#i was told to tough things out always AL FUCKING WAYS whenever i had any kind of problems

[xiaojaan]

.

[eve-evil-lair]

Catching a Drink, SFW, Audrey and Killian, Vampire (F) & Werewolf (M)

@monster-bait​ here’s a one new thing XD Art of Audrey: here and here (2nd one mine warning for terrible).

If you like the story consider reblogging as my things don’t seem to appear in the tag! Thank you!

Also thank you @followmetoyourdoom​ for Beta Reading

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The Fox Burrow was an old tavern in the middle part of the Shadow Market. It had a decent reputation of fair prices, good ale and fairly tasty meals. Like all bars and taverns in the Market, it was a neutral place for citizens from all the imperial lands. The owner also made it very clear that any troublemaker would face the consequences of their actions. Busy during the day and half the night, The Fox Burrow would close up for a few hours so the staff could clean the floors, count the money and have shifts change before preparation for the morning rush would start. At that time only one of the bartenders and the owner of the establishment would be present.

 Matt was counting the money when he heard a loud thud upstairs. Someone, quite forcefully, opened the door. The noise was followed by the sound of heavy steps down the stairs. Soon a short, young-looking woman showed up. She had black, waist-long hair and bright brown eyes that immediately let him know she was  pissed off. She sat with a huff at the bar, slamming her hands down on the counter-top.

"Miss, we are closed," Matt replied. He was new at this bar but not new to bartending. This girl was one of the difficult customers.

"Shut up, is Killian here?" She rebuked him accordingly with his prediction.

Matt sighed heavily. It was too late to deal with this. They literally closed 5 minutes ago. Why couldn’t people just read the sign on the door? 

He opened his mouth to say something but his boss showed up behind him giving him a pat on the shoulder. "I got this," he said before standing in front of the girl. 

Killian was an impressive werewolf. Broad chested and muscular, he stood at 6’8” and had a copper coloured mane that went white in patches as his age caught up with him, as well as some more wolfish features - claws, and a more wolf-like face shape. Ageing for werewolves was quite problematic in that aspect. But Killian still got a lot of respect from his patrons and employees.  "You are being rude to my staff." He said, matter-of-factly.

"Pour my fucking drink, Killian, I am not in the mood," she grumbled crossing her arms on her chest. 

"Tsk, tsk, bossy," he snorted and reached under the counter.

"Oh, fuck you, Killian," she huffed raising her voice. "I don't deserve that! If a man was behaving as I do, he would be 'a strong leader' or 'a strict but respected boss',” she air-quoted, gesturing wildly, “but when I behave like that I'm a bitch! Or bossy! So fuck you, Killian," she repeated pointing at him. She nearly fell off her stool as she slammed her hands down again. "I am the god damned Empress of this fucking empire!" She yelled. "Do you know how long I have been ruling here? Since I was-"

"19," Killian deadpanned under his breath in sync with her ranting as he mixed the drink.

"Yeah! And do you know how long I've been ruling? For-"

"Ten fucking thousand years," Kilian mouthed again word for word with her, rolling his eyes while his back was turned to her.

"Exactly! So fuck that! I want my drink. Fucking bastards all of them!" She snatched the glass the second he was done pouring it up.

"Tough Council meeting?" he made his guess watching her amused.

"Mhm," she confirmed and downed the drink. "Another, please." It seemed the burn of alcohol had placated her a little. 

"Oh, look at you saying please and thank you!" He cooed and she glared at him.

"Boss?" Matt watched them from a safe distance, kind of confused with all the conversation happening in front of him. Was the tiny lady really their ruler? And was his boss now… what was that even, flirting? Friendly jabs? His head hurt trying to wrap his mind around it.

"Who's the elf?" The Empress asked before downing another shot. 

The young bartender flinched hearing her acknowledge him again. Oh, stars he had been rude to the Empress! Would there be assassins at his flat???

"It's alright Matt, just go home," Killian waved at him and that was all the young bartender needed to hear. He made himself scarce. 

The old werewolf snickered as he pulled himself a stool to sit on. “You made quite the impression on him.”

“It comes with the crown. Scaring people shitless,” she crossed her legs and swayed her shoe on her toes. “So, since it is just you and me now, what about some good ol' tension relief, Audrey and Killian style?" She smirked at him and raised one eyebrow. Shot number three hit the wood of the counter and she licked her lips in a way that, were he younger, she would have already been on the countertop moaning. 

Instead, Killian just laughed. "Darling, I am too old for that." He shook his head and filled her glass.

"What? Bullshit," she folded her forearms on the bar. That pout though was still cute. She was pulling all her cards tonight, huh?

"Girl, you are a vampire, you don't age," he propped his cheek on his hand. "Werewolves do," he ran a hand through his faded red hair. "I am simply too old for your fancy bed yoga. My back won’t take it."

Audrey laughed a little. "My fancy bed yoga, huh?"

"Yup." He reached for another bottle. After pouring himself another one he looked at her. It had been a while since he'd seen her last. Vampires don't age, don't really change but she looked--felt older. The first time they'd met he thought she was just a girl down in jail with him. She had turned out to be so much more. His ribs could still feel some of the shenanigans they used to get into.

"What's bothering you?" he asked, shaking off the nostalgia.

"Are your bartender senses tingling?" She joked, but there was barely any humour in her voice. Her hair fell over her shoulder as she tilted her head. The glass slowly resonated as she traced the rim.

"Maybe. No one told you it's rude to answer a question with a question?" He narrowed his eyes jokingly.

"Multiple times," she squinted back at him. "You could have taken my offer you know?" Her features softened, voice tinged with melancholy.

He shrugged and leaned back. "I am no soldier and I am fine with my already extended life span." It finally clicked what this was about. "Something tells me you aren't."

"I never said you had to be in the army." She wiggled the glass at him and he poured her some of his own drink.

"Royal consort didn't suit me either. We weren't that kind of a pair." He said, giving her a serious look.

"I know." She nurses the glass this time. "Well, at least I am glad you have this bar." She looked around admiring the interior. She had been a patron there multiple times across the ages and by this time it felt a bit like home.

"Of course you do, where else would you go drinking?" He scoffed.

Audrey snapped her head to him and glared. "Somewhere where the staff is nicer to me," she bit back but her lips were shaking from badly suppressed laughter and soon they both burst into a fit of giggles.

"Oooooh. I am scared," he grinned. "You would hate that."

“I would so much." She shook her head and bit her lip. Then she got quiet.

It was worrisome when she did that. Always looked like she was so far away from him. If one would look closer they’d notice the time catching up with her a little. It was weird seeing someone so youthful-looking, no more than 20 something, with the eyes and presence of a wise old man. 

"Audrey?" He tried to pry her attention back to him. 

"Yeah?" She looked up, returning to him from wherever she went in that time. Or whenever.

"When I’ll kick the bucket-" he started and she interrupted him.

"Oh, please stop." She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"No, no, listen. When I kick the bucket... I want you to, and it is very important, bawl your eyes out." He nodded sagely.

She stared at him, mouth agape. "You are awful!" She gasped finally.

"I want there to be fountains!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms wide open. "Lakes cried by the one and only Empress! Stone cold tears!" he laughed maniacally.

"I am going to throw my drink at you, you asshole." To confirm her threat, her arm was raised with the glass still half full. “I will set your casket on fire just to spite you.”

He winked at her. "To old friendships," he raised his glass.

"With benefits," she giggled. They clicked the glasses and downed their drinks. “I need to go back before they send a search party for me,” she sighed and stood up.

"Will you finally settle that tab by the way?" he asked but she was already heading to the stairs.

"One day!"

"Fucking rich bitch!" he shouted after her. “Buy me dinner then!”

"Fuck you!" she shouted back merrily. Her heels were already clicking over the stone stairs.

"You already did!" he snorted and he could hear her giggling as she closed the heavy door. Well, they never were ones for goodbyes. They weren't going to start now.

[mattygraygubler]

our campus: ch 9 (tom holland fic)

summary: tom and reader go to the same college and y/n is tasked with being his tutor, they don’t really get along at first (because i love reader and tom hating each other trope)

warnings: drinking, making out, mentions of sex

word count: 2k

a/n: i had a hard time finishing this one, i wanted it to be longer butttttttttttt here we are, as always texts are bolded

for a list of characters click here

to be added to the tag list send me an ask !

masterlist

✰✰✰✰✰

“Wha- What did you just say?” You asked, looking at Tom. He was staring into your eyes. 

“I dare you,” He said and stood up, walking over to you. “To kiss me.” 

“Tom!” You said and took a step back, almost falling because of how drunk you were. “We’re drunk, that’s a terrible idea.” 

“Why?” He asked. “Who cares if we’re drunk?” 

“Tom, no, I can’t be one of your… one of your-” 

“One of my what?” 

“Your hoes, your conquests! I’m not that type of girl anymore, you can’t sleep with me once and forget about me, I’m your tutor, you have to see me, if we sleep together it’ll just be-”

“Whoa.” Tom said and stepped back. “Who said I wanted to sleep with you?” 

“What?” 

“I dared you to kiss me, Y/N, I never said anything else.” 

“It’s you, Tom, you don’t kiss girls without an ulterior motive, you’re like, the definition of a fuckboy.” 

“Whatever, Y/N, I’ll see you later.” He said with a huff, grabbed his stuff and walked out, slamming the door behind him. 

You collapsed on your floor, hugging your knees. The world was spinning, you had drank too much. You debated texting your group chat, but you couldn’t remember where you put your phone. 

* * *

You woke up on your floor. You were too drunk to make it to your bed last night, despite it being two feet away. 

It was Monday, normally you would be in class right now, but the snow storm gave you guys a snow day. You looked outside to see the snow coming down hard. If it continued like this, you could have another snow day tomorrow, too. 

You heard your phone buzzing and found it under your bed. You had a ton of unread messages, and a new group chat that consisted of you, Isabelle, Ally, Emily, Harrison, Cal, and, you guessed it, Tom. Emily was definitely the culprit, she loved making new group chats. 

snow day gang

Em

i decided we needed a gc

Harrison

I fully support this 

Em

anyway i heard from one of my friends who works for the dean that its almost certain we have a snow day tomorrow too! so what time do you guys wanna start drinking

Cal

whenever works for us, but Isabelle is still asleep

jk shes waking up now

Al

im up

who tf let me drink that much damn

anyone heard from Y/N or tom?

Harrison

tom is in the bed next to me, he came back about 15 minutes after we did and passed out

not sure about Y/N

Iz

she drank more than any of us, shes probs still asleep

Cal

send tom when he wakes up to check on her

Harrison

hes awake but he just left

Cal

to check on Y/N?

Harrison

doubtful.

Cal

dont tell me hes in a bad mood again

Al

you guys do know hes in this chat right?

Em

whatevs what time are we partying

Iz

depends on when Y/N wakes up 

You scrolled through and weren’t surprised that Tom hadn’t answered, or that he was in a bad mood. You turned him down, and he’s definitely not used to girls not wanting to fuck him. You debated ignoring them, but knew if you did that someone would definitely come knocking down your door and you for sure didn’t want that. 

You

yeah come over at like 7

im going back to bed dont txt

You immediately left the group chat and crawled into bed, your body still exhausted from last night. 

* * * 

Isabelle, Ally, and Cal walked in carrying a few bottles of wine and bags of chips. They made themselves comfortable and Ally searched your bookcase for your poker chips. You waited a while, sitting on the floor in a circle as you shuffled the cards. 

10 minutes later the door opened again and Harrison physically pushed Tom into the room, with Emily following closely behind. 

“Y/N,” Emily said sweetly, “Can I talk to you for a second?” You got up quizzically. She gestured to the bathroom, so you went inside only to find Harrison pushing Tom in after. 

“HEY!” You yelled and banged on the door. It couldn’t be locked from the outside, but they had pushed the couch up against the door so you couldn’t get out. 

“We’ll let you out once you’ve stopped being mad at each other.” Harrison said. 

“We like hanging out all together and we aren’t gonna let you two ruin it with your stubbornness!” Emily added on. You sat on the floor, your back against the door. Tom was sitting on the toilet, head in his hands. 

“Do they have to shout, for god's sake, I’m still hungover.” He mumbled. 

“The least you could’ve done was give us some booze,” You said with a bang on the door. 

“You can drink when you’re done fighting.” Emily called back. They then turned the music up loud, which you were kind of grateful for. The bathroom door was thin and if you did end up talking, you didn’t want them overhearing. 

“We should probably-” 

“You hurt my feelings.” He said and looked at you. That was the last thing you were expecting. 

“What did I do to hurt your feelings?” 

“What you said about me being with so many different girls. We’re friends and I wasn’t trying to sleep with you, and it hurt my feelings that you assumed that.” 

“Well you asked to kiss me, so can you blame me for assuming that?!”

“It was a GAME Y/N! Relax, god, why do you take everything so seriously?” 

“I don’t!” 

“Yes, you do! You’re incapable of fucking around, you can’t even kiss someone without turning it into this big thing! You’re not even my type for fucks sake. You take everything so fucking seriously, it’s exhausting being your friend.” You were both standing now, getting closer to each other with every shout. 

“I do not.” You said. 

“Prove it.” He said and that smirk was back on his lips. 

You did the first thing that came to your mind. You kissed him. To prove it meant nothing to you. 

At first he was shocked with what you were doing, but soon he was wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling your body against his and slipping his tongue into your mouth. You felt his hands on your hip bones, pushing your body against the cold tile wall. 

You made out with him for just a few more seconds before grabbing his shoulders, flipping the two of you so he was against the wall, and pulling away. 

“I told you.” You said with a smile, your face still mere inches from him. “See? Meant nothing.”

You turned and pounded on the door saying “Guys! We figured it out, I promise.” A few seconds later the couch was pulled away and you were leaving the room, Tom following you. 

“So did you guys make up?” Emily asked. 

“What?! No!” Tom said defensively. 

“Idiot, she said make up. Yes, we are no longer feuding.” 

Your friends each sent you a look, saying that they knew exactly what must’ve happened in that bathroom that you were hiding. 

“Let’s play some poker.” You said and sat as far away from Tom as you could as Cal dealt the cards. 

* * *

It was late when your friends were leaving. You did indeed have another snow day, which was really nice. Everyone left but Tom. 

“I figured we should actually talk.” Tom said. “Plus I didn’t give Harrison and Emily any time last night and he was real pissed, so if it’s ok, I wanna give them some space.”

“That’s fine.” You said and pulled your legs underneath you. You were sitting on the corner of the couch, with Tom on your bed. “What did you want to talk about?” 

“That kiss, for starters.” 

“That kiss meant nothing, I was just fucking around like you said. No big deal.” You thought you saw a sad look on his face, but you must’ve been imagining it. 

“Good because if you catch feelings for me, we’re gonna have a problem.” He said in his best ‘tough guy’ voice. You laughed. 

“Relax, Holland, you’re the last person on earth I would ever have feelings for.” 

“Good.”

“Good.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” You were silent for a few minutes. “And I’m sorry.” You said breaking the silence. 

“For what?” 

“For what I said last night. That wasn’t fair to you. What you do with women is none of my business, you’re a good friend and that’s all that matters.” You smiled at him. 

“Thanks. You’re forgiven.” He responded.

“Good, or else it would be really awkward having to spend time together while you were sexiled.” He laughed, which made you smile. You loved his laugh, the way his eyes scrunched together and he shook his head from side to side. 

“Should we watch a movie?” You asked. 

“Sure.” He said and patted the bed next to him. 

“Uhm, I’m gonna put on some PJs.” You said, despite being in comfortable clothes. Maybe you wanted to fuck with him, maybe you wanted to seduce him, maybe you just wanted to change. Maybe all of the above. 

You went to your dresser, your back to the bed and Tom. You pulled your sweatshirt off, tossing it to the side. You unclipped your lace bralette and slid it off your arms slowly. You found a tank top and put it on.

You slipped your sweats off, and you had just a pair of boy shorts on underneath. You turned back and saw Tom staring at you. 

You didn’t acknowledge him, you just climbed onto the bed next to him and grabbed the TV remote so you could watch a movie. 

“God, you’re insufferable, Y/N.” 

“What do you mean?” You said innocently as you scrolled through netflix. 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” 

“No I don’t.” 

“That outfit?” 

“What about it? It’s just pajamas. Besides, you said I’m not your type, you really shouldn’t have any problem with it.”

“That doesn’t mean...”

“What?” You asked.  

“I’m still a guy.” He said. 

“Really?” You mocked. 

“Yes, god Y/N, stop being ridiculous.” 

“I really have no idea what you’re talking about.” You said as you picked a chick flick, To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. 

“Fine, Y/L/N.” He said. He pulled his shirt off quickly and you found yourself staring as he flexed his abs. He pulled his gray sweatpants down so they were sitting low on his hips and he ran his hand through his hair. 

“What?” He said, mocking you now. 

You took a deep breath, sticking out your chest as you did so, trying to get back at him. 

“Are you cold?” He asked genuinely a few moments later. You nodded, it was as if he was reading your mind. “Here,” he said and pulled the comforter from underneath you and then threw it over the two of you. 

“You know,” you said after a few minutes. “I’m still a little chilly.” You scooted closer to Tom, who you weren’t previously touching. You leaned on him, putting your leg in between his and your hand on his chest. You let out a little sigh, and you could tell you were driving him crazy. 

His arm was around you now and you felt it travel down your back, resting on your ass. 

“Can’t keep your hands to yourself, Holland?” You teased. 

“Force of habit.” He muttered, but kept his hand where it was. 

You started to feel the alcohol taking over. He was so warm, and so close… 

You put the thought to the back of your mind and tried to focus on the movie. Before you realized it, you were slowly closing your eyes, leaning onto Tom for warmth. You got closer still, your bodies completely entangled, and he didn’t pull away. 

He should’ve pulled away. 

[lesbianfreyja]

wait I didn’t scroll far enough....41 and/or 61 too 👀

and 2 more 41s requested by anons!!! endless 41s!!!!!! so, by popular demand:

41. I’m not drunk enough for this.

+ 61. I told you not to fall in love with me.

-

Mac kicked his feet at himunder the table. Dennis trapped one of Mac’s wandering ankles between both hisown. Mac twisted it around unsuccessfully for a minute before yanking it free,glowering fiercely.

“Time to behave, you stupidasshole,” Dennis muttered, under the guise of a very bright smile. “This iswhat we’ve been training for. Don’t ruin it with a hissy fit.”

“I’m not having a — I don’thave fits, Dennis,” said Mac, frowninginto his coffee. “I’m just pissed off that they don’t have blueberry pancakes.They said they got their fruits fresh every morning on the website!”

“Well, tough titties,” saidDennis. “Life isn’t always like it says on the internet, okay? Now behave. Yourpouting is ruining our whole married vibe that we’re trying to put out there.You’re gonna blow this for us, and then we don’t have anything else to do for twomore hours.”

“Why did Dee have to meet withthose surrogate bitches in the afternoon?”

Mac stabbed at thecomplimentary granola and yogurt with the business end of his spoon. Dennis hadpreviously not been aware that somebody could eat breakfast with this level ofsulk, but then he had never met someone stupid enough to say no when Mac askedfor blueberry pancakes.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s good practice,”said Dennis airily. “Now we have some extra time to get into our roles, right?”

He waved his napkin out as heunwrapped his utensils and smoothed it over his lap. Mac had his crumpled inhis fist, although he was still using his arm to wipe off his face anyway wheneverthe outside of his mouth got stained with coffee. In an effort to keep itoccupied so as to force him to use the napkin, Dennis reached out and took Mac’sfree hand firmly over the table. He smiled a bit softly, squeezing his hand. Macrolled his eyes.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,”he mumbled. Looking around, he flagged down their waiter and ordered a shot ofKahlua for his coffee.

“Jesus Christ, you are bad at this,” said Dennis after their waiter walkedaway.

“What?” said Mac. “You loveKahlua in your coffee.”

“Yes, I do,” Dennis agreed. “But I don’t really take Vic and Hugh for themorning drinker types, do you?”

“Oh, right.” Mac frowned into hisblack coffee. “Sorry, Dennis.”

Dennis rolled his eyes.

“How many times do I have totell you?” he asked, squeezing Mac’s hand again for emphasis. “The whole pointof this is to settle into our personas, Vic.I’d appreciate it if you would call me by my correct name.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry, Hugh.”

Dennis sighed and broke into someof the toast on his plate. It was crazy how much better he was at acting thanMac, but at least now he was trying. He let go of Mac’s hand to reach for aknife.

“Can you pass me the butter?”

“Sure thing, babe.”

Dennis started to mumble his thanks,then did a double-take. Mac was grinning at him across the table, and after asecond Dennis’s hackles went back down and he reluctantly smiled.

“That’s more like it,” hemurmured, spreading the butter out on his toast.

Mac was still smiling goofilyat him, no matter how much Dennis snapped at him to stop, when the waiter returnedwith the Kahlua. Even though he gave Mac shit for it earlier, spiked coffee didsound good. He grabbed it off the table before Mac could make a move for it, thenpoured a generous amount into both of their cups.

“What are you doing?” asked Mac,but he didn’t sound angry with him for having the bottle snatched away from hiscontrol, just surprised. He leaned back in his seat to avoid the splash zone.

“Treating my husband tobreakfast,” said Dennis lightly. He kept his eyes trained on the Kahlua as heset it back down on a flat surface, but pink was rising in his cheeks and hecould feel Mac’s widened eyes on him. Dennis looked up — bravely, he felt, andwith a stoic face to boot. “I believe this is how Hugh Honey acts when he’s outwith his, uh—”

“Trophy husband,” Mac supplied.Dennis flushed but couldn’t stop himself from smiling a little.

“Right,” mumbled Dennis,ducking his head back down.

He didn’t usually like coffeethis strong, but he had the urge to chug it all back at once. The cup wasmostly empty when the waiter finally came by with their food, and he declined arefill. When he next looked up, Mac was already wolfing down his (tragicallyplain) pancakes with alarming and unattractive speed; Dennis sniffed and pokedhis fork around his scrambled eggs, looking around for Tabasco to steal from anearby table.

“Can I have a bite of that?”Mac asked as soon as he’d doused it, and his fork prodded its way into Dennis’sview. He looked up to see Mac watching him with an open expression and hashbrown in his teeth.

“No way,” said Dennis, edging Mac’sfork out of the way with his own. “After you had a meltdown over blueberriesearlier and called me a stupid bitch for wanting eggs?”

“Aw, come on,” said Mac. “Hugh wouldtotally give me some eggs, bro.”

Dennis’s eyes narrowed as theystared each other down across the table. With a sigh, Dennis stopped blockinghim and pushed his plate over.

“Goddamn it,” he sighed. “That’sa good point.”

“Ha!” said Mac, stabbing whatappeared to be half the plate onto his tines and shoving it all in his puffycheeks. “This is exactly what you were talking about, I think.”

“What do you mean?”

“You remember, Hugh?” he asked,looking up at him. His eyes were wide and bright, sparking; Dennis felt heatcrawl across the back of his neck, and he was glad he was wearing a polo shirtto cover it up. He kept his face impassive, but Mac was leaning forward eagerlyanyway. “It’s like you said on our first date. When you finally wore me downafter asking for, like, months.”

Dennis arched an eyebrow,amused.

“Is that what happened?” he askedmildly.

“Oh yeah, bro! Of course youwere putting the moves on me. But you’re kinda charming, so eventually I saidyes.” Mac rolled his eyes. “Back then you were just a lonely billionaire with adream, but I was the working classguy with the background in real estate helping you get your business off theground. You were, like, immediately hittingon me, dude. Just like always. So anyway, finally I went out with you, and I wasannoyed because of how much walkingthere turned out to be in golf! And you said—”

When Dennis was a junior incollege, Mac came up to visit for a weekend. For once, he’d been without Charlie,who had had plans — or maybe he’d been sleeping, or too stoned to show up, or justhadn’t felt like it. Dennis couldn’t remember anymore; it hadn’t beenimportant, even at the time. Mac had shown up at his door with some prettypotent LSD, and they’d trekked into the woods off-campus while it melted ontheir tongue until it kicked in, and they’d spent hours getting lost out there.

Mac was still antsy when they startedcoming down, and they cleaned up and ordered food, but he didn’t want to staycooped up any later than it took to down a  big order of wings. Dennis drove them to afair a little ways out of town, and they spent hours riding everything there,in between sneaking into the drinks tent to get wasted; Dennis threw up on thetilt-a-whirl, and Mac had to spend the last of his pocket money on ginger ale. Whenthey were sitting on a park bench, waiting for Dennis’s stomach to settle, Mac gotfrustrated and he asked, “You know you’re a real fucking expensive date, huh?”and he didn’t mean it that way but Dennis was still feeling a little off-kilterfrom the LSD and the beer and he smirked up at Mac and said—

“I told you not to fall in lovewith me,” Dennis murmured. It came a little bit mechanically. He coughed. “Vic.”

His throat felt closed up, andhe couldn’t even bring himself to get angry at Mac for throwing in details oftheir fake marriage that they hadn’t previously agreed on. Hugh and Vic’s firstdate was supposed to have been to a wine tasting in Napa Valley. He was alittle surprised, that was all, that Mac remembered something that had happenedthat long ago on a day where he hadn’t been sober. And that maybe he thoughtabout the same way that Dennis did.

Dennis swallowed, pushing thatthought away, but he looked at him with his lips parted. Mac was fixated on hisbrunch again, though, and not paying him any mind; but a small smile was stillplaying on his lips.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” said Mac,digging back into his food.

Something was glowing rose-goldin Dennis’s chest as he stilled. He just watched Mac eat for a long moment,barely reacting to the sticky mess he was making or what he was talking about. Atsome point, Mac glanced up with his mouth still full and caught him in the act.Dennis bit his lip, and Mac only missed a beat before he kicked Dennis in theankle again.

“Get eating,” he instructed. “We’veonly got two hours to make it downtown and we still have to catch a bus.”

Mac understood him most of thetime, fundamentally. He knew what not to mention and when to divert a conversation.Maybe it was just his bossiness flaring up in him, wanting the attention and todomineer the conversation, but whatever it was Dennis felt grateful.

Hiding his own warm smile — strangeand terrifying and also the most natural and familiar thing in the world — Denniswent back to his brunch.

[thorne93]

First Impression (Part 18 - FINAL)

Prompt: Imagine your friend, Anthony Mackie, brings you with him to an event and introduces you to his friend, Sebastian, who’s blown away by you. He immediately starts flirting and acting silly because you make him nervous and he just wants to impress you

Warnings: flirting (adult style), language (always, with me, come on), and drama (later on in the fic)

Word Count: 1723

Notes: If anyone has kids or wives out of the celebrities mentioned, in this universe, they sort of don’t exist….Just for the sake of keeping it concise. Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes (because shes perfectly amazing) and I could NOT, not, just not have done any of this at all without my amazing girl, @amarvelouswritings

So this is it. Thank you to everyone who supported this fic and kept up with it. I love all of you! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I loved writing it. This last part isn’t beta’d so if it’s messed up, that’s on me.

Forever Tags: @amarvelouswritings @cocosierra94 @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527 @myparadise1982sand @missinstantgratification @thejulesworld @rda1989 @marvelloushamilton @munlis  @bubblyanarocks3​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @hardcollectionworldtrash @igiveupicantthinkofausername @kaliforniacoastalteens​

Sebastian Stan Tag: @nedthegay @lostinspace33 @alwayshave-faith @elleatrixlestrange @buenostardissherlock  @lenawiinchester​ @the-red-world-of-jess-chibi​ @memory-of-a-goldfish

Chris Evans Tag (Normally wouldn’t, but he’s featured a lot): @nedthegay​ @camigt1999​  @lostinspace33​​ @alwayshave-faith​ @elleatrixlestrange

First Impressions Tag: @goodnightwife​​ @spacemarkimoo​ @masha-meow01​ @axelinchen @smuoooshie​ @hollycornish @seargantbcky @mellsstark @lyfewithtrish @cinema212 @sophiealiice @yes-this-is-doggo @sky-weirdo @feelmyroarrrr @devil-may-cry-11-blog

~~~~~~~~~~

He drove around LA all night, trying to clear his head. He had no idea what to do or say to you. What he said back at your apartment was a dick move. He wanted you. Of course he still wanted you. But at this point, all these months later, he felt you were at a point of no return. There was no coming back from all of this. There was too much damage, too much bad karma, too many bad vibes between you and him.

It hurt to know that you didn’t trust him. But could he blame you? No. You’d been fucked over by partners just as he had been. It wasn’t your fault that yet again, it looked like someone screwed you over, used your heart as a toy. You were simply reacting the best way you knew how - with anger. Maybe if you acted like a bitch, or acted fierce, people would back off and leave you alone.

The only problem was, he didn’t want to leave you alone. But he wasn’t going to keep reopening this wound for you. That was cruel and unfair to both of you. As much as it killed him, he needed to let you go.

He made the preparations and dropped the envelope at your door.

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

You went to go let Rocky out, when you saw the envelope. It had your name on it with no postage so you knew it wasn’t sent. Frowning, you picked it up and carried the envelope and Rocky back inside.

“Hang on, bud,” you said sweetly as you sat on the couch and opened it.

“Y/N,

I know me writing this is sort of old fashioned, but seeing as when we are face to face, fury flies, and over text or over the phone is unacceptable, I’m opting for this. First off, I’m sorry about what Marissa sent you. She really did come to my apartment to grab some things, I was running late for my flight but I let her in really quick, being nice, to grab her stuff and get out. That’s what I get for being nice, right? She took my phone when I wasn’t looking, and did something petty and childish. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Bee or Chris, I called my phone in front of them and confirmed she has it. I have full intentions to retrieve my phone after I drop this letter off and make sure she never comes around me or you or anyone I know ever again. I had no right to say what I said to you about Hayden. I was just angry and upset that you didn’t believe me about Marissa, but I don’t blame you. I wasn’t exactly honest. I have a pretty good idea why you did what you did with him, but regardless, it’s none of my business what you did or didn’t do with him. We weren’t together so you were free to make your own choices.

Y/N, I still care for you. Fuck it. I love you. I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you. I didn’t want to tell you like this, but I’m afraid this might be the only way. I’m afraid that you’ll be angry with me for a while, and by the time your anger subsides, you’ll be too hurt to want to talk to me. And I’ll understand because I’ll be in the same boat. I’m so in love with you, Y/N, it fucking hurts. Every time I saw you distancing yourself from me, I wanted to scream and beg for you to come back, but I knew that wouldn’t make you stay….I knew you needed to come to me on your own.

Although I love you, I think we can both agree trying to be together has been a tough start. I think we’ve both endured a lot. More than enough heartache to last a lifetime trying to be together. I’m not saying I don’t want to be with you. Far from it. I’m just saying, if you want to just break all of this off and go back to being friends and professionalism, I would understand and respect that.

You once told me you were afraid you’d never be good enough, and I know after all the guys who have left you and broken your heart, that it probably only fuels your fear. I’m going to tell you, you’re more than good enough. In fact, I don’t deserve you. You deserve someone so much better than me and all the assholes you’ve been with. You deserve happiness, and I think by letting you go, I’m giving you that. Selfishly, yes, I would love to be with you, but Y/N...that isn’t fair to you.

Inside with this letter should be a list of contact information and names. I reached out to several people I knew and some new people to gather some info on your sanctuary. Each one of them has a different role that can help you. Basically, I’m giving you the tools to start it whenever you want, they’re aware of what you’re wanting, willing to donate towards it and make it nonprofit and basically it’s ready to go. Everyone I spoke to is on board and supportive of this.

I was going to give you this as a gift, as a sign that no matter what you do, no matter where life takes you, I will always be by your side, happy and supportive. A way to say I was in it for the long haul, no matter what your path was, no matter how many hours your poured your beautiful heart into a project, I will never hold it against you. As I stated though, I feel it’s time I let you go, so you can move on with whoever your heart desires. I wanted to give you this anyway, because you deserve to follow your dreams. Don’t wait too long on them, okay?

I love you.

Pentru totdeauna al tau

Sebastian”

A tear hit the paper as you sniffed. You don’t know when you started to cry, but here were all these salty tears hitting the paper that Sebastian had hand written on. You looked at the other papers and sure enough, there were names, contact info, and what they could do to help you get your sanctuary started.

“You should go to him,” Hayden quietly said.

Your eyes flashed to him, standing across the apartment. You had no idea how long he’d been there.

“Hayden...He...He gave me everything to start the sanctuary and…” you sobbed.

He closed the gap between you, kneeling in front of you, taking the letters away from you, the tears flowing down your face. He wiped the tears away with his thumbs.

“Go to him. I don’t care what the letter said. I don’t care what you think he means. Go find that Romanian bastard, tell him you love him, and for god’s sake, kiss the fucker,” he instructed with a smile.

“But...I--”

“No buts. Go. I’m going to take Rocky for his walk, and when you return, you better be with him.”

You nodded as you stood up, went to get properly dressed, brushed through your bedhead hair, and left, kissing Hayden’s cheek and thanking him.

You drove all the way to his apartment but he wasn't there. You could’ve called him but you were worried he didn’t have his phone and you didn’t want to talk to the evil skank. You called Bee.

“Hey, do you know where Sebastian is?” you asked once she answered.

“Yeah, he’s here at our house. Why?”

“I need to see him. Keep him there.”

“Got it.”

“Thanks.”

You hung up and sped your way through the city to their home. Finally, after a heart racing ride over, you arrived at their house. You launched out of the car, ran up to the door, and knocked. Bee immediately let you in and you saw Sebastian on the sofa, his arms on his knees as Chris sat in the adjacent chair, watching his best friend.

“Y/N?” he asked as he turned to see you and stood up. You wasted no time crossing the wide open floor plan to reach him. As soon as you were within one inch of him, you reached up and pulled his head down to yours as you locked your mouth with his, fiercely. He picked you up and kissed you back. The sensation burning through you as if you were born to do this.

All too soon, he sat you down on your feet, releasing the kiss.

“Does this mean you’re not mad at me anymore?” he asked, the question trailing in the air between you two.

“Sebastian,” you started, laughing through happy tears. “I’m not mad at you any more.”

“And...you want to be together?”

“I would rather spend one perfect day with you and have you break my heart than spend a miserable lifetime without you. I love you, too.”

It was then that he grinned the widest, happiest grin you’d ever seen on him as he picked you up and twirled you before kissing you again. Somewhere, in the background you heard Bee cheering for you both, happy to see that you finally got the man you were destined to be with.

You’d been told from a young age, first impressions are everything. They can make or break a job interview, build up how future friends or lovers see you, determine who can be a fan or not. So yes, a great deal of how you interact and communicate in this world comes from first impressions. Did you know that the moment you laid eyes on the most breathtakingly kind, handsome, caring, sweet, and funny man you’d ever met that you would fall in love with him? Possibly. Did he know it? Possibly.

But one thing first impressions don’t tell you -- and that’s the ending. You never know where you’ll end up based on that first look, that first intake of air when your eyes meet, that first heart stopping moment. First impressions can tell you a lot, but they couldn’t tell you just how inexplicably happy you would end up.

[thesportssoundoff]

“Yo, this is appointment viewing”A UFC 218 preview

Joey

November 28th

Not since LAST November-December have we had two genuinely stacked PPV events back to back. UFC 217 brought the sizzle with three title fights, former champions and title contenders competing for standing and a loaded prelim slate with HWs and BWs looking to find their place in the world. UFC 218 heads to Detroit with just one title fight but with it a host of potential #1 contender clashes alongside a flat out good undercard with relevant fights and action fights all across the ledger. The headliner is a short notice clash between Max Holloway and Jose Aldo, a pretty damn good 145 lb title fight that could either solidify Max Holloway as a P4P great or reannounce Jose Aldo's return to the top of the division. Under it, all four main cards are REALLY on point with potential #1 contender clashes at HW, LW, Flyweight and SW. I can't begin to express my excitement for this bad boy much longer so let's just get right to it!

Fights: 13

Debuts: 1 (Allan Crowder)

Fight Changes/Injury Cancellations: 2 (Frankie Edgar OUT, Jose Aldo IN vs Max Holloway/Al Iaquinta OUT,  Charles Oliveira IN vs Paul Felder)

Headliners (fighters who have either main evented or co-main evented shows in the UFC):  13 (Jose Aldo, Max Holloway, Justin Gaethje, Eddie Alvarez, Alistair Overeem, Henry Cejudo, Sergio Pettis, Francis Ngannou, Michelle Waterson, Tecia Torres, Charles Oliveira, Alex Olivieira, David Teymur)

Fighters On Losing Streaks in the UFC:  1 (Angela Magana)

Fighters On Winning Streaks in the UFC:  11 (Sergio Pettis, Felice Herrig, David Teymur, Drakkar Klose, Alex Olivieira, Yancy Medeiros, Paul Felder, Tecia Torres, Max Holloway, Francis Ngannou, Alistair Overeem)

Stat Monitor for 2017:

Debuting Fighters (Current number: 41-35)- Allan Crowder

Short Notice Fighters (Current number: 23-34-1)- Jose Aldo, Charles Olivieira

Second Fight (Current number: 27-37)- Justin Willis, Dominick Reyes, Sabah Homasi

Cage Corrosion (18-13-1)- 0

Twelve Precarious Ponderings

1- We should begin with the main event which in my estimation an improvement over the Edgar/Holloway booking. To explain, while Edgar/Holloway is a fresh fight and one that would've been truly awesome, we've seen Frankie lose to Aldo twice. Aldo is the superior fighter of that we have no doubt---and so seeing Holloway/Aldo II isn't as fresh but it is a better all around fight. The first fight in my estimation is one of those clear examples of "sometimes stats lie, man." Everybody, almost like a chorus of geese on a cold Winnipeg morning, honks about Aldo winning the first two rounds and that's true but also irrelevant. Why? Because if you WATCH the fight, you can tell that the second round was a round where stats lie. Halloway had no respect for Aldo's power, he marched him down, he took to give (in my opinion he won the round) and by the end of the second round, their respective reactions heading back to their corners should've told you who was winning or about to win that fight. It wasn't Aldo.

2- I also don't buy the idea that leg kicks are some vaunted weapon which has been missing from Aldo's game and will be some deciding factor. For starters, it's not Holloway hasn't faced explosive kickers in the past. Second, it's not Aldo's leg kicks are the key weapon to what was his dominant run to begin with. They're a tool in the act but no more a tool than his amazing takedown defense and superb angles. LASTLY this is a guy who has been rocked/dropped in 3 of his last 4 fights. He's been finished in 2 of them. The only guy who hasn't finished him is a guy who has one KO stoppage in the last six years (love ya Frankie!). Aldo has plenty of ways to beat Holloway and Holloway has plenty of ways to beat him in return---but leg kicks? Not really seeing it. Aldo hasn't been this big leg kick monster since about 2013 or so. They're a sparsely used gimmick at this point.

3- I wonder if the UFC is as frustrated at the 155 lb scene as we are as fans. We have:

-A champion who doesn't seem like he's defending any time soon.

-An interim champion who seems to be torn between waiting for the neverending stop of the McGregor/UFC table dance and taking a fight that risks him losing the biggest payday of his life.

-Two fantastic 155 lb fights that could determine #1 contenders for titles that don't seem to be getting defended any time soon.

-Dustin Poirier sitting on the outside looking in after dominating Anthony Pettis plus depending on who you ask finishing/almost finishing Eddie Alvarez.

Making matters worser than the worst worse, you have Nate Diaz potentially malingering around, the looming threat of Max Holloway or Jose Aldo finally making a move up as well as a solid crop of 155 lb talent who aren't close to title shot contention but would in theory be closing the gap if the division wasn't held up at the top so much (the aforementioned Paul Felder, a suddenly resurgent Clay Guida, Anthony Pettis is still young enough to turn things around, too too early to write off Michael Chiesa and Kevin Lee after tough losses, Devid Teymur and the mystery that is Mairbek Taisumov).  At some point something has to give along these battle lines and I wonder if that means biting the bullet, admitting that there's a need for it and opening up 165 lbs.

3- I do think, title contention wise, it says something that Alvarez/Gaethje is 4th on the card underneath Pettis/Cejudo when it comes to relevancy. Could be nothing, could mean everything.

4- There's a lot of hype and pressure on Francis Ngannou. That's probably well deserved but as I've said perhaps one time too many, don't get caught up in the narrative if he loses. Once upon a time, Stipe Miocic got his first real big step up and he was iced in two rounds by Stefan Struve. Shawn Jordan once put Derrick Lewis on ice skates with a fat guy wheel kick. This will shock and amaze you but fighters do improve over time and at HW, nobody is ever truly a lost cause. Division lives for chaos.

5- I know I'm the weirdo in this regard but I'm really excited to see how Sergio Pettis handles the challenge that is Henry Cejudo. Of all the Duke Roufus products, Sergio is the one who seems to most fit the mold of what they want. Functional in every facet of the fight while still having the flash, sizzle and workrate to keep people interested. Cejudo's rediscovered his power recently and his boxing has looked world's better. I have cardio concerns with him as you always need to but Sergio Pettis has always had an aversion to guys who pack a shot on the feet. This fight could be really great.

6- Paul Felder's stock, which continues to go up and down depending on the time of year, is probably as high as it's been since he iced Danny Castillo way back in 2014. Felder has always been really talented but at 33, the clock's ticking on him really making a run. He's won 4 of his last 5 fights but the only guy who remains int he organization out of that group is Stevie Ray. His losses are two totally acceptable ones (a decision to Barboza where he could've probably won, a 3rd round TKO stoppage vs Francisco Trinaldo in Brazil) and one totally bemusing loss to Ross Pearson where he spun for the entire fight chasing a bonus and never got it. Felder's inconsistency is partially the reason why it's hard to feel overly confident in him vs Charles Olivieira. Do Bronx is always dangerous for a quickie sub and he showed that vs Will Brooks when he got his back and subbed him in the first round in April. Historically Charles has won to the guys he's supposed to beat and found creative insightful ways to lose to the guys he shouldn't. He's always in a fight until it's over and Felder historically leaves enough margin for error where  he could, in theory, give Do Bronx opportunities.

7- David Teymur thus far has passed every test put in front of him. He was successful in TKO-ing guys who he probably would've been fighting on the regional scene and then really broke out when he spoiled the Lando Vannata hype with a decision win in March. Teymur is one of those guys who mixes techniques well, never tries the same trick twice and has improved time and time again whenever he fights. He's a bit old for a prospect (28) and Drakkar Klose will probably be the bigger, stronger fighter but I'm excited to see what Teymur has added to his game during his time away. Dude has top 15 potential in my estimation.

8- There's going to be a lot of interest in the Waterson/Torres fight and fair play to it but I'm all about that Felice Herrig/Courtney Casey bout. I haven't been wow'd in Felice's more recent fights (never really impressed with Kish, thought Grasso won) BUT even having said that, she's finally matching her record with her boisterous personality. On the other hand, I'm all about that Courtney Casey violence. She debuted vs Joanne Calderwood on short notice and put it on her before she gassed. The same for her vs Seo Hee Ham where she started off hot and then the wheels fell off. She rebounded by finishing Christina Stanciu and has a "way more impressive in hindsight" sub of Randa Markos. A loss to Claudia Gadelha followed where she never seemed to get out of second gear and you could almost sense her upside would be "tough woman who lives on the outskirts of the top 10." She then went and beat the fuck out of Jessica Aguilar in a fight that wasn't competitive for a single minute of its duration. She is all action, all the time and Felice Herrig's size, grappling and developing hands are going to give her a real test. This fight is great.

9- Yancy Medeiros vs Alex "Cowboy" Olivieira is gonna be your favorite 90s gore action movie where it's all violence with no sense behind it. Just action figures ramming into one another.

10- Does the Ngannou/Overeem winner gets the "The UFC would like you to face Stipe Miocic on -insert date here-" sprung up on them?

11-  So Dominick Reyes is arguably the most exciting prospect at 205 lbs in a long long time---but I can't help but feel like Jeremy Kimball is going to be a step too far for him in his development. I kind of think the UFC thinks so too since it's buried on the FP prelims where a loss can almost be hidden.

12- Would a loss to Tecia Torres expose Michelle Waterson as being a PVZ-esque hype job?

Must Wins

1- Michelle Waterson

Might as well just flow from A to B, right? Waterson came into the UFC off a loss after the organization had been hounding Invicta to free her up for a while. She went 2-0 and WME-IMG actually signed her and took over as her media reps. The response off of that was a loss to Rose Namajunas where she was outmatched from the get go. Waterson says she went out for a while to get stronger and balance her aggression in the cage (she felt Rose just swarmed her from the jump and she was too timid on the feet) so hopefully we're going to see a new and improved Waterson.  She is still super markketable, talented and has exciting fights more often than not. A loss to Tecia Torres would be really tough on her career and would put a lot of things into question, primarily whether she's big enough for 115 lbs or whether this entire thing is really a new PVZ.

2- Eddie Alvarez

Alvarez exorcised a lot of demons when he beat RDA for the title and ended the bullshit about him just being a good fighter outside of the UFC who couldn't hang (loss to Cerrone and two ugly split decision wins weren't helping). He never had a chance vs McGregor where he was basically knocked out by the first left hand that landed. The last fight vs Dustin Poirier was, I suppose, the return of the Eddie Alvarez of old. He got hurt, survived, found whatever it is that makes him insane and then used it in the second round. A blatantly illegal knee ended the night for Poirier and Alvarez but for a BRIEF second, Eddie Alvarez was the man he was in all those wars. He's had a lot of wear and tear on his body from fighting great competition for little fanfare. The UFC version of Eddie Alvarez is a little smarter, a lot more chinny and the epitome of age kicking in too late to protect the body. Alvarez vs Gaethje really does feel like a battle between Eddie Alvarez retro and Eddie Alvarez off the shelf. Justin Gaethje has a ton of Alvarez in his game while being younger and hitting way harder---but does Eddie still have some magic left?

3- Dominick Reyes

205 lbs needs Dominick Reyes in the worst way. The under 30 LHW prospect got into the UFC on short notice after a viral headkick KO and he did little to disappointed in stomping out Joachim Christenson. Still I think we can admit that Christensen is ways away from being UFC quality and so Reyes still hasn't beaten someone of note. Jeremy Kimball isn't great shakes BUT he has a very deceptive record. He started his career 5-3 and since then he's gone 10-3 which includes a 1-1 stint at Bellator and wins over dudes with far more fanfare than he (TUF finalist Matt Van Buren, Cody Mumma and Chidi Njokuani all ring a bell). This is a sneaky test of Reyes' ability and I'm hoping he'll pass it.

Can't Miss Fights

1-  Justin Gaethje vs Eddie Alvarez

2- Jose Aldo vs Max Holloway

3- Francis Ngannou vs Alistair Overeem

4-Henry Cejudo vs Sergio Pettis

5- Alex  Oliveira vs Yancy Medeiros