things happened. His car had troubles and needed to be fixed, so I lent more. He couldnt pay the phone bill, so I lent more. He needed eggs for dinner, so I went out and paid for them. With the food I was always the one he sent to go buy it, and I’d often pay for it too, but he was meant to pay me back whatever it ended up being afterwords. I wrote this amount down, and I didn’t mind if a few were forgotten or he didn’t have the money at the time. I just kept the recipt for next time. These began to build up really badly. And before I knew it, he owed me over £3000. He never paid any of it back. Not until I moved out and tried to get him to.

So after I did leave, something I got no help with from him, because... Well I did it in secret. I saw a chance to get away from him and took it. Thank GOD I did. I was deeply depressed and my dad was against me taking anti-depressants. I was already on some, but had been calling them sleeping tablets to stop him from getting angry. Technically, they do make you drowsy, so it wasn’t quite a lie. But they did nothing for my depression. Which was at it’s breaking point. I moved out to a place only 10 minutes drive away. I regret being so scared to move further away. But this was my first time on my own. And I’ve got a few difficulties too that made it scarier.

During this time I struggled with rent far worse than i imagined. I asked my dad to help and he’d pull out £20 or one time £80 to help. I got whatever was in his pocket. And then one month he says “Don’t ask me for anymore money, not until October. I have it already all tied up in other things, sorry.” and so I stopped asked. October came, which was 4 months or more from then. And I forgot totally at this point to bring it up again. And so for another year I didn’t ask. And then another year. And in all that time he never once offered to pay me back. Never since this payment began growing did he ever offer to pay me back. He did offer to take me on holiday and said I could go for free, but, he’d not owe me anything anymore. It was a tempting deal, but I didn’t really like France that much. I said no.

Time went on and I heard abotu him going on holiday more and more, and buying new things, more cars. He had money to spare afterall, but still offered me nothing. Eventually our landlord decided to raise our rent by £100 a month. We were already overpaying for that crappy little place, and it wasn’t a case of “should we?” but “can we?”. And we could not. Oh “we” by the way is my roomate. The “partner” I mentioned earlier. So we had to move, and found a place 2/3 the cost and 3/2 the size much further away. It was a fantastic deal and we moved in.

My dad helped us move, by costing us around £1000. Because he did things cheaply, and told us to do things we werent allowed to do and got us fined. That needs it’s own post too. The damage he cause us is not something I added to the amount he owes though. I chose to just, not bring up that day at all.

So in our new place, doing well. Months of joy, when finally our old landlord tells us he’s not giving us our deposit back, but he also wants MORE money for damages. I didn’t even know this was legal to do. He took the deposit, and then a second amount the same. My mum had to come in and haggle for us because we were pretty much in tears over this. She saved us, and paid a lot of it for me. She expected my dad to do the same and save me, because this shock cost came out of nowhere and we were not ready. I dont have the amount on hand, but I recall I had to pay £800 myself, my mum paying more than that. £1500? £2000?

Anyway I ask my dad. Not to pay back what he owes, but to save me from seriously legal troubles. He did not help.

Over the next YEAR I was able to pay my mum back all that I owed her for bailing me out. And now I’m back on my feet, and could survive a shock payment if one somehow appeared. But I think I’m safe from that happening again. I hadn’t even thought about the money my dad owes me for ages now.

But this wedding, and talking to my little bro (yes finally back to the original topic) it came up. And my bro was like “Oh well I can talk to him and get that sorted. I was chuffed and said I’d go to the wedding. My dad is honestly fun to be around when it comes to parties. Well, as long as he’s not sober to be more precise. He was sober at one party, and was a huge killjoy. But it’s his wedding, he’s not gonna be a downer there! I was getting excited to see my whole family there, and have a great time and-

“Oh hey, your dad says he doesnt owe you that anymore.” What? Yeah what I got was a big load of messages from my bro telling me my dad didn’t think he owed me anymore because of things he’d done for me previously. Like some early holidays we went on. He also claimed to have “helped with rent” which was a very confusing thing to read. As if he was doing it periodically instead of the 3 times he did it.

Sadly this got me into venting a bit at how unreasonable it all was. I lost my cool. But I dont regret what i said. I imagined he’d go back and tell my dad and it’d get straightened out. I explained he did not help with rent nor did I owe him for any holidays, since the one time he asked me to pay, I declined.

I get a reply, my bro calls me entitled. Says so what if I paid for food and phone I used that stuff so I should pay for it. I’m in disbelief. He’s my dad, he provides for me. Besides you don’t tell someone afterwords “Oh you have to pay for those years of me helping you out”. That’s what pimps do. Other people probably do that too but I only saw it with pimps in the shows I watch.

So more ranting back that this was nuts, and that I just want my money back. I also lay into my dad’s spending habits, how he always has cash to burn, but never any for me. Fuck sake this wedding he’s having is costing him a hell of a lot more than £3000! Sadly this stuff I tell him is what he focuses on, saying my dad isn’t a bad spender cause he always buys cheap... yeah don’t I know it. Every birthday and Christmas I get a foreign or second hand phone or computer that breaks not long after. He’s a computer.. something. He gets this stuff dirt cheap thanks to his job. I couldnt really argue againt my bro there, but no way is that a positive.

But in al lthis arguing, it’s clear that my little bro has some bizarre ideas in his head if he thinks you can wave away owed money by being nice enough to someone. And he thinks me living with my dad is him being nice. But uh, that’s called being a parent, and it’s require by law. I wasn’t some friend staying there, I wasn’t a roomate. I was living in my dad’s house as his son. Jesus my lil bro is meant to be smart but what a fucking... Oh. He’s paying rent and food costs and all sorts. My dad’s gotten him paying for everything. He actually thinks this is normal. There is no low my dad wont sink to.

I can’t be mad at my bro, but it’s clear now that my dad plans on not paying me back. That’s theft. So, what should I do? I don’t want revenge, I don’t want to cost him anything, and I don’t want to take this to court because I know that could cost me. I’ll give it more time. But I hope he looks at my empty chair whilst he’s getting married and knows this is his fault I’m not there.

[arabellaflynn]

One of the more amusing family stories I sometimes tell is about a relative of mine, a few generations back, who moved in with another man after his wife died. Ooh, everybody goes. Salacious family gossip! Except the little town they moved to was actually Lily Dale Assembly, in upstate New York, which so far as I know is still one of the oldest continually running Spiritualist communes in the United States. Harry and Edward moved up there so that Edward, ex-model and former elder in the Presbyterian church, could start on what I think was his third career as a spirit medium. He channeled the spirit of an Edwardian actress named Lillie Langtry, also known as "the Jersey Rose". At this point, the whole 'shacked up with his boyfriend' thing has become the least interesting part of the story, and people begin to look at me funny. My parents fucked things up in many respects, several of them so egregious that I haven't spoken to them in years, but I want to give credit where credit is due. They never sat us down to have a talk about how some boys like boys and some girls like girls, and they were all people just like anyone else. It was stupidly obvious. My mother talked about "Harry and Edward" in the same tone she used for "Aunt Helen and Uncle Bob". Except friendlier, as Uncle Bob was known to be a lecher who eyeballed the teenage cousins, and we mysteriously saw a lot less of him after I was about twelve. I was probably in college -- so, old enough for my own friends to start coming out -- before I thought about it long enough to realize how unusual this was. There are a lot of families where I never would have heard about Harry, because they would have disavowed any knowledge of his existence as soon as they found out about his "friend". Tracing LGBT+ relatives can be tricky. They tend to lack a lot of paperwork that straight couples would have. Not just legit marriage certificates -- which don't always exist -- but a lot of other records that are predicated on the assumption that there is a marriage certificate, somewhere. Fifty years ago, John Doe and Roberta Roe could move halfway across the country together and apply for an apartment as "Mr. and Mrs. John Doe", and nobody would ever check. The only way to get that information, pre-internet, was to find out where the marriage would have been officiated, write to the appropriate county clerk (with a processing fee enclosed), and wait 4-6 weeks to see if you got an illegible photocopy or a 'no such file exists' form letter back. No landlord was going to do that. They'd look at you, make a snap judgement on whether you were likely to grow forty tons of weed in their rental property, and ask if you had first, last, and deposit. After you have a lease as "John and Roberta Doe", you can start getting utility bills, phone lines, library cards, checking accounts, even state IDs, depending on where (and when) you were. My own parents are a good example of how this works. My mother used her maiden name right up until she was lying in a hospital bed with a newborn (me), and the nuns filing the paperwork were confused by the concept of putting a different surname down for mother and child. My mother, who was understandably short on patience, finally relented and told them to use Dad's name for everybody. (In her words, "I was afraid they were gonna lose you.") They weren't legally married until I was three, and they only did it because we had moved from Little Canada to a state that even today spits in the face of social progress, and Dad's new health insurance wouldn't otherwise have covered anybody else. Mind you, my college FAFSA papers said they'd been filing taxes as married since 1978. My mother was never one to let a little thing like federal tax law prevent her from doing as she damn well pleased. In Harry and Edward's case, we do have some documentation: Harry wrote memoirs. My mother had a copy, and I've read it. They're mostly about the spirit medium stuff, but there's a fair bit about life as well, and they were hilariously domestic. You would have to engage in mental gymnastics of a phenomenal order to read the two of them as anything but a couple. I seem to recall Harry's daughter either writing to or visiting them in Lily Dale; according to the family, she was mainly just happy her father had settled down with someone who could cook, so he'd stop living on scrambled eggs and spaghetti. I've had no luck so far finding a copy of my own. Partly because it was privately published by someone who evidently went out of business 30+ years ago, but mostly because I didn't have any full names for anybody. The family has only ever referred to Harry as "Uncle Doc Harry". He wasn't a doctor of anything, but he did have an MSW, and for that time and that branch of the family, that was a pretty high-falutin' education. I'm still not sure if he was my great-uncle or my great-great-uncle. My grandfather was from a gigantic Irish Catholic farm family, where there were so many kids with such a range of ages that the eldest grandkids used to babysit their youngest aunts and uncles. It was without a great deal of hope that I prodded the Lily Dale Assembly at about 2 am one night, via their Facebook page. Yes, they have a Facebook page. Of course they have a Facebook page. Another thing you have to consider when nosing around after your queer kin is how to frame it. Somewhere conservative, I probably would have inquired after Harry, mentioning at some point that he used to share a house with someone named Edward. The Assembly, though? The Spiritualists are justifiably proud of their history of being early adopters of things like women's suffrage, feminism, and universal civil rights. They attract a lot of weirdos because they treat the weirdos like valid human beings. I was asking after people who would still be in the living memory of older residents, and a town like Lily Dale would have remembered them as the boring middle-aged married couple. So I just asked about my relatives, plural, Harry and Edward, and mentioned the ghost actress, figuring it would have been pretty unique even for a place like that. I expected to get a teenage intern, who had no idea what I was talking about, but could at least give me some way to get in contact with the town registrar or whatever a Spiritualist commune has. No. Oh, no. Whoever was answering their messages knew exactly who I was talking about, because they used to live across the street. Not only told me where the two of them went, but described the house they bought when they moved out of town in the early '90s. What the actual fuck. Thus armed with useful things like surnames, I went off to Google some more. I still haven't had any luck finding the book; when I first read it, online shopping was already a thing, and I found it eerie as hell to be physically holding a book that had no listing on Amazon. It has an AISN now, as someone evidently sold a signed copy on Amazon once, but no ISBN, and therefore no WorldCat entry. If it exists in any library I can get to, I'm not sure I have any way to ask for it. I can't find their obituaries, either -- my guess is they ran in the newspaper of the small town they lived in after Lily Dale, but the online archives have a big gap between 1989, when their microfiche scans end, and the 2000s, when someone bothered building them a website. If they have headstones, nobody's taken pictures of them for FindAGrave.com. I threw their names at Spokeo and WhitePages and the like, to see if whoever survived longest had moved elsewhere to be with other family, and made an interesting discovery. Directories like that scrape data from other places. Mailing lists, public records, that sort of thing. Most people have at least one "AKA" listing, where they did or didn't use their middle initial for something, or went by Kathy instead of Katherine. Harry seems to have really been Harry, never Harold, which fits with the family naming habits. I did dig up a middle name, and it does tally with the one on the picture of the book cover on Amazon out-of-stock listing, so at least I know I'm tracking the right guy. So far as I can tell from his AKAs, Edward never went by Ed or Eddie -- but he did, at some point in his life, go by Harry's surname. It's exactly the sort of middle finger to convention I would expect from any relative of mine, really. Fuck you, mainstream society, we're married. One of the places it's noted is on a profile for one of the ancestry services that says it was created and maintained by his brother, so at least some of his family seems to have treated them the same way Harry's did. It actually makes me wonder if they had some sort of commitment ceremony at some point. (Beyond signing a joint mortgage on at least one house, I mean. Those are way harder to get out of than a marriage.) There wouldn't be any records filed with the State of New York -- although there's always the chance they were smart enough to file legal papers giving power of attorney and leaving their estate to the other one -- but if it happened in Lily Dale, the Assembly might have noted it. from Blogger https://ift.tt/2zVc9Bw via IFTTT -------------------- Enjoy my writing? Consider becoming a Patron, subscribing via Kindle, or just toss a little something in my tip jar. Thanks!

[musicprincess655]

Youichi thought he, Ryou, and Miyuki had found some sort of truce after a few months of coexisting, but that all went to shit when he heard a crash from the living room, and raised voices. He sprinted out just in time to see Ryou throw a small ball of energy at Miyuki.

It shouldn’t have been enough to cause damage, shouldn’t have been more than the equivalent of a rough shove. But Miyuki cowered away, covering his head with his arms. Youichi finally managed to plant himself between the two of them.

“Enough!” he shouted. “Ryou-san, back off.”

“But…”

“Now!”

For once, Ryou actually listened. With more room to breathe, he turned to Miyuki.

“Are you okay?”

“I can’t be here right now,” Miyuki said, shaking off the hands Youichi had put on his shoulders. His eyes looked wild and trapped. “I have to get out of here.”

“Go to Sawamura and Masuko’s,” Youichi said. He didn’t think Miyuki was listening to him. “Hey! I mean it. You’re upset, I don’t want you wandering around by yourself. Sawamura and Masuko are the closest. I’m texting Sawamura that you’re on your way, and if you’re not there in the next thirty minutes he and Masuko are gonna come looking for you.”

He hoped he’d gotten his point across, because Miyuki was quick to leave after that. He rounded on Ryou, who looked a little subdued.

“What the fuck?” he demanded. “I know you’re frustrated, and arguing with Miyuki fixes that for some reason, but you crossed a line. I don’t care what you think your excuse is, he has done nothing to deserve that level of retaliation.”

Ryou didn’t have anything to say in response to that.

“I’m leaving,” Youichi said, but groaned when he felt the bond tugging at him. “And it appears you’re coming with me. Get your ass in gear. We’re going to get your damn chicken.”

As a demon, even though he could eat regular food, Ryou needed more to stay alive. He’d pointed out that Youichi was going to have to feed him. He couldn’t exactly make sacrifices to himself, and his only other alternative was finding another human soul, which would probably be complicated by the bond, anyway.

So Youichi had been picking chickens up from a farm outside the city from a woman named Tamano. She gave him a discount since she didn’t have to bring the chicken to market, and he valued the weekly trips as his only escape from the hot mess that was his life right now. It was weird that they were when he felt the most normal, considering it involved spending an hour riding a train with a chicken, but at least he got to be alone with his thoughts, and the worst the chickens ever did was cluck at him.

He didn’t even have that right now, and Ryou was kind of the last person he wanted to talk to. It sucked that when they most needed space from each other, they couldn’t get away. He needed a minute to himself to stop being furious at Ryou for going after Miyuki, even if it hadn’t been an attack that would’ve done any harm. It was still crossing a line, especially because it was Miyuki.

He tried to calm himself down by thinking of something else, ignoring that Ryou’s shoulder was pressed into his by necessity. For some reason, he started thinking about the first time he’d sacrificed a chicken for Ryou.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Ryou asked.

“How hard is it to kill a chicken?” Youichi countered. He gripped his knife tighter. “And I just have to dedicate it to you?”

Ryou nodded.

“It’s nice when it comes with burning of the chicken, too, but that’s impossible if you insist on eating that for dinner,” he said.

“Can’t waste perfectly good food,” Youichi said. “This killed my grocery money for the week.”

Enough stalling. He raised the knife.

“Alright, to whoever this is supposed to concern, I dedicate the life of this chicken to Ryou-san,” he said. Ryou rolled his eyes. It wasn’t elegant, but it counted. He brought the knife down on the chicken’s neck.

He wasn’t expecting it to jerk around so much, spraying him with blood. He definitely didn’t expect it to get shit all over his shoes.

Ryou, however, seemed to have expected that, because he started laughing at Youichi’s disgusted face. Youichi shuddered. Gross.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s just get this thing cooked.”

They were lucky enough not to pass any neighbors on their way up to the apartment. Youichi had to make Ryou open the door, since his hands were full of dead, bloody chicken.

Miyuki was passing the door on his way into the kitchen. His eyes widened when he took in the sight of Youichi and Ryou and the dead chicken. Youichi held it up.

“Help?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, you’re supposed to be the good cook,” Youichi begged.

“I can cook cleaned chicken breasts,” Miyuki said, lip curling a little in disgust. Which, fair. The chicken was pretty gross-looking. “We have these great things called grocery stores. I’ve never butchered a chicken before.”

Maybe Youichi’s helpless look made Miyuki take pity on him for once.

“Look, get it cleaned and deboned and I’ll do the rest,” he sighed. “And don’t come out of the genkan. Get that out of here before you get blood on the floor.”

“He’d probably just get chicken shit on the floor,” Ryou offered helpfully. Miyuki looked like he was reconsidering the option of cursing them both into oblivion.

“Out.”

Okay, so he was kicked out of his own apartment with a dead chicken. This was fine. His phone had internet, he could just look up how to clean a chicken. It couldn’t be that hard, right?

He was interrupted by a throat clearing. He looked up to see their elderly neighbor giving his bloody clothes a judgmental look. He slapped on his best please don’t report me to the landlord look.

“Evening, Fuwa-san,” he said, turning on the charm.

“You know you have to hold the chicken down until the muscle spasms stop, right?” she asked.

“I figured that out, yes.”

She gave him a long look. Youichi tried not to squirm. She was definitely going to report them to the landlord, and there was no way he was getting his security deposit back.

“Come on, then,” she finally sighed. “You can borrow my sink, and I’ll show you how to clean that.”

“What?”

“Today, Kuramochi-kun. I’m not getting any younger.”

Fuwa-san had shown him how to defeather, clean, and debone a chicken. Defeathering had become Ryou’s job, and it looked like he had fun ripping feathers out. Fuwa-san allowed him to use her sink to clean up his chickens, as long as he gave her the feet, bones and innards. He didn’t ask about her brujería shit and she didn’t ask about his.

Thinking about something else had calmed him down, but he still wasn’t really in the mood to talk to Ryou. To his credit, Ryou hadn’t tried to start a conversation, tucking himself as far away from Youichi as the bond would let him get. They spent the hour’s train ride in silence, only breaking when Youichi said “this is our stop” and settling right back in as they walked to Tamano’s farm.

The thing about Tamano was that it was really hard to stay mad around her. She was a bright, smiley woman whether Youichi was in the mood to smile or not, and it was infectious. Youichi could feel his shoulder muscles loosening as he waved to her. She grinned, eyes focusing in on Ryou.

“Is this your pet demon?” she asked. Ryou looked at Youichi with a dangerous smile.

“You call me your pet demon?” he asked, voice dripping with poison.

“No, he doesn’t, but he’d much rather call you something else,” Tamano said, wiggling her eyebrows. Youichi wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Just what he needed after everything else – Tamano telling Ryou about his very unfortunate crush.

He knew it was stupid. He knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. He knew he was walking directly into heartbreak. And he still had this big, dumb, unfortunate crush on Ryou.

It wasn’t like he could help it. Not only was Ryou ridiculously attractive, almost as if he’d tailored his appearance to appeal directly to Youichi’s tastes, but his personality was intriguing and attractive in equal parts. He had a dry sense of humor, and could be savage as hell with his wit, and if he’d been human, Youichi probably would’ve been willing to go to jail for him.

He was probably willing to go to jail for him anyway.

And he’d thought Tamano was someone safe to vent to about his unfortunate, doomed crush, but it appeared he’d made a grave mistake.

Luckily, Tamano gave them the chicken and waved them happily on their way, with only a whispered he’s a cutie to Youichi to make him blush. They lapsed back into silence on the train, sitting with the chicken between them.

After almost thirty minutes of silence, Ryou finally spoke up.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt him,” he said. Youichi turned to look at him. He was looking out the window, face mostly hidden from Youichi. “Haruichi and I do that to each other all the time. It wouldn’t have hurt him. I wasn’t trying to hurt him.”

Youichi sighed. He did owe Ryou an explanation, because while he’d crossed a line by escalating to a magic attack, for anyone else, it was a forgivable breach.

“This isn’t entirely my story to tell, so if you want details, you can ask Miyuki yourself,” he said. “But the general story is that some assholes in middle school bullied him, and they used chaos magic to attack him. He’s still a little weird about chaos magic now.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Other than middle school kids just being shits?” Youichi asked. Ryou shrugged, but he was actually facing Youichi now, and this felt a little like reconciliation. “A lot of witches like to think they’re better than familiars because we have high power levels. They forget that we need familiars a lot more than familiars need us. Miyuki didn’t exactly help the situation by mouthing off whenever those kids messed with him, although that’s still no excuse for attacking him.”

Ryou nodded.

“I know you’re not happy here,” Youichi went on. “I’m sorry, and I know that doesn’t make you any less bound, but I’m sorry anyway. I’m going to make sure you’re not hungry, and I won’t stop looking until I find a way to unbind you. So just…lay off Miyuki. None of this is his fault, and he’s doing his best with the situation. Take it out on me if you have to take it out on someone.”

“Can we practice for the coven battles more?” Ryou asked. “It’ll…it’ll feel better to do something. I feel like I’m just sitting on my ass, and I’m not getting anywhere.”

“Yeah,” Youichi promised. “We should be working on combos more, anyway. We have to be able to play off each other.”

They sat in silence, letting the apology sink in.

“Buh gok,” said the chicken. Youichi couldn’t help the smile that sprung to his face, and before he knew it, he was laughing his head off, Ryou shaking with silent, suppressed laughter beside him.

Nothing about this situation was okay. But maybe it could be. Youichi could hope for things to get better, and maybe they would.

[god-hunter]

In Finding a New Normal

This one’s gonna be shorter I think.  I’ve pretty much exhausted my feelings about my 5 year girl and my Dancing girl.

Since last Sunday I’ve been on an incredibly panic-inducing search for new places to live.  The websites are so easy, with just 1-click automatic e-mails.  The rush is real.  I clicked on so many places, and about 8 got back to me, within the week!!!

Place #1

That Sunday I went to the first place and it was way too small.  The price was right, everything was included, but good God.  No way.  It was a tiny kitchen, that led right into a bedroom that would’ve been literally all bed.  It could fit a TV on top of a dresser.  And... that's it.  A little bathroom in the back.  The place looked grimy.  This was a no.

Place #2

This one I was more excited about.  The pictures looked pretty promising.  There was a front foyer, a decent looking little kitchen, and a nice sized bedroom/living area.

The reality however was not what I expected.  This apartment had the unique feature of allowing you the downstairs and the upstairs, however...  the downstairs was literally the foyer, which is right by the front door and then this small kitchen with barely any counter space to do your thing.  Then you go upstairs and even that’s awkward as the railing is right next to the wall.  You can’t actually grip the rail.

Anyway, once up top, it seemed like there were 2 closets to put your stuff, but instead they were more like attic storage.  You’d have to crawl in it, to grab your boxes or whatever.  Neither could serve as an actual closet with the structure of the roof.  It was triangular or “cape” as they call it.  There were big windows with lots of natural light and I liked the color scheme, however when I tried to go near the window and admire the view, my Head was touching the fucking ceiling!!!

This was already a no for me.  Forget the Bathroom, which was just okay in my opinion.  (Also, there was single driveway parking off of a Main St and another couple living on the property in the back part of the house or whatever.  So I became more concerned with the logistics of having to move cars, or just deal with bullshit like leaving to work on a busy street every day.)

Place #3

That night, I checked out another place that I was excited about.  The pictures depicted a nice clean, simple apartment with this white, gray and blue color scheme and I really dug it.  The location was also closer to my parents, and I was really starting to like this idea.  

Honestly, when I saw the place I liked it a lot.  It had a large bedroom, a nice kitchen, the bathroom was very clean and good looking, but the living room area was tiny.  It could fit a couch and a TV.  I wasn’t sure if it could really fit my desk which is so important to me.  Let alone my bookshelf which is a bonus, but I’ve got a lot of comics. 

 I was starting to learn what was important to me as I checked out these places.  Either way, I told them the truth.  I was looking at a lot of places, but I really liked what I saw.  How soon did they need an answer?

These guys needed one tomorrow...  They want someone to move in by 3/1.  That was a little soon for me, at first, but I was like, “Okay...”

I asked about their pet policy and it was a strict “no cats”.  Which is fine, for now.  I don’t have any pets.  But one day I’m gonna want a cat again.

Place #4

The same realtor showed me another place across town.  It’s almost not worth talking about because I hated it.  The town and neighborhood were fine, but... this property didn’t look too great.  I wasn’t thrilled with the ghetto looking backyard.

This place had an absentee landlord and 3 other tenants in this shared house.  All Men in their 40′s.  I kind of liked this idea actually as I’m 34...  Each tenant has their own Private Entrance, so technically we wouldn’t really be dealing with each other.  But there was shared usage of the backyard, so who knows?  Definitely a possibility to hang in the back and grill in the same space or whatever.  Have a beer with each other, or deal with friends in one area, while others wanted to do something else.

But I didn’t even have to worry about any of that, because the bedroom was pretty small, the living room was big, the kitchen was nice enough, but... I just didn’t like the feel.  Also, you could hear neighbors through the walls.

So Nope!

Place #5

This one, I recall seeing the pictures and going, “Hmmm... Why not?  I could make this work...” and when I saw the actual place physically, I actually felt medium about it!

Not as good as Place #3, but better than all the rest.  

Opening the door was a straight shot upstairs, to which there was a very nice sized kitchen.  Decent closet for linens or kitchen stuff.  There were built in drawers on 2 sides of a short wall that could serve as extra storage/built-in dresser for a bedroom.  Above that could've been the center piece for my Record Player or something.

But was the place big enough for my desk?  How big of a bed could I really have there comfortably, without eating up the whole bedroom?

Bedroom was kind of small.  Living room was bigger, but couldn’t fit my nice Kitchen Table.  It came with it’s own small round one though, and I could’ve totally made that work.

I wanted to think on this one...

Place #6

WAY too small!  lol

It was a Studio, so when I saw the pictures, I kinda knew what I was in for, but the big draw was that I could have 1 pet.  So how much was I willing to sacrifice for this Future Cat?

I got in there.  Private back entrance, access to a beautiful backyard...  Two plusses.

But then, you immediately see this low hanging duct which goes across the whole apartment from wall-to-wall.  It looms above the sink and stove, and I’m a big guy.  So doing dishes, and cooking would have to be done while crouching...  Very fucking uncomfortable.

Forget everything else!  The bathroom was nice, there were 2 closets!  Room for a bed, but not a couch, but a nice spot for my TV.  I could maybe fit my bookshelf, probably not my desk.  Or sacrifice one for the other.  Definitely could fit my Table.  But it didn’t matter.

That Duct was NOT gonna happen.  I laughed with the realtor and instead we talked about the possibility of Condos/Co-ops.

She educated me a little bit about my income and actual chances of getting stuff and I really appreciated it.

Place #7

This one was an unexpected turn-up.  My co-worker had seen how hard I was working on finding new places and she brought up that her Uncle was renovating an apartment that I should look at.

I was like, “Alright, let me know when it’s ready. I’d love to see it.”

Once she saw how many calls I was getting and that I was marking out the rest of my week she was like, “Oh, you can see it nooow...”

So, I did.  And I fucking LOVED it.

This place is huge.  Private Entrance.  Direct to the upstairs.  Once up there, there’s a kitchen on your right.  A decent bed-room on the other side of it.

Then I saw a Master Bedroom and a large Living Room!

Holy Shit, this was a 2-Bedroom.  And it could fit everything!!  I could tell.  I was so floored. The price was comparable to what me and my lady are paying now, so...  for just one person, I’m a little worried, but also, my parents hooked me up with help for the year.  [I’m not a mooch though.  I’m gonna find a better job in order to live within my means.  Or a roommate...]

But yeah.  This quickly became a no brainer.  There was a portable dishwasher in the kitchen, washer/dryer access in the basement.  Down the stairs and private back outside access to the basement to get in there, but whatever.  They’re 2 big machines that I get to use??  I am IN.

Here are the cons though.

1. It’s a very small bathroom.  Like, a hallway.  The wall is right in front of the toilet.  But, he’s planning on fixing that, and moving the toilet 4 inches closer to the wall behind it.  That’ll give more leg room and make a difference.

2. It’s not ready yet.  He needs 2 months for all the changes he wants to make.  He wants to add more outlets to make some rooms more convenient, which is redoing wiring and stuff.  [He’s a retired electrical engineer, so he’s into this stuff.]. He wants to move that toilet.  He wants to redo the carpets and paint.

Hell, I told him I’d help paint!  But he was like, “No no, I have a guy that he call and he’s very quick.  So I’ll just do that.”  I also brought up, “If there’s things you want to do while I’m in there, you’re welcome to work on stuff and I’ll be in a different room.  That doesn’t bother me...”

But he was like, “Yeah, but... this kind of work is hard to do when someone is living in there with all of their stuff around.”

So I could tell he wasn’t comfortable with me moving in sooner than 2 months, and I didn’t press him.

3. He doesn't want to sign a lease... Immediately I thought this is an illegal apartment.  It threw me way off.  You have to protect yourself.  I need guarantees.  Honestly, I really just want something in writing saying that I’m moving in in April.  So it’s definite and we can make this a thing.

Well, I got my letter in writing, signed by him.  However the wording he used was, “He can move in when the apartment is ready.  At this time I estimate it will be ready by April 1.”

Estimate!  April FOOLS, Maaaaan.

I don’t wanna hear come April that he’s just not ready yet and needs another Month.  I can’t do that shit.

But this place is so worth it in every other way it seems.  I don’t think I’m ever gonna get another deal as good as this.  I can Literally live the same life I’m living right now, except without the shitty roommate and I’ll be closer to work!!!!

So is it worth it...?  This waiting game?  And this awkward interim period?

That’s something I’m still mulling over.  But at the very least, I can rest assured that he Wants me to move in.  He WON’T charge me a security deposit.  Everything else IS a good deal..  And he won’t let anyone else swoop in in the meantime.  I get 1st choice.  He is holding this apartment for me until April.

To which if it’s not ready, I can decide whether I’ve had enough and need to look for more places, or if I’ll wait it out some more.

[Which is crazy talk.  Get the fuck outta here. I just broke up with my girlfriend.  We need to LEAVE EACH OTHER!]

Place #8

This one I didn’t get to see...  It’s at an apartment complex and I was very excited about it, because it did seem large and spacious.  It’s farther from work, but also, I’m getting a new job anyway, so that didn’t matter too much to me.

But I talked about it to the Lady, who is still my Friend and she was immediately like, “No way dude!  That’s too much money!!!”  It’s true.  This was a stretch budget.  Even with the help, I’d be depleting my savings and always asking my parents for more help.  And that’s not what I’m about.  At all.

So... when I fell in love with Place #7, it took the edge off of this one.  I probably still would’ve gone just to check it out.  Keep my mind open.

But the more my day unfolded and the more I thought about that deal that I didn’t want to pass up, the more I was like, “I think I can do this.  I can give myself a 2 month time-table and slowly pack.  This could really work...”

And then the friendly realtor called me to double-check our appointment for that day.  I politely thanked her for her time and said that I think I’m going in a different direction.  She thanked me for that as well and the appointment was off.  Frankly, other people were probably chomping at the bit anyway, so one less candidate for her to worry about.

.........................

So this takes me to my interactions at work.  And my overall vibe, I guess.

I’ve been told that people have noticed a change in me.  I look like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.  I’m glowing.  There’s life in my eyes again.  [Which is bittersweet to say].

But I’ve been so passionate about these possible places to live and Dancing Girl definitely fed on my excitement.

It got to the point where at breaks we were the only ones talking again.  Everyone else was in their phones, but her and I would talk about my new possible outcomes, and then she would either bring something different up and I’d listen attentively or we’d laugh about random stuff.

She’s still giddy around me...

And my co-worker who told me about Place #7 also brought up that she thinks I like Dancing Girl.  This scared me.  Is it that obvious?  Are people noticing??

Does she have an idea?  Probably...

The chemistry is more-less back to normal.

But I wrote that blog for a reason.  I can’t forget what happened that first night in town.  She neutral danced with me and then flirty danced with a muscly dude.

It was thrown out there a little bit this week that she wanted to dance and drink again.  I put out neutral energy all week about that.  [Fool me once, shame on you.  Fool me twice, shame on me.]

I didn’t get excited about Friday.  I did me all week.  And when I was asked about going on Wednesday, I was like, “Honestly, I might be so emotionally exhausted, I might wanna do nothing...”

She immediately piped up and was like, “Whaat?  No, man.  Emotionally Exhausted is the exact time that you Need to be drinking!!”

So, it was clear that she wanted me there.  Or at least a repeat of 2 weeks ago. The same people out.

So Friday’s energy was interesting.  I wasn’t stoked for dancing, or sure it was even gonna happen.  Then the plan blew up in her face when it seemed 2 others didn’t want to go at all.

My night consisted of my lessons and then chilling with my parents for a bit.  It seemed that dancing was on, and I didn’t want to go home.  So I just chilled, responded to the chat and eventually met them out.

The people that didn’t want to go were only there for like an hour.  I thought that was interesting.  It’s almost like they pulled the Wingman move for her.  To just be out, but then be alone with the rest of us.

But here’s where I felt stupid.

Muscle Dude was there again and definitely trying to get in with her.  I vented to my Mom about it already.  I didn’t want to see this!  And I certainly didn’t want to compete.

So I kinda stood by myself and drank alone while the dancing was happening around me.  Eventually she came over to me and told me to take my coat off.

The attention was nice, but...  who knows.

Then I noticed her neutral dancing.  She wasn’t comin’ in with him.  Or me.  And there was another bitch there that I didn’t really like at work.  But this night changed that.

She served as the buffer.  She was a bitch block.  And in a way, I liked that this kept Muscle Dude away.  But also, now I had to play neutral energy and dance more with the other friends or even her, just so that the idea wasn’t out there that I was trying to make moves on Dancing Girl.

Bitch Block is a hawk.  I can tell.  I knew that going in, which was another reason why I wasn’t so jazzed about going out.  But also.... I didn’t want to go home.  And another chance to spend time with her...?  Fuck it.

What are we, anyway?  At the moment, it’s just friends.  Right??

So maybe I went for closure.  I dunno.

The dude definitely tried.  And she took one of his advances.  Mardi Gras beads were thrown into the crowd.  He somehow made a star shaped necklace out of it and put it around her neck.

When she wanted to get out of there, I put my scarf around her neck and she immediately rejected it.  The dude made sure to grab it from her and put it around my neck.

I didn’t like that at all.

So fuck it.  That’s probably the tell.  We’re just friends.  She’s not interested in me.

But we went across town to her other favorite place.  And I liked this way better.  Nice set of craft beers at the bar, and it was a decent dancing atmosphere.  More bar, but still dancing.  And places to fucking Sit!

I liked this a lot actually.  She bought me a beer and we went upstairs and sat.  Bitch block made sure to sit on her other side, so muscle dude couldn’t sit next to her.

He and I befriended each other a little bit.  I was nice to him.  I don’t hate him.  Can't blame a dude for trying, right?

But this was the interesting part.  A song came on and they were dancing.  And then she led him to like, 2 other strangers.  Then she got in my ear saying, “I had him dance with the other girls so maybe he can actually get some pussy tonight!”

This shocked me.  I might’ve given her five, lol.  I dunno.

But that said to me that she’s not into him.

It’s very possible that she’s not into either of us.

But again...  what’s with all the giddiness?  Does she actually know what she wants?  I don’t think so.

She asked what I thought of the place though.  And I told her I loved it.

She smiled and said this was her favorite place.

This tells me she wants to go there again.  Or at least that she likes that I like where she hangs out.  Whether it’s with me or not.  Who knows...?

Too many unknowns dude.

But also... she’s not broken up with her boyfriend yet.  So that’s another reason for not seriously moving in, or asking her out on different hang outs and ‘dates’.

First of all, I’m not ready for that kind of interaction yet, no matter how horny I am.  Secondly, she’ll need a grace period after it inevitably does happen.

But here’s what I have in my favor.  Bitch Block was a little drunk, and admitted to me.  “You’re a cool dude.”  And it was our open dialogue to finally squash whatever weird work beef we had with each other.  I told her I thought she always hated me, and then she came back with the same thing.  She thought I was jealous of her relationship with our boss.  And I was like, “I couldn’t give a fuck about her!!” and we both laughed.

I friended her on FB yesterday and she accepted it.  So there ya go...  She’s probably more of a “Friend”, but I’ll take it.

I don’t remember her actually saying this or not, but I think she mentioned something about coming out to make sure I wasn’t making a move on dancing girl.

I just said, “Yep,” not knowing quite what I heard.  But it was probably that.

And if so, that means I passed!

My vibes weren’t overt.  They were friendly and casual.  And honestly, both girls were dancing with each other all night.  Which was pretty hot, I’m not gonna lie.  Even though I can’t stand Bitch Block.

So if I ever danced with them, it was kind of with both of them.  Muscle dude was on the outside.  Sometimes he’d come around and dance with her, but mostly to himself.  And that was really interesting.

...So I don’t know if this is gonna be a thing that happens every 2 weeks now.  But I can tell that this is her favorite town.  And the results of this night weren’t in favor for either of the Men.

I’m glad I stuck it out though.  Her Dad picked her and Bitch Block up.  Me & Dudebro said goodbye on our way to our cars.

I put it out there to dancing girl, that usually I don’t have more than 3 and I’m always okay to drive in the future.  She definitely didn’t want to leave when she had to.

So who the fuck knows man.

This is a weird transition period, but... I’m on the way to finding my new normal.

Also... I can’t forget the little bit about her talking to some other dude on the side.  She’s a gorgeous girl with a Hell of an Instagram, so I bet she gets hit on ALL the time...

So, she doesn’t talk about him.  But frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if she broke up with her boyfriend and then wound up with a new one in 2 weeks...

Which brings it back to me.

In the long-run, I don’t want that to be me...  I’m too old.  She’s too young.  It’s too weird.  And also, I can’t just jump into a new relationship.

But that’s where it’s good for her.  Because she’s a party girl.  And she might just wanna fuck.  And that’s something I’d be Aaaaalll about.

Except I know where that goes too.  That ends the friendship. And as our work group is so tight-nit, that would probably be the end of that clique.

But I’m getting a new job anyway, so what does that matter in the end, right?

...Too many unknowns, dude...

This has been my headspace In Finding A New Normal.  Thanks for joining me.