#idk i just needed to get this off my head

[withwritersblock]

When You're Ready

~When You're Ready by Shawn Mendes~

Author's Note: requested! not entirely proud of how this turned out but enjoy! italics are flashbacks as always Summary: Luke drunkenly confesses his feelings for his friend. Warnings: ermmmm idk Word Count: 4,275

Luke was drunk, probably the most drunk he’s been since the frat parties back at UMich. He was leaning against the bar, not sleepy but was definitely feeling dizzy. He was only allowed water because Jack was getting protective over him. 

Jack leaned against the wall, in the corner of the bar beside Luke. His phone was against his ear as he was listening to it ring and ring. 

“Jack?” Y/N let out sleepily.

“Hey! Luke is shitfaced right now, I would offer to take care of him but-” Jack paused as a giggle fell from his lips, “I’m also pretty fucking shitfaced and waiting for my girlfriend,” he explained. 

“Is that Y/N? Can I talk to her!” Luke shot up, a wide grin on his lips. Jack nodded, but kept the phone against his own ear. Luke whined as he reached his hand over. 

“I guess he can stay in my guest room. Just give me like twenty minutes,” she mumbled before she hung up the phone. Jack’s lips curled up into a grin as he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

Luke lifted up the glass of water and drank a long sip before he cautiously placed it back down onto the counter. “Y/N is taking you back to her place,” Jack offered as he brought his beer towards his lips.

“Aw man, I missed her. We’ve been traveling so much,” Luke offered as he shook his head slowly. His head moved delayed to either direction. 

“Are you going to tell her?” Jack drunkenly let out while he patted his hand against Luke’s back.

“Will not,” he said simply. 

“C’mon!” Jack pleaded as he continued to hit his hand against Luke’s back. “S-see I knew she li-liked you because she’s coming here at-” he trailed off searching for a clock, “What ever time it is.”

“Don’t want to talk about it, let me drink more booze,”

“No, Lukey you’re cut off,” Jack demanded.

“Me? You’re the one sl-slurring your words!” Luke said, pausing he realized he slurred too. The brothers began giggling.

Jack gasped as he scooted back away from the bartop. He smiled widely as he walked quickly towards his girlfriend entering the bar. “My girlfriend!” he let out happily as he shoved passed many drunk people. She giggled loudly as Jack happily wrapped his arms around her pulling her tightly towards him. “Come on, let’s go,” Jack muttered.

“Let’s wait for Y/N to get Luke,” she mumbled as she met his gaze. Jack groaned as he wandered towards Luke. 

Luke lifted his gaze, clenching his jaw as he smiled towards the pair. “He’s pretty drunk,” Luke observed. She rolled her eyes as she leaned against the bar. Jack rested his hand onto her lower back.

“I figured, thanks Luke,” she let out while laughing. 

Y/N was convinced that this party was going to actually ruin her whole mood. She was not a fan of giant crowds, especially a huge crowd of people whom she barely even knew. 

But Courtney was so sure that she would have fun, despite Courtney knowing everyone there. Well she’s only met a handful of the people at the party a few times but her boyfriend knew everyone. Which meant Courtney knew everyone. She never told Y/N who her new mystery man was. Even though the pair had been going on for months at this point. 

Courtney needed it to be secret, so secret that she would never tell anyone. Courtney and Y/N sat in the back seat of the car as they headed towards her boyfriend’s apartment. 

“So we’re going to his place and then the night club? Can’t we meet there?” Y/N groaned as she leaned her head against the headrest. It was safe to say, she was already tipsy and not in the mood for extra work. 

“You have to meet him,” she argued. 

The Uber pulled off to the side of the road, in front of a building that was definitely out of either of their price range. They stepped out of the Uber and Courtney began walking towards the building like it wasn’t her first time. Y/N stayed put as her eyes scanned the building.

“You forgot to mention he was rich,” Y/N mumbled as her gaze finally landed on Courtney.

“He’s not rich, he has money there is a different,” she explained while wrapping her arm around Y/N’s before she guided them towards the entrance.

“I feel like you just said the same thing,” Y/N mumbled while laughing. Courtney rolled her eyes as they stepped inside of the building. 

The walls were dark blue, with white tile on the floor. There was white curtains from the ceiling to the floor. The dark blue couches look like they’ve never been sat on but they were giant.

“Courtney, you can head straight up,” the doorman said excitedly. 

“Thank you, Danny,” she let out happily as she pressed the up button towards the elevator. 

Y/N leaned towards her, “How often are you here?” she whispered.

“Often,” she mumbled. 

The elevator ride was fast as they were only heading up a handful of floors. The fifth floor was the same decor as the lobby but less extravagant. The walk to the apartment was fast as it was only three doors down. She knocked four times. 

After a few seconds, the door was swung open and to Y/N’s surprise it was John Marino. “This is John?” Y/N let out quietly.

The music poured into the hallway. The music was not usual party music but it was loud and music she usually enjoys.

“Hey baby,” John let out as he reached towards Courtney, he wrapped his arms around her. Pulling her towards him, he smiled towards Y/N, “Y/N, it’s great to finally meet you,” John said as he motioned for her to step inside. Slowly, she walked inside beside John and Courtney. 

“Nice to-uh meet you too,” she let out shyly. Her eyes started to scan the room noticing two more Devils players sitting around the room. One with a gorgeous blonde girl in his lap and the other was sitting on a couch by himself. She wished she was not fan girling while in the room but she was. 

Luke Hughes looked up, meeting her gaze. She felt her heart jump in her chest as she met his gaze. His cheeks pinked up but he quickly shifted his gaze down towards his phone. 

Courtney slipped away from John’s grasp and walked back towards Y/N. She wrapped her arm around Y/N’s. “You should’ve brought up the whole Devils player thing,” she whispered, her gaze shifting around the room.

Luke’s eyes widened as a grin formed to his lips. He saw Y/N enter the bar. Jack’s girlfriend wandered towards her, leaving the boys to themselves.

“How bad is it?” Y/N asked teasingly. 

“They’re trashed,” she said simply. Y/N tossed her head back while laughing. 

“Alright, I’ll go take care of Luke,” Y/N let out, a smile on her lips. Jack’s girlfriend’s eyebrows raised as she held a smirk on her lips. “Oh shush,” she muttered as she pushed through the crowd to reach Luke. He was resting his head on his hands, his eyes starting to shut.

A sleepy smirk formed to his lips as his eyes were open slightly. “Y/N, you came!” he let out excitedly. “I’ve missed you,” he let out. She rolled her eyes as she stood in front of him. Resting her hand onto the bartop, she tilted her head to the side to try and meet his gaze. 

Jack and his girlfriend had already slipped out of the bar, leaving Y/N and Luke alone. 

“And you’re in your pajamas,” he observed, his sleepy gaze scanned her frame. Her body was covered with an old thin long sleeve top with a pair of sweatpants. She took a hold of his arm, helping him stand. He leaned against her, using her to help him walk.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” she mumbled as they continued through the bar, shoving through people to go to the entrance.

It was a quick and easy exit out of the bar, her car was parked directly on the street. Luke was still using her to help guide him as he walked. “You’re a great person, Y/N,” he mumbled.

“Thank you, Luke,” she mumbled while laughing. Slowly pulling away from him, he stood on his own. Stepping back, she tilted her head to the side meeting his gaze. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he leaned his head back. His lips curled upward slightly as he admired her frame. “What?” she let out shyly.

“You look beautiful,” he mumbled. Y/N smiled softly, knowing the words leaving his lips were drunken thoughts. “I meant as a friend, you know like because fri-friends can say that stuff. Can th-they say stuff like that?” he ranted nervously.

“Friends can call each other beautiful,” Y/N said as she met his gaze. He smirked as he ran his tongue across his lips.

“Well then,” he muttered as he took a step towards her, “How come you never called me beautiful?” he teased.

She rolled her eyes playfully as she pursed her lips forward, “You’re very beautiful, Luke,” she let out. His lips curled up into a toothy grin.

“Thank you,” he sing-songed. 

She met his gaze and watched the drunkenness take over in his eyes. With each blink it was evident he was getting more and more exhausted. She ran her fingers through her hair as she pointed towards the passenger seat door.

“You going to get in the car?” she asked him teasingly. He took a small step towards her. Biting his bottom lip, he was taking in a deep breath. “I mean I did practically carry you out of the bar,”

“You did not,” 

“I absolutely did, walk in a straight line right now,” she let out laughing. He straightened his body as he confidently walking towards the passenger seat of the car. 

His steps were definitely not in a straight line but as he leaned against the car door, he nodded proudly. 

“Wow, that was horrible,” she teased. 

Dropping his gaze to the concrete, he shook his head while chuckling. “Yeah, n-not my best work,” he said as he flung his head back up. He pulled on the door handle, opening the door. Smiling towards him she excitedly walked around towards the driver’s side of the car.

Y/N sat down on the couch beside Courtney. Her and John were not sitting close, almost on purpose to push her towards Luke. He lifted his gaze from his phone a handful of times to meet her gaze. Shyly, she avoided his eye as much as possible.

It started to feel like a set up. Everyone was in their own couple. It left Luke and Y/N to talk. Except they were not doing much talking.

Y/N was still freaking out that she was sat beside him and he was freaking out because if Jack and John were setting him up with someone, she could’ve been a little less hot. 

A little less intimidating because he couldn’t focus.

Or maybe it was because there was too much alcohol in his system, he couldn’t tell.

He knew he would get made fun of for the whole night if he didn’t speak to her but right now it was too intimate. 

“Okay, our Ubers are here,” Jack jumped up, keeping his hand loosely around his girlfriend’s waist. 

John did the same thing. Luke and Y/N stood up, sharing awkward glances. They both started walking towards the exit, side by side.

Reaching towards the door, he pulled it open, she smiled politely towards him. He slowly shut the door behind him and they continued down the hallway.

“Are we being set up?” she asked, pointing her finger between herself and him. Luke let out a nervous chuckle as he shoved his hands into his pocket.

“I wish I knew,” Luke rolled his eyes playfully, “With those two who knows.”

He pressed his lips together as he met her gaze for a few seconds. 

“I wish I knew my roommate was dating one of you guys, that would have been a nice heads up,” she explained.

“Wait, Court and John have been together for almost four months and you had no idea,” Luke questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. She nodded dramatically. “How did you not know, you guys live together?” he let out while laughing. 

She took a deep breath as she fought the smirk forming to her lips, “It just so happens that I grew up a huge Devils fan,” she mumbled. Luke’s eyes widened as he grinned. 

“Oh so you’ve been silently freaking out since you stepped into the door,” he teased.

“Have not,” she muttered crossing her arms over her chest.

“You want an autograph?” he teased. She shoved him away from her while laughing.

She happily sat down in the driver seat and quickly turned on her car. Heat blasted through the vents to warm the cold air inside of the car. Luke was watching her every move, his eyes dragged as he scanned her frame.

She stared towards her phone as she tried to find the perfect playlist. She played her own favorites mix before she rested it into an empty cup holder. Putting the car into drive, she pulled away from the bar. 

“You need my address?” he asked before swallowing hard. She glanced towards him, smirking slightly before she looked back towards the road. He pressed his lips together while shutting his eyes.

“I think I got it,” she let out laughing.

Furrowing his eyebrows harshly, he tilted his head back against the headrest, “I can’t believe you went to the bar in your pajamas,”

Her mouth fell open as she fought off the grin forming to her lips, ‘Clearly you’ve forgotten, I was asleep!”

“Right,” he muttered. He stared towards his hands as he took in long breaths. She pulled up to a red light, shifting her gaze towards him. 

“What’s on your mind?” she mumbled. He shrugged as he continued to stare down towards his lap, “Luke?” she asked again. 

It was a fast friendship. It seemed like out of no where they were inseparable. Ever since that night at the club, where they drunkenly danced together the whole night they’ve been inseparable. 

Tonight was no different, Luke was coming home from a game where they lost. He was not in a great mood but he knew that Y/N could make him feel better. Ever since he met her, he found himself gravitating towards her whenever he was in a bad mood. Whenever he was sad she made him feel better. 

He texted her that he was waiting outside of her apartment and she happily shot up from her couch. She walked towards the door pulling it open to reveal Luke. He was wearing a hoodie and a pair of sweats as he walked inside, holding his arms open.  She smiled towards him as he wrapped his arms around him. Sinking into his chest, she let the door shut behind him. 

“Is Courtney here?” he asked as he rested his hand onto the back of her head as he caressed her hair. Shaking her head, she slowly pulled away from him. “Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here?” 

“Always,” she mumbled as she met his gaze for a few seconds before she began to walk backwards towards her bedroom, “Let’s watch a movie,” 

His lips curled upward into a small smile as he followed after her, digging his hands deep into her pocket. He followed after her, his gaze trailing her frame as she guided him towards her bedroom.

She pushed the door open as she dropped down onto the bed. Luke stood in the doorway, admiring her from the small distance. 

“You can lay down y’know,” she teased as she patted the empty space beside her. 

He walked around the bed and cautiously laid down beside her.

“Any recommendations?” she offered as she met his gaze. He pouted his lips forward as he shook his head. He turned his body to the side, facing her. Looking down towards him, she turned her head to the side as she felt her lips curl upward. 

“Harry Potter?” he asked softly.

Furrowing her eyebrows she shifted her body towards him. They laid face to face, their noses nearly bumping one another with how close they are.

“You can’t just watch a Harry Potter movie, you have to watch them all,” she offered as she found her gaze lowering towards his lips.

“I don’t have plans tomorrow,” he offered teasingly. 

“You know, I think you’re beautiful in like a not a-a friend way,” Luke let out, he lifted his gaze to meet her eye. Her eyes widened slightly as she continued to look into his eye. “That’s obvious to you right?” Luke let out.

She took a deep breath as she watched the light turn green through the corner of her eye. She began to speed ahead with her heart beating faster and faster. “Luke, you know, I don’t have time for a relationship right now. With work and school, I barely have time for a social life-”

“I know, which is why I never said anything.” he let out, he swallowed hard as he shyly shifted his gaze down towards his lap. He took a deep breath, “I know I’m drunk or whatever but you’re literally everything I’ve ever wanted, you know that?”

She took a right turn into the parking garage beneath his apartment. “Luke,”

“I’m serious-”

“You won’t even remember this conversation tomorrow,” 

“When you’re ready or when you think you have time for one, I’m right ‘ere,” he explained as he lifted his gaze again. She pulled into a guest parking spot and quickly put the car into park. “I’ll always be waiting for you because you cannot tell me you don’t feel the same way. You can’t look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want to kiss me,” 

“Luke-” 

“But if it’s forever that I have to wait for you, I’ll wait because you are worth waiting a lifetime for,” he further explained as he looked deeply into her eyes. She took a deep breath as she pressed her lips together.

“You don’t know what you’re saying right now,” she expressed as she turned her body to face him.

“I know exactly what I’m saying because I haven’t stopped thinking about it for months. I mean come on, Y/N, look me in the eye and tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind,” 

“You know I can’t,” she mumbled. 

“So whenever you’re ready, I’m waiting,” he said as he leaned his head against the window.

“Let’s get you up to bed and then when you’re sober let’s have this conversation,” she explained as she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door harshly. Luke unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out of the car. 

He stumbled out of the car, nearly falling over. “See-” she barked out a laugh, “How am I supposed to take you seriously when you are this drunk!” she took a hold of his arm, he looked down towards her as he allowed her to guide him towards the elevator.

~

The walk towards the apartment was fast while getting Luke ready for bed was another story. He kept making jokes about her taking his clothes off and helping him get into a pair of sweats to help him get comfortable. Or chug a bottle of water and eat a handful of snacks.

He laid beneath the comforter, shirtless and whining. “You have to stay,” he called out, reaching his hands towards her. Letting him take a hold of her hand, he interlocked their fingers. She would be lying if she said she didn’t feel her heart flutter at the sudden touch.

“Luke, I want to sleep in my own bed,” she told him as she looked into his eyes. 

“But you’ve slept in my bed before, what’s wrong with doing that tonight? I me-mean you’re already in your pajamas it’s perfect,” he explained, swinging their hands.

“Well you brought up some things that make this weird,” 

“Only weird if you make it weird,” he offered teasingly. She took a deep breath as she continued to look into his eyes, they squinted slightly as he leaned his head back against the head board.

“You’re the one that made this weird, by the way,” she said sarcastically as she climbed over him to lay beside him in the bed. Slowly, she climbed under the comforter and rolled onto her side to meet his gaze. 

“I just put the truth into the universe,” he teased while pursing his lips forward. She rolled her eyes dramatically as she rolled onto her back.

“Good night Luke,” she mumbled. He took in a sharp breath as he fell onto his back as well. 

“Good night,”

~~~

The following morning, Y/N woke up before Luke. She tiptoed out of the bedroom towards the living room. Which was always surprisingly clean. It was early enough, she figured Luke would be asleep for several more hours, especially with how drunk he was towards the end of the night.

She walked into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee, it wasn’t the first time she would wake up before Luke and make herself at home. Luke would be more upset if he found out she stayed in bed waiting for him to wake up to get ready for the day.

She leaned back against the counter as she watched the Kurig pour into the small red mug. Her mind wandered around the words Luke said last night. There was no way Luke would remember everything he said. 

Maybe he would remember some of it but she was convinced he didn’t. She barely had time to spend with him as a friend let alone the effort a relationship has to have.

She couldn’t put that effort in right now, but was he genuine with saying he would wait? She didn’t want a relationship until after school, she still had a year and a hlaf left.

She took the cup from the Kurig and she secured it with both of her hands as she wandered towards the couch. 

It was another hour of her scrolling on her phone and finishing her cup of coffee when Luke stumbled out of the room. His hair was slightly messy but he did not look worse for wear. He stood at the start of the hallway, watching her for a moment.

Lifting her gaze she saw him standing there, she brought her hand towards her chest as she giggled. “Scared the hell out of me,” she muttered.

“Sorry,” he let out as he walked towards her. He sat down beside her, keeping a whole cushion between them. 

They stayed silent for a moment as they let the awkward tension fill the air. 

She swallowed hard as she delicately placed the mug onto the coffee table, “So, how hungover are you?” she questioned, trying to break some of the tension.

He chuckled as he ran his hand across his chin, “Actually not that bad,” he mumbled. She nodded as she kept her gaze towards her lap. He pressed his lips together as he took another deep breath, “I’m waiting,” he let out as he tilted his head to the side. She furrowed her eyebrows. He smirked as he looked into her eyes. 

“Oh, yeah, that conversation we had last night; that you swore I wasn’t going to remember. I remember every word-well okay, not every word but I remember it all-most of it. So-um I guess it’s-yeah you’re turn,” he ranted.

She smiled as she continued to look into his eye as she took in a sharp breath as she stood up from the couch and walked towards him. Standing over him, she started to climb into his lap. He leaned back, cautiously hovering his hands in the air. 

“I don’t know about a relationship,” she began as she rested her hands on the base of his neck, her thumbs grazing the side of his neck briefly. “But I’ve been dying to kiss you,” she muttered. He smiled as she leaned towards him, kissing him urgently.

The kiss was electrifying as Luke finally rested his hands onto her hips. Leaning into him, the kiss was everything that either of them were waiting for. 

“Yet,” she muttered against his lips.

“What?” he mumbled as he leaned towards her, desperate to feel her lips against his again. She returned the kiss for a few seconds before she pulled away.

“Can you wait a little longer?” she mumbled against his lips.

“Can we at least do this?” he pleaded. She leaned towards him kissing him urgently, pulling his bottom lip into her mouth as she ran her fingers through his hair. 

They stayed in that position for a long time as they were enjoying being that close to one another. It didn’t matter that Jack was probably on his way back or that friends with benefits was always a bad idea or that anything in between friends and lovers was a horrible idea. Right now all that mattered was that their lips were connected and that they both felt the same.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

HELLOOO idk if ur requests are on rn so take ur time with this request and get to it at ur own time but i was wondering if u could make a short one shot fic abt reader who is in a relationship with katsuki and is at home while he's out in patrol and she sees his location with life 360 and sees that he's beside some sort of restaurant or supermarket so she texts him smth like

i see ur beside the ramen place i like can u buy dinner tonight 😊

AND THEN KATSUKI IS JUST 🤬🤬🤬 WTF HOW DO U KNOW WHERE I AM ARE U OUTSIDE RN

all lighthearted and funny :))

THANK UUU SO MUCHH 💞💞

LMFAOOOO thjs js so funny😭😭😭 tysm for this ask i hope i did it some justice :33 hope you’re still stickin around to read it anon ! Short lil drabble, much luv xx

“since you’re by that ramen place i like you can get some for dinner 💋💕”

“ ? what the fuck”

“?? where are you.”

“?”

before you can send another text message, your phone lights up with your boyfriend’s caller id, you giggle.

“hi, baby.”

“where the fuck are you at ?”

you snort, readjusting on your sofa “what are you talking about ?” you ask teasingly.

you catch the sound of people talking as you hear katsuki grumbling to himself “i don’t see you.”

you giggle, kicking your legs a little “and why would you need to see me ?”

katsuki groans, already exasperated and growing more and more impatient, you’re surprised he hasn’t started cursing your entire bloodline yet “quit it with that mysterious bullshit, how do you know where i’m at.”

and just to mess with him, you respond “i see you.”

it’s quiet on his end for a moment, aside from the chatter on the street “yn. i’ll fucking kill you.” you throw your head back and laugh “once i find you, you’re done for. your ass is grass.”

“i like it when you talk dirty to me.” you joke, he scoffs hard on the other end “freak.” you hear him mumble, you giggle some more.

“i’m at home, just saw your location and decided to ask you to get me some food.”

“get you some food.” he bites, scoffing in disbelief.

“us, get us some food. pretty please, suki ?” you use your sweetest voice, maybe he might even be able to imagine your puppy dog eyes through the phone.

he laughs sarcastically “right. what makes you think you deserve to get anything after that little stunt you pulled, huh ?”

you pout, whining so he knows you are “i was just kidding, was jus’ a little jokey-joke.” you can’t help but tease him a bit more.

“yeah, my ass.” you snort loudly, laughing and the huff he lets out clearly lets you know he’s not amused, you can see him rolling his eyes at your antics.

“we’ll see.” is the answer he graces you with. you squeal, cus you know that means you won. katsuki is quick to remind you he didn’t say yes, but you already know his mind’s been made.

“i’m surprised you didn’t ask me why i have your location on my phone.” you hum.

katsuki sounds utterly confused by your question when he responds “why would i give a shit about that ? s’not like i get somethin’ to hide. don’t care if you know where i’m at.” he responds simply.

“sides, i know how obsessed you are with me, so—”

“i’m hanging up now, katsuki. get me my ramen. toodles.” your bitter tone makes him laugh, and just to piss you off some more he adds in a honeyed sweet “see you later, babe. love ya.” before he hangs up. you huff shaking your head. a text pings and you swipe up to check it, it’s from katsuki again.

“i’m not getting you shit btw.”

he does indeed come back with ramen.

[the-softest-sunflower]

Some ideas off the top of my head. 😊

Good posture/avoiding slouching is very impressive. There are websites and videos to help show you how.

Actually listen to people and seek to understand what they are saying, not just waiting for your turn to speak. Everyone loves an active listener. Ask questions too. Especially if you’re trying to impress someone like for a job interview, when they ask if you have any questions, make sure you have at least one. (What are the expected hours? For example.) Asking questions shows engagement and interest.

Remember that most people are self absorbed and are stuck in their own thoughts and concerns rather than noticing and judging you for idk that wrinkle in your shirt or if you’re smiling correctly. No need to mask perfectly. Unless something is very “in your face” like if you shout at people or insult them, then chances are it won’t be noticed by many. If I’m in a store and get stressed, I stomp my feet a little or make quiet sounds to myself and literally no one bats an eye.

If you make a mistake, promptly apologize and then move on. Of course it depends on what kind of a mistake it is, but let’s say you call somebody by the wrong name and they correct you. Respond just with “oh I’m so sorry! [Use their correct name now.] My apologies.” Make sure you are sincere. And then continue whatever the conversation had been. No need for adding in a bunch of “I’m such an idiot” or “you must hate me now” comments. Those comments are not needed and I promise other people just want a simple sorry.

Maybe also you could try searching for “adult social interaction” tips online if you want more.😊 I hope these ideas help!

anyone got any masking tips to come across as nice healthy self regulated normal interesting etc

[ippi2un]

How I Think The L&Ds Men Would Fart ?!

note: yall this has been on my mind for SO long and its so funny to me omg?!! pls dont JUDGE ME....🫶

Xavier:

THE FART PRINCE 😕

I think his farts would be silent but deadly period

Like sometimes when fighting off wanderers he doesnt even need to put full power into obliterating the wanderer...he can just let a lil gas out and its done for😭

I honestly think he also wouldn't really fart around you but if he did he might be a lil embarassed but I think he wont care after that and he'd be more comfortable

Please avoid him when he sleeps!! Thats when his gas comes out too!!!!! Cover his ass with a blanket!!!

One time you walked into a room he was previously in and you ran out QUICK

Claims that the smell was just his "natural air freshener"🙄

Yeah well it killed a plant in the room.

Idc idc idc but ik this mf probably lactose intolerant ...atleast a lil bit

HELP IDK WHY BUT I FEEL LIKE HE STANDS LIKE BABIES WHEN THEYRE FARTING

LIKE HE JUST STANDS THERE LOOKING GUILTY TRYING TO GET IT OUT😭😭😭😭

Yeah if u see him do that run away 🤍🤍🤍🫶

Zayne:

This decadent delicious man...

I think his farts are average in smell and sound😊

He probably wouldn't fart around you most of the time

I feel like he mastered the art of loosening the rectum just enough for the fart to be silent

Because sometimes...he just has to let it out man!!!😤

Btw hes the type to encourage you to fart infront of him because its healthy to do so

His chair at akso hospital has seen alot...

Btw whenever he eats candy (specifically hard candies that require for u to suck on it),

He would fart more that day bcz of the excess air hes bringing in😭 be careful

I feel like he would also have alot of stomach pain idk why

I can just imagine it...poor him😕!

Pls rub his stomach itll probably help♡

Ngl hes the type to try different positions for farting to see which one will relieve him better

While hes by himself ofc

That would be a sight to see...

If u ever see him do it dont tell him u saw 💚💚

Rafayel:

This mf...sigh

Oh hes crazy. Oh the smell oh the sound

Xavier has some competition...

Sounds straight out of a comedy movie or something

Bro what the hell is wrong w his butt and digestive system???😭🤔🤔

I feel like at first he would REFUSE to fart while youre around him

But as time goes by...he realizes he can use it to threaten u with his fart to get what he wants Like

"Hey dear bodyguard, can you please accompany me at the exhibition today"

"No sorry im-"

"Oh I feel something brewing..."

"NO PLS"

I ALSO FEEL LIKE HE CAN SOMEHOW CONTROL THE SMELL AND SOUND😭😭

When hes feeling a little evil...if he sees a large crowd at one of his art works

He would silently walk behind them and let out a very silent death odor

And then he would watch the visitors from far, FIGHTING AND ARGUING AND BEING LIKE "WHO DID THAT."

Sylus:

😕...

This man.

Has CRAZY FARTS

I feel like the sound would be way worse than the smell though ngl

Very loud⚠️⚠️

Sometimes it equally does smell bad though...Xavier and Rafayel have some competition

This man eats very rich foods so !... very. Filling foods.

He drinks alchohol and alot of that digests oddly/is carbonated/fermented

So hes VERY much getting alot of air

I think he farts the most frequently out of the other 3 boyz 😱😱😱😱😱😱

Also the type to lift up a leg while doing it...😒

I dont think he'd be scared to do it around you but he would prefer not to

Why? So you dont get surprised by the volume

If you sleep next to him he has to clench his cheeks HARD so he doesnt wake u up🤪

Bro you'd think it was a nightmare or someone broke into your house.

EXTRA:

• One time Rafayel was swimming in the ocean and he farted next to a crab. (It passed out) (The crab's family immediately came and tried to pinch Rafayel but were repelled by the smell so they ran away)

• Xavier once saw a skunk and decided to assert dominance by farting next to it. The skunk ran away and hit its head in a tree in the process😆

• Zayne once farted right when his patient entered the room and he was red the entire time and when the patient said "Whats that smell", Zayne's response was "The air ventilation system is getting old." 😭

• One time Sylus was sitting on his couch with Mephisto on the couch next to him, and he farted, and Mephisto slid and fell off the couch because of the vibration + he got broken😒

[handageddon]

I think the big issue with the way that schemas/attachment disorders/idk probably other psychiatry things is that it's like.

Worded as

Well the patient will be "afraid" to form connections, they will "avoid" emotions, do all those EVIL BAD PERSON behaviors because they are afraid of abandonment or being hurt. So these "professionals" will try to trigger that response only like. My whole thing is that I'm not afraid of these relationships or actively avoiding them I just literally do not know how to do that. But it's like... well we need to work on your avoidance. You say you would go on walks but would never talk to any classmates... like bro they were avoiding ME. I was very unpleasant to be around, because children are self centered and think they are the ones being victimized when someone else is being abused. I was just minding my own business.

I don't have a bad evil BPD meltdown when it's brought up that I will never see my mom again because my life is functionally the same, and emotionally better off without her. Even recently as up to this year I would come across something and want to share it with her because she is my mom and I love her. But as a source of support or comfort I lost nothing. As a source of stress I felt a positive sense of loss. And so I don't get triggered when these people try to play games with me like... oh Val we will never have another therapy session again! And I'm just like, 👍. Started from nothing, gone back to nothing, lost nothing. And then they try to schedule another appointment.

I just need simple advice on how. How, how, how. I can't do literally any of the shit they say that's ripped off the front page of Google because I just don't know how. I'm not being defiant or disobedient when I question what they mean, I'm just insecure. I simply know from experience, lots and lots of experience, that I'm doing everything wrong somehow.

I'm just a circuit that's stuck open, and every experience in my life has been a terminal short, a burnt trace, or a vengeful break in the line. And I can't get started because I don't have the resources to close at any point. "OH but that's just learned helplessness, not actual trauma." Yes, but the dogs in those experiences still needed external help to undo their "not actual trauma"

I don't respect mallows hierarchy of needs because how am I supposed to have a safe and meaningful sex life if I don't have self actualization. I don't respect that comic of the guy pretending he's stuck in a jail cell because I'm not in a prison, I'm in an oubliette, and when I try to walk out I get thrown back in. And then the guards get mad at me because they have to spend all their time keeping me in here? SMH my head.

[serxinns]

♡GAME SHOW☆

Yandere class 1a x reader imagine or something idk..

A/n: I wanted to make a part 2 or silly scenario of this fic imagining any possibility

DISCLAIMER: The concept and idea is NOT mine this idea belongs to @lady-ashfade and the divder is by @kimjiho1 please go check out their channel and theit work if you want to support her and want the context of this fic thank you!

Summary: there's only a ticket to f/s, and only one classmate can go... so how do they solve this...WITH A GAME SHOW OFC!

“What, which one of us gets to go…” everyone paused and stared at each other you felt the tension of everyone ready to rip their heads off over this opportunity to finally be alone with you "Maybe I should-" Izuku was cut off by Bakugo and towards you "I HELPED THEM GET THE MOST CANDY I SHOULD GO!" He yelled, "But we won, and I floated around the candy bags when they were getting heavy! I should go, right, sweetie?" Ochako looked at you with pleading eyes as she held your arm tight

"you guys only got them at the last minute, plus mi amor, I made up the plan of working together! I should go!" Sero protested while the dekusquad and his squad were glaring at him. "Sero, you're betraying us?! That isn't manly!" Kirishima pouted, looking at his friend. "Oh, quiet; you would've done the same thing for that extra ticket!" Tokoyami added, earning a glare from the red-haired male. Everyone else started butting heads and joining in fighting about who gets the tickets while they grabbed ahold of you

"Hey can't everyone just calm down!" you said annoyed with their antics but it seemed like nobody heard you, you groaned, you already had to deal with 20-plus students tugging you into their group to trick or treat with them while they tried to talk flirt, showing affection or just want your attention everyone was getting louder as if they were roving up their quirks to attack

"Everyone STOP!!" Everyone stopped in their tracks and backed away from each other looking at you "I will think about it overnight then I'll say my answer tomorrow at the end of the day just stop fighting it's getting late anyway" the class grumbled to themselves sending glares and slides remarks and headed to their dorms for the night

You lie in your bed wondering who to choose to stare at the tickets the dekusquad gave you, the dekusquad did win with Ochako floating us around the town (and side hugging you while carrying a bag of candy in the other hand) Iida, todoroki, and izuku zooming through each house with their quirks and tsuyu grabbing the candy in her tongue they all worked so hard but the bakusquad was also the reason you got a lot of candy so it wouldn't be fair as well... plus Momo creating extra bags using her quirk when you got tugged away from the deluging

There were so many good choices you just couldn't decide! They were all your friends! And they also helped you out at the contest even if they were overbearing your head was buried in the pillow guilt overcoming you the thought of your classmates feeling sad cause you didn't choose them makes you a bad friend "Maybe...when I wake up I'll probably have an answer.." you thought surely your classmates will be a bit more understanding and patient the next day right?

Oh boy you were, your friends seemed to grow clingy towards you and not to mention more competitive with each other, Iida or Shoji offered you to walk to class with them which caused a bit fit between them, during periods whenever you needed to borrow anything like a pencil or an easer your friends saw it as some sort of challenge or war, jirou or tsuyu trying to offer to carry your stuff even tho you can carry them just fine,

At the cafeteria normally your friends would sit with their certain groups but now they were against each other not even the groups were together hands kept tugging you to their direction insisting you should sit with them it got so bad you couldn't even escape to the roof because hakagure, Mina and Ojiro, were already waiting for you arguing you had to hide in the closet to eat your lunch in peace which sucks

But training was the worst everybody kept trying to interrupt your training and sparring just so they could get your attention shoji and Kirishima flexed their muscles towards you making sure you got a full view, Izuku and Katsuki were tryna beat each other to see who could prove to protect you, tsuyu pretending to teach you some stealthy tricks so she can have a excuse to talk to you more about your favorite show, tokoyami and Mina throwing everything they have on each other for you

And then it was the end of the day and you still couldn't pick anyone Your overbearing classmates drained you so much you forgot all about it, you sighed entering in the common room where everyone's eyes were on you eagerly waiting for your answer "I-I" "do you know who to choose it's me right!" Ojiro came out of nowhere right in your face, his tail wagging a bit. You backed up a bit while everyone glared at him. "Don't be so sure. It's perhaps probably me," Todoroki said nonchalantly. "What makes so sure it's you icy? hot!?" Bakugo added glaring at him

Then everyone started bickering again, claiming that it's gonna be them. You groaned, obviously not knowing what to do. "Quiet!" The class shut up immediately and looked towards where the voice came from. The voice said a tried purple boy walked into the scene, revealing himself and placing his a on your shoulder. "If it can get you to stop screaming at each other, why not battle for it or something?" Shinsou's suggested with a smirk

Everyone looked at each other for a second; Bakugo had a malicious smile." If it'll that will end this, why can't we..." As he said, activating his quirk, you panicked, not wanting another war breaking out or especially one of your friends getting hurt over some tickets. "Or, how about a game show!" You blurt out. Everybody pauses for a second until Hakagure blurts out, "That could be fun! Good idea y/n!" She hugged you tightly as everyone else reluctantly agreed as well

....

"Welcome one and all to the amazing UA high gameshow!!!" The presenter mic announced as the class clapped and cheered determined to win that extra ticket "im your host present mic and tonight these contestants will be fighting for the tickets for f/s!!!" Mic proudly explained with the cheering soundtrack, "Let's meet our contestants! Class 1a!!" The cheering soundtrack came on again showing your friends looking as determined and focused as ever which surprised you a bit

"Now that you met our lovely contestants I'll drop the rules! There will be 4 rounds and a special final round. Each round will contain 5 students; the questions will be based on a certain student, quirk, or even based on your hero studies! Whoever gets the most points before this timer runs out goes to the special round where the winners of the previous rounds answer this special question. If one contestant gets it right, they're the winner!!"

Present mic proudly exclaimed; you turned to notice your friends not acknowledging the loud teacher. Rather, they were glaring at each other as if they were creating threats in their minds. You gulped nervously hoping nothing went to the extreme and they started trying to be at each other's throats again "Are you sure about this they don't look happy.." you showed your concern and Shinso who was also a contestant for fun smirked "it's fine I'm sure they won't try to kill each other in the middle of the game they aren't psychopaths" he joked, you nervously laughed at his humor attempt

Present mic then when in front of the screen "The 1st contestants of this round is... Midoriya Izuku, Uraraka Ochako, Tenya Iida, todoroki Shoto, and tsuyu Asui!" C'mon down!" The cheering soundtrack came on as The 5 classmates went down to their podiums, preparing to adjust themselves "Now, my assistant y/n will read the questions, and if you answer them correctly, you gain 100 points!" He then pushed you to the question podium you nervously waved as your friends were awestruck by your cuteness

As the round one began iida and izuku were answering them pretty well Ochako and todoroki were right behind them with tsuyu having 100 points shorter then the others "ok final question for 300 points...what's one of my abilities my quirk can do?" You asked the sudden button press and it was izuku his other group members glared at him,he without hesitation he replied "you can control the pressure! And control the temperature of the water but you can also-" before he can continue his endless ramblings present mic cut him off "Oh times up! Let's see who gets to go to the special round!"

The screen pull up each of the round 1 students points with tsuyu 600 Ochako 700 todoroki with a 700 iida with 700 and Midoriya with 1000 "looks like izuku Midoriya is heading to the special round!" The cheering soundtrack came on as izuku eyes bleamed he was for sure gonna win this!

"Onto the 2nd round!" Present mic cheered as the soundtrack played, "Our contestants are...Bakugo katsuki, Kirishima ejiou, Hanta Sero, Kaminari Denki, and Asido Mina!" The crowd cheered as they went up the stage Denki winked at you while Mina blew a kiss to you, you chuckled thinking she was just joking, and started the questions, the round was intense both contestants were answering these questions with the best of their abilities and whenever someone buzzes the button bakugo would glare darkly at them

It was tied down to Kirishima and Denki with 500 points, Mina with 700 points, Sero and Bakugo with 800 points again, then there was the last question: "All right, this question is worth 500 points. Whoever gets this correctly wins the 2nd round!" The 5 students were determined, their eyes locked on the screen, their hands hovering over the button. "The last question is if a citizen is giving you a hard time, what do you do?' Kirishima pressed the button 1st, causing everyone to glare, praying that he'd get the answer wrong. "You listen carefully and never argue back or interrupt," he answered. "Correct!" His eyes beamed up

"Congratulations, Kirishima, you will continue into the special round!" Present mic announced while his friends glared at him in jealousy as Kirishima sheepishly smiled. "Sorry guys!" "I'm not sharing my food with you for a week shitty hair bastard!!!" "not cool man!" "Betrayal!!" "Humph!"

As his friends all insult him, all Kirishima could think of was the tickets everyone kept tugging away from him, but not this time. He was so sure gonna win. He just needed a game plan. "Hey y/n, did you see me? I did amazing, didn't I?" You Glace at him and reutned a smile "yes you did! Keep up the good work!" You showed him a thumbs up and he did the same not noticng the jealous glances Kirishima got especially from Midoriya why couldn't you praise him he won too? He wondered

"Alright, listeners, it's time for round 3!" the Present mic announced "In this round, the contestants will be...mezou Shoji, Aoyama Yuga, Momo Yaoyorozu, Jirou Kyouka, and hitoshi shinsou!" The students then came out and went on the game podium all waving at you, Momo looked confident as if she knew she was gonna win this while the others looked determined ready for any questions

Round 3 was all right, nothing to extreme surprise. Momo had a score of 800, Jirou and Koda tied with 700 points, Aoyama with 600, and Shinsou with 500. "All right guys, this answer is worth 500 points!" Everyone's hand was on the buzzer, determined to answer this question: "Who was the 1st period ever recorded to have a quirk, and at what city?" Jirou pressed the button 1st, "Luminescent Baby who lived in Quing Quing City in China." Jirou managed to say, "Correct!" Jirou face lit up once she heard that she's actually going to the next round!

"Congratulations to our winner Kyouka san!" The present mic said, "Great job Jirou!" You cheered giving her a round of applause she blushed at the flattery and praise she thanked you avoiding your gaze everyone else glared in jealousy even momo bit her nail a bit too much

But Jirou was just like the others determined she always wanted to have a quiet evening with you just you she always loved being in your presence even if you don't even know she's there at times so imagining you and her watching your show together, holding hands, and even her confessing her love to you she already got the outfit to wear!

"Now onto the next and final round!" He announced, "Our final contestants are...Ojiro Mashsiro, Koda kouji, Tokoyami fumikage, Hakagure tooru, and Sato Rikido!" The students walled in adjusting themselves on the podium, Hakagure was waving and squealing at you trying to get your attention with dark Shadow waving his hand aggressively while Tokoyami blushed trying to calm himself down, Koda smiled and gave you a small wave, while Ojiro just smiled at you, clearing your throat once again and started the questions

The questions were a bit harder than the previous ones, heck you couldn't even know the answers or were just as confused as the other contestants as they made it to the last question Ojiro and Tokoyami had 700 points following behind was Koda with 600, and Hakagure and Sato with 500 points seriously what's with these ties? "The last question is worth 500 points is everyone ready?" Your classmates all look determined while Koda looks nervous

"What is the value of x when 2x + 3 = 3x – 4?" Koda quickly pressed the button you were suprised a bit since he's usually quiet about it "is it 7...?" You smiled and nodded "yes your correct!" Kodas eyes widen when he realizes he got the answer right

"Congratulations Koda! You're going into the special round!" Present mic cheered everyone else was just as shocked and envy Ojiro gave Koda a Good game! (Even tho he wanted to say something moren sinister) he kept his composer not wanting to act out infront of you, Hakagure whined and glared at Koda who sweat drops while dark shadow was complaining like a kid

"Now, everyone, are we ready for the Special round!" Present mic trying to hype up the class who was in the audience. They awkwardly clapped and secretly glared at them, "Midoriya, Kirishima, Jiro, and Koda, please step up!" Then students step up at the glittery podium labeled "special" Present mic got on his glittery suit as if he was waiting for the opportunity "Was he wearing that the whole time-"

"OK listeners welcome back to the special round!! This round will determine the true winner of the Ua and who will be taking home the f/s ticket! He said as he waved the ticket, "Now, this time, this question will be something from the classwork we worked on, so I hope you pay attention well!" Kirishima felt a sweat running down his face did he even study? He hoped he did. Jirou was a bit nervous but kept her determination; Koda was a whole lotta nervous thinking about the worst-case scenarios and "Is everyone ready? Remember to listen carefully!... what is the name of the young boy who wanted to be doctor Doolittle assistant?" Everyone thought for a moment barely remembering that lesson heck even you couldn't remember

That's when Koda hit the button to answer everyone stared at him intensity as if they were praying he got it wrong "uh...Tommy Stubbins?" Present mic checked the answer the room was getting more tense the longer he didn't say anything you were getting uncomfortable by how the room changes praying he just say the answer already "correct!" Confetti and Streamers rained down on the boy while he's processing what just happened

"Congratulations Kouji san you are the winner!!" Present mic announced as the cheering soundtrack came on "Congratulations koda!" You cheered as the other classmates reactions were mixed some glared jealousy at Koda while others were busy sulking in defeat..they lost their opportunity to be alone with you! But don't worry they'll find other ways~

Bonus: "that was a great show wasn't it!" You said excitingly as you walked out the building Koda looked a bit nervous like something was bothering him "y-yea! It was!" "Are you ok is something bothering you? You been feeling tense all throughout the show?" Koda quickly reassured you that he was fine and the crowd was only making him nervous that was all that made you ease up a bit

"yea it can be overstimulating most of the time you wanna hang out un my room to ease down your nerves?" Koda blushed and nodded taking the opportunity to spend more time with you but the truth is he wasn't nervous about that he was nervous about him and the others getting caught cause of how obvious they were all glaring jealousy at the boy but no matter it was worth it anyway~

[gamblersdoll]

hi hun! Love ya work and everything bout it 😼😼 deserve more recognition fr I’m not too sure bout your rules for asks so feel free to deny but but but it’s rotting at my brain and I need it satisfied 😞 but reader being a brat and bakugo going to punish her at home but then she falls sick and it turns into domestic bakugo taking care of reader mhm? I’m so sick rn and I want domestic but I also want like Ughughugh idk babe do what you want with it just brain worms LOL

implied smut, fluff, comfort, domestic katsuki !

ping!

the notification goes instantly to his phone, you putting your phone down and laying against the mattress the both of you shared. your phone immediately goes off, taking a peak and its just him rambling to himself practically..

‘im going to fuck you up.’

‘keep playin with me at work and im going to play in your pussy next.’

you smile to the phone, but your stomach somewhat churns for whatever reason. you probably have another stomach bug, being prone to stomach issues and back issues. you reply really quickly, tossing your phone and groaning into the pillow in the fetal position.

it doesnt take long for him to get home, however. he busting through the room and seeing you curled up, he thinks your ready for him to take you like he did last weekend.. but something’s off, your skin is greenish and clammy. “hey.. you good? the matter?”

“dont feel good.” you mumble, hands clutch your stomach and moan. “sorry.. i know you were excited about fucking—“

“hoe, shut up.” he grunts, scooping you up and taking you to the bathroom. “where does it hurt?” he asks, watching you lift your shirt and he feels around. “here?” he asks, rubbing your neck and kissing your cheek. “sounds like you got another stomach virus.”

“yeah.. you dont have to be around—“

“didnt i just tell you to hush it?” he asks, flicking your head and starting a bath. the waters’ cool, him slowly settling you inside. “sit here for a sec, relax and ill fix some food.” he mumbles, talking about hes calling for the next week.

“you dont have to..” you mumble watching him untie his boots.

“i do, because i know im going to get sick and its for sickness and in health, stupid.” he replied, glaring at you. “you do know that i love you, right?”

you nod, feeling some what better.

eventually, he has you take some herbal tea and put you on the bed. “just rest, youll be okay— and we’ll figure it out.”

“are you mad that we cant fuck..?”

“have you or have you not been dating me for four years?” he asks like you had six heads, putting a hand on your stomach. “no im not mad, yes i still love you, no i wont hold it against you, no im not mad i got to miss work, yes i will stay with you.”

note taken.

[minkdelovely]

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

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

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

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

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

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

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

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

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

BABYYY OMG THIS WENT STRAIGHT THROUGH MY HEART 😩

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

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

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

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

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

HONESTLY MY WORST NIGHTMARE

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

WHY DID THIS MAKE MY HEART CLENCH?? 😩♥️

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

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

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

BRUV WE ARE IN PUBLIC!!

Parks were different. Parks were made for such things. 

not only for kisses 👀 hehehe

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

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

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

LET THE BABYSITTING COMMENCE 🫠

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SHIVERS

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

HAZEL OH MY GODDDD 😭🫠

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

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

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

BITCH!! 😭

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

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

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

THE TURNING BACK IS ALWAYS SUCH A KNIFE IN THE GUT

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

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

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

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

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

Not give too much of yourself. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NO WORDS JUST MY HEART WEEPING

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

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

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

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

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

BEEN THERE AND IT SUCKS

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

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

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

AUTUMN I TRULY ADMIRE YOUR STRENGTH

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

this whole paragraph is a baseball bat to my psyche

You were in that worst kind of love; Unconditional. 

SLAP MY ASS AND CALL ME MEGARA

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

I’VE LOST ANY AND ALL ARTICULATION

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

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

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

“You can take my heart with you.” 

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

- — - — - — - — -

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

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

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

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

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

baby got the rug pulled out from under his feet 😭

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

William, for good measure, my darling buck

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

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

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

JOHNNY!! 😭😭😭

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

picturing him going through the motions is honestly so painful 🥺

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

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

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

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

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

this feels very me for some reason lmao

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

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

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

Mimzy you rascal!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

why is this so endearing to me? 😭♥️

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

and the miscommunication begins 😭🙈

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

HEHEHE Alastor I was thinking the same thing earlier 👀

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

case in point 🫠

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

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

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

SOBBING

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

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

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

we all float here Alastor 😂🎈

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OH GOD OF COURSE HE WOULD NOTICE THE BAG

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

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

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

No strange man here now. Just strange feelings. 

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

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

OH MY GODDDDD

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

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

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

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

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

HAZEL!!! I CAN’T!!!

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

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

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

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

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

transforming from dust into vapor…

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

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

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

A Doe in Fall (Part 13)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release 📍

Late? Yes. Buuuuut

If ya missed it:

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

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

Part 13 The Release

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

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

MDNI 🥃 😵‍💫

The Release (Autumn)

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

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

You shook your head. Everyone already knew too much. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

The list of possibilities ran wild. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, no. I’m looking for Alastor.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She brushed past you and disappeared into the restaurant.

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

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

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

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

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

Parks were different. Parks were made for such things. 

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

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

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

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

But this was neither safe nor fine. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.” He didn’t look at you. 

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

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

He didn’t even stir.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not give too much of yourself. 

A second wave of tears, chin trembling.

Idiot. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Drunk.”

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

“And disrespectful.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

You were in that worst kind of love; Unconditional. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can take my heart with you.” 

A wonderful reply.

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

The Release (Alastor)

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

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

“Alastor?” 

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

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

“Johnny. Come inside.”

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

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

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

“The bastard arrested her! Prostitution.” 

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

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

Brady had arrested you. You’d been arrested. 

“Prostitution?” Alastor finally spoke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll wait in my car.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What would you want him to do?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not illegal.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A threat….scare him? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey! Alastor!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s your car?”

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

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

He needed to make it up to you.

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

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

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

“You’re drunk. No.”

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

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

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

“Hey. You can’t-,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What? 

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

Alastor, don’t go to the station. 

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

Alastor, don’t drive. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck. 

He’d fucked up.

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

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

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

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

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

Regret?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was scared, and angry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was to blame. It was so obvious now. Not just for the arrest and the negative attention but for the entire evening going tits up. 

Throat tightening, a tingle began in his fingertips and worked its way up his wrists. 

Stupid.

Selfish.

Useless.

Throwing the pillow into the chair opposite the sofa he tossed his legs over and sat up. He couldn’t breath, chest heavy. As his lips began to feel like they were stung with tiny needles, he spread his knees and lowered his head between them.

Not now, he yelled at himself, you’re making this about yourself again. Just like last night.

He’d wanted to fix the problems he’d made so badly but stupidly he’d just burdened you further.

There was no future in that moment. All the little daydreams of you and him were suspended and in jeopardy. Until he spoke to you, had the talk you told him was required, he had nothing. 

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

Alastor couldn’t stand another second of not knowing his fate. Lost in the panic he hadn’t considered at all what Brady had said to you. Taking the steps two by two he found the bed empty. Before turning, vaguely remembering hearing the screen door earlier, something caught his eye and made the world spin again with renewed terror.

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

He closed his eyes, bile rising in his throat. Was it full of your things? Were you just waiting to tell him to take you home?

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

The handkerchief smelled faintly of you still. His bottom lip was sucked between his teeth and the skin picked and pulled. Still carrying the piece of fabric, he leaned over the stairs railing to see you as you sat on the back porch. 

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

No strange man here now. Just strange feelings. 

The pounding under his fingerprints became sonorous. It was becoming harder to ignore the obvious. 

Deep breaths, he had to prepare his responses. The only way to begin was with an apology, but after that he wasn’t sure where things would go. So he had to make a plan. 

Alastor hoped you’d forgive him, and accept the apology. At which point he would love to imagine himself doing something respectful like kissing your cheeks and thanking you for your mercy. 

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

There was no way to run his lines for this. Like many other interactions with you he couldn’t bring the usual tools with him to battle. Either with your wit or point of view, or perhaps today your wrath, you always disarmed him. 

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

Walking out the backdoor, he wondered if he would be allowed back in or if the door would lock behind him. 

He knew the exact moment he fucked up, and knew he had to begin there. Barefoot, still in yesterday’s clothes while you were in your night dress, he let himself drop to the space beside you before tentatively bringing his head down to your lap. He avoided eye contact, not yet ready to confront his adjudicator.

The pain in your words from last night were just now beginning to sting his eyes. 

‘Who am I?’

“You are my darling,” It wasn’t until he said it that he realized he hadn’t opened his mouth and spoken yet, his voice was harsh and throat dry. Who were you? It would be easier to list who you weren’t to him now. “That’s who you are.”

No unit of time existed small enough to measure the pause between what he said and your reply, but it felt like a gorge separating his breaths. 

“You sure didn’t make me feel like your anything last tonight.”  He couldn’t remember ever hearing you take such a tone; cutting and cold. Was there no longer warmth in your heart for him? He had been so drunkenly blinded by his own feelings he hadn’t stopped to think about how you were viewing his little tantrum. Maybe he hadn’t ever really had anyone around whose opinion mattered very much.

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

“I know. I’m sorry. I was so,” what word could sum it up?

“Drunk.”

“Enraged.” a high whine caught in his throat, clenching his eyes now as the embarrassment took over stronger than he had thought possible. He felt stupid now saying he was just angry, “And drunk.”

He couldn’t entirely blame the alcohol, but he wouldn’t disagree with you now. 

“And disrespectful.”

Alastor folded in on himself, shoulders drawing in to try and curl up small enough that he ceased to exist in any meaningful way. Disrespectful. He had, he’d disrespected you in public and in private. The stunt with the keys came back and he thought he may just die from the mortification of what he’d done. 

“That too.” His hands nervously wrung the handkerchief beneath his closed thighs. What a terrible morning juxtaposed with the prior day’s bliss. A sigh, soft and weak. He remembered who was the catalyst for his buffoonery. “I want to split his skull with an ax.” 

Argh, it wasn’t about him. “I’m sorry. I— you were not wrong. I didn’t know what to do with myself when your manager said you’d been arrested. I almost drove my car into the station doors.” He was beginning to wish he had.

“So getting zozzled and shouting the personal details of a New Orleans detective into the night seemed… the better option? When I had already had a difficult night?” He flinched at the rising anger in your voice, the rhetoricals were scolding and biting his pride like a nun’s ruler to his knuckles. “When I needed your support? Comfort?”

Perhaps the death blow. All he could do was nod and accept his mistakes. But, it hurt. Not to admit them, but to confront them. Another tidal wave of emotion hit and he had to bury his face back into the cool silk of your nightwear. He couldn’t understand how he had fucked it up so badly. 

No, he had to find words. “I’d never felt so helpless, I just…I responded very selfishly. I’m sorry.” Two words did nothing, they tumbled from his mouth like feathers. Weightless. When the heavy guilt in his chest was threatening to drag him to hell with one misstep, ‘I’m sorry’ was just crystals of salt dropped in the gulf. Actions were all he had left and he wasn’t sure yet you’d give him the time to show you. 

When your fingers grazed his scalp and combed his hair from his ears he shook with relief. A tender touch that promised you didn’t hate him, and his cortisol levels immediately plummeted. He felt safe again, enough to ask what was pestering him still. 

“Will you ever let me kill him?” his lips ghosted over the mercy of your thighs.

As you thought, his fingers ran along the edges of your handkerchief. Feeling the stitched edges with precision as a distraction from the stress of waiting. 

 “When he’s no longer a threat to us. When no one will be shocked to hear he’s dead.” 

No longer a threat… what did that mean? When Brady moved on from you both, or was simply made incapable of doing you harm. He could expedite that, somehow. He was sure of it. 

His arms wrapped around your legs and caressed your thighs through the silk, “He went too far. Turning his head up, he got you into his peripheral. 

“And he knows your name.”

Oh. That … was expediting, wasn’t it? It was bound to happen. 

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

He didn’t want the answer. He knew better than to ask. But – if you did, he didn’t want to keep you there. He couldn’t let the moment pass without finding out if you were just putting up with him. If you felt trapped, like Brady promised you that you would. When you told him those things, the silly things the detective had said before, you always laughed. You said it was so ridiculous. But, now, there was nothing funny about the idea. He couldn’t promise himself he wouldn’t keep that little yellow fabric in his hands even after you parted, but he could swear to not try and guilt you back into his arms. 

When you lifted him off of your body by the collar he couldn’t understand the emotion behind it. You were inspecting his face so carefully, but there was no sign of disgust or anger or even adoration to signal how he should feel. The teardrops tickled his cheeks and chin and fell unimpeded to your legs. 

Your eyes kept moving over his features, until a small tug of your lips to the side crept into a smile. Soft and obviously natural.

“Give me a little time. I’ll show you how stupid of a question that is over our first fight,” The pads of your thumbs were soft as they slid down his cheeks and gathered the moisture there. When he pulled the handkerchief to his lap, you took it and used it to further dry his face. He exhaled a broken breath when you took his face in your hands and stared into his eyes. “I never want to leave you.” His body again trembled with relief, blinking away the nth torrent of tears, “Even if I do, even if somehow I’m convinced to go, you’ll have to rip your heart out of my cold dead hands or I’ll take it with me.”

Stop. Don’t say that. “What have I told you? Don’t mention those things.” Death. Leaving. Goodbyes. “The spirits are listening.” They were always listening, watching, hoping to grab a hold of anything you said without precision and deliver you the reality you mused. He didn’t want to lecture, but he couldn’t let it go. Shh, don’t say such things. He could feel the dried tears crack as his eyes crinkled with his smile, a smile that he nearly failed to switch up to return the kiss when you pressed your lips into his. A first fight? He’d never had one of those. Typically he never got that far. Things fell apart the second someone was unhappy or unsatisfied. 

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

You sniffled and sat up straight, bringing his attention back to you. 

“If you ever speak to me like you did last night again, with that sharp tone and cruel words, sober or not…” Your words got slower until you stopped, an almost wild look in your eyes he could read as pleading. He shook his own head subtly, unconsciously swearing he wouldn’t. 

If he ever forgot himself and you again, like he had let his rage and weakness do the night before, he didn’t deserve your forgiveness or grace anymore. A woman too good for him.  

Because he couldn’t ever get it back now, “You can take my heart with you.” 

A sickening fact. 

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

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

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment, @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[soupbowl18]

Ordinary Hangout Sesh with Hanta Sero 

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Stoner!Sero X Stoner!Reader

A/N: MY OWN HC. I DON’T CARE, I DON’T CARE. THIS IS FROM MY OWN EXPERIENCES. I DON’T CONDONE DRUGS AT ALLLL. PLEASE BE RESPONSIBLE AND DO RESEARCH. Basically things I found attractive when I hanged out with people during certain seshes.

COMMENT YOUR FAV SESH MEMORY ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

Warnings: Smoking, Marijuana, flirting :/, 21+, bad language, MDNI.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Hanta & Weed:

✪ I like to think that he only smokes on weekends with no plans

✪ I know for sure he doesn’t use before training nor class. He trying to become a hero so he needs to concentrate.

✪ I like to imagine he doesn’t smoke after training nor classes either because he needs to study or hangout with his classmates.

✪ The only time he does smoke is on the weekends when everyone is busy and he has the day to himself

✪ I also like to think hanging with the Baku-squad can be overwhelming, with Katsuki yelling first of all (he doesn’t smoke because he thinks smoking will effect him from being the number one hero), no one likes negative energy, Denki probably freaking out because the edible was a lot for him, trying not to be a handful for Eijiro either (also doesn’t smoke because it might effect him as a hero), and Mina just giggles her ass off. “Guys, ummmm, can yall shut the fuck up, yall are fucking up my high”

✪ They’ve never seen him this upset.

✪ So he rather hang out by himself, vibe on his own. Where no one is bothering him or freaking him out. Just lays on his bed and listens to music.

✪ ONE DAYYY, Hanta found you a bit far off trail on UA grounds, smoking a joint. “No way!? You smoke too!?”

✪ Scared the fuck out of you of course, wanted to join and brought his own joint. “So what’s your vibe? (・・?) (asking because of his friends) What strain you smoking? Can I hit it real quick? Do you want some of mine?

✪ Was happy to know that you’re chill（＾∇＾）

✪ Hung out a bit and y’all went to Hanta’s room and sat in total silence.

✪ Solo hangouts turned into silent company.

════ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*:☆ﾟ. ════

Before Sesh:

✪ When he ask you to hang out, he texts you around sunset. (Because he does chores to get it out of his way) “Yooo wyd? Just finished cleaning my room if you wanna come over? Can I hit your vape tho? (If you own one)

✪ He likes you so much that he rolls joints for you. Afraid of you finding out, he only does it sometimes. “I had extra weed and so I rolled an extra one for you or whatever” ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

✪ He’ll sometimes come over to your dorm and take out this materials

‧₊˚✧ Materials he for sure owns ✧˚₊‧

A grinder

Definitely a hand me down tray（−＿−；）

Wrappers but for you pattered (SAFE; NON TOXIC) wrappers like Hello Kitty type shit

A also hand me down bowl, he cleaned it good as new

A lighter that barely works (~_~;)

════ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*:☆ﾟ. ════

During Sesh:

✪ Y’all definitely have a playlist (that y’all made sober and he definitely did not add tracks that drops hints that he likes you) “I think you would like Thinking Bout You by Frank Ocean”

✪ Y’all go on “walks” because you don’t wanna stink up each others room.

✪ He actually sparks up the joint for you while you have it in between your lips (because you let him and you want him too) “Wait I got you, pretty” (HELLO!?)

✪ He’s a light weight because man is SKINNYYY, so by himself, he smokes half of the joint. (Up to you if you wanna decide to imagine you finished the joint or smoked half the joint together because you’re also a lightweight BUT EVERYONE WORKS DIFFERENTLY)

✪ (YALL KNOW WHEN YALL DONE SMOKING AND THEN LATER YOU FEEL THE RUSH OF HIGH) That happened to Sero, (idk if it happens to you, you can join ig lol) he had to stop walking for a moment to let the rush go through. “Woah, hold on, it’s hitting me at this moment”

════ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*:☆ﾟ. ════

After Sesh:

✪ Y’all know you guys are BIG on snacks so you guys head to the convenience store and get snacks and the munchies start to hit almost before you got to the dorms. Ya’ll held hands because y’all kinda stumble the whole way.

✪ Ya’ll like make a weird but somehow delicious parings when munchies hit. “Okay okay okay, PB sandwich, but add banana and Twix” (GUYS I RECOMMEND PLZZZZ, MADE THAT AND THAT SHIT WAS INSANELY GOOD)

✪ After the muchie fiasco, to whoever’s room ya’ll go, Hanta will be cuddly, but he wouldn’t say anything because he has no thought behind those eyes.

✪ This man would send you TikToks and/or IG reels even tho he’s next to you. Because man went non-verbal

✪ When you check verbally, Hanta will make a yes or no sound. When Hanta checks in, he’ll squeeze your hand, and you’ll squeeze back.

✪ As he’s coming down from being high, he’ll say a couple things here and there.

✪ Definitely says I love you here and there but he barely remembers saying it though. He just thinks out loud and for sure says a lot of things when he’s looking at you. “Pretty” *looks at your lips* “I love you” *checks you out every 5 minutes* “mmm” “so pretty”

✪ And of course, He falls asleep. On your bed or his, he’ll fall asleep while cuddling because he in love with you thinks you’re so comfy. So you’re stuck in place, until you have to pee.

[capriciouscrownprince]

So I have finished MDZS book one and I want to highlight some iconic moments, in no particular order

- "Wei Wuqian" way to call a man broke in front of his crush

- Just the waiter in general, he is such a dramatic gossip

- NIE HUAISANG AS A WHOLE (I love him so much, selfless baby who needs protecting. Fuck the slander, I love him)

- Wei Wuxian thinking Lan Wangji was possessed because he wasn't rising to Wei Wuxian's torment anymore

- Mo Xuanyu's makeup- iconic

-APPLE MY BABY

- Lan Wangji pulling his sword on Wei Wuxian for daring to show him porn

- Nie Huaisang being upset the porn was destroyed

- Just the friendship dynamic between WWX, NHS, and JC in the flashback (I so hope it stays like that /s)

- Drunk Lan Wangji, perfect in every detail except his boots being on the wrong feet

- Wei Wuxian pretending he couldn't play the flute- leading to music so bad Lan Qiren wakes up to scold him

- WEN NING, I LOVE YOU

- Wei Wuxian playing up at the mere mention of 'cut sleeve'

- "Why would Wei Wuxian want a gay donkey riding mad man?" (Paraphrased of course)

- Nie Mingjue fucking exploding (RIP my pretty man, you will be missed)

- Lan Xichen is so pretty and I'm glad Wei Wuxian agrees

- On a similar note- Wei Wuxian agreeing that Lan Xichen is the prettier one because he smiles more

- "Look at the the way [Lan Wangji] is glaring, you'd think I was putting my arms around his wife" BITCH YOU ARE

- Wei Wuxian watching excitedly for Lan Wangji’s reaction to the alcohol

- “Wei Wuxian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry” OH GOD, NOT ANOTHER ONE

- THE FACE WASHING SCENE!!!

- “Do you like rabbits?” “Yes” (My boyfriend and I quote this all the time lmao)

- “what about this one?” “Mine” Then paired with wwx cockblocking himself…no he is not talking about Bichen

- Calling the severed corpse “good buddy” because they didn’t know his name (idk, this just gets me)

- Wei Wuxian talking about how well defined the fucking half-corpse of good buddy is. Then giving him a couple of slaps on his abs

(This certainly isn't a full list, these are the ones I can think of off the top of my head lmao)

[lacaballotalaprraladivalapotra]

Myth of Forgotten Sea findings, is kissing necessary?

When Rafayel pushes MC off a cliff when they are running from the city guards and she's drowning again transcript

A voice speaks beside my ear, i open my eyes and see a familiar yet blurry figure, he thightly holds my hand using all his strength.

Rafayel...

He says nothing. he cups my cheek, and his head moves closer.

You....!..I....!

You.... You should have...! At least said something before....

If i did, your last kiss would have been given to this generation's Sea god.

This implies that the myth of a Lemurian kiss granting you the power to breathe underwater is true but in Whalefall lament card when MC asks Rafayel for help looking for a baby whale and they're going diving

Take off those large goggles, open your eyes, and look at me. Try to breathe slowly

Rafayel slowly take off my goggles and i open my eyes. To my surprise i don't feel any discomfort.

It's no different from being on land is it?

I can breathe and talk is this the protective sphere that you lemurians have?

He doesn't even have to touch her bro

It could've been because kissing was the fastest way to get her to breathe aswell as it could've been that Rafayel didn't want to tell her the truth, they're not mutually exclusive but i am saying the idea he may have not told her kissing him wasn't necessary till the end of her stay in Lemuria aka the end of the myth, just amuses me idk

side note | Also could have something to do with the fact they weren't officially bonded? maybe he doesn't need to kiss her anymore cause they're that intertwined?

[graciegoeskrazy]

one more fight - she's begging you to stay stay part THREE

Matty Healy x lost!OFC!daughter!r

part 1 part 2

Warnings: crying, mourning/death of a parent, mention of running away, school lol, idk really, angst, ft George a bit

A/N: Idk how I feel about this but I think it's good. I had this way longer originally but the rest will just be separate parts. Some if the rest isn't s angsty (who IS she??) I like it. When Liam Payne died this reminded me that this is basically “I got adopted by one direction” fan fiction so now I hate it all actually but whatever

It had been a week since you attempted to run away from home, and a week since you decided to try calling this place home.

The days had been strange and tentative, each one blending into the next. You were slowly piecing together routines, latching onto anything that made you feel settled, though part of you wasn’t ready to trust the feeling. School, of all things, had become a useful distraction. It wasn’t that you suddenly loved studying or cared much about what grades you’d get—just that there was comfort in the rhythm of it. It gave you something to think about other than Matty or Mum. With midterms looming, you had a convenient excuse to keep your head down, keep to yourself, and attempt to be unnoticeable.

Your room, the biggest you’d ever had, still didn’t feel entirely like yours, Since the night Matty found your diary and read how you truly felt about staying, you’d been slowly adding little pieces of yourself to it—posters, knickknacks, little things that might make it feel like you belonged there. Nothing too bold or permanent, just small touches, as if you were testing how much of yourself you could leave behind in this space without making it obvious. It was easier to imagine Matty noticing and disapproving, though he’d only ever tried to show how much he wanted you to feel loved.

Every morning he’d check in, a soft knock on your door, asking if you needed anything. He never asked outright if you were okay or if you wanted to talk, and you only assumed it was because he knew that was too much to ask, too soon. Instead, he let you take each day as it came, hoping that small gestures—a cup of tea, your favorite snack he’d bring home for you, a movie night he’d suggest but would never force—would show you that this was, in his eyes at least, home for as long as you wanted it to be. Maybe even for good.

Yet the question lingered in the air between you both, like a thread that neither one of you wanted to pull. The question of staying. You hadn’t spoken about it since the night he found your diary, and though you’d been too mortified to say anything then, you wondered now if he’d been waiting all along for you to come to him and make it real with words. But for now, you settled into the quiet in-betweens, letting the weeks go by without saying anything final, and instead working to leave small pieces of yourself where you hoped they might take root.

…….

You never heard the quiet rumble of the car outside or the front door shutting. It was only when the light spilling through your bedroom door shifted into the shadow of a man that you finally turned around. Matty stood there, dressed in black with his wallet and keys in hand, dress shoes still on—he hadn’t even bothered to drop them off by the door. He’d come straight to you. “What the bloody hell are you doing up at this hour?” he asked. You rolled your eyes, too exhausted for his lecturing, and turned back to your work.

“Studying,” you said calmly.

He walked toward you, his tone firm but holding no anger or malice. “Not at one in the morning! You should be in bed. I told you I wanted you asleep by the time I got home.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, not looking up from your work.

He sighed, setting his keys and phone down on your desk. “Did you eat dinner?”

“Yes,” you replied, a little too quickly.

He scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, so we’re lying now, are we?” You shot him a confused look. “I checked my credit card charges,” he added, shrugging with a smile. You rolled your eyes and turned back to your study guides. But before you could get back to work, he closed your laptop and began shutting the books on your desk. “It’s time for bed.”

“No, I’m busy.” You said, starting to open everything back up. Matty started closing everything again as soon as you did, putting more books into your backpack beside your desk.

He laughed, which pissed you off even more, “Don’t tell me ‘no’, it’s time for bed.” You ignored him, opening your laptop and trying to resume working, but it was no use, he just kept shutting everything off around you,

"Stop," His voice was firm, cutting through the air. The word felt heavier than it should, a gentle command that broke through the walls you had been trying so hard to keep up. Your body reacted instantly, curling in on itself as if his voice had unlocked something inside you. You pulled your knees to your chest and clamped your hands over your eyes, as though covering them could make the world go away. The tears you'd fought all night surged forward, warm and relentless. The sobs you’d been choking back finally broke free, trembling out in small gasps, filling the silent room.

For a moment, you felt nothing but the weight of it all—your sadness, your anger, the uncertainty that seemed to wrap itself around you like a second skin. You couldn’t stop shaking, the tears pouring out faster than you could handle, but before you could drown in them, you felt Matty slowly shift beside you. His hand wraps around your wrist. It wasn’t forceful, just a quiet, persistent tug, and you let him pull your hand away from your eyes. Your vision blurred through the tears as you blinked up at him, trying to make sense of his face through the haze of emotions.

"Come here," he murmured, his voice softer now, the firmness replaced by something warmer, something that felt like home. His arms opened prompting you to come to him.

Without thinking, you moved. The space between you two disappeared in a second as you pushed yourself off your desk chair and stumbled into him. You buried your face in his chest, your body shaking as his arms came around you, pulling you in tightly like he was trying to piece you back together. His chin rested on top of your head, and you could hear the steady thump of his heartbeat, a rhythm that began to steady your own.

"It’s okay," he whispered into your hair, his voice a soothing tone against the storm raging inside of you. "I’ve got you. Let it out."

You sobbed harder, your fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt as if clinging to him could stop you from falling apart completely. He didn’t flinch, instead, his hands moved in slow, comforting circles across your back. His touch was light but steady, grounding you with each stroke. He rocked you gently, the motion slow and rhythmic like he was trying to lull you out of the darkness with nothing but his presence.

"Shh," he murmured again, his breath warm against your hair, "You’re safe. I’ve got you."

His words wove their way into the cracks of your heart, slowly calming the tidal wave of emotions crashing inside of you. The ache in your chest began to ease, though the tears kept coming. You hadn’t realized how badly you needed this, how much you’d been holding back until this moment. The dam had broken, and now there was no stopping the flood.

But he didn’t seem to mind. He just held you tighter, wrapping his arms around you like a shield, protecting you from the world. He leaned back slightly, shifting his position so that you could sink further into his embrace, his arms cradling you like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.

“You’re okay,” he repeated, his voice steady. Each word felt like it was unraveling the tight knots that had wound themselves deep in your chest, loosening the tension that had been building since your mom died. You weren’t sure how long you’d been crying, but he never left your side, never pulled away,

The warmth of his body seeped into yours, and slowly, the sobs began to fade. Your breaths, though still shaky, came easier now, and the iron grip you had on his shirt began to soften. You felt heavy—exhausted, drained—but somehow lighter at the same time, as if some weight had been lifted. His hands never stopped moving, rubbing soothing patterns across your back, his thumb tracing slow, comforting circles over your shoulder blade.

He didn’t push you to speak. He didn’t pry or prompt you to explain. All he did was hold you, shushing your tears, whispering that everything was going to be okay. And it was you who chose to break the silence, your voice muffled against his shirt as you continued to cry into him.

“I just miss her,” you whispered, your words broken by the tears that hadn’t fully subsided.

He paused for a moment, letting the weight of your words hang in the air. The only sounds were your quiet hiccups and the soft rustle of his breath as he held you tighter.

“I know,” he finally said, his voice gentle, full of understanding.

“I just...want to see her again.”

“I know, baby-”

“And I’m so tired.” The exhaustion wasn’t just physical at this point.. Every part of you was worn thin, stretched beyond breaking.

“I know,” he whispered again. “But pushing yourself like this, studying until you can’t see straight, working every second of every day... it won’t bring her back, love. It won’t take away the hurt.”

His words settled in your chest, heavy but true. You felt the warmth of his breath on your forehead as he pressed a kiss there. He then spoke words that would take a while to itch out of your brain, “You don’t have to be so strong all of the time, kid.” You continued to let the small tears flow off of your cheeks and onto his shirt, “You can ask your help every once in a while, you know that right?” You didn’t nod or answer, just stayed still, letting his words sink in.

He looked at you as he spoke, “You’ve had a long day,  I’ll bet money your exams will go just fine, and deep down, I think you know that, too.” He pulled back slightly, his eyes soft but serious. “But if you don’t get some rest, you’ll be too tired to keep your eyes open for any exam you take.” His fingers brushed a stray tear from your cheek. “It’s time for sleep now, love.” You just nodded as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Go get changed. I'll be right here.” You slowly pried yourself off of him, the chill in the air coming back without his warmth.

You grabbed one of the pajama sets from your dresser and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The momentary silence felt heavy, almost suffocating after the outpour of emotions just moments before. The fluorescent light buzzed faintly as you turned it on, casting a harsh glow on your reflection in the mirror.

For a second, you just stared. Your face was blotchy and red, eyes swollen from crying, dark circles lingering beneath them from nights of restless sleep. It was hard to recognize yourself like this—so raw, so vulnerable. A completely different person than the one you were mere months ago. You reached up to rub at your cheeks, your fingers brushing over tear-streaked skin, but the feeling lingered deeper than the surface.

You dried your face, tugging on your pajama top and slowly made your way back out of the bathroom. Matty was still sitting where you left him, his expression soft but watchful as you re-entered the room. He didn’t say anything, just gave you a small, reassuring smile, patting the spot beside him.

And without thinking, you went to him, letting the quiet between you two speak for itself.

He moved out of the way and moved the covers down, prompting you to get in. He pulled them up once you settled in and started fluffing your pillows. His gaze finally met yours once he got you settled and he couldn’t help the small frown on his face when he saw your eyes, still full of tears.

“Shh. It’s alright my love.” he said, voice almost a whisper, secretly trying to lure you to sleep

You looked at him with those big doe eyes of yours. The ones he has become very accustomed to. “Will you stay with me?” you asked, voice barely a whisper.

It took everything in your father to not cry in that moment, seeing you so small, so fragile. So terrified of what was to come made his heart shatter into a million pieces. “Of course I will.” He said.

Once he took his place next to you, you wasted no time, immediately finding a spot against him and his chest. He held you tighter as you cried into him. He didn’t say a word, yet you felt the most supported you’ve ever been. It almost felt as if a weight started to lift off of you. Eventually, your sobs subsided. The amount of crying in that short time was enough to wear you out during your barely conscious state, He was still in his dress shirt and pants, not that he cared. All he could think about was you. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to let go of you.

…….

George bursted through the door, slamming it loudly. Not aware of your sleeping form on the couch, You were cuddled into your father, asleep, face hiding in his chest while your legs were sprawled out on the rest of the couch. To Matty’s surprise, his loud, booming voice didn’t wake you. Matty shut him up before he could continue. “Shhhh! Shut up will you!” he whispered. If he could’ve shouted he would.

George abruptly stopped when his eyes caught sight of you. “Christ, is that her?”

“No, it’s another 12-year-old who lives in my house.” George rolled his eyes. Matty continued, “She’s still asleep. Come sit.” He nodded towards the chair next to him.

He saw George’s hesitant look as he slowly crept to the couch, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form. Matty noticed the way his gaze hovered over you as he took slow, calculated steps towards the chair, afraid a creek in the floorboard would wake you up. He spoke as he sat down. “Why so tired? It’s barely 3?”

Matty shrugged, “She’s been up late. Barely sleeps through the night since Flo died. Being up through the night studying for her exams sure didn’t help.”

George quietly sighed. “Poor girl.” He looked at you once more, paying attention to your features, now having a proper chance. “Christ, she looks just like you.” He said, almost a whisper.

Matty looked up at him quickly. “You think?” He said, not bothering to hide the smile on his face.

“Without a doubt.”

Matty hummed, looking at you again, “Acts like me too, stubborn as hell.”

George let out a small laugh before quickly responding. “Nah, I don’t imagine she’s as big of a pain in the ass as you.”

Matty rolled his eyes. “Oh shut-”

“Dad?”

Both men panicked when they heard the timid and groggy sound of your voice. You were still half asleep, not even bothering to open your eyes all the way. The sun peeking in through the living room windows was too bright anyways,

“I’m sorry I woke you, my love.” He whispered sweetly. “Go back to sleep, darling.”

You rubbed your eyes as if doing so would get rid of the tiredness in them. “What are you doing?” You asked while stretching.

“Nothing, just talking with George. Come here, come back to sleep, my love.” You didn’t argue, just fell limp again into his arms. Matty smiled down at you as George breathed a sigh of relief.

“Shush,” Matty said to him.

“Me shush? You're the one who woke her up!” He whisper-shouted,

Matty shrugged and repeated. “Shush.”

“She’s been doing alright otherwise?” George asked, his pettiness now replaced by pure concern.

Matty smiled as he continued his mindless movements of rocking you back and forth, “As good as she can be. All things considered.”

George hummed. “...And you? You doing alright there ‘Dad’?’

Matty sighed as he looked between his best friend and his daughter, his shoulders falling slump. “...I don’t know. I just…Sometimes I can’t believe she’s mine. Not because of everything that’s happened, but because she just seems…too good for me.”

As much as George wanted to make a joke and say something stupid like well, most women are, he didn’t. He stayed silent, only nodding his head to prompt Matty to continue. “She’s so mature. Well beyond her years, sometimes I think she’s more mature than me. She’s smart. Really really fucking smart, way smarter than me…sometimes I wonder how i’m supposed to help her…grow.” 

“I think you’ve done much more and much better than your giving yourself credit for.”

He sighed, “She’s already amazing. I don’t want to fuck her up. She too perfect.”

George nodded “Maybe that part she gets from Flo.”

Matty smiled, knowing he was right.

[i-am-creacheur]

okay listen. I get the urge to talk about my favorite life series ship like it's Canon in every season...BUT. THAT HAS NEVER ONCE BEEN THE CASE.

Yes, Jimmy would be upset if Tango canaried (technical scientific term for that). Everyone would be- even I would be, and I've never watched a single one of his videos. Canarying sucks, and it hurts. Of course I would be upset. THAT DOES NOT MEAN THAT I THINK JIMMY WOULD BREAK DOWN SOBBING FROM A CHARACTER STAND POINT. They have had only like... THREE on screen interactions. One is Tango murdering a man infront of Jimmy and another is Tango cheerfully burning down something one of Jimmy's teammates worked very hard on. WildLifeChara!Jimmy has more reason to hate or be afraid of WildLifeChara!Tango than to be madly in love with him.

I promise you, if Tango had offered Jimmy a life instead of Ren, people wouldn't shut up about for MONTHS. But, because it's Ren, somehow the interaction isn't NEARLY as homoerotic??? I understand having NOTP's, but the Jimmy/Ren ship doesn't even show up ONCE on ao3. Zero fics. ZE-RO. There's no reason to hate something that doesn't even exist.

This same concept applies for Flower Husbands as well- not just in Wild Life, and Secret Life and Limited Life and Last Life and Real Life though- in Empires.

I have no clue about Empires Season 1, but they barely interacted in Empires Season 2- and yet the amount of ship art I sift through on a weekly basis for my side blog is actually insane. Yeah, the few interactions WERE important, but I think Scott only flirted (in video) with Jimmy maaybbeeee three times. I have no idea what the count of that for streaming is, but I swear it is not enough to keep that number so inflated.

Although, honestly, this problem might just be affecting me because of my personal view on shipping- if it's in a context where it doesn't make sense for the characters to be romantically engaged, I won't read it or write it.

For example, my beloved Solidwood! I mostly get their vibes or read their fics from the following series: Evo, Last Life, New Life, Empires2, Secret Life. That's because those settings make sense! They are active, they are engaged, they have near constant interactions or very close base locations. It makes SENSE for them to be shipped. However, if you showed me art or fic of them in, say, Limited Life, I'd furrow my brow and tilt my head and say "no, that doesn't do anything for me." BECAUSE THEY HAVE ZERO REASON TO BE INVESTED ROMANTICALLY IN ONE ANOTHER THERE, AS A STAND ALONE SETTING.

Most of the major Jimmy ships, though, don't follow this rule. I can understand loving a ship so much you want to see it everywhere- but, I promise you, stepping back and looking at which characters actually have chemistry regarding the new setting and social system will do wonders... you won't have to think of new Au's to insert your favorite ship into a new setting... all ships will be your favorite ship (unless they give you the ick). Join the multishiper hivemind /j

No but honestly it's gotten to the point where I will like or dislike a creator/character of theirs by what ship is their most popular given the context of the setting. Like, Tango in Double Life? Awww the sweetie!! I love him :) and then Tango in Empires2 sets off alarm bells in my brain screaming at me. He is NOT meant to be here bringing that ship here, this is NOT its territory. Same problem for Scott in nearly damn near every SMP both Jimmy and him are in... except Wild Life because he's actually been pretty nice and not condescending or forcing on Jimmy. I guess also power imbalances in how fans view them is a major no-go for me...

Idk if you read this whole thing thanks I guess... for anymore needed context I am a Jimmy rarepair obsessed multishiper.

TLDR; Lots of popular ships are inserted into settings without a thought for what that would mean for the setting and any changes in the established social connections, which gives OP the ick. I'm also not policing ships I'm just begging people to please either understand more ships using in setting context or list their AU details in the summaries of the fics. This goes hand in hand with misinterpreting characters in writing also... the more ships you like the more characters you will get to get good at writing!!!!

[honeytonedhottie]

hii!

i need advice on how to talk to people over the phone / in person.

every time i do vc i never talk, and when i do talk i sound SO awkward 😭 i can't keep a conversation going at all.

i also do school online & i barely have friends which gets super lonely, so how do i make friends in my online school & how do i get used to talking?

i also want to go do in person school because i feel like im missing out on my highschool experiences but i have bad social anxiety & i'm just terrified overall since i haven't been to in-person school since 2020 😭

if ur worried about how u sound when u talk, practice! use ur voice memo app on ur phone and read from something so that u can hear how ur voice sounds. that way u can notice things that u do that u do or dont like and improve on them based off of that voice memo until u reach a place where ur confident in the way u sound.

as for making friends in ur online school idk girl 😭 the best thing i can tell u is to get out there, like to events and stuff so that then u can meet people that are your age and go from there. when i went back to in person school it was challenging for me too, but what helped me get over my social anxiety was exposure therapy. like actively putting myself out there, regulating my nervous system with deep breaths and getting out of my own head. start small with the exposure therapy and build on it overtime as ur confidence starts to grow. you've got this! 💓

[stanskissing]

Ford being like "You are getting out of my house. Tonight" and Stan arguing because he needs to stay at least until the kids are gone and he asks what he's supposed to do and Ford's just very quietly like "What about what you did in highschool?" and Mabel listens through the door while Stan gets fucked against a wall lmao

keep these comng hhguys. polease. im having so many totally legal and not innapropriere thoutghts right noew. also i had to steal that thumb off of google cjz i couldnt draw it and it makes it so much funnier

it was the same night that ford came back, previous arguement aover ford kicking stn out was only a handful of hours before, and they were already back at the throats in the kitchen. it was like idfk two am or some shit and they had ran into eachother in the kitchen and stans anger boiled over and he kinda blew up on ford and ford gets so fucking mad because he still holds so much resentment towards stan and idk stan says some shit about how none of this was stans fault to begin with and ford gets so fucking mad because how dare stan say something like that when he hsas no idea what ford went through with bill and he gets so fuckin mad he shoves stan back by his shoulders and snarls that stan is leaving. tonight. and stan gets Equally as mad becausse first of all how dare ford push him and also is he fucking stupid ford cant take care of those fucking kids and also what is stan supposed to do? he's an old man now, he's spent the last thirty years of his life doing nothing but trying to save ford and now he's yelling at ford and fords backed him against the wall gripping his biceps tight and and then ford mutters, just do what you did in highschool. and stan is floored, because what the fuck. no way ford brought that up. but also. holy fuck? that was so fucking hot? and theres a silence between them, chests panting from their yelling and they stared at eachother and for a moment ford thinks fuck. i shouldnt have said that.

but then stan's hands are on him, all over him, and he's kissing him and fuck ford snaps he pushes him back into the wall again and stans head bumps on the wood and lets out a groan and ford uses that to force his tongue into stans mouth and his hands come up to bury in stan's hair and his fists tug roughly and stan moans and jesus fuck they both missed this so much, not that either would admit it. ,,ford spins stan around, crashing himagainst the hard wall as his hand reaches around to yank his pants open and shove them down his mid thighs, his free hand is pressed against the side of stan's head, shoving his cheek intot he wall as his glasses are knocked off his face nd clatter on the floor, the two of them too caught up in eacother to even notice. the room was filled with huffs and puffs and groans and moans as ford shucked his own pants down and pushed into stan, both of them ignoring any need of foreplay because just needed. needed to be inside of stan anf to fuck all 30 years of pent up emotion into the man under him. he slips into stan with ease and he growls at the idea of stan being so loose because of other men (bros just old dude leabe him alobe) he fuckedinot him harder, leaning forward to press his chest to stan's back, biting at his righth shoulder, leaving marks littering the scar there, seeing the marking made his heart hurt but also licked his ego seeing a branding that ford did on his brother that hecould never get rid of. its just plain animalistic hatefuck in the middle of the night in the kitche, ford spitting insults and degrafing words in stans ear, telling him how the only thing he;s ever been good at is this, this is all ford will ever need from him. stan fights back, telling him to piss of and his dick isnt even that good, both brothers biting insults at eachother as they fuck like rabbits

right around the corner, pressed against the wall next to the door way was poor mabel who happened to come down for water at the Worst Timing Ever. her hand was clamped over her mouth as not to be heard as she listened to her grunkles growl and pant like dogs with wide eyes as the wet sounds of sex filled her little ears, one hand pressed against the heat of her undies with the goal for water long, long forgotten

thank you for sending me this anon. hope i did it justice. absolute fire prompt. sorry if i mixed uo their names anytime in this i wrote like half of this during a dizzy spell (prime bee content zone) imm gonaan go take the fattest bee nap ever (stare at the wal and driool for 20 minutes)

part 1! part 2!

[astronicht]

Oh my gosh sex with other people to pull on the red string yeah.... strung out and sweaty yes ... their neighboring motorhomes uh huh. I'm obsessed with this

RIGHT yeah. Bonus if fucking other people only successfully tugs on it sometimes, not a 100% guaranteed thing. Marc disassociating in the midst of mid sex like Huh is this even working. Can’t tell. Vale meanwhile sleeping like a baby but then 6 hours later waking up midmorning having sweat through his sheets, needing to either jerk off or be sick. 👍🙂

In my heart (meaning literally no one has to go w this) this isn’t even exactly a soulmates AU it’s a “sometimes people get tangled, irretrievably” AU?? So yes it IS red string, and rosquez can do something like mentally yanking on it via a variety of triggers or mental gymnastics (or trauma; Marc at certain tracks every year feeling Vale pressing on him like a heavy dog leaning into you— weird tug but that’s what it feels like) (yes he does jerk off to it that IS the premise here) but much of the insanity is of their own making. I guess in my vision this is standard rosquez but asking the question what if you added in bonus mild telepathy?? And made it kind of horny kind of awful? Anyway why am I trying to worldbuild good god.

But importANTLY imagine spending years at a distance while occasionally , in the dark of the night or a smearing sleepless midmorning, yanking on that string: it usually takes some mental effort. But then it’s 2025, and they’re at some GP track, two motorhomes apart, and one of them, not even thinking about it — let’s say it’s Vale, heading to bed at 3:30AM, radio blasting white noise next to him, sleep routine begun, and he idly reaches out and yanks—hard.

Which is the only way to make it felt, normally! Except oops Marc was asleep just a few meters away and he jerks awake sweating and sick bc it turns out that yeah the red thread IS in fact stronger close up!! Neither of them remembered this from the early days, and now Vale is wide awake and half hard half in Marc’s head, entirely horrified. Marc is experiencing idk fever psychosis and/or red string of fate heat crisis now. Great! Goodnight