#like i know i should be grateful i'll have a house and shit but making it livable costs so much! so much!

[magnusedom]

need to save up so much money i need to visit italy (for no reason) soon or i'll die

[hyuuukais]

-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143

pairing -> lee minho x fem reader

synopsis -> after a bad breakup, y/n needs to find a new place to live. although she's grateful for her best friend, up-and-coming model hwang hyunjin, for letting her stay at his, she can't keep living with him and his model roommates. so when an opening for somewhere nearby with cheap rent opens up, she jumps on it, despite knowing next to nothing about the 3 other tenants, only that one owns 3 cats. the three quickly learn of her breakup, determined to help get her back on her feet. but what happens when one of them begins to develop feelings?

warnings -> general, feelings of anxiety, punches r thrown

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER FIVE -> BAD BITCH ENERGY (partially written! wc:722)

"Actually, I can't do this!" You exclaim, anxiety gnawing at your lungs as you get closer to your home.

"Yes, you can." Minho drives on, not sparing a glance in your direction.

Sooner than you hoped, you're there, staring at the pale yellow door through the passenger side window of Minho's car. The house looks no different than when you left, only you can see your flowers drooping slightly in the window. Although you'd only been gone less than a week, it felt like a million years. This place was no longer your home; you didn't know if you had one anymore.

"Just- can we stay parked here for a second?" You try to squash the tight feeling in your throat, constricting your words to a whisper. "I'm not ready."

"No offence, but I don't really wanna waste my gas sitting here all day-"

"Yeah, and that thing I left for you was actually kind of important-" Beomgyu chips in.

"I basically stood someone up for you, so you better not chicken out-" Han gives you a pointed look.

They all stare at you and you have to look away, hide the tears welling in your eyes. You're going to disappoint them if you don't go, just like you disappointed Seonghwa, just like you always do. You never should have asked them, never should have burdened them with this-

"Hey." Minho shifts his body to face you better and you glance over, eyes falling to your hands. "How about we come with you? Would that make it better? Easier?"

You look up at his question, tears now threatening to spill over. "Yes, please."

"Shit, she's gonna cry again!" Beomgyu laughed uncomfortably. "Y/n, c'mon, it'll be okay, don't worry! You've got us. Now, wipe your eyes and let's go. Can't have your ex seeing you this distraught over him, can we?"

"Bad bitch energy," you say in a broken voice, words NingNing has tried to engrave into your very brain over the years.

"Bad bi-" Han waves a hand in the air. "Yeah, sure, whatever you say."

You wipe your eyes, trying to muster every bit of strength you have to see him, placing a hand on the door handle. A wave of fear washes over you again when you start to push it open, the boys following suit.

But then you slam it shut.

Han groans loudly and sits back down, Beomgyu and Minho doing the same.

"What happened?" Han asks, exasperated. "Where's the bad bitch energy or whatever?"

"I'm sorry!" You can't look at them. "I'm sorry. I can't-"

"Enough with the 'I cant's' because yes, you can." Minho turns his whole body to you again, grabbing your chin with two fingers, and making you look at him. "He broke your heart. He hurt you. So, yes, you can go in there, reclaim your things, and never have to see him again. There's no reason for you to even think about him after this." He can tell you're not fully convinced. "How did it feel to see him with the other woman?"

"It felt like my heart shattered into a million pieces," you say. Minho opens his mouth, but you continue on. "Then he took those pieces, ground them up into a fine powder, and scattered them to the edges of the Earth where I'll never find them again. It felt like the ultimate betrayal because I knew I gave him everything and trusted him, but he clearly didn't do the same. Or even close."

You sit up straighter, squaring your shoulders.

"Yes, there, that's it." Minho smirks, eyes widening ever so slightly.

"And the way he thought I'd be the one cheating?" You're anger flares, skin heating up. "As if I didn't tell him how much I loved him daily? As if I wouldn't be too busy working on something that I was proud of that he didn't even let me talk about because, 'oh, honey, we both know your career isn't going any further'."

Anger leads you out of the car and to the front door before you can register your feet moving, pounding a fist on the door when the spare key is nowhere to be found, mumbling every wrongdoing he's committed.

You are furious.

And your hand moves on its own when Seonghwa opens the door.

notes -> do NAWT mess w miss y/nnie. she WILL beat ur ass.

notes pt 2 -> didn't mean to post this! so accidental extra chapter today lmaoo

taglist -> @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @puppyminnnie @tfshouldidohere @kangaracha @chlodavids @whitney190 @thisisnotjacinta @borahae-reads @brooklynie @gini143 @kayleigh-28 @skz-streamer @babyphotos0325 @scallywag1299 @venusmoonxnight @naomisosoup @fertiliezedtoesw @s00buwu @realrintaro @anothershorthuman @skzstaykatsy @ilovejeongin007 @btswestan @taeriffic @ihrtlix @raehawthorne @euphoric-univers @hyperpixie @evermourning @satsuri3su @jazziwritesthings @minhwa @wyzminho @fic-for-readers @dreamerwasfound @imsiriuslyreal @lailac13

L^^^ orange means i can't tag you

[oh-goddess-of-chaos]

⠀ 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 – 𝐣. 𝐝. 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ✧‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (navi. & masterlist. & tag. )

「 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 」 yandere!jason dean 𝒙 female!reader

「 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 」 in which you try to break up with jason dean, but you find that doing so is a lot harder than you anticipated.

「 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 」 man-handling, murder / death, manipulation, toxic / abusive relationship, unconsensual kissing, threatening, swearing, generally psychotic behavior, implied / referenced stalking, general yandere themes.

「 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 」 1.2k

「 𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 .⁺ ˖ ⌒ this one's a bit on the shorter side, but it was fun to write!

"You killed her."

Those were the only words you could think to utter staring at your deranged ex-partner. "You fucking killed her, didn't you?"

In spite of your current rage and distress, all J. D. could seem to do was offer you a devilish grin and a smirk. "Well, I wouldn't say killed her, just... I put her out of her misery, is all. Charity work, really."

"You did it. You murdered my best friend. Do you think this is a joke?"

"Well, it is quite funny, if I do say so myself."

You weren't quite sure what you were feeling at the moment. Anger was one thing, but heartbroken, too, for you had lost the person that was closest to you.

And yet, your inner turmoil aside, you felt a terrible, terrible smile slither its way across your face - a not because you were happy by any stretch - the situation you found yourself in was by no means one that'd cause you any feelings of joy - but simply because you had no idea what else to do.

"She was right. I should have stayed away from you. You're not a rebel. You're fucking psychotic."

"Well, you say tomato, I say 'to-mah-to'."

You grated your teeth together. "Just get out, J. D." You were much too tired to play any of J. D.'s mind games. You just wanted him gone. And for a moment - for one beautiful moment - he seemed to consider doing what you asked. But, alas, he was never one for folding so easily.

"No."

You drew in a sharp breath. "Excuse me?"

J. D. took a step closer to you. You held your ground, hoping to give off the impression that you weren't intimidated by what he might do; you knew he had a loaded gun on him, and his unpredictable nature didn't ease your racing heart.

"I'm not leaving, and you can't make me."

"J. D., this is my house."

"Well, technically it's your parent's home, and I doubt you want to get them involved, unless you'd like two more of your loved ones with their brains blown out."

You stiffened, your throat tightening up. Upon your lack of a response, J. D.'s mouth curled into a wicked smile. "That's what I thought. Now, how about we both go out to 7-11 and grab a couple of slushies?"

J. D. outstretched his arm in order to grasp your hand, but just as your fingers brushed, you jerked backwards. J. D.'s smile faded.

"Y/n - "

"I'll call the cops - I'll fucking call the cops on you, J. D.!"

J. D. raised an eyebrow and began nodding. "The cops?" He inquired. "Tell me, when they arrest me, do you think they're going to ignore the fact that you somehow knew for a fact that I killed Heather, Kurt, and Ram? What proof do you have that doesn't incriminate yourself? What will you say when they ask you how you know it's me? You wrote the letters."

"Yeah, well I didn't murder people!"

A strangely exuberant laughter escaped J. D.'s lips. "You didn't, did you? Then you didn't give Heather that mug of liquid drainer? And you also didn't shoot Kurt?"

You paused briefly, thinking of a quick defence. "Well I didn't know that was the wrong cup! And Kurt - I was just so shocked - "

J. D. took a step forward. You took a step back. J. D. grinned. He continued his approach until you inevitably collided with the wall, letting out a small gasp. "Admit it, Y/n!" He trapped you with his arms. "You say I'm evil, but look in the mirror! We're the same! We both do fucked up shit, and we like it! I saw that look on your face when Heather died. You were glad."

"We are not the same. I did not want them dead. Whatever you thought you saw in me when Heather died, it wasn't there. You're delusional, J. D. Now, I'm calling the cops, so don't even try to - "

"You can't call them. You know that. The moment you do your parents would be dead - and, besides, you know you couldn't pay to have a lawyer send me to jail. I know your parents wouldn't be able to afford it."

He was right. And you hated him for it. You didn't even ask how he knew your family wouldn't have sufficient funds - at this point, you'd be surprised if he didn't know something about you or your personal life.

"Well, I'm not coming with you, no matter what you'd do. I'd rather - "

J. D. didn't allow you to finish, forcefully swallowing your words with the press of his lips. The kiss was anything then what it should have been - it was greedy, feverish, demanding. You didn't have so much as a moment to breath as J. D. devoured you, leaving you terribly, terribly breathless. His icy fingers tug into your skin, surely leaving bruises, and you shuddered at the feeling of his wandering hands along your exposed skin.

J. D.'s kisses now were not what they once were. A million years ago, they sweet and tender, a warm interlocking of souls on a cold winter's day. They were beautiful and wonderful and tasted of nothing but kindness and thoughtfulness. But this one was nothing like the ones you'd experienced in the past. It was hungry, rough as J. D. pressed you plush against him, searing as opposed to warm, poisonous as opposed to tender.

It was after what could only be described as an eternity that J. D. pulled away, staring at your dizzy self with a satisfied expression upon his face.

Because, at last, here you were, like a bird with clipped wings, caught in J. D.'s trap, the one you'd unknowingly watched him craft bar by bar.

You froze as you felt two arms slither around your waist, firmly pulling you to J. D. He liked you like this - he could practically smell the fear radiating off of you, and it was intoxicating. Neither slushies nor cigars could compare to the high he felt from your presence.

"You're not leaving. You can't. And, besides, I'd kill you if you did." He let out a satisfied sigh. "I worship you - can't you see that?" You shivered as J. D.'s warm breath tickled your ear. "We were meant to be, darling. There was a reason we met... you were made for me."

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding as J. D. slowly let you go, grasping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. You naturally diverted your gaze.

J. D. grabbed your arm and squeezed it tightly, causing you to let out a small yelp. "Look at me."

Hesitantly, you obliged, your stomach knotting when you caught the dark glimmer in J. D.'s eyes. It was then that you knew - knew that you'd never once be free again, knew you'd be forever bound to J. D.

"We're going to fix this fucked up world together, Y/n."

© do not translate, steal, or repost any of my works elsewhere without consulting me and gaining my consent.

[themuseinthewoods]

Incorrect Troy 2004 quotes because the generator gave me to much power. features y/n. in which everyone inexplicably talks to each other and gets along because I need to laugh, multiple different shipping of y/n x Troy charecters

Odysseus: So what’s the plan? Y/N: I don’t know. You’re smart, points at Achilles they’re mean, come up with something.

Y/N: sighs Paris: You bored? Y/N: Yeah. Paris: Wanna start drama for no reason? Y/N: I thought you’d never ask.

Patroclus: If you get in trouble, I'm gonna be like… a lawyer to you. Ok? Paris: Okay. later Hector: Paris! Sit down on the chair, you're in trouble. Patroclus, whispering: Deny everything. Paris, loudly: That isn't a chair.

Y/N: So, Odysseus is late today. Anyone wanna bet why? Y/N: I say they slipped through the subway grate and is having terrible sex with the mole man. Paris: I don't know about that…I think either their alarm clock didn't go off, or they're in line at the bank. Hector: Take this more seriously! Odysseus was clearly taken in their sleep! Patroclus: I bet they tucked themselves into the bed too tightly and got stuck. Achilles: Maybe they fell into another dimension where they're more interesting…? Odysseus arrives Odysseus: Sorry I'm late - there was a problem at the bank. Paris, clapping their hands in excitement: HOT DAMN!

Hector: Y/N kissed me! Achilles: Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Hector: It was unbelievable! Achilles: Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Odysseus: Okay, we wanna hear everything. Achilles, get the wine and unplug the phone. Hector, does this end well or do we need tissues? Hector: Oh, it ended very well. Achilles: Do not start without me! Do not start without me! Odysseus: Okay, alright, let’s hear about the kiss. Was it a soft brush against your lips or was it like a, you know, “I gotta have you now” kind of thing? Hector: Well, at first it was really intense, you know? And then, oh God, and then we just sort of sunk into it. Odysseus: Ohh… So, okay, were they holding you? Or were their hands on your back? Hector: First they started out on my waist and then they slid up and then they were in my hair. Achilles and Odysseus: Ohhh. meanwhile Y/N eating pizza in their house: And, uh, and then I kissed them. Paris: Tongue? Y/N: Yeah. Patroclus: Cool.

Hector: Just be yourself. Achilles: Really? Hector, I have one day to win over Y/N’s parents. Achilles: How long did it take for you guys to like me? Odysseus: Couple of weeks. Patroclus: Six months. Paris: Jury’s still out. Achilles: See Hector? ‘Just be yourself,’ what kind of garbage advice is that?!

Y/N: Achilles is too tall for me to kiss them on the lips. What should I do? Hector: Punch them in the stomach. Then, when they double over in pain, kiss them. Paris: Tackle them! Patroclus: Dump them. Odysseus: Kick them in the shin! Achilles: No to all of those! Just ask me to lean down!!

Odysseus: A mouse! Patroclus, pulling out a knife: Go back to where you came from or I'll stab you. Hector, pulling out a frying pan: It'll make a nice meal! Paris, giving the mouse cheese: You deserve a treat, little guy. Achilles, gasping: It's Ratatouille! Y/N: His name is Remi, dummy. Odysseus: …I was going to say to just trap it and throw it out the window… what is wrong with you people.

Odysseus, driving and singing to the Little Einsteins theme song: We’re going on a trip- Y/N: In our favorite piece of shit! Patroclus: Doing 95! Achilles: We’re gonna fucking die!

Y/N: ARE YOU- Patroclus: Fucking. Y/N: KIDDING ME?! YOU- Patroclus: Fucking. Y/N: IDIOT! Achilles: …What was that? Patroclus: Odysseus banned Y/N from swearing, so I’m helping them out.

Hector: Where’s Achilles? Y/N: Around. Hector: Around? Hector: You don’t have any idea, do you? Achilles, dropping down from above: Did you know there’s a space above the ceiling?

Andromache, to Y/N: You drink too much, swear too much, and your morals are highly questionable. Y/N: … Andromache: You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a best friend.

Helen: You’re drunk. Y/N: Correction: drinking. Present tense. Grammar, Helen.

Y/N: I'm sorry. Please talk to me. Helen: Y/N: Hello? World's most amazing person?? Sweet pea? Precious cinnamon roll that's too good for this world, too pure? Helen: 'Sorry' doesn't bring back my fucking M&Ms.

Y/N: Hey. Briseis: Hey? Y/N: I can't sleep. :/ Briseis: I can. Goodnight.

Helen: very seriously You need to stop doing weird things to cope with the stress. Going outside might help. Y/N: I went to the park today. Helen: There you go! I hope you got something from that. Y/N: opening their coat This duck.

Y/N: Oh, fiddlesticks. Andromache: Look, I understand this is a tense situation, but let's watch the fucking language.

Patroclus: My favorite thing about big dogs is that when you push them over, they're all like "Oh, I'm lying down now! Someone might scratch my stomach! I might nap! Endless possibilities!" Y/N: …whereas, when you push little dogs over, they're all like, "Vengeance! Death before dishonor!"

Y/N: makes Achilles a cup of tea but puts salt in it Achilles: sips tea Y/N: Achilles: finishes tea Y/N: Didn't it taste bad? Achilles: Yeah, but I didn't want to hurt your feelings so I drank it all. Y/N, tearing up: Oh, okay.

Y/N: Lol. Heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you’ll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this. Hector: What did you do Y/N? Y/N: a Mistake.

Andromache: What the hell is wrong with you? Y/N: I have this weird self-esteem issue where I hate myself but still think I’m better than everyone else.

Y/N, with a headache: Advil me up, daddy. Patroclus: I will short out the language centre of your brain if you say anything like that ever again.

Hector: We’re playing Scrabble. It’s a nightmare. Patroclus: Scrabble? Scrabble’s great. Hector: Not when you’re playing with Odyessus, it’s not. They put words like “ephemeral” and I put “dog.”

[theitgirlnetwork]

Better

Ch. 13: I've Got It

Note:....Been a while. I know boooo, it was very shitty of me, and I'll spare you the sob story but I'm back. Thank you all for the continued support, I am extremely grateful to everyone who gave and continues to give this story a chance. I am ready to get back to work. This chapter is a long one as the beginning of my apology. As always, feel free to reach out to me with any questions or just to chat, but all in all, it feels good to be back. Happy Valentines Day, babies <3

Warning: Toxic Family Dynamics, anxiety, angst and strong language.

“Now we wait.” 

Lip rolls his eyes as he sits on the bed in his and Charlotte’s room at Kev and V’s house, crossing his arms. “This is fucking stupid.”

V’s sharp elbow goes into his side as Kev shushes him, facing the opposite direction. 

The three of them are sitting and waiting outside of the bathroom door, straightening as Carol emerges from the room, blue and white stick in her hands and Charlotte in tow. “Auntie Carol, I told you I’m not pregnant-” 

“Hush, little girl, stop whining.”

“But Mama,” V tries, rubbing her head tiredly. “She just had her period.”

“You shut up, Veronica, you were supposed to be watching her, not letting her shack up while you did, lord knows everything but take care of your cousin. Now I’m gonna hear shit from her father and his wife the whole time they’re here.” The older woman huffs, squinting at the test, snapping her fingers and pointing to the bed, gesturing for Charlotte to sit. “The least we can do is make sure she’s not pregnant when they get here.”

Lip rests his hand on Charlotte’s thigh as he tries to hide his annoyance with the whole situation. The call with Charlotte’s dad had been disastrous, as he suspected it would be. The older man had cursed him to high heaven before demanding Charlotte be on the next flight home. When Lip heard that he’d panicked, snatching the phone back from his wife and hanging up. All they’d received since then was an eerie message that they were on their way. Because he’s him and he has literally no control over his own brain, he had no choice but to question why she hadn’t told her parents about them, about him. It seemed like her dad hadn’t even expected to hear from a boyfriend let alone a husband. They’d at least been together long enough that her parents should know he exists.

In fact that’s all he can think about, aside from the fact that he may have lost his job. And how the two may be related. 

“Fuck!” Lip growls as he punches the wall in the hallway. He’s unconcerned with what Fiona will say about it. He’ll just blame it on Frank. 

Charlotte’s head pops out of the bathroom with a freshly bathed Liam on her hip, both looking as innocently confused as ever. Liam claps his hand, squealing, mumbling out an excited ‘fuck!’ as he meets his brother’s eyes. “No, Liam, that's a bad word. Phillip didn’t mean to say that. He meant to say darn, right Phillip?”

The blond is in too foul a mood to concede for cuteness sake and instead squeezes the boy’s cheek and gives his wife an appreciative pat on the ass before scooting past. “Nah, I meant fuck.” 

Charlotte pouts as she bounces the child on her hip a little before taking him to sit with one his other siblings as she goes to figure out what’s wrong with her spouse. She’s noticed that Phillip has been on edge since her parents’ message, but she was beginning to think that wasn’t all that was bothering him. 

She finds him spread out on the couch, staring up at the ceiling with a scowl on his face. Her pout deepens as she climbs over the side of the couch, laying her body over his, pressing her chest to his and offering him a bright smile. “Talk to me, bubba.” 

“I’ve just got shit to figure out I guess, I gotta handle it or we’re fucked.” he huffs, rolling his big blue eyes, as she smooths the lines between his brows with her soft fingers. 

“Shit like what?” Charlotte asks, tilting her head lightly. 

“Watch your mouth.” He murmurs, softly, dragging his thumb over her bottom lip before pushing it into her mouth, humming with quiet satisfaction as she simply closes her mouth around it, brown eyes staring up at him intently. “That shit at the party, lost my cool, cause that fucker is trying to fuck you-” 

“Don’t want him.” she says around his finger.

“I lost my cool and sorta might’ve cost us a good thing.” Lip sighs, smoothing his other hand over her hair. “Daddy wants to talk to me in his office later this week. Fucked it up, sorry baby.” 

It almost feels worse. How quickly she shrugs off his failures. She doesn’t tell him he fucking sucks, or that he ruins everything. She doesn’t huff and push off of him. She offers him a soft smile, kisses him deeply, and tells him ‘they’ll figure it out’. They’ll do it. Another thing he just can’t do for her. He feels helpless. He loves her, and this job was the biggest step he’s made in showing her that. He might beg. He might literally have to set his pride aside and beg. 

That was part one in the hardest lesson life has taught him. Phillip Gallagher is not good enough for Charlotte Gal…Fisher.

“Yay, Debbie!” Charlotte screams , clapping along as Ian whistles. The family was gathering for Debbie’s first soccer game of the season and it was…not going well. Turns out Debbie’s team sucks and she doesn’t respond very well to the rules and restrictions of soccer. She was currently focusing more on digging her heel of her cleats into the shin of a kid who’d accidentally kicked her hand while the ball rolled past her. 

“Fuckin’ kill ‘em, Debs.” Mickey calls, lighting his cigarette. His brows furrow at the looks the parents around him send him. “I fuckin’ meant, metaphorically.”

“Figuratively.” Lip corrects, smacking away the middle finger that gets waived in his face. He sighs as Charlotte knocks his own cigarette out of his hand before he can light it, slapping her thigh, pulling her leg over his as she giggles in his ear. Lip relishes in the closeness and warmth he gets from this moment. His wife leaning into him, absently toying with his fingers as she cheers for his little sister. 

It makes him think. He thinks about the future. Doing this with his kids. Their kids. Kids he didn’t even think he wanted. Not until her. Just the idea of her opens a world of possibilities he hadn’t even factored in. It feels good. It would feel great, if some fucking idiot wasn’t staring at her like a piece of fuckin’ meat-

“Can I fucking help you, fuck face, or do you wanna keep starin’ at my wife?” He demands, standing immediately. Ian and Mickey are following suit soon enough, the latter, lifting Charlotte and placing her on the opposite side of all of them. 

“Woah,” the guy lifts his hands in surrender, eyes darting between the men nervously. “I just was trying to figure out where I know her from, I don’t want any issues.”

“Let’s just say you don’t know her from anywhere and you get to keep your teeth, alright?” Mickey growls. 

The three men settle back into their seats and return to the game. Charlotte waves off Debbie’s confused look that she sends to the stands. She whispers into Lip’s ear that everything is fine. That the guy probably frequents the bar she works at. But from the way she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, zipping her jacket up to her neck and crossing her arms over her chest, hoping he wouldn’t notice…Lip fucking hates himself. He really does. He hates the guys at the club that pay to see the love of his life essentially naked. He hates that they go around thinking about her after they leave the fuckin’ seedy ass building. He hates that she works there, because despite the fact that her body is beautiful and he’s glad she’s comfortable in it, his insecurity is making her insecure and now they can’t be at his sister’s soccer game, or the grocery store, or the park or the club without someone fucking eye-fucking his wife, pissing him off and making her uncomfortable in her own damn clothes. 

But mostly, mostly he hates himself for not being able to make her like the women sitting on the opposite side for the other team. The soccer moms who have husbands that take care of fuckin’ everything they need and have shit to spare to give them what they want. He hates that she’s not sitting here with one of those fancy, stupid ass purses that they all seem to fuckin’ have. He hates that while they got to drop their kids off at a nice ass school after they kissed their husbands goodbye and then went shopping or drinking or whatever upper middle housewives do with their days Charlotte was helping clean his shithole house. He hates that after the game he’s gonna drop her off to the club where she’ll meet more creeps who get off thinking about her and eye-fuck her in his face. He hates that he’s too pussy to go into the club because then he’s worried he’ll steal one of Mickey’s guns and air the bitch out and Charlotte’ll be forced to visit him in jail for the rest of her life. 

So Lip grinds his teeth and finishes watching the game. Leg jumping as he tries to soothe his temper. That’s part two.

Charlotte’s parents arriving is the nail in the marital coffin for Lip. They go pick them up from the airport in the attempt to make a good impression. The couple borrows Kev’s car and the whole ride their Charlotte tries to keep him in a good mood. He knew he must be walking into the lion’s den from how she’d been acting. They’d had sex twice that morning, and before he could start to offer to make her breakfast for her…efforts, she was pulling out the ingredients to make him pancakes. In the car, she didn’t whine about his music, just humming softly as it played, rubbing his arm as his hand rested on her thigh. He wants to be able to leave it at this. He doesn’t want to interrupt the great morning by asking the dreaded question, but he’s him and he can’t let it go.

“So, we haven’t really gotten to talk about it, but I need to ask…why didn’t you tell your parents about me?”

Charlotte takes a deep breath, staring straight out the window as they pull into a pickup spot. “They’re parents…you know, they didn’t exactly send me here to get married in three months.”

“They won’t approve. Fuck.” he nods.

“Bubba, it doesn’t matter.” Charlotte turns to face Lip, pulling her knee into the seat beneath her. “It doesn’t matter, I approve. I’m more worried about what you’ll think of me. My parents aren’t the nicest people, and…I’m not good with navigating them.”

“Charlotte, there’s literally nothing short of murder you could do that would make me change my mind, you’re not the one we need to worry about.” Lip pushes his tongue into his cheek absently, nervously drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, the reflection of the simple ring shining on his hand. 

“This is temporary, right?” Charlotte murmurs, leaning over the console and placing her hands over Lip’s. “They’ll come, and see how good you take care of me and they’ll go home. ‘Kay?”

The blond man just nods quietly, pulling her hand to his lips and kissing it, savoring their bubble one last time before they get out of the car.

“I hate the airport, it's dirty and busy all of the time.” 

Lip rolls his lips together as he drags his in-laws bags over to the car, listening quietly with Charlotte as her mother and father talk about how miserable their flight has been. Her dad, Victor, had given him a curt nod in introduction and held his arm out for Charlotte to obediently place herself into a hug that Lip could tell she didn’t want. Her mother Cynthia had kissed her cheeks in a European way to where they never actually touch. Both people looked polished, and barely tried to hide their wince when Charlotte said, “This is my husband, Phillip.”

Lip’s wife’s pretty brown eyes haven’t lifted from ground level since they met her parents at the terminal, an absent look on her face as her parents drone on and on with pleasantries.

“...and, honey, don’t you think it’s a little too cold for that outfit?” her mom finishes, as the three of them stand back and watch Lip load the car.

“‘M warm.”

“I am warm.” Her mother corrects.

“I am warm.”

“I don’t know how you could be, with this frigid Chicago air. Hopefully you’re not getting sick. Phillip, you always have to watch her, she never wants to wear a coat, always trying to walk around half naked and expect not to get sick-”

“We’d better hope she’s not having hot flashes.” 

“Victor!”

And that too. The snide remarks. Glances down at Charlotte’s stomach, and positioning himself between her and Lip as they walk back to the car. The muscle in Lip’s jaw jumps in irritation as her father continues to insinuate that the only reason he’s here is because he’s some white trash deadbeat that knocked his daughter up. 

“I’m not pregnant, Daddy.”

“As you’ve told me.” The older man grunts, sliding between his daughter and the car, climbing into the front passenger seat the second the lock clicks open, not even sparing her a glance. 

“Are you guys, uh, hungry? We could stop and get something to eat.” Lip sniffs, glancing up into the rearview mirror to get a look at Charlotte. She’s in the back, toying with her fingers as she stares out of the window. That is until her mom swats at her hand to get her to stop, and she takes to biting her lip instead.

“No thank you, young man, the hotel should be fine.” Victor huffs again, for the fiftieth fucking time since he’s been in the car. “Charlotte, I made you a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow, since you never took the time to find a physician yourself. Your mother will take you after we have breakfast. I assume you’ll be joining us, Phillip.”

Charlotte manages to look up at that, her voice resigned as she addresses her father. “Of course he will, Daddy, we’ll be with you bright early.”

The car goes silent for a moment before Victor mumbles under his breath, ‘you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’

“Daddy?”

“I’m sorry, are we supposed to pretend that this is okay? Cynthia, I tried, but this is fucking ridiculous!”

“Victor! Please.”

“Okay.” Lip grunts, pulling the car into one of the hotel parking spots in the far corner of the lot. 

“No, Charlotte Andrea Fisher, you are 19 years old. You are away from home for the first time, against my better judgment. You have been away for only 3 months. You are naive, and impulsive, and for some reason want to be like your cousin Veronica so damn bad. You are going to take your ass upstairs to the hotel room your mother and I got you and you are not shacking up with this boy-”

“He’s not a boy, he’s my husband, Dad.” Charlotte whimpers from the backseat. Lip grinds his teeth and unbuckles his seatbelt, catching her mother roll her eyes and rub her forehead as he climbs out of the car.

“Oh, god, the waterworks-”

“You are a little girl, and that is a boy. You’re talking about marriage, that sham is getting annulled, if it was even legal-” Victor follows suit, climbing out of the car and slamming the door, opening his wife’s before walking, meeting Lip at Charlotte’s door. The older man goes to tug it open, only to be stopped by Lip’s hand. “Move.”

“No. My wife is coming home with me.” he says calmly.

“Your wife? Your wife, she’s my daughter, and she’s coming with me and her mother-”

“Her mother and I.” Lip says smugly.

“Oh.” Victor cocks his head, taking a step closer to an unflinching Lip. “You think you're tough, boy?”

“You tell me, we’re from the same place.”

The older man glares past him to the car window again. Shifting his attention to Charlotte. “Charlotte Andrea Fisher-”

“Gallagher.” Her muffled voice calls from behind the cheap glass. “My last name is Gallagher now, Dad.”

It’s quiet. Soft. Her voice waivers. But still. She said it. And still, it fills Lip up with pride as he leans against the car door, using its keys to click it closed as he watches her mother drag her husband away. Forcing him to the hotel.

After he watches the fancy, sliding double doors close behind them and the yelling becomes a little more faint, Lip unlocks the car. The way she falls into his arms crushes him. The tears, the shaking, the sobs of ‘I thought they’d give us a chance’ that part hurt. 

Lip Gallagher has watched his parents abandon his siblings. Hit them. Steal from them. Lie. Everything in the book of bad parents. He’s been watching it his whole life. He’s numb to it. It’s life, he tells them. Doesn’t matter, they don’t matter. Frank and Monica. They’ve never been anything to them, and never would be.

But watching this. Watching Charlotte lose her parents in front of him, because of him, he’s never seen anything like it. He’s sad for her. He watched them rip her to shreds with words and disapproving looks. They came here and broke the love of his life within an hour and a half.

This wasn’t the final straw.

No, because Lip’s girl is sweet. This is something he’s always known, and in anyone else he’d call it a flaw. She’s like Debbie, but less vengeful. She forgives. Gives second…third…fourth chances. Hell, its the only fuckin’ way he’s been able to keep her, and normally, he’d thank whatever shitty higher power that’s up there that dropped this woman in his lap for him to hoard to himself but not today.

“She says she wants to say sorry for him. I’m not gonna talk to him, just her. She promised.”

“Bunny, I’m not gonna tell you don’t see your mom-”

“Good!” Charlotte chirps as Lip watches her tug on some notably baggy jeans over her shapely legs, and pull an oversized sweater over her head.

“‘M gonna tell you it’d be pretty fuckin’ stupid though.” he finishes, grabbing the edge of her sweater and pulling her into his lap as he sits on the bed. 

Charlotte smoothes her fingers over his cheek before leaning her forehead against his. “Hm, like threatening your boss's son?”

“Fuckin’ defendin’ your honor.” he grunts, tilting her toward him and patting her ass.

“My hero.”

“Exactly, and now I’m the fuckin’ dragon, lockin’ you up in the tower so the evil people who made the princess cry yesterday don’t get to do it again.”

“That’s really not how fairytales work. And dragons can’t lock doors.”

“Fuckin’ smartass.” Lip breathes, connecting his lips to hers, kissing her deeply. He squeezes her tightly, trying to wring every negative thought out of her head. “They hurt you.” he whispers against her lips.

“They’re my parents. They think they’re doing what’s best for me. They’re not. But that’s what they think.” she whispers back, pressing one more kiss to his lips before pulling away. “So, I’m gonna go to this doctor’s appointment. Do another pregnancy test. Show them we’re married because you loveee me. And then, I’m gonna tell my mom our love story, leaving out some key details. And I’m gonna make her love you like I do, Bubba.”

Lip sits back and takes in her words. Because maybe that is what she’ll do. Maybe Cynthia will reconsider and maybe that will make things better. Maybe they’ll understand their situation and that they love each other and he’s pretty sure they won’t fuckin’ love him but maybe they’ll understand that he fuckin’ loves her. “Hopefully not like you love me. You’d have some competition.” she gasps at that, smacking his arm. “What? You look alike!”

The plan was clear. Charlotte was supposed to go and charm the pants off her mom on Lip’s behalf, he was supposed to be at home, hold down the fort, and figure out what the hell he was going to say to his boss, to get his job back. 

Lip had set up shop. He’d plopped back on the run down couch in his house, and pulled one of his little siblings toys from underneath his ass and started rolling a joint on the table. It was time for him to play his part. Think. For him, and for his family. 

But then there was the knock. And then it turned into knocking. It was incessant.

“Fuck! Hold on. ‘M fuckin’ coming!” He calls, tripping over the plastic bat on the floor when he makes his way over to the door. “What-”

“Phillip.”

“I…what the fuck are you doin’ here? Come to yell at me s’more?” 

Victor Fisher stands with his arms crossed. Polished with a neat sweater and ironed pants, looking wildly uncomfortable and out of place in his own old neighborhood. “No, I…think I did enough of that yesterday. At least that’s what Cynthia tells me.”

“Okay,” Lip shrugs, leaning in the frame and catching Victor’s glance at the chipped paint. “Well, she tell you that she and Charlotte are going to the doctor?”

“Yes. It was my own idea to come down here and ask you to come get something to eat with me while we wait.”

The blond’s eyes narrow as he laughs incredulously. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.” 

“Not at all.” Victor sighs, crossing his arms. “I am extending an olive branch. For Charlotte’s sake. Grab the other end.”

For Charlotte’s sake.

“So tech. Good business.” 

“Technology and science are languages that I’ve always been able to speak. It pays too.” Lip shrugs, pushing a forkful of eggs into his mouth. 

“Well?” Victor asks without looking up. This has been their breakfast so far. Short, stilted conversation. Lip answering the questions Victor fires at him. Trying to gauge his reactions to everything he says. Pretending he wasn’t starting to hate this man.

“Gettin’ there.” 

“How many siblings do you have, Phillip?”

“Uh, five.” 

“Smart like you?” he asks, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“They’re smart.”

“But not like you.”

“Uh, no. Not like me.” Lip shifts in his seat, suddenly unable to follow the conversation.

“Hm.” Victor reaches to the side of the table, pouring more coffee into his cup and then into Lip’s. “Charlotte is an only child, you know that?”

“I know everything about Charlotte.”

“So, you know why we want her to go to the doctor so badly?” 

“Fuckin’- yes!” 

“You know she’s got chronic pain? That she suffers from sickle cell? She told you that?”

What?

Lip tries to keep a poker face as all of the wind is knocked out of his body. A thousand questions are swirling around in his head. His chest hurts. He didn’t know, why didn’t he know? He should have known-

“Do you know what happens when people who suffer from sickle cell go into crisis? What a flare up of chronic pain looks like for her?” Victor sighs, fully removing his glasses this time. “Probably not, you’ve known her for three months. But it happens, and it's bad. She…she can’t move. Barely eats, loses weight rapidly. The pains. The shakes. The crying. Are you prepared for that?”

“Yea-yes-”

“I’m sure you could. You’re a man. I understand that. You grew up here. You’ve had to be a man long before you were supposed to and that is unfair and I’m sorry that happened to you but the reality is, Charlotte is a girl. You two are a year apart, but you’re a man and she’s a girl. She grew up in a nice house, with me and her mother. She went to nice schools. We knew she was pretty, too pretty for her own good, so we protected her from the boys not worth keeping around-”

“Fuck you.” Lip scoffs.

“No, I’m not implying you’re not worth anything, Phillip. Boys like you from this area are diamonds in the rough. Just like me. I was just like you. And I got the girl. You have Charlotte, I had Cynthia. I know how it feels to hit the lottery.” Victor pauses to take a drink of his coffee, gesturing to the waitress for the check. “But Phillip, I don’t speak to my siblings. My parents. They were deadbeats. My siblings stayed here. I left them behind. They hate me. All of them. And over time, I’ve learned that I don’t care. I chose Cynthia. I chose me. They were holding me back. I let them go. Because you’ll learn, Phillip, that getting there only gets there, when you can focus. You can’t keep two families afloat.” 

Lip works his jaw irritably, feeling his skin heat with irritation as he weighs what his father and law says. “What are you trying to say? I should abandon my family?” 

“No. I’m saying it's not too late to choose them and annul your marriage. We both know you can’t take care of Charlotte. Not the way she should be. Not for a long, long time. So give her back to people who can. People who can make it worth you and your family’s while.”

“I…” Lip grits his teeth at the sound of his voice cracking. “I love her. I take care of her.” “She’s been living here, working as a stripper under your care. Want better for her, Phillip.” Victor says, snapping his checkbook closed as he slides the piece of paper across the table. The waitress comes over with the bill, dropping it between the two men and Lip absentmindedly reaches into his pocket to find some money, pausing when the older man holds his hand up to halt him. “Don’t worry, son. I’ve got it.”

Sending the message was hard, but it was the only way Lip knew how. 

He knew he couldn’t look Charlotte in the face yet. No. He needed more time. Time to think. Time to decide he was doing the right thing. Time to finish talking himself into this. 

Victor told him what he needed to do. Bend her heart, not break it. Neither of them wanted to see her broken. Just hurt her enough that she’s prepared to go home. Charlotte’s stubborn, so she won’t just give up. She won’t run to her parents so easily. So Lip would need to be able to hold out long enough that she would give up. Get tired. Realize it was over and go home. 

And Lip would be able to pay the bills in the house, for the next three months. One month for each one he and Charlotte had together. He would be able to get his family a car. He would have something to drive back and forth to work in. A real car. Not a run down busted up car barely off the junk lot. A real car. One that he could keep for years.

So, he came home. Her mom kept her out a long enough time, clearly in on this plan to write him out of Charlotte’s fuckin’ life. He went to his house. He looked his siblings in the face and told them that he was ending things with Charlotte. And they were fuckin’ pissed. The kids weren’t talking to him. Debbie said she hated him. But she’d get over it. That’s what Victor had said when he’d told him how they loved Charlotte. 

Carl mumbled something about a ‘waste’ and shoved past him. Liam doesn’t understand. And Lip knows that he’ll feel horrible when his baby brother wakes up tomorrow asking for her.

Ian and Fiona were the worst. Ian started rattling insults immediately. Telling him what a piece of shit he was. He knows. Telling him this is the only chance at something good, at love he’ll actually get. He fuckin’ knows.

Fiona just asked so many questions. Why? What happened? Are you sure? 

That all stopped when Lip shrugged, schooling an emotionless expression onto his face, dropping the check onto the kitchen table and snapping his phone closed as he finished his message. “It’s done.” 

All of that hurt. It fucking sucked and he felt like blowing his brains out when the flood of text messages started rolling in. But nothing could beat the crying. The begging. 

“Bubba, please.” Her voice is small on the opposite side of the door, the whining lilt to it has his entire body tense as he leans against the wood, staring at the wall over Ian’s shoulder, refusing to make eye contact with any of his siblings. “I love you. Why are you doing this?”

“Lip-” Fiona starts, cutting herself off when her little brother looks up at her, wide blue eyes watery with tears, an exhausted look on his face, jaw clenched so hard she worried his teeth would crack. She thinks this is a mistake. She loves Charlotte, and even more, Lip loves Charlotte more than anything, but this was his decision, and he was her brother. 

“I love you, what did I do? M’sorry.” she whimpers, soft thump letting the three siblings know she’d slid down the door. “Please, I love you. Please…st-stop.” 

The three eldest Gallaghers stand there in a stalemate. Ian shifts on his feet, quietly shaking his head as he looks away. Fiona watches her brother struggle somberly, wondering if she could have done anything that would have avoided this. 

And Lip, silent, straight faced, completely devoid of emotion as he rests his head against the door, staring forward. The only indication that he feels anything at all is the few tears that managed to escape down his face. 

It goes on like this for an hour and a half. At 40 minutes, Ian scoffs, mumbling under his breath as he storms his way up the stairs, slamming his room door closed, causing his sister to flinch. Once the standoff reaches 1 hour and 15 minutes, Fiona sighs, scrubbing a tired hand down her face before patting an unmoving Lip’s shoulder, retiring to bed herself.

The sobbing and constant knocking at the door had slowed to quiet pleas, still making Lip’s chest hurt just as bad. He’s doing what’s best for her. He knows that. It hurts now, but she’ll recover from this. She’ll be better, she’ll have a chance to do better than him. 

Lip will never recover. He knows that too. He knows that this is his better. His best. Being with Charlotte is everything. That’s why he doesn’t deserve it. He should’ve never tried to drag her down with him. He can’t give her the life she deserves, or the things she should have access to. He could only offer her hard work, and being bound to mental illness and alcoholism. Trapping her with a baby, forcing her to live in the fucking slums and dance for a couple of bucks from creepy frat boy fucks and drunk limp dick losers like his father. 

Soon he can hear footsteps approaching the doorway, Charlotte is immediately riled up by the presence of whoever it is. “No, no, no, he needs to talk to me. Something is wrong, I don’t know what I did- Phillip, please.” 

“C’mon Lottie, let’s go home.” Lip recognizes Kev’s muffled voice from the opposite side of the door. After some quiet arguing, he finally releases a breath when he hears the wood creak under the weight of them walking away. 

The man ignores the crushing feeling in his chest, the gut wrenching pain that comes with the realization of what he’d just done. A numbness spreads over his limbs as he hazily makes his way over to and up the stairs, breathing shakily. He reaches the doorway of his dark room and stops there. He wants his bed. He wants to climb under the covers and pretend he didn’t just blow up his fuckin’ life. But he can’t make it over the threshold. 

This is her room too. He didn’t think this through. She’s touched everything. How was he supposed to lay in the bed that they laid in together? Her clothes are still in the drawers. Pictures still taped to the mirror and walls. Fuck. 

It’s humiliating, the way he breaks down. Strong shoulders shaking with stronger sobs. Body curling over until his knees simply give out, he sits on the floor next to the crack in the wall where Carl had drilled a hole to hide drugs for Frank. The sound of miscellaneous toys left out squeaking under him. Lip pulls his legs to his chest and cries, because it’s all he can do. Despite every ounce of his being telling him, ‘stop being a bitch,’ ‘the fuck are you cryin’ about, pussy?’ he can’t help it. And he doesn’t stop. Not when his throat started getting sore, or his back started to hurt. Not when the sun starts to peak in through the half broken window in the hallway. Not when he feels his little sister lay a blanket over him before sitting beside him, quietly resting her head on his shoulder.

Charlotte doesn’t fare much better. She finally fell asleep with V rubbing her back, sleeping in her cousin’s bed while Kev slept downstairs. When she wakes she has a pounding headache, her eyes are puffy and burn. She wraps one of the blankets around herself before dragging to the bathroom, brushing her teeth and splashing water on her face. 

She’s hurt. Heartbroken and confused. She knows why he’s doing this. Her parents said something. Did something. Something that made him decide she isn’t worth the trouble. 

But she wasn’t going to give up without a fight. She loves Phillip. She loves her husband, and she didn’t take their time together lightly. She pulls on one of Phillip’s sweatshirts and jumps her way into a pair of jeans before looking at herself in the mirror. 

“Hey, honey,” V’s soft voice comes from behind her, Charlotte’s cousin appears over her shoulder, wrapping her arms around the younger woman. “I didn’t think you’d be up.”

“I’ve gotta,” she sniffs, combing her fingers through her hair. “I’ve gotta take Liam to daycare. And um, make sure Carl remembers his science project. See if Phillip wants me to have lunch with him at work today, I could…I could make him something-”

“Lottie.” V interrupts, “Didn’t Lip-”

“He’s confused.” Charlotte says sharply, swinging her purse over her shoulder, holding her hand out to her cousin expectantly. “My key to their house is in our room. I…don’t normally need it.” 

“Charlotte, listen. I’m not saying this to hurt you, but that boy left you crying on the porch in the cold, that sends a message. Don’t you think you two need space?”

The younger woman shakes her head stubbornly, looking forward to the door, refusing to look at V. “No. Space will let him spiral. My parents made him doubt me, I’m gonna show him that they don’t know what they’re talking about, that I’m what he wants and needs, no matter what they say.”

Determined, Charlotte makes her way next door, unlocking the door with V’s keys and gets to work immediately. Frank is passed out on the couch, so she nudges him awake with a beer at the ready, guiding the drunken man out of the door so he won’t be there when everyone wakes up. Next she starts on the bacon and eggs, brewing a cup of coffee before climbing the stairs to grab Liam, changing and dressing him. “G’morning Liam, did you sleep well?” she coos, pressing kisses to his cheeks as she makes her way back down the stairs. 

When she gets down there, Fiona is sitting at the table, eyes going wide as she sees her sister-in-law. “Lottie? I…when did-”

“Early this morning. I know yesterday was really weird, and I’m sorry you guys had to see that-”

“Hey,” Fiona smiles, taking Liam from Charlotte’s arms. “There’s no embarrassment with family. Gallaghers know no shame, girl, and you’re one of us.” 

And she means it. Fiona watches as a wave of relief washes over the girl bustling around her kitchen, dumping fresh bacon onto a plate. “Thanks Fi.” Charlotte tucks some hair behind her ear, sliding a bowl of cheerios in front of the toddler. “I’m sorry to even ask you this, but did he talk to you about anything? Like something they said or s-something I did-”

“Mornin.” 

The deep voice makes Charlotte’s heart drop to her stomach. She turns slowly, as if she’s approaching an animal that’s likely to scare. And there he is. Standing there in his pajamas, hair mussed, bags under his eyes. But still handsome as ever to Charlotte. “Phillip.”

The blond pauses for a beat. His blue eyes are cloudy for a moment as he takes in the girl before he slips past her, ignoring her extended hand, offering a mug of coffee, opting to open the fridge and grab the orange juice instead. “Hey, you come here to pick up your stuff?”

“My…my stuff? Phillip-”

“I uh, gotta get to work.” he sniffs, grabbing his bag from it’s place on the kitchen floor, slinging it over his shoulder with his jacket in his hand.

“But-” Charlotte flinches as the door slams shut, shoulders tense as she stares after her husband. Fiona quietly slips behind the girl, resting her hand on her shoulder, apologetic for her brother’s behavior, but unable to do anything about it. “He means it.”

Charlotte had whispered so quietly that her sister-in-law didn’t catch it, leaning in for clarity. “What?” 

“Phillip, he’s leaving me, and he means it.” It was like a rock landed in her stomach, both painful and grounding, Charlotte steels herself. “Fine.” she huffs, grabbing her own bag and storming out of the house, slamming the door shut behind her.

Phillip’s day had been absolute shit so far. He woke up to his boss’s daddy’s assistant calling him in for a meeting. No doubt calling him in to fucking fire him for beating the living shit out of his pussy ass son. Lip doesn’t regret it. Not really. But he regrets losing his fucking job. 

On top of that, he came downstairs to see the one person he couldn’t handle seeing. She looked so damn pretty, mixing up in his kitchen, bein’ with his family and shit. The hopeful look in her eye as she saw him enter the room. He didn’t deserve for her to fuckin’ look at him like that. He wanted to kick his own ass for how broken her pretty little face looked when he dismissed her. He loves her. That’s why he’s doing this. Her eyes were pink and puffy. She’d been crying for him. The fact that he was fighting with himself not to like that…he’s a sick fuck. Like he’s said, he doesn’t deserve her. 

Lip doesn’t even bother asking Kev to use his car to get to work, opting to take a walk to the train station to clear his head. He was in no real rush to be fired. As he blows into his hands to warm them, he lets his mind wander to the last place it needs to, but the only place it seems to want to go. 

“So, what the fuck are they mad at her for? They don’t wanna do the band shit anymore?”

Charlotte giggles, running her fingers through his curls as he lays his head on her lap, scowling at the television. She was educating him on Disney movies; it seemed that in the process of raising his siblings along with his sister, he’d never gotten the chance to experience sitcoms and original movies that were formative for her childhood. He’d said, ‘I’m not watchin’, put your shit on and I’ll take a nap’ but here he was, watching intently with a wonder that made her heart ache. “Guess they don’t have your work ethic, bubba.”

Lip hums contentedly, bringing her free hand to his lips, absently pressing kisses to her palm as he continues watching the movie. “Yeah, I know you liked her little rapping white boyfriend.”

“Um, excuse me? Even though he’s cute-”

“Knew it.”

“And you happen to also be a white, blonde with blue hair, most of my exes haven’t been white, I’ll have you know.”

He tried to swallow down the comment, really. But he fuckin’ couldn’t hold himself back, sue him. “Yeah, how many exes are we talkin’ about?”

He expects for her to get offended, or be evasive. Tell him to fuck off. That’s what any of his sorta exes would’ve done. Hell, that’s what he would’ve done. With anyone but her. He’ll tell her whatever she needs to know. But Charlotte has soft edges. Even when he’s being a dick, she has softness for him he’d never experienced before. 

“Not many, baby, just like, five.” She smiles gently, smoothing her hand over his hair again. “You’re the only one who matters now, Phillip.” she takes a deep breath, leaning down to press her forehead against his, and Lip can’t help but lean up to meet her, eyes trained on her face as hers slip closed. “Love you.” she mumbles.

She’s everything. “I love you, Bunny.”

With that, her brown eyes open, staring down at him with joy, she wrinkles her nose. “Ew, you like me?” she teases, squealing in his ear as he pushes himself up, grabbing her thigh and tugging her down on the couch.

“Fuckin’ brat.” he chuckles breathily against her lips, slapping her thigh lightly as he descends on her, her giggles ringing out into the air.

“Fuck.” the blond huffs out, roughly wiping at a stray tear before storming up to an abandoned car, left on the frozen grass and kicking at one of the doors, denting it slightly. He breathes heavily, shaking his head and turning to go back to his path to the train. Her laughter. That fuckin’ pretty ass laugh that she’s gonna end up giving to someone else makes him feel like he could vomit. He could hear it. In his head. It used to be nice. Now it feels like his heart is being wrenched from his fuckin’ chest. Damnit! 

Lip drops his bag onto the ground, lifting his leg and kicking the car again. And again. And again. Until he stops. Then, he starts punching the windows, his knuckles start getting bloody as the glass shatters and breaks under his efforts. But he keeps going. He just keeps punching, and kicking, and screaming…? When did he start doing that? 

He was so focused on what he was doing that he didn’t even notice someone approaching him.

“Lip…?” A familiar voice calls out. Familiar, but not the one haunting him now. “Well, it’s been a while, I can guess how you’ve been.”

He stops, turning to look at the person intruding on his break down, brows furrowed. The blond reaches in his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, raising it to pluck one into his mouth before offering it to them. “The fuck are you doin’ here?”

“Needed a nice bed, and food. Came to check on my mom. Aren’t you gonna ask me how I’ve been doin’?” 

To say Charlotte was pissed off was an understatement. Hot, angry tears stream down her face as she swings open the door to V and Kev’s house, throwing her purse on the floor. She tries to level out her breath as she pushes into the bathroom. Charlotte rests her hands on the sink as she watches herself cry in the mirror. Sobs racking her body she doubles over with the force of her crying. She was glad no one was home to see her like this.

She doesn’t even know what she’s doing when she climbs into the tub, bringing her knees to her chest. She raises her left hand to look at the small ring on her finger. It’s not what she used to picture. When she was younger, she would envision her life. She would dream about what her ring would look like. What her husband would be like. 

It was always a ring like her mother’s, a large house like she grew up in and the some faceless prince who spun her in circles but surprisingly never spoke. 

This life she was building with Phillip was nothing like that. They live in a small house with his siblings, he’d shared a room until he was 18 and got her ring from his drunken father. It was small, and wouldn’t pass as a kids toy where she came from. Phillip was quiet compared to his siblings, but generally loud, crass, and aggressive. With everyone except her at least. He was a prince. He does spin her around, and hug her, and kiss her and look at her like she’s everything. The life he gave her was better than she’d imagined. 

But he’s ready to throw it away. And it hurts. Charlotte is tired of being the one being hurt. 

She sits in silence for a few moments, staring at the tiles on the wall before she can distantly hear her phone chiming in her purse outside the bathroom door. She tries to ignore the clench in her chest, the little glimmer of hope that it’s Phillip, calling to say sorry, that he’d changed his mind and he was coming over so they could make up. Charlotte pushes out of the tub at the third chime, walking on unsteady legs over to the bag, sniffling and tucking hair behind her ear as she squints to read the messages.

It’s her manager from the club, asking if anyone was interested in working the day party for today because the promoter’s entertainment fell through. Normally, she’d turn this down. She knows how Lip feels about her new job, and for her it was only a means to an end. They were discussing alternatives until this shit started. But maybe working a party would be a good way for her to get her mind off of things, and make some extra cash. Especially since it seems she’ll be doing things by herself for now on. 

“So you got married? That wasn’t a joke?”

“Uh, nope, real shit.” Lip takes a final swig of his beer before sailing it into the street, smiling softly at the glass shattering before opening another. 

“Hm, never thought you were the marrying type.” 

“M’not.” 

Karen shrugs, sipping her own beer and looking up at him. “Must’ve been pretty though, to get you down the aisle. Or pregnant. Both?”

“Not pregnant.” He says, opening his phone and showing her a picture of Charlotte. He supposes he’s gonna have to stop having those at the ready, if he’s gonna move on. As if he could. 

“Damn, she’s sexy.” Karen’s eyes widen as she grabs the phone. She remembers the current situation and bites her lip. “Sorry.”

“S’fine. She is. Fuckin’ beautiful.” 

Karen looks out into the road again, hesitating for a moment before nudging Lip’s shoulder. “Want me to take your mind off of it? It’s been a while.” 

Before Lip had even met Charlotte he had told himself he’d never fuck Karen again. She’s better now, sure, but she also almost fucking ruined his life multiple times. Once he had met Charlotte, he hadn’t even thought of it. He really didn’t consider that he’d ever fuck someone else again. A realization that surprised himself more than anyone, considering he’d never been the monogamous type. 

But now he’s in pain. And he doesn’t think he’ll ever be with Charlotte again. That makes him feel cold in a way that he’s never felt before. Lip, desperate for any kind of break he can get from what he’s feeling, rolls his eyes to the sky. “Yeah, fuck it, why not.”

“Gee, you used to be a lot more excited for me to get you off.” she mumbles against his cheek before leaning in to kiss his lips.

Lip turns his head away, pulling his mouth from her reach, “Don’t um, kiss me.”

Karen looks at him for a moment before laughing. “Okay, kissing used to be your thing, not mine.” As she kneels in front of him, Lip finds himself squirming uncomfortably, looking everywhere but down when he feels her unzipping his pants. “Um…are you…is it like, too cold?”

“Uh, no, I’m…gimme a second.” He feels like he can’t breath, the ring on his finger feels like it’s literally fucking scalding his skin. 

“Oh-kay.” 

A few more moments pass and Karen speaks again. “Do you want me to help you? Is there anything I can do?”

“Nope, no, not at all. Just, shut up for one second, please.” He brings his hands together, tugging the ring off and putting it in his pocket and prays.

“You can think of her if you need to. I don’t mind.” she tries again. 

“Um, yeah, maybe.” He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, and lets the images of Charlotte that he’s racked up over time run across his brain. It feels good to think of her. To sift through the memories of her smiling up at him, holding him close, crying out his name. But he couldn’t trick his mind or body. He’s in love. Still. And she’s not the girl on her knees in front of him. “No, no.”

“No?”

“Yeah, sorry, I can’t I’m…I don’t think I can fuck someone who’s not my wife. At least right now.” Or ever. Shit. I’m never gonna get my dick wet again.

“Jeez, that’s serious.” Karen says. She hops up, tucking her hands in her pockets. “What is she? A contortionist?” Lip just looks at her and she sobers, her smile dropping. “Sorry. I’m serious. I’m talking to you as a friend, talk to me. Your wife is hot, and nice, and clearly has a hold over your dick, so what’s the problem, why’d you leave her?”

“She’s perfect.” Lip sighs, lighting another cigarette, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he works back the lump in his throat. He’ll be damned if he cries about this in front of Karen.

“Okay so-”

“She’s perfect. She’s everything, she deserves everything and I am stuck here. I live here. I was born here, I’m gonna live and die here and I don’t want her here to do it with me. So I can’t have her, that’s fine I’m teaching myself that it's fine but it fuckin’ sucks! It fuckin’ sucks Karen, and it’s fuckin’ worse because she’s willing to stay. I hate her for not making this easy!” He roughly throws the bottle into the street, barely missing a parked car.

“Oof. Okay. Clearly, you need to get your mind off of things.” She says, scooting the remainder of the six pack the pair of them bought from the liquor store across the street away from him. “C’mon, let’s get you a real drink and some recreational drugs.”

“You’re making some good tips out there girl, they’re loving you at this party.” 

Charlotte smiles briefly before leaning over the vanity, reapplying her lip gloss in the mirror. 

“Of course they are, they’re actually seeing her. Normally, guests only get a glimpse of the back of her head, before she runs into the back again to check in with her man.” 

“Well, he won’t be checking in today, so-”

“What?”

Trish leans back in her own seat to look at her friend. “Did something happen with you and Lip?”

Charlotte tries to ignore the quiver in her lip and stare forward into the mirror, focusing on the pink she’s applying on her lips. “I dunno, he’s doing his own thing, I’m doing mine, I guess.” 

“Well, that seems-”

“Girl, about time!” Kelsey, one of the girls Charlotte met through the club, claps, pushing her way into Charlotte’s seat. “All you talk about is that man and his gaggle of kids. Now, we can invite you to do fun stuff. We can go out!”

“They’re his siblings, first of all and they’re good kids.” Charlotte sighs, smoothing her hands over her hair.

“Gallagher kids? Okay.”

Charlotte’s eyes narrow, her mouth opening for her to ask her co-worker what the fuck she meant by that, something she would’ve never done a couple of months ago. But Trish beats her to it, patting her arm and shaking her head. Instead of telling her other coworkers about herself, Charlotte settles for rolling her eyes and mumbling, “We could’ve always gone out.”

“Please, the way you used to all but trip over yourself running out the door to climb back on Lip’s dick? When would we have the time to ask?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with the girl loving her man, Renee.” Trish intervenes, leaving her arm tossed around Charlotte’s shoulders. Was she really that pathetic? Did she really spend all her time running behind Phillip? She supposes that she never took the time to think about it while it was happening, but is this what everyone thinks? “Just because you don’t have one.”

“Well,” Kelsey shrugs, rubbing more glitter lotion onto her chest and meeting Charlotte’s eyes in the mirror. “Doesn’t seem like Lottie does either anymore. So, Lottie, have you dislodged yourself from Gallagher’s side or not? Are we going out”

Charlotte fully plans to say yes. For the first time since she’d met her husband, she thought that maybe this is what she should have been doing. She’s only ever had two identities in her life. Mr. and Mrs. Fisher’s daughter, and Phillip Gallagher’s wife. She’s never been Charlotte. Not when she left home, not when she got her first job, she just went from being one person’s possession to another. Maybe this is all a sign that she should focus on being alone. However miserable that sounds. That’s why, whether you believe her or not, she was going to say yes. 

Until her phone rings.

“What’d you even give him anyway?”

“Don’t fucking make it sound like that, it was just some weed and booze!” 

“Fuckin’ weed and booze, he’s on his fuckin’ ass Karen! Fuckin’ idiot!”

“Fuck you! How was I supposed to know he drinks and smokes like a little bitch now?” the blonde girl huffs loudly as she turns back to the drunk man in front of them, barely intelligible as he slams his hands down on the bar again, demanding to be served another drink. “Lip, seriously, we need to fuckin’ go-”

“Get the fuck off me, I’m married.” 

The bar owner emerges from the back again, his cellphone in hand, a scowl on his face. “Aye, Gallagher, she’s takin’ too long, he’s scaring the real customers, get him outta here before I gotta call the cops.”

Ian groans, running his hand down his face, “Yeah, good luck cleanin’ up all the coke you’ve got on these tables before they get here. Fuck off, your place is a dive, Billy.” Turning back to his brother, the redhead, tugs his arm, making the shorter brother stumble but ultimately not moving him at all. “Lip, come the fuck on man.”

“Just fuckin’ leave me alone. Not listenin’ fuckin’ idiot-” he slurs, shoving Ian a little before grabbing a half drunk beer from the bar and downing it. 

“God-fuckin’-damnit-” Ian growls snatching the already empty bottles. His brown eyes catch on something over at the door and his tense stance settles. “Thank god.” he mumbles under his breath.

Karen’s eyes follow his over to a woman who looks just like the one Lip had shown her earlier, a tense, concerned look on her pretty face. Her cheeks dimple as her lips turn down into a frown upon spotting the spectacle in front of her. Her hair is tied up into a clean bun, her body covered with a matching sweat suit. Her eyes look exhausted. So that’s the wife?

“Phillip-”

“Bunny, you’re here, come drink with me, baby.” The blond offers her a crooked, drunk smile that has the same knee weakening effect on both women. His muscled arm shoots out, wrapping around the girl’s waist and tugging her to him, all but dragging her into his lap. 

“No, Phillip, it’s time to go home. Let’s get you up.”

Big blue eyes roll closed, his forehead falling forward, uncoordinatedly thunking against the woman’s forehead. She doesn’t flinch, just keeping her tired, sad eyes on him as he inhales deeply, breathing her in. “We gonna go home together?”

It’s the softest voice Karen has ever heard the eldest Gallagher son use. He’d spoken to her softly before. They’d been best friends, lovers. He was always scared of her leaving…rightfully so. But this, it was like he was scared that she was going to break if he rose his voice too much. It was like he was whispering a secret that’s just for them and everyone else in the room is intruding. Karen hadn’t ever seen anything like it. She likes this for him.

The girl was ordering water, grabbing a straw from over the bar and guiding it to Lip’s mouth as he stayed close, rubbing his hands along her hips and mumbling about missing her between gulps. She hadn’t even looked at Karen, her eyes had locked on Lip since arriving. “Um, I’m Karen by the way.”

Big brown eyes finally take her in. There’s no disdain behind them. No hate. She doesn’t look at her like every other girl who’s ever loved Lip has looked at Karen. She just offers a tired look. Glossed lips parting briefly, snapping shut again when she feels the Lip’s head droop forward onto her shoulder, quick hands shooting up to cup the back of his curls. “I’m Charlotte. I’ve got to get him home, are you okay?”

“I’m..I’m sorry?”

Charlotte bites her lower lip in determination as she pats his cheek, getting him to stir awake again. Her eyes never return to acknowledge Karen. “Up, Bubba, up. Are you okay to get home? I…need to take him home, are you okay?” 

Oh. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay, Ian, can you please help him, help him stand?” Karen watches as this woman, Charlotte helps hoist Lip’s weight onto Ian, the redhead slinging his brother’s arm over his shoulder, nodding at Karen as they make their way out of the bar with her…ex? Best friend?

She can’t help but compare herself to the girl. She knew that they were both pretty, generally attractive in different ways. Both short. Big eyes. Round faces. Their difference physically was glaringly obvious, but that wasn’t what mattered. It was in the eyes. Everything is in the eyes. Not the color, but the looks.

When the evening started to turn sour, Karen had been fucking annoyed. She hates babysitting. Hates having to take care of people. That’s why she’s always loved being around Lip in one way or another. That’s why they’d been such good friends. He was the caretaker. He takes care of people. His family, neighborhood kids, her. He doesn’t ask for anything for himself aside from the occasional blowie, and it was mostly a joke. 

Until he asked for more. Until he asked for love, attention and care and a partner. Things that Karen had no interest in. Things that crazy bitch Mandy wasn’t able to give him. He needed too much. He went from something easy to do, someone easy to be around to being this person who needs things. 

It was hard, too hard. Being with Lip is exactly the daunting task people think it would be. But Charlotte, his wife, she’s doing it. She looks exhausted, pissed off, and just caught her husband hanging out with his ex. But she came. She managed to unclench her jaw and offer him a soft look and kind voice. 

Karen had been poison to him. She knows that. She was bad for him, and to be honest, she’d thought that even with the time had passed he wouldn’t have been strong enough to get her out of his system. But, she should have known better than to underestimate Lip Gallagher. He found something good. Someone for him. 

Good for him.

“I know you’re mad at’me.”

“Shut up, man, you’re just gonna make stuff worse.”

“M’talkin to my wife, motherfucker, you shut up.” Lip slurs as Ian all but drags him down the street. “Sweetheart-”

“Phillip, please.” Charlotte begs, voice cracking as she refuses to turn around and face him. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her own form, walking several paces ahead of the Gallagher brothers up the dark road. “Please.” 

It had been going on since they started walking. He keeps trying to talk to her. He keeps calling her all of these sweet names and they fucking hurt. They hurt like him telling her that they could get their marriage annulled. They hurt like him telling her to go with her parents. They fucking hurt like him let her sit on his front porch crying and begging just to see him as he sat on the other side of the door. And now, she understands that he’s drunk or high or whatever, but she needs him to stop talking. 

Her plea is answered with the silence she asked for. Shocked that he actually went silent, Charlotte whips around to see if he’d fallen asleep, but is met with big blue eyes with dilated pupils, brows softened as he meets her shaky gaze. 

The woman turns around so he can’t see her chin tremble as she leads the group onto the streets. Another voice breaks the silence, over the sound of three sets of footsteps, only one set steady, the other two, sloppy and wavering. “Lottie, what do you wanna do?”

She knows what he’s asking. They’re rounding their homes. Where should he put him? Is she going to stay with him? And she immediately feels shame wash over herself. She knows the answers to all of those questions. She should be embarrassed. This man has treated her like shit over the last 24 hours. She hates how he made her feel about herself. She didn’t understand how he could be both the man who strolled past her as if he didn’t know her this morning and the one who was just looking at her the way he did. 

But she’s weak, and he’s everything. 

And she’s already shifting his weight from his brother's arms into hers, stumbling a little under it as she guides him toward her cousin’s house.

“Charlotte.”

“It’s okay.” she breathes. “I’ve got him.”

And she struggles getting him to the door. He tries to help, she can tell. But he’s too fucked up, his motor skills are lacking and only set back any progress she makes. She grips the railing with her spare hand as she helps him up the last step. She tells him to watch his step as she leads him through the doorway, eyes locking V’s as the wooden floors creak under his steps. She ignores the disappointed look on her cousin’s face as she guides her husband to her room. Their room. 

But as she pulls the shoes from his feet and helps him into bed, she’s confident in one thing. Charlotte knows she loves this man. It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks the breaking point should be, or who they envision her with. She wants him. And she was going to keep acting like it.

Charlotte feels a tightness around her waist as she wakes up in the chair she’d dragged into the bedroom once she’d gotten Phillip settled. Her eyes are already watering as they peel open, burning from tears and exhaustion. 

“I fucked up, Bunny.”

“Yeah,” Charlotte sighs, sniffling a little and letting her head drop back against the wall. “How bad?”

“I fuckin’ hurt you-” his voice is muffled against her stomach, his arms tightening around her, fingers squeeing and releasing the fabric of her shirt. 

“Yes.”

“I hate that. M’just fucked up, y’know? But m’sorry, baby, m’sorry.”

Charlotte is annoyed by the sob that leaves her body involuntarily, causing him to pull her even closer to him, her butt almost hanging off of the chair. She’s even more annoyed that she’s wondering if his knees hurt from kneeling on the floor in front of her. She shouldn’t care. “You left me outs-side alone.”

“I know, baby, I know.” she feels a wet spot forming on her shirt and tries to stop her lower lip from shaking. “Fuckin’ supposed to be taking care of you. I’m a shitty husband, you deserve better. And I’m trying to be that, I swear, Charlotte I fuckin’ swear. I…I’m gettin’ to keep my job, and m’gonna save more, gonna get us some more money, just gimme a little more time, sweetheart. I know this fuckin’ sucks, but I’m gonna do better-”

“You’re hurting me.” Charlotte mumbles, staring up at the ceiling, letting the tears freely fall down her cheeks. 

Suddenly his arms are gone from her waist and he’s staring up at her, frantically running his hands through his curls. “M’sorry, I was holding you too tight-”

“Have I done anything to make you believe I won’t wait? Have I cheated on you? Made you feel bad about not having a house for us? Buying a car right now? Anything? What did I do to deserve you telling me you didn’t want to be with me anymore? Stop hurting me!” She finishes with a stomp, feeling childish. Lip is quiet as he listens to her, his hand running along her thigh in soothing strokes.

“You’re perfect. You didn’t do anything, Charlotte. That’s why I was fuckin’ tryin’ to do the right thing.” Lip huffs, clenching his jaw anxiously. “I was tryin’ to give you up. Because there’s somethin’ wrong with me Charlotte. I can’t get out of my head. Everyday I wake up and hear how too fuckin’ good for me on loop in my head, and then people remind me, and I can say fuck ‘em, they’re not you, I don’t care what they think, but then your parents came-”

“Fuck them too.”

“No,” Lip pushes up off the floor and paces in the room. “Not fuck them, because yes, they’re fuckin’ assholes, but they made you, and you’re fuckin’ everything, so they are pretty much the authority on what’s good shit and what isn’t. I don’t deserve you, they know it, I know it, for some fuckin’ reason, you don’t know it, so let me make this clear for you, Bunny. This shit shouldn’t be so hard. I’m hurting you. That’s not what being in love with you feels like for me. My love for you isn’t good enough, because it’s making you suffer. Being in love with you gives me a fuckin’ reason to breathe. So I was trying to be fuckin’ good. And let you go.”

Charlotte watches as he finishes, standing in front of her. Blue eyes bloodshot. The veins in his neck popping out, his chest rising and falling with effort. He looks so serious. And all she can do is laugh. Literally, put her head in her hands and laugh. 

“Um…what the fuck?” he asks incredulously, watching her shoulders shake with her laughter. 

“You’re such an asshole, Phillip.” she giggles, wiping her wet cheeks, gasping in an attempt to stop her own laughter. 

“I’m really not fuckin’ gettin’ the joke here.”

Charlotte shakes her head, crossing her legs as she sits up fully in the chair, trying not to break at the confusion on his face. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late for you to decide that you want to save me the trouble of being in love with you? You pursued me, you asked me to marry you, you made me love you and it's too late. I’m stuck. You leave, I’m still hurt. You stay, you can choose to man up, make good on your promises, stop feeling sorry for yourself and be a good husband. You want to stop hurting me, then stop hurting me. Stop talking about me deserving better and be better.”

The couple stares at each other from across the room, nothing but white noise from the house fills the air as Charlotte’s challenge hangs between them. A few beats pass before Lip begins slightly nodding his head, the same focused face he keeps when he’s working on a project from work, or doing people’s taxes for extra money. Lip smooths his hand over his jaw, clearing his throat. “Okay. I’ll be better.” 

“Okay.” 

“Can I…uh, hold on a second.” The blond murmurs, crossing the floor and places his hand on her jaw, dragging her up into a deep kiss, absolutely breathing her in as he nearly pushes her chair back with the force he pushes against her. He breaks away only lightly, his lips against hers, as he speaks. “I love you. I’ll be better.”

“I love you too.” she smiles. “And I know.” 

This is good…this is better. I’ll deal with the rest later.

[obscure-fanpage]

Would you be willing to write a Loona × Beelzebub/Queen Bee Fanfic? I really like their dynamic with Enemies to Lovers in all, and I think you could really make use of Bee's giant form! (This isn't ment to pressure you at all, everything you write should be something you want to write)

Raising Hell

Pairing: Loona x Beelzebub

Summary: Loona agrees to go to another party at Bee's house, but finds herself in trouble. Who else can come to her aid except the Queen Bee of Gluttony herself.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Swearing, Threats of Violence, Alcohol Use, Suggestive Content, Sexual Coercion

A/N: Thank you for your request! I absolutely love this pairing. Sorry, it took me so long to post it, I couldn't decide what direction I wanted to go with it. I'll probably post more works with this pairing or some Loona/Bee/Tex fics at some point. Enjoy!

P.S. The song lyrics are from Brittany Spears - If You Seek Amy

“Loona, hey! Glad you could make it!” Tex holds the door open as I walk inside Bee’s house. It’s already packed with other hellhounds and all levels of demons and imps. Tex grabs us both cups of beelzejuice from one of the tables they have set up.

“Thanks for inviting me. Sorry, my dad kinda crashed the last party.” I cringe thinking of that night. Thankfully, Tex seems chill like always.

“Look, no hard feelings. Bee’s been wanting you to come back over since you had to leave early the last time,” just as he says this Beelzebub zips over to us and yanks me into a hug. 

“How you doing bitch? Got enough to drink? You know, it’s really cool that you could hang with us tonight. Sorry things got a little tense last time. I’ve been telling Tex, that I want this party to be the shit! I have a whole new set planned, so you better get ready to go fucking wild!” After Bee released me from her grip, she continued chatting with Tex and me, although truthfully talking with her was still a little awkward. Even though I’ve let go of my little crush on Tex, I can’t help but feel intimidated by how easily she can talk to everyone like she’s known them her whole life. She’s loud and bubbly and just too much at times, but her confidence is so cool, and it's easy to see why everyone likes her so much.

“I’m going to get changed for my set, but I’ll see you guys later.” I look away as Bee kisses Tex and then flies into one of her rooms upstairs. Tex shakes his head and looks at me.

“You still doing okay? She may be a lot, but she really does want you and everyone else here to have a fun time.” I take another drink from my cup.

“I’m okay. I’m just not a big people person. You two don’t need to babysit me you know.” His smile falters a bit as he knows he got caught. 

“That’s not-”

“It’s okay. You should go hang out with some of your friends. I can handle myself just fine.” He glances over at some of the other hellhounds talking and laughing on the other side of the room. 

“Okay, but just let me know if you need anything. You should try and talk to some of the other people here too.” I let out a small laugh. 

“We both know that’s not going to happen. Maybe another time,” Or another lifetime. Tex starts to protest, but I direct him over to their direction.

“Go. You probably only have a few minutes to talk to them before her set starts.”

“Fine, Fine,” he holds his hands up and walks away from me. I lean back against the nearby wall. I’m grateful that they want to help me, but seriously I’m not some brat who needs their hand held. I can handle any shit this party has to throw at me. From my spot, I watch the crowd get closer to where Bee is going to fly out from. As much as I hate to admit it, I wonder what this crazy bitch has planned.

I don’t have to wait long until the music starts up. A spotlight shines on her as she is standing on top of the giant disco ball in the room. Two of her hands are gripping the pole it hangs from as she leans away from it. As the beat picks up she starts singing and starts to strut around the pole. 

“Oh baby, baby, have you seen Amy tonight? Is she in the bathroom, is she smoking up outside?"

Her voice croons as she leans her back against the pole and arches it. From this angle, I can see her outfit better. She is wearing a neon pink top that can “loosely” be called a bra with the amount of her chest and stomach showing, and a pair of black denim shorts that ride low on her hips. The combination shows off much of her glowing, multicolored stomach. She flies off of the disco ball and into the crowd as her fans start running to get a closer look at her. What a bunch of losers. I can’t even imagine being that obsessed with anyone like that. Even still, I watch her move above the crowd as she leans down to give her partygoers drinks and who knows what else. As she glides above the sea of people, her upper arms stretch above her head while her other hands caress her stomach up to her chest. I can’t help but stare at the display as she gets closer to me. 

Bee spots me and immediately floats over to me as I lean further against the wall. She doesn't hesitate to get into my space and cups my jaw to look up at her. As she sings she gets close to my face. Close enough we are breathing the same air.

“Tell me have you seen her? ‘Cause I’m so oh, I can’t get her off of my brain.” She moves her fingers from my jaw to the soft fur behind my ear. Her claws gently scratch a particularly sensitive spot as I hold back a whimper. Her half-lidded eyes held my gaze. She pulls me in so her mouth is right by my ear.

“I just wanna go to the party she gon’ go…” My eyes close tightly and she backs away from me, but not before grabbing my cup and magically filling it back up with a whole new mystery drink. She winks at me and continues to another group as she goes back into a chorus.

“Love me, hate me, say what you want about me. But all of the boys and all the girls are begging to F-U-C-K me.” I grip my drink even tighter now as my heart beats fast in my chest. I take a sip to try and calm my nerves. Whatever she put in it is much stronger than what Tex gave me before, and much sweeter. I drink some more while I gather my thoughts. What the hell was that about? I guess she is kinda flirty with everyone, but that was a whole ‘nother level. 

Before I know it, I’ve drank most of what she gave me and I feel dizzy and slightly sick. Maybe I should go find Tex. I need to sit down. I crane my head above the crowd in search of Tex, but I can’t see him with all of the dancing partygoers. I support myself against the wall as I stumble my way to a quieter spot. As I make another step forward, I trip over someone crashed on the floor, and fall onto my hands and knees. I try to push myself up but the room is spinning. As I debate if I should just lay down and wait for Tex to come find me, a hellhound I’ve never seen before stands over me.

“Need some help, baby?” He extends a hand to me and I begrudgingly accept the help. After steadying myself, I try to let go of his hand, but he holds onto my arm.

“Thanks. I think I just had a little too much to drink. You can let me go. I’m just waiting on a friend.” He smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes that stay firm on me. 

“I’m sure they won’t mind if I watch you. There’s another room over here that we can go to for a little bit. You don’t look so good. You should lay down.” His grip stays tight on my arm as I try to pull away.

“Look asshole! I’m good right where I am. My friend is looking for me right now.” The hellhound yanks me into his chest and grabs my face with his other hand.

“That’s no way to talk to someone that helped you. A good little bitch would return the favor. So shut the fuck up if you know what’s good for you.” As he tries to pull me further away from the crowd of people, I fight my growing dizziness and nausea and claw and snarl against him. After struggling for several seconds, I realize that the music has stopped, and instead of howls and applause, I hear hushed whispers. He quickly stops soon after and stares in the direction of the dance floor. I follow his gaze and see Beelzebub coming towards us. With each step she takes her form grows and becomes more beast-like. Her eyes glow red and her features grow sharper and more fierce. 

“Hey, douche-canoe! You think you can creep on my guests in my own fucking house! Who the hell do you think you are?!” She is yelling as the distance between us shrinks. It doesn’t take her long to reach us as he drops me onto the ground and flashes her a fake smile. 

“Look, she was playing hard to get. We were just messing around!” Beelzebub growls and pushes him to the ground. 

“Don’t fuck with me, you piece of shit. Get the fuck out of my house before I rip your dick off and shove it up your ass! And if I ever see you again, you are dead.” 

“I’m sorry, I’ll go!” He cries out as he pathetically crawls along the floor and out the front door. Beelzebub growls in his direction and watches him go before turning back to me. Her expression softens and her body starts to deflate and shrink back to her normal form. 

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you? ‘Cause I will figure out who that guy is and kill him if you want me to.” She sits on the ground with me and holds my face in her hands. I stare up in awe at her. 

“Hey, Loon', talk to me! Did he do something to you?!” Between the booze I’ve had and the stress of the last few minutes, I know I am going to throw up any moment now.

“I think I’m going to be sick. Where’s your bathroom?” I whisper pathetically. She sighs in relief and gently holds me up. 

“Come with me hon’. I’ve got you.” Somehow Bee’s thin arms are able to pick me up as she carries me to the nearest bathroom and sets me down inside. As the waves of nausea start to pass over me, she stays by my side and strokes my back up and down. The whole time she doesn’t say much, but her touch stays gentle and constant. Just to let me know I’m not alone. Tex knocks on the door shortly after Bee brought me up, but he waits outside to give us some privacy. 

Once I’m done throwing up, Bee hands me a glass of water. I swish some of the water in my mouth and spit it into the toilet.

“I’m sorry that I ruined another party.” I joke weakly.

“You didn’t ruin jackshit. That dick back there though can suck it. I am sorry he did that. I swear I don’t know who that was. Sometimes randos come to my parties, but no one has ever tried to do that before. Seriously, the balls on that guy. I promise that won't ever happen again!” She leans against me and holds me. Her fur is soft against mine and her tail wraps around me. Her tail is warm and comforting. I let my head rest against her shoulder and shut my eyes. She smells like honey and vanilla. It should be too sweet, but somehow it fits her. She nuzzles her head against mine.

"We'll sit here a minute baby, it's okay." Her hands continue to stroke my back. For just a little while, I let myself enjoy her warmth and forget about all the embarrassment as I slowly sober up.

[lunaetiicsaystuff]

DAYLIGHT

part 1 , part 2

lando norris x fem!oc

( yes, its gonna be a series and yes, i guess this is my comeback on tumblr)

summary: Adaezela Samu and Lando Norris have called each other their best friends for as long as they can both remember, until one of them decides to deal with the raising tension between them.

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55 , mclaren , georgerussell63 , and 735,372 others...

crazy girl broke in and stole food from f1 driver Lando Norris, please send help

adaezelasamu at least shes not martha level of crazy, you should be grateful

⤷landonorris im very much happy with this crazy girl

alex_albon weird, it also happened to me but the crazy girl was different 🤔

⤷landonorris then it must be a common thing, better lock the doors guys

⤷lilymhe ahahaha you are so funny

⤷adaezelasamu come here wifey, I'll defend us both 👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻

⤷lilymhe my hero 💗💖💘💓💕💖💓

lilymhe wow send her my address i want her to break in my house too

⤷adaezelasamu OMW

⤷landonorris lily stop stealing MY best friend 😐😐

user1 its the way alex was talking about lily, his gf, and lando just went "it happens to all of us ig 🙂" as if adaezela was his gf lmaoo

user2 SHE LOOKS SO GOOD HOW

user3 she has such pretty smile omg 🥹

carlossainz55 what did you cook ada

⤷adaezelasamu some appetizers and then a pasta cacio and pepe, of course everything was great as usual

⤷carlossainz55 you will have to prepare us something one day

⤷landonorris nope she only cooks for me and herself actually 😁😁

⤷adaezelasamu not true, stop lying 😁😁😁

⤷landonorris you just broke my heart 😁😁😁😁

⤷adaezelasamu i dont care 😁😁😁😁😁

⤷carlossainz55 you two are so dumb i swear

georgerussell63 carmen says hi!

⤷adaezelasamu tell her i say that I miss her!!!! 💞💞💞💞💞💞

⤷landonorris why are you all so affectionate with my ady 😕😕

⤷georgerussell63 jealous much?

⤷landonorris yes she was my best friend first

⤷adaezelasamu lando, there is plenty of me to share between carmen, lily and you

⤷landonorris no comment

user4 shes very pretty, how long have then been together?

⤷user5 never, they are TECHNICALLY childhood best friends but everyone can see they basically in love with each others

⤷user4 oh

user6 the way lando is jealous of how much attention the others are giving to her lmfao 😭😭

⤷user7 its the way he's always saying MY best friend, MY ady , man is whipped

user8 lando could you please win the next grand prix? thank you 🧡🧡🧡🧡

user9 i missed seeing adaezela

more...

adaezelasamu

liked by landonorris , lnfour, charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 219,678 others...

somebody tell this man to let me go home PLEASE

landonorris NOOOO

landonorris LET ME BOTHER YOU FOREVERRRR

user1 oh to be adaezela, complaining about lando norris wanting to be with you 24/7

⤷user2 FR like pass him to me if you dont want him 😭😭

user3 mama y papa

landonorris she doesn't want to leave anymore 🤪🤪

⤷adaezelasamu you literally gaslighted me because you were sCaReD or wtv

⤷landonorris YOU DONT KNOW WHAT SHE COULD DO

⤷adaezelasamu POLICE OFFICERS ARE LITERALLY OUTSIDE OF MY HOUSE TO PREVENT HER FROM DOING WEIRD SHIT??

⤷landonorris yeah but what if 😕

⤷adaezelasamu there you go, making me feel bad again

⤷landonorris 😕😕😕😕😕😕😕

⤷adaezelasamu FINE ill sleep here

⤷user4 honestly what the fuck is fuck is happening?? like police officers outside of Adaezela'a house? lando being scared for her??

lilymhe babe call me plsss🙂

⤷adaezelasamu yes ma'am 🫡

user5 what kind of life are these two living like wtf 😭😭

carlossainz55 what is happening

⤷landonorris ill call you carlos dw

⤷user6 so not even lily or carlos knows what's going on??

charles_leclerc how is he even sleeping there

⤷landonorris talent

⤷adaezelasamu hes just weird charles dont ask questions

⤷user7 PLSSSS ADAEZELA 😭😭

user8 couple goals honestly

⤷user9 exactly, i want what these bitches have 😭

user10 what is happening??? I hope both of them are ok cause wtf

⤷adaezelasamu guys dont worry, both me and lando are fine! we just had an encounter with a crazy fan

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Complicated

Steve's version ❤️ Part Two 💕

Warnings: Heart to hearts, fwb, angst. Fluff.

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.

❤️

Eddie had apologised since your fight, he had came over the next night, pretty wildflowers in his hands that he holds out to you.

"I'm sorry, I was a dick, Chrissy and I have been fighting... Shit thats no excuse. I was a dick. Full stop and I'm sorry"

He bites his lip and takes your hand. He looks so sorrowful that you melt.

"It's just you've never been interested in any guy and then bam there's Steve. I just got scared that maybe you'd forget all about me"

You squeeze his hand and shake your head.

"Eddie, that would never happen" he exhales looking more relieved.

"I'm still so fucking sorry sweetheart, I never should have acted like that, said that shit" he looks at you all puppy eyed and full of remorse.

You hadn't quite fully forgiven him but it was a start.

However, your thoughts had been overtaken by something else for now.

Steve.

It was like the two of you were magnets, Steve drove you to his after his work shift ended.

Robin suggested the three of you have your own movie night but she crashed somewhere during Back to the Future.

Which left you and Steve and the tension between you. To distract yourself for a minute, you looked around, heart beginning to twinge.

This house was beautiful yes, however it felt more like a show home than anything else. Steve must get lonely with his parents away all the time.

"It's beautiful but so big, I hate to think of you here and feeling alone" he softens and his fingers entwine with yours, there comes that tingle again.

The spark.

"Kinda glad my dad isn't here if I'm being honest, he's an asshole. I miss my mom sometimes. How close we used to be... Hey, wanna take this upstairs so we don't wake u up Sleeping Beauty"

Upstairs? In his bedroom? Your heart skips a beat and you nod.

"Yeah, I'd like that" he leads you upstairs and into his room, in here feels impersonal too. Not like a twenty year old lives in it and that hurts your heart even more.

"You know whenever you feel lonely, give me a call and we can just talk" You offer and he smiles as you both sit on the bed.

"I'd like that but it would be a bit of a dilemma honey because I can't stop thinking about kissing you. It's distracting" Oh.

"Well, I guess you're gonna have to kiss me Steve Harrington. I'd hate to think of you being distracted" you tease him and he chuckles and leans forward, lips meeting yours.

It doesn't take long for you to begin heatedly making out, clothes thrown hastily on the floor as you fuck relentlessly, well into the night.

💕

Ever since then the two of you have barely been apart, hot sex into the early hours until your both spent and sated. It's a distraction from all the shit going on in both of your lives.

It's easy to talk to Steve, easy to open yourself up to him, Steve takes a little more time. You don't blame him for being hesitant, he's used to caring for others so much that you don't think he ever really sits down and takes care of his own mental health.

When he does open up though it's amazing, he tells you things he's never told anyone, late night conversations that turn deeper and heartfelt.

He tells you about his parents, opens up mre about Nancy. It's nice to get to know Steve on a level that not very many people do. Except for Robin.

"With Nance there was always the feeling that she was holding back, I changed so much because of her and I'll always be grateful for that but a lot of what happened between us, it makes it hard to put myself out there"

You listen intently, head rested on his chest, he quietens for a second then speaks again.

"I spent so much time going on all of these dates, relationships based on just sex and that didn't make me happy, even if it was fun for a little while"

It hits you again how much more experienced Steve is than you. You've been hiding the fact that he's your first, he's opened up so much that you decide to do the same.

"Steve, there's something I have to tell you" he looks down at you curious and strokes your hair gently.

"What?" you take a breath and blurt it out feeling nervous for his reaction.

"You're my first, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I guess I was nervous how you'd react" his eyes widen and he softens, his hand entwining with yours.

"You never have to be nervous about anything with me sweetheart, thank you for telling me" he kisses you and those pesky butterflies fill your belly again.

💕

Steve never thought that he would be jealous of Eddie Munson, yet here he was.

Yesterday you were sitting beside Eddie, smiling at something he said and Steve felt the stirrings of intense jealousy in his veins.

Eddie was a lucky bastard and he didn't even know it. He was the object of your affection and at first Steve wasn't too fussed about that.

Now? Well, now was a different story. It was subtle at first, he just assumed that the annoyance he felt around Eddie was to do with him being a dick to you all those weeks ago.

Then came the little bursts of jealousy, stuff he could wave off and pretend that it didn't happen.

Now though? Well now there was no ignoring how he felt. Anytime he thought about your feelings for Eddie it was like a vice squeezing his chest tight.

Did you still want to be with Eddie? He was nervous as shit to ask you. Even though the two of you were growing closer and closer, the thought of asking you, of knowing the answer terrified him.

Because what if you did? He swallows, he doesn't like to think about that. He promised himself after Nancy with Jonathan that he wouldn't put himself in this sort of position again.

Yet he had.

Speaking of Nancy, he hadn't thought of her in a long time, his thoughts taken over by you. He thought about you constantly, lost himself in daydreams about you at work.

Much to Robin's amusement.

"Earth to Steve" Robin calls to him and he comes to, lost in thought about you and him last night.

"Sorry, just uh got lost in my head" he apologises and begins to stack the shelf.

"Wonder who the girl is that you're dreaming about huh?" she teases and he blushes ignoring her knowing gaze.

The door opens signalling a customer and Robin nudges him.

"Speak of the devil" she nods to you. You're with Dustin and Eddie. He feels himself light up at the sight of you and when you turn around and give him a big smile and a wink, he's putty in your hands.

Shit, he was screwed wasn't he?

💕

[metallicaislife]

Coconut Tequila

A/N: This idea came to me... I'll let you guess what I was doing haha but I left myself a note with this idea. Hope y'all enjoy it!

Genre: Comedy Fluff

Word Count: 1,486

Warnings: Alcohol and smoking

I groaned, peeling my eyes open as my head throbbed. I slowly sat up rubbing my eyes. I looked around and it dawned on me I was not in my room. There wasn’t anyone next to me, and absolutely no clues to indicate where I was. I checked under the blanket, I was still completely dressed. I was about to get up and investigate despite the hammering in my head.

“Morning Sunshine.” Duff said as he leaned against the doorframe. 

“Hey Duff…” I replied, “where am I?” I asked. 

“My room, don’t worry I slept on the couch. You don’t remember much from last night do you?” He asked, pushing off and motioned to the water and presumably tylenol on the bedside table. 

“No, I don’t… Thank you.” I said, popping the pills in my mouth and swallowing them down with water.  

“Maybe you should invest in a shot glass.” He joked with a small laugh as if it was some inside joke and sat on the edge of his bed. I wracked my brain but nothing was coming up. 

“Well this was fun, I should go.” I said and got up, still extremely discombobulated.

“Your shoes are over there.” He pointed to a corner in his room. 

“Thanks.” I replied and grabbed them. I waved awkwardly and left. 

I managed to make it out of the house without running into anyone. I was grateful. Saul or Steven would’ve given me so much shit and my head hurt too much for either of their antics.

I walked home and went about my day. I was cleaning up my kitchen and saw a bottle of 1800 Coconut Tequila. Slowly, the memories from last night came to me. 

Saul called me earlier in the day to let me know he and his band were having a party at their place. I grew up with Saul, and Steven after he moved to the area. I knew the other members of their band, Guns ‘N Roses, but wasn’t as close to them yet. On my way home from work I picked up a bottle of Coconut Tequila to take. 

I entered the house and made my way through the sea of people. 

“Y/N!” I turned to see Steven. 

“Hey!” I greeted. He gave me a hug and I handed him the bottle of Tequila. 

“Damn, you got the good stuff. I'll put this in the kitchen. Go mingle and have a good time!” He said and left. I did as he said 

A while later I was in the kitchen, I’d already had a couple cocktails and decided now was the time for shots. Instead of finding a shot glass I began pouring the tequila into my solo cup. 

“You’re dangerous, you're free pouring.” Duff said as he entered the kitchen. I looked up with a grin on my face. 

“It’s more fun this way.” I replied and downed the shot. 

“There is a shot glass around here somewhere, want me to find you one?” He asked as he leaned against the counter. 

“No thanks, this is fine.” I started to pour another, I accidentally poured a little too much, “whoops! That’s like two in one.” I giggled and drank the tequila. “Wooo!” I rubbed my chest as the fire of the tequila made its way down. Duff shook his head with a small laugh. 

“Do you free pour it at home too?” He asked. 

“Yup, not a single shot glass in any of my cupboards.” I looked up grinning at him. 

With the conversation over I left for the main part of the party. I found Saul and began dancing with him. In between dances I would go back to the kitchen and pour some more tequila. 

Eventually I found myself outside leaning against the house smoking a cigarette. Drunk ciggies are the best; they feel so much more smooth. 

“Are you doing okay?” 

I squinted, eventually the person came into focus, it was Duff. 

“Yeah I’m doing great.” I slurred a little bit. 

“You look like you’ve been having fun.” He said as he lit a cigarette. 

“Most definitely, I wouldn't miss one of these parties for the world.” I grinned. I put out the cigarette in the ashtray and pushed off the house. That’s when my world started to go topsy-turvy. 

“Hey, hey. Hey.” He immediately grabbed my arm, stabilizing me. “Okay, you are definitely not good.” He put his cigarette out and helped me in the back door. He looked at the counter. “Y/N, did you finish the tequila?” He asked. 

“Whoops!” I giggled, leaning heavily on him. “You smell really good by the way.” I said, his cologne wafted off of him, the scent mixed with cigarettes.

“Good lord.” He mumbled. He bent down to put my arm around his shoulder and helped me through the house into a room.

My eyes were growing heavy as he helped lay me down. He took my shoes off. Then he turned me onto my side, and I groaned. “Gotta make sure you stay safe.” He said and tucked me in. 

“Mmm thank you…” I mumbled and quickly fell asleep. 

I slapped my forehead growing so embarrassed. I can’t believe I made a total fool of myself in front of Duff. Maybe he was right, I’ll have to get a shot glass, no more free pouring from here on out. Free pouring is always a better idea in the moment, but I usually regret it the next day when I’m extremely hungover. 

I continued going about my day before heading to the store. I picked out two shot glasses and made my way to the Hell House. 

I knocked on the door, Saul opened the door and smiled at me. 

“Hey, did you forget something here?” He asked. 

“My dignity.” I answered and he laughed, “Is Duff home?” I asked. 

“Yeah, he’s in his room.” He answered. His eyebrow furrowed, he looked like he wanted to ask a question, but instead he just moved aside so I could enter. 

“Thanks.” I said over my shoulder and made my way to Duff’s room. I stood in the doorway, he was sitting on his bed reading a book. I knocked on the open door. He looked up and a smile broke out on his face. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, placed his book on the bedside table and patted the spot beside him. 

“Hey, Y/N. To what do I owe this pleasure?” He finally greeted me. 

“Hey, Duff. I come bearing a gift,” I replied and sat beside him. 

“Please tell me there isn’t anymore coconut tequila in that bag.” He said with fake exasperation. I laughed softly. 

“No, no. I won’t touch that stuff again… at least until next weekend.” I joked, he laughed, bumping me with his shoulder. 

“Okay, what’s in the bag then?” He asked curiously. 

“First I have to say, thank you, for taking care of me so kindly. Second, sorry to have been a nuisance in the first place and taken your bed-“ I started, he waved his hand. 

“It was no problem at all, I just wanted to make sure you were okay and didn’t have to sleep on the floor somewhere.” He said resting his arms on his knees with his fingers interlocked between his legs. 

“Which brings me to three,” I pulled the shot glasses out of the bag and handed him one. He laughed loudly. “A gift to thank you for your help.” I finished.

“Matching shot glasses?” He asked, holding his next to mine. 

“Yup, this way, I won't pour freely at home anymore and if I’m here you can politely encourage me to use yours.” I said. He grinned at me. 

“Sounds like a good idea. Thank you, I’ll treasure this.” He said looking back at the glass in his hand. 

“Good, it’s a commemorative shot glass to honor the night we became best friends.” I said and bumped his shoulder with mine. 

“Best friends, yeah?” He asked, looking over at me. 

“Duh, you don’t go through something like that without getting closer. I’m just grateful I didn’t throw up.” I said putting my shot glass back in the bag. 

“Actually…” he trailed off.

“No.” I said, horror washed over me as I whipped my head to look at him. He chuckled. 

“Yeah, you must not remember but outside as you started getting dizzy you barfed a little on my shoes.” He replied.

“Aw man, I'm so sorry.” I said putting my face in my hands. 

“Eh, I got a shot glass and a best friend out of it so we’re even.” He said, I peeked through my fingers and he grinned at me. I couldn’t help but smile back at him. 

I wasn’t grateful for my hangover, but I was grateful that Coconut Tequila helped Duff and I grow closer.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

[gayspock]

actually

sorry i'll say itnow. realness i do get insanely depressed the more its said. like yep adults now. everyones over it . everyones grown and now the only thing there is left in life is places where we can only ever connect once every few months cuz we have lives . this will be everyone from here going forwards. and i cant even say shit cuz its not that i really even have that. right. like idont even know anyone like that. and this is pathetic as shit. butjust that sinking feeling of knowing its too late, youve completely missed out. turning to youryounger self like ok so you know how hard it is to deal with everything. so dude lookits not going to get better . every year it gets worse you slip farther away. it getsharder to ever crawl because. cuz this is the only opportuntiy you'll ever get to consistently talk to people and its forever shrinking. and youre less likeable less of everything every year and more and more and mroe and its jsut going and going. i know i wouldnt likeme i wouldnt want to talk to me i wouldnt spend my few seconds of free time trying to get to knowme and i know that i know that deep down like.

because even beforehtat eveb when it should have been eaiserand even now when giventhat you cant make it work and you'll constantly blow it and everyones going to settle around you, and specifically most definitely without you, so shriknk up and die and because why do youever kid yourself about anything andyou'll go from the guy people remember every few months, becuase that was already yoiur FUCKING STATE OF BEING, to the person who doesnt exist at all because all your fearsof living in the periphery of everyone and constantly being left outand never jsut. mattering . SORRY . were never anything but completely rational. ALWAYS cdompletely rational. and always founded to be true . why didnt you try harder why didnt you dobetter when thatsall you can ever try to do and it never means anything. soemtiems i get crayz ufcking insane houses walking around the fucking house scrathcing at walls not seeing niot talking to anyone in months years however long its been criyng myself to sleep blah blah blah yap yap yap ne ficlomg grateful someone with a life has rememebred you exist this week because it wont happen again until next year. FUCK you. like i wishi was some fucking sincerely digusting fucking crerature sometimes but the reality of justbeing nothing like just being nothing that anyone can really like inthe end because youre substanceless and forgettable and fartoo easy to let slip away and jsut meek fucking loser that just lets it happen because whatsthe fucking point. i cant do anything to force peopleto like me just let me go fucking die in my hole alone i dont care any more and i dont want to care and i hate fucking everyone and why didnt you try harde rwhy do i have to try so hard to force myself . why does ittake so much to try and feel like im tapped into anything why is it that its jsut so easy LIKE

its not even maliciuous it used to be it could be but even when it wasnt it wasnt malciious ti was just alwwayswas jsut that like. we move on without you we do everything without you we forget you we wont invite you youre no in the conversation i cant kEEP UP WITH THE CONVERSATION EVER I DONT UNDERSTAND ANYHTING i feel like evryones just always laughing at mee AND im crazy bitch im fucking crazy i dont know why i cant make it i dontknow why i can never make it its not meant to be a fucking . oh youre falling behind oh its a race oh its a compettiion theres never any other way to conceptualise it other than jsut THAT. i ithnik when i trytoo hard then yep i am ugly and whatever butwhat is there there is that orthere is jsut . I DONT EXIST i dont understand anyone or anyhting i cant even try to i dont feel a part of anyhting i feel so fucking isolated all the tiem i feel so fucking alone im so fuckngtired this is it thsi makes it worse all of that stuff makes it worse but i dont have the fucking energy the wherewithall to fight it off over and over and voer again when itslike what else is there what is there to live for whenit just never means anyhting it just never matters lik oh my godthis si the reason why youre alone becauseyou make into eveyrhting like this whenit jsut . was never justthat im tired im ssad i think theres soemthing wronggg with me except its nothing wrong with me imjust using that as a fuckingthing to grip onto like yep yep something WRONG WITH ME just RELAX AND IT WOULD BE FINE! OF COURSEIT WOULD BE! LIKE IT EVER WAS LIKE IT EVER WILL BE LIKE THAT WASNT WHAT YOU DO IN THE FIRSTPLACE LIKE ITS NOT EVERYTHING THAT KEEPS FUCKING TANKING LIKE . what do you do what do you i feelfucking crazy im drained i cant sleep IM ALWAYS SLEEPING i go to work i fucking spiral im bad at it i get out of work i sit in the dark for hours bcause i cant . manage anyhting im so tired im so sad its my fault for nto trying to talk to people, i could try i could spend the few seconds of energy i have . the little time i go out i cant talk to anyone its so hard the people who do see me fuckng scream slurs at me i want to die i want to not exist i noly exist in somefucking . i dont get it everyone else has something hwhy sis it so difficult why is it so hard what is wrong with me GCONSTANT FUCKING BACK AND FORTTHHH THERES NOTHING WRONG WITH MEEE IM SEARCHING FOR SOME ANSWER WHEN IM JSUT NTOHING BUT ALSO OH GODTHREREHS TO BE. WHY AM I NOTHING WHY AM I ALWAYS NOTHINGGGGGGGGGGG IM SO UGLY IM SO BAD AT EVERYTHING IM SO ANNOYING AND YOURENOT MEANT TO SAY THAT BUT ITS NEVER ANYHTING BUT TRUEEEEEEEEEEEEEE AND WHY CANT I SAY THAT WHEN THATS WHAT I AM THATS WHO I AM THATS ALL I'LL EVER BE AND THATS. WHY. IM ALWAYS GOING TO BE ALONEEE SNAKE EAT IT OWN TALIKL

[drwernicke]

I started writing about Miles' feelings in this one-sided camerashipping AU where he's living with the Parks, but then I decided to explore Waylon's side of things as well, and it turned into something like a fic. So uh. I'll just put it down here?

_______________________________________ Miles feels like… what the fuck even is he anymore? Undead? He's a monster, certainly, and that monstrosity is useful, but he feels like a strange warped, mockery of his former self. There's a power in hosting the Walrider, but it comes at the cost of his humanity and he knows he's frightening to Waylon. He's always told himself he doesn't need anyone else, and bringing down Murkoff is what matters, but now that's what he's been locked into, there are no other options /at all/. It's what he's wanted, isn't it? He does want it. But he's also been through something he can't even begin to process, and being the Walrider's host is deeply violating on even the cellular level. But he's not allowed to process that either, because where does that lead? He can't stop it. He shouldn't even want to stop it. He's always been fine alone, he shouldn't want company now.

But still human or not, trauma is a powerful neurochemical. Waylon is the only other man who's been through the same hell, and he's also risked everything he has to bring down Murkoff. They're aligned in their goals and were both willing to risk everything. And Waylon's still human, he has a family who loves him. Miles isn't jealous, but it also drives home how definitively, unchangeably isolated he is now. He's never really been able to connect even with any of the men he'd dated in the past, simply because they weren't ever 100% politically aligned with him, or he found something about them offputting, they were too superficial, etc. Maybe he was making excuses because life was easier alone, and nobody would care about the world like he does. About the things he fucking gives a shit about, like children in third world countries not dying of dehydration. Too bad fucking Brad wanted to talk forever about the shitty coffee at 7/11 instead.

Miles knows he should be grateful for what he's become. But there's so much he misses, now that he can't have it ever -- and he supposes that at least shows he still has a human mind in some way, weak and stupid and flawed. If he's never wanted it, why does he mourn it now? Why does it feel like every time Waylon is kind to him, that his sanity is teetering on the edge of some awful precipice overlooking some awful abyss, at the bottom of which rests a beast known as resentment and violence?

Maybe he's taking everything he can't have, can no longer have, and projecting it on Waylon as a symbol for it all. But there had been a few moments in hell itself, perhaps in the administration block, when he'd wondered what their lives would be like if they survived this nightmare together. There's things you can't go through without it changing you fundamentally from the ground up, and then whether you want it or not, you're entangled with whoever else went through the meat grinder with you, like quantum states. Waylon has more commitment to setting right what he can of the world than any man Miles had ever been with. But Waylon Park is fucking alive, and Miles Upshur is a rotting corpse of a man held upright by a murderous nanohazard.

And the fucking punchline to the whole shitshow: Waylon Park has a wife, and two kids, and there was something comical in that the first crack in Miles' sense of self would be to latch onto a married man. He can tell Waylon's kindness is strained. And why the fuck wouldn't it be? He has a dead man living in his house, and that dead man is a weapon. You show kindness to the weapon, because you don't know if it'll kill you, or worse, make you feel guilty for indirectly killing what it was in the first place.

Most nights, Miles drinks enough coffee it would give him a heart attack if he still had a working heart, because he doesn't trust himself with REM sleep. _______________________________________

Not everyone goes through hell and brings the devil home.

It's not a kind thought, and Waylon hates it, but there's always a kernel of truth at the core of the operating system. Or something like that. Miles Upshur is great company, and most days, Waylon doesn't even think about the fact he's living with the Parks for their own protection. That feels reductive; Miles is far more than that. If it weren't for Miles, Waylon would have never returned to Lisa's arms, bloodied and broken, but whole. But this isn't just about what Miles has done for him, or what he can do for them. If it weren't for Waylon, Miles would have never ended up in Mount Massive. If it weren't for Waylon, Miles would still have his fingers. He does complain about it so often, always in the tones of gallows humor, but Waylon knows there's a deep hurt behind it.

If it weren't for Waylon, Miles would have never become the host.

But this isn't about gratitude or guilt. Miles is genuinely great to have around; he cooks breakfast sometimes. He walks around singing along badly to Madonna, the B-52's. He gets along great with the kids. He's shit at Mario Kart, but so is Waylon. When he, Waylon, and Lisa work together, compile notes and liaise and network with other anti-Murkoff operatives, Miles is efficient and determined on a level that inspires Waylon. He cracks jokes, he rips people to shreds, and it makes Waylon and Lisa laugh. He makes Waylon type up the reports because it takes him forever, and Waylon does so, guilt heavy in his heart.

But this isn't all about guilt.

Miles encourages him through his rehabilitation, as Waylon slowly gains sensation and stability in his leg. Miles likes shitty beer, and Waylon's learned not to complain too much about it. Sometimes--many sometimes--Miles screams in his sleep. The boys have learned to expect it. There's nothing conventional about their childhood, not anymore.

Waylon has learned not to look at Miles through the night vision of a camera.

When Simon Peacock emails them warnings of potential intruders, Miles stays watch like a guard hound, sipping another one of his shitty Pabst Blue Ribbons. On one of those nights, there are terrible screams, but they're not from Miles.

In his dreams, Waylon hears Lisa screaming, his boys, and finally, himself.

They are mutinous dreams. But more mutinous is the waking thought that Miles sometimes lingers in his presence. He always looks away when Waylon looks, and it makes Waylon wonders if he's accidentally fostering something far worse than a monster. But Waylon knows he has his own trauma to work though; he sees attraction where there is none, and wouldn't it make sense to fear something that already elicits fear in most?

Someone. Not something.

There was the time his eldest had cut his hand playing, and Waylon had been so afraid of what in the air could seep into his blood.

He worries himself sick about Lisa. All those phantom pregnancies.

In the early morning, Miles is painstakingly typing away on his laptop, seated at the breakfast table. The sun's rising, warm golden light streaming in through the windows, and Waylon has no doubt Miles has been up all night; the scent of coffee hangs heavy in the air. Waylon wonders if Miles needs, or even wants, to sleep anymore.

Waylon doesn't know what Miles is, aside from on a purely codified level. He doesn't know what Miles wants, aside from on a purely ideological level.

He pours himself a cup of coffee, and wonders what he's breathing in.

[artist-of-dawn]

So High School

Chapter 7: "heartbeat"

Next: "Suga-san's masterplan"

Masterlist

🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊

The last few weeks have been extremely confusing. First Shoyo comes back and everything feels right again, his smile and laugh and genuine care for me warm my heart, but it seems that there is a line we both subconsiously don't cross. He's here flirting and having fun but it feels too light, it makes me feel unsure about how he truly feels about me and now I'm standing like an idiot near the door just to hear him ringing the door bell. He's supposed to arrive in 15 minutes.

"Don't forget how to breathe yn." Shimizu Kyioko was standing in the doorway to the living room with a small smile, she has always been the stability I never knew I needed.

"I'm scared Shimizu."

"I know. It's okay, It's normal."

"But how do I know if he's genuine? That he doesn't just do this with everyone and I’m just delusional?"

"I cannot tell you what to think of him or his actions, but have you seen him being this way with anyone else?" I hesitantly shake my head. "He adores you. Not more than me though. And you are not delusional at all, at the reunion when he came back he had this lovesick look on his face and talked about you for the rest of the night before koushi got shitfaced and passed out." She held out her hand and helped me up from the floor I was supposedly moping on.

"Yeah you're right. I should worry less." I shake my head and do my best to smile."Love you shimizu" Damn, I am so lucky to be able to call these people my friends. Once in a while these moments really make me so grateful that I have them in my life.

The sweet moment was cut short by the doorbell. Shit. The calm was long gone.

Shimizu took that as her queue to leave the room, winking at me before going upstairs.

I open the door hesitantly before he hugs me. Damn this man. I cannot even feel my heartbeat anymore. He's strong and comforting and all of the things I sometimes admit to long for.

"Hey Sho, ready to enter the life of a model?" He laughed a little.

🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊

🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊

"You're alright?" Shoyo says suddenly and I slam my phone face down onto the grass.

"Yeah it's just Kei being salty as usual."

"Ah, yeah I remeber you said that you guys kept in contact after graduation." I still remember how I dragged him to the celebratory dinner. I had to paint dino bones and name them for him to learn quicker, some sort of artsy flashcards.

"He needs someone to keep him in check while tadashi is away traveling." He hums in understanding. "Wanna listen to some music?"

He just nods and looks away with a distant, nearly dreamy gleam in his eyes. I wonder what he's thinking about. I shrug and open my phone scrolling and stopped and played a random song.

And so played mirrorball by Taylor Swift.

I dare to dream only for a moment of saying fuck it and just tell him everything there is to say. How I want nothing more than to spend my life with him and that I tried to forget him but failed terribly. That I'd let him ruin all my paints if he came to my house more often and wear his jersey to every game.

But I don't. Not yet.

Sometimes I'm disappointing myself.

I lean my head on his shoulder as he hums to the song. I'll shine for him meanwhile.

🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊

No fun facts this time :")

"Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? (Kill me)

It's just a game, but really (really)

I'm bettin' on all three for us two (all three)"

Taglist: @nymphsdomain @writing-for-the-hell-of-it

[r0-boat]

Got inspired by reading some fanfics about a reader giving the silent treatment to their f/o and it got me wondering…

How would your ocs Silas, Cole, and Holt react if their s/o got upset with them and gave them the silent treatment?

👀

Hell yeah

OC's: Holt, Cole, and Silas reaction to S/o being upset and giving silent treatment

(hey I have OC's and I write OCX reader if you're interested ;) )

Holt

As soon as you see your tears well up from the argument he just rolls his eyes and goes out for a smoke. The next morning he wakes up usually you're so chatty but this time, you're silent. As quiet as a mouse, even as he grunts a 'morn'n', you don't say anything. Silent treatment? Really??? Whatever, He doesn't care.

Spoiler: he does. He cares a lot, He's grown so used to your constant chatting He gets antsy when he can't hear you. Even if he doesn't respond back he's always listening. He's more irritable. He just wants you to stop that stupid silent treatment, That shit's for babies anyway not like it's working.

When he finally hits the boiling point he just yells He breaks "fine, I'm sorry there?! Can you stop being so quiet now? Freaking me the fuck out. I'll do anything."

You're angry at him and it's not right He doesn't feel right when you're not talking to him like normal. And he's weirdly upset when you're mad at him. What the fuck is happening to him??

Cole

He goes away to cool off storming out the house. When he comes back dinner is being cut but you don't say a word to him. You must be so mad at him, All right he'll give you some space then. However the next day you're still mad at him. It's starting to worry him. His heart is starting to hurt. He misses you so much. You're physically there but you're not there... He must have hurt you pretty bad.

Cole can be soft, under that hard snarky exterior that's a man who loves you. He wraps his arms around you. He sets a freshly picked (very messy) bouquet of wildflowers on the counter "I'm sorry darling. I did not mean to say those words. I did not know how much they hurt."

He knows that sometimes he can be a bit of a blockhead His anger gets in the way, and he says things he does not mean. He needs to work on that, which He is trying to figure out.

When he wants to make it up to you he means that. He's grateful to have you and he doesn't want to lose any more people he loves.

Cw: Yandere character below, unhealthy relationship dynamic ahead, manipulative behavior, obsessive behavior, love bombing

Silas

Oh...oh dear. It must be something about rules that he set that he will not budge. Silas thrives on his lover's attention and he does not do well with silent treatment. He is royalty and he is used to getting whatever he wants.

He will find a way to get your attention back. Without changing his rules. His rules are there to 'protect' you and his rules are firm. Whether it be physical gifts or affection He will crank up his normal love bombing behavior.

The longer you go with that silent treatment the crazier he becomes. Please darling talk to him He can't stand at this quiet!! He needs you in his arms, don't you see?! He needs that attention. He'll try to get your eyes to look at him one way or another. Perhaps he should fake a sparring accident. He might be wounded... But it's worth it if you could hear your pretty voice repeat his name.

[bonny-kookoo]

🧟

+

Jk

"don't leave me"

This shit is angsty as hell sorry

"You should pack too." Jungkook mumbles as he zips up his worn down backpack, having stuffed as much of his stuff in there as he can. He knew you'd never be able to stay in the abandoned apartment forever- but still. Even in times like these, you both had managed to somehow make it into a home.

Memories edged into the furniture and cracks in the walls. Forever there- simply invisible to those who don't know how to look for them in the faint spiderweb and broken dishes in the sink.

You're laying on the bed, on your stomach, bare feet swinging back and forth almost innocently. You've always been like that. His ancor, a small bit of normalcy in this chaos.

Unchanging.

The memories of your biggest scare still hang heavy in his bones. Summer, the house hot and both of you barely dressed at night to somehow get at least some hours of sleep. The zombie having broken in, you pushing him off to protect jungkook- he'll never forget that, will forever stay grateful.

"Hey, stop being lazy and pack." He chuckles, crossing his arms while you smile at him, head on your arms.

"There's nothing for me to pack." You answer, and he shakes his head, instead moving with a sigh to pack some of your clothes into your smaller bag. "Jungkookie.." you hum, and he gives a simply nod back.

"You should also get dressed. It's cold outside.." he drifts off, noticing something off.

It's cold.

It's freezing, in fact. He's wearing a shirt and a sweater on top, long thick sweatpants and boots- and yet you're only in a summer-esque bedroom attire, consisting of a strapped top and your shorts.

"No.." he whispers, face falling as his mind slowly comes to a conclusion. His emotional side however, isn't as fast and easy to accept the situation he's finding himself in. You're right there, on the bed. You're right there- you're fine?

Right?

"Come on- you'll catch a cold-" he stutters towards you, pulling out one of your old sweaters, faded pink that's sadly a little stained.

You move now. Sit up, legs crossed, a somber smile on your face. He doesn't like that look.

"Don't be difficult now, please." He begs. "Just- get dressed, I'll go slow okay? I know you can't walk well with that bi- b.." he drifts off as his throat closes up. "..that bite.." he gets out, before his eyes tear up, mind slowly coming to terms with it.

Because you don't have any marks at all, sitting there on the bed. No bruises, no dirt at all on your skin. No bite. No scratch.

Just like he knew you, before the breakout.

He walks closer, bottom lip trembling as he falls to his knees right in front of the bed, arms barely out of reach of your legs. "Okay.." he says, hums into the sheets. "Lets stay then."

"You have to leave." You tell him though, and he swears he can feel your hand on his head, fingers running through his hair. "You've got to.. move on." You remind him, and he knows. He knows.

He really does.

"Don't leave me.." he sobs down into the mattress below, hands clinging onto the blanket.

"I won't." You say. "I'll stay as long as you'll remember me." You reassure him, and he wants to throw up from the force of his own tears.

He remembers it now. Properly.

You didn't just protect him. His mind shows him the actual memories of that night- the window crashing as you fell through it, as you took the undead man with you- the stains on your pale pink sweater from the way he'd pushed it onto the bite marks on your leg down in the kitchen. You didn't just protect him.

You died for him.

He just didn't want to remember until now, as he puts on his jacket, and takes both his bag and yours with him, the door behind him closing. And as he looks back to the house, one last time, there you are.

Waving from the broken window, with that heartwarming smile of yours. And as long as he remembers that sight of you-

You'll stay.

Forever.

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Moving update

I'm grateful to the folks checking in on me and @crowtoed and thought I'd drop a quick update.

We're almost done putting all non-essentials in storage. The many bins are an investment in case we have to do this again. (I have already started researching shipping containers for an overseas move.) I'm going to buy storage unit insurance this week because I have more valuables stowed away than standard homeowners will cover.

My storage unit is almost the same size as the moving truck, which makes it easy to guage if I have to purge/store anything that won't fit. I'm going to hire the biggest trailer from upack.com when it's time to leave. The prices are amazing - less than $4k to move to Connecticut.

The Florida realtor (a condo expert) is viewing my place tomorrow, and with her advice, we'll start on final repairs/refreshes (this place is 23 years old, about when things like windows and tile get rather iffy). My mother graciously gifted me money to cover the majority of the fixes. This move would be a lot harder without her help.

Mom is also letting us stay short-term in her MiL suite a few towns over, so we can sell my condo asap. That means we don't have to worry about timing the purchase of the new house with closing on the old. Plus, I should have a few paychecks rent-free I can sock away / apply towards mutual aid.

We're hoping the condo sells by June or so. Once that happens, I'll use some of the funds towards old debt to nudge my credit rating ever closer to 800 (it's 778 rn, a multi-year project as I used to be in the 400s). Most of the rest of the money will be earmarked for a generous down payment on the new home.

We're still looking in Connecticut and have a realtor there as well. If it's possible, we can afford to fly up a few times to check out houses. The realtor told us our budget for what we want (1500sq ft or larger) is totally doable. The housing market there is weirdly reasonable.

Work is incredibly kind and has said if I need more than 2 weeks to move, I can take whatever time I need. I am fully remote now and blessed to be part of such a progressive company.

We still have some household and personal things to sell, but it's more out of "I no longer like/need this" than an urgent need for money. But thank you to everyone who has offered cash. It means so much to us to have such a strong safety net. If this happened even 5 years ago, we'd have been up shit creek.

Once we close on the new house, we'll drive up asap to move in. This is when we'll know our route and we'll connect with folks along it who have offered to be pitstops for us and the cats. The moving truck will meet us there in 5-7 business days after we leave Orlando.

My HRT Rx also got renewed for 6 months, and with my current stash + a little rationing, I shouldn't have any interruption with my shots, even if pharmacies start refusing me come July.

We're hoping to be all settled in the new home come October, but are dependant on the housing market. But we're stacking as many chips in our favor as we can.

Again, thank you, thank you to everyone who has reached out. I'll update again when something major changes.

[stormyoceans]

The clock on the wall of the restaurant was still showing the same time, for the third time Mhok had checked. He glanced down at his phone - no, it hadn't broken; Mhok was just impatient. And his phone screen was blank as ever.

He sighed, and returned to mopping the floor. Maybe all of this hard work would get him a raise soon, if his new boss noticed. That would be worth it.

His pocket began buzzing, and Mhok felt a fond smile beginning before he even had the phone out. Sure enough, the screen was lit with his boyfriend’s name.

"Good evening," he said, warm and low into the receiver. "If you'd like to place an order, I'm sorry, but the restaurant is closed."

Something in Mhok seemed to settle and relax, just hearing his boyfriend’s voice on the other end of the line. "I'm sorry, Phi," said Day, explaining about his family and the unexpected change of their plans.

Mhok had guessed that it would be something like this; actually, it could have been worse. He should probably feel grateful Day could call at all. He hummed, and told him not to worry. "I'll just have to be better next year," he murmured, with a self-deprecating smirk, "so Santa will be nicer to me."

Day's voice dipped a little lower. "Let's say that Santa is listening right now," said the younger boy. "What would you ask for?"

Mhok barely hesitated, certain of the only thing he wanted - the thing he'd want even if he had everything else in the world. "I'd want to be with you right now," he almost whispered, with the ghost of a sigh.

"...The moon is beautiful tonight. Wouldn't you say?"

Mhok's heart leapt into his throat, beating with a sudden wild hope. He wished so much... and there was only one way to know.

He moved instantly to the restaurant doors, pushing them open with firm, calloused hands, and knowing exactly the person he wanted to see.

And for a moment, for just one breath of a moment -

He'd breached a different threshold, in a different place, while something like deja vu made the faint glimmer of hope in his stomach into an endless star-filled canopy, millions of constellations strong. And his steps were uncertain, but his heart knew who to look for... the shape of this memory held a different face, and the word on his lips was a different name, but it was the same moment, somehow, the same longing, the same unbearable separation finally ending, this time for sure, two souls coming home, like magnets across a universe -

He blinked, and the moment was entirely his own, once more. Just a passing thought, an odd trick of the light in the courtyard, and it didn't matter anyway.

Because he saw Day, his Day, just as he'd wished.

"Day," Mhok breathed, his heart full. He swallowed past the sudden knot in his throat, blinking away the tears that gathered inexplicably in his eyes.

"Merry Christmas," said Day, smiling at him.

---

(it's me again, hi 👋 after ep 10 i had to send this too hope you enjoy 🤍)

SLACK JAWED SHAKING OUT OF MY SKIN CRYING SHITTING YELLING AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS FOAMING AT THE MOUTH SPINNING COUNTERCLOCKWISE ON THE FLOOR WAILING WEEPING HOWLING SCREECHING EATING GLASS GOING INTO CARDIAC ARREST MAKING A LOBOTOMY APPOINTMENT CRAWLING TOWARDS THE EDGE OF THE HIGH RISE BUILDING IM ABOUT TO THROW MYSELF OFF OF ASCENDING ONTO A HIGHER SPHERE OF HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS

ANON IM ONCE AGAIN SAYING THIS IN THE MOST AFFECTIONATE AND ADORING WAY POSSIBLE BUT YOU ARE - INDEED - INSANE. THIS IS MADNESS. LUNACY. DERANGEMENT. LITERALLY CAN WE HAVE A TALK. CAN WE HAVE A CONVERSATION. A DISCUSSION EVEN. YOU DID NOT JUST MAKE MORK HAVE A VISION OF PUEN OPENING THE DOOR OF THE GLASS HOUSE AND FINALLY FINDING TALAY AFTER HE CAME BACK FROM THE OTHER UNIVERSE. AS IF DAY'S SIDE BACK IN EPISODE 4 DIDN'T ALREADY RUIN ME. CURRENTLY IN A DEAD FAINT IN FRONT OF MY SCREEN EXPERIENCING THE ENTIRE RANGE OF HUMAN EMOTIONS LIKE

"the shape of this memory held a different face, and the word on his lips was a different name, but it was the same moment, somehow, the same longing, the same unbearable separation finally ending, this time for sure, two souls coming home, like magnets across a universe" <<< I CAN'T EVEN. FORMULATE [ISABELLE ADJANI TUNNEL SCENE FROM POSSESSION] [FEMALE HYSTERIA] [SUICIDE]