#please let moulin rouge be so good I can stop being this upset. please let moulin rouge be so good

[godblooded]

someone please pray for me today i got invited to my aunt’s v’s birthday to see moulin rouge and this is the fifth time i’ve been called a girl and or a woman and there are no signs of stopping.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Roguish Women Part 48

Summary: Kate is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and  playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 48: Kate and Tommy’s wedding. During the reception, Alfie asks a serious question. 

            “Tommy and I are getting married tomorrow. I still can’t believe it. Even saying it out loud is like a surprise.” Kate laughed softly to herself. She was in the stables, taking her time grooming Blue. It was spring and his winter coat was shedding off and Kate wanted to see his black coat gleaming in the warm sun again. She spoke softly with the gelding as she combed his made and brushed his coat.

            Although she was happy about finally getting to the altar after such a long time of waiting, nerves were starting to get the better of her. With her past and with Tommy’s, it was hard to tell what the future held. But what Kate wanted was to at least try to guarantee a good life for their children.

            Besides, she decided that maybe she was still clinging to the idea that she didn’t deserve love. Something that she knew Tommy struggled with too.

            “I’m sure everything will go alright. At least Tommy’s already gone through a wedding before.”

            “Oi, heard that.”

            Kate poked her head out of the stall and smiled. Her fiancée was walking down the stable aisle. “I’m just stating facts.” She replied with a smug look. "Out of the two of us, you're the one with wedding experience." 

            Tommy chuckled and pecked her lips. “You might want to duck out while you can, the boys are coming soon.” The day before the wedding, Arthur set up to go hunting in Warwickshire to celebrate with just the lads. “And they’ve already had a go at some champagne.”

            “Well, I’ll make myself scarce. I don’t want to ruin the fun.” She teased.

            “Oh please, they’d get a kick out of you coming along.” Tommy stroked Blue’s nose as he poked his head out of the stall to greet him. “Want me to take him?”

            “What do you think?” Kate cooed to the gelding. “Do you want to go along for the hunt?” She patted his strong neck. “I think he’d have fun. Lord knows I can’t entertain him much.” She rested a hand on her stomach. It was more than obvious that Kate was pregnant. At five months she had gone through a variety of getting dresses rehemmed or buying new clothes all together.

            “I’ll take good care of him,” Tommy promised and began to head to the tack room. But his fiancée stopped him.

            “Y’know, I was talking to Frances today,” She said. “Um, about the nursery.”

            The two had talked plenty about the pregnancy and subsequently the child or children, depending on if Polly was right. They had even discussed names. But the upstairs of Arrow House had become like a minefield.

            Grace’s room was locked and only Tommy had the key. The unfinished nursery that adjoined the room was still under debate. Kate felt as if it was her duty to make sure she wasn’t forcing him into anything. The estate had more than enough rooms to accommodate them if he wanted to close off that part of the hallway.

            Yet Tommy had pushed his feelings down. Deep down. As if he was trying to force everything to be okay.

            “The nursery is half done.” He replied. “All the furniture is new; we’d just need another cot if it’s twins like Pol says.”

            “If it’s twins then maybe we should use one of the bigger rooms?” She moved cautiously through the conversation. The last thing she wanted to do was put a damper on his day. But she still thought it was important.

            He met her eyes. “Kate, we talked about this.”

            “I know I just worry that you’re not addressing how you feel.” She touched his cheek. “The more honest you are with yourself; the easier life is.”

            “We have time on another day to discuss it further.” He kissed her cheek. “Go on back to the house and rest. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~

            “I think you’re right about twins, Pol,” Ada said.

            “When have I been wrong?”

            Kate chuckled softly. She turned right and left to look at herself in the mirror. Ada wasn’t joking. She remembered seeing Ada and Esme pregnant and they didn’t show nearly as much as she did. Especially in a wedding dress, it was hard to conceal. Not that she particularly meant to. She didn’t think anyone who was coming to the wedding that day would be openly critical. “Are there twins in your family?” She wondered.

            “Maybe a pair on the Strong side,” Polly recalled and walked over to place a dazzling barrette in Kate’s hair to hold back the curls from her face.

            “I didn’t know my mother’s side of the family very well,” Kate admitted. “It may be from her family.”

            Polly pivoted the conversation. “Are you sure about walking down the aisle alone? Arthur said he would walk with you.”

            “Yeah, he talked to me about it yesterday.” Kate mindlessly adjusted her dress in the mirror, smoothing a hand over her baby bump. “I appreciate it, but I’ll be alright.” There was never a point in her life where she pictured anyone giving her away. She never pictured herself walking down the aisle, to begin with. Her father was never fit enough to be that sort of figure in her life before his death. She felt much more comfortable making the short walk by herself. That's how she found her way to Tommy, all on her own.

            “Here.” Ada helped Kate step into her heels so she wouldn’t have to bend down.

            “Well, if you change your mind, I’m sure Arthur won’t mind the short notice.” Polly smiled and made sure every Kate’s hair was in place.

            Ada glanced up as she fixed the straps of Kate’s heels. “Is it true you invited Alfie Solomons?” She wondered.

            “I know his popularity in the family is mixed but he’s a good friend.” Kate asserted so there would be no confusion on the matter.

            “It’s your day. Whoever you want at your wedding, you can invite.” Polly nodded in agreement. Although in the back of her mind she hoped that Tommy had prepared the others to see Alfie. She didn’t want the wedding erupting in chaos over some old bad blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

            “I’m leaving.”

            “Brother, easy.” Tommy grabbed Arthur by the suit sleeve before he could storm across the lawns and out of sight.

            The guests were starting to take their seats and it just so happened that Alfie Solomons had a near front-row seat to watch the affair. He had a beautiful woman on his arm, Mabel. She looked less like the painfully shy thing that Kate had met at the boxing match. In fact, she was positively glowing with happiness as she exchanged kisses with her sister and the other ladies of the Forty Elephants.

            “You invite him to your fucking wedding? Your home?” Arthur seethed under his breath trying not to cause too much of a scene until he had an explanation.

            “Kate invited him,” Tommy replied quietly, not to draw attention to them. “And I won’t have you fighting with him on my fucking wedding day. I’ll keep him away from you if you promise you won’t kick-off. If you upset Kate, you're dead.”

            Arthur narrowed his eyes and reached into his coat pocket for his flask. “Could’ve warned me.” He muttered.

            “I did tell you. Not my fault you were too high on snow not to remember.” Tommy let go of Arthur’s sleeve, confident that his threat had done the trick. “He’s retired, anyways.”

            “Men like that don’t retire.” Arthur tucked his flask away.

            "Men like us don't retire." Tommy clarified. 

            The sun had come out, thankfully, for the wedding. Although Polly wanted the union to be under God’s watchful eye, Tommy and Kate had balked. Kate was unsure if she wanted to step on a nerve and get married in the same church Tommy and Grace did. There was no use in being forced to relive painful memories on what was supposed to be a happy day.

            Kate suggested perhaps getting married outside. Arrow House had plenty of room out in the lawns. And it reminded her of John and Esme’s wedding. There was something so romantic to her about the beautiful countryside in the spring.

            Tommy agreed and a suitable wedding venue was arranged. They were just fortunate that the weather had held and it hadn’t rained like the week before.

            So many times, Tommy had thought he’d lost Kate for good. On his journey to bring her home, he was restless as they crossed the Atlantic.

He hardly slept at all, spending most of his time, smoking on the deck of the ship. In the night, he waited until land came into view. But the inky black expanse of the waters and the night sky gave him nothing.

            He tried to think of what to say to her. The last words she spoke to him still cut so deep. He knew they weren’t true. She still loved him. But she was trying to keep him safe, trying to sacrifice herself.

            He pictured beating Santo Leoni into a bloody pulp. The sound of the gun as he put a bullet through the man’s head.

            Finally, the coast came into view. Exhausted but the drive to bring Kate back to safety kept him awake and alert.

            On the phone, Frank told him that Kate was fine and that she had killed Santo herself. Tommy hung up and could barely stand still as he waited. The wait at the port felt longer than the entire trip across the ocean. Every second dragged on until the car pulled up.

            Kate threw herself out of the car before it had even stopped. Tommy felt so much relief he could’ve cried. He vowed to himself that he would never let her go from that point on.

            “You look like you’ve gone into a dream state,” Kate murmured to him when Tommy took her hand.

            “I’m trying to convince myself it isn’t a dream.” He replied with a soft smile.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

            “Oh, they’ve been inseparable since he left for Margate. Lillian said Mabel hasn't come back to Camden since she first visited him. She simply had her stuff sent to her. Been there ever since and has no plans of leaving.” Alice loosely held the champagne flute in her hand. She and Kate were speaking on the edges of the dancefloor. "Of course, everyone's talking about it, but nothing to change. They seem to be in love, far as Lillian says." 

            Arrow House was abuzz with energy after Tommy and Kate married. The reception was considerably less proper compared to Tommy’s first one with Grace. With no cavalry members in sight, it was a little more relaxed. Not to mention the number of criminal masterminds in attendance. But truthfully, they were the most fun.

            Kate looked smug watching Alfie and Mabel talking across the dance floor. “Well, I won’t say I told him so.”

            Alice smiled and finished her champagne. “Alfie handed over some paperwork to me this morning.”

            “Oh?”

            “Wants me to take over the bakery.”

            Kate tried to play it cool even though she was excited for her friend and even more excited that Alfie had gone through with what he said. Maybe this was his final act of retirement and his acceptance of his new life with Mabel. “Well, you have the support of the Peaky Blinders.”

            “Just can’t wait to see Sabini’s face when he finds out.”

            “Ha,” Kate snorted. “I’d like to see that too.”

            “Mind if I interrupt?” Tommy stepped into their conversation.

            Kate beamed. What had been such a beautiful ceremony was melting into the ideal she never knew she wanted. A life forever by the side of the man she loved.

            “Of course.” Alice smiled. “I’m going to go find Lillian and Ruby.”

            Tommy took Kate’s hand and led her to the dancefloor. Holding her close, they began to sway together to the soft jazz music.

            “You haven’t gone off to meet with some crazy Russian duchess again, have you?” Kate teased.

            He chuckled. “For a Shelby wedding, this has been very uneventful.”

            “The night is still young.” She murmured in his ear with a smile.

            “I like it better this way.” He admitted. “I didn’t want anything to happen, it wouldn’t be fair to you.”

            “You’ve always treated me like I’m some sort of royalty.” She lightly ran her fingers up the nape of his neck.

            “That’s how you deserve to be treated. Every day I was apart from you, I promised I would make it up to you.”

            “Tom, you don’t need to beat yourself up because of the past. I’m here, we’re finally married. We’re going to be parents soon. Everything that happened, happened. And despite all of it, all my paths lead back to you.” She stopped dancing a moment so she could look him in the eyes. “And they always will.”

            Tommy saw the world in her eyes. A world very unlike the one he had planned for so many years. In Kate’s eyes, he saw himself walking away from everything. Moving into Arrow House permanently. Raising the children, they would have. Spending his days riding horses, hunting, and being the best father, he could.

            Those blue eyes invited him to do all of that and more. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

            He gently kissed her, hoping that he could hold steady onto his given path.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

            “Thought I’d find you out here.” Tommy sat down on the front steps next to Alfie. “Mabel was asking around for you. Kate had me come look for you.”

            Alfie seemed to snap out of his thoughts. “Oh, congratulations, mate.” He hadn’t really heard what Tommy had said to him. “Kate’s very happy. Y’know, before all this she’d come into me office. I figured it was because she was doing her fucking job but then she’d start lamenting to me about you. Like I were her gossip buddy.” He snorted and shook his head. “She wanted nothing more than to have you but didn’t think she deserved it. Of course, you and I both know it’s the opposite way around, innit?”

            Tommy shrugged.

            “I don’t deserve Mabel. Not in a million years. Not even if God himself came down and told me we were meant to be.”

            “I thought you two were hitting it off. That’s what Kate said.”

            “I ain’t never been so happy.”

            Tommy raised an eye at him. “Then what’s the problem, Alfie?”

            The man beside him took a heavy deep breath. “I’m dying, Tom. I told Kate at the boxing match. I’ve got skin cancer and it’ll kill me in a couple of years if I’m lucky. That’s why I want you to kill me.”

            After two blows, Tommy was a bit speechless. Alfie was dying and he wanted him to kill him. In what world were they living? This certainly wasn’t the man who had threatened to shoot Tommy on many occasions.

            “I’m not going to kill you, Alfie.”

            “Oh, c’mon you know you’ve wanted to fucking put a bullet through me head ever since we met. I ain’t blind. Now I’m giving you the option and you turn it down like a scared little boy?” Alfie wasn’t angry. When he was angry, everyone around him knew. No, this was fear. Fear coming from a man who claimed to be fearless.

            “What would that do to Mabel? Aye? And d’you think Kate would ever speak to me if I did?” Tommy questioned harshly. “You’ve got another part of life to appreciate, try not to skip out on it.”

            “Yeah, how much you think I’m gonna enjoy that while I’m rotting away?” Alfie demanded. “While Mabel watches?”

            Tommy shook his head. The logic wasn’t lost on him. How many nights had he been wide awake wondering how long he had to suffer? How much longer would he tolerate the pain and weight of the world? How many times had someone held a gun to his head? How many times was he completely at peace with the cold metal of a gun pressed against his skin? How many times had he waited patiently for that click and then….nothing.

            “I’m not killing you.” He said again. Because if Tommy had given in, he wouldn’t be sitting there. Married and about to be a father. “We’ll get the best doctors in London to help.”

            “Oh, right. So now you’re my saving grace?” Alfie rolled his eyes. “Fucking ridiculous. I don’t want some fucking doctor drugging me up. I ain’t gonna roam around life high like you lot.”

            “I know you don’t think you deserve Mabel. Maybe you don’t. Maybe I don’t deserve Kate. But look at us, aye? They’re still here with us. You fucking need God to come down and explain that to you?”

            Alfie grunted and crossed his arms over his chest. “I knew you’d be no fucking help.”

            “Take it up with Kate. See how she reacts and then you’ll realize how much easier I was on you.” Tommy replied and lit up a cigarette. “She’d go ballistic.”

            The two men sat out in the breezy spring night. Past the gravel drive was nothing but dark countryside with the sounds of nocturnal life.

            “I saw the ring Mabel was wearing.” Even at his own wedding reception, Tommy was perceptive. He could never turn it off even if he wanted.

            Alfie merely muttered something incoherent under his breath.

            “So, I invite you to my wedding but I’m not given the same courtesy.”

            “It were a gift.” He grumbled crankily. "Can't I buy jewelry for her without people getting their knickers in a twist?"

            Tommy tapped the ash off his cigarette to the step beside him. “So, no plans then?”

            “Her mum threw a fit when she found out. Even in retirement, I’m still the devil of Camden. No one wants their women near me. Her mum hated that we were friends when we were kids. Guess she thought she was in clear, that I wouldn't ever go near Mabel again.” He let out a humorless laugh. "Guess she were wrong and now I'm corrupting her thirty-four-year-old daughter. S'fucking ridiculous." 

            “Since when have you cared what anyone else thinks?”

            “I don't. But Mabel's getting an earful every night. Ain't fair to her." Alfie shrugged. “Just know there won’t be no blessings coming my way, that’s for sure.”

            “Except for Kate.”

            He laughed. “It’s tough to disappoint her, innit?”

            “I think she’d be disappointed if I killed you especially if she found out you asked me to do it.”

            “There’s just no pleasing some people.” Alfie shook his head.

            “Come on.” Tommy stood up. “Don’t want Kate thinking you’ve skipped off without saying goodbye to her.”

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Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[hatterstan-shameblog]

I did mean hatter x you as in you(the person that runs this blog) not as in hatter x the reader, sorry for the confusion.

Hatter X Me (Specifically)?

I can see it now...

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

It’s half-past eight in the evening, and I am sitting on one of the black leather sofas in Hatter’s room. I am hyper-aware of the fact that the back of my legs are sticking to said black leather sofa, just as I am hyper-aware of the fact that there is a very intense and partially shirtless man sitting next to me.

I tell myself that this is fine. I do not believe that this is fine, but I tell myself that it is, anyways. He has given me some kind of whiskey, and I take a nervous sip. It’s actually pretty good, and I tell him as much. He says something about it having notes of caramel and I nod, pretending to know what that means.

“What’s your specialty?” Hatter asks. I tell him that my specialty is panicking in stressful situations. He laughs. This is good, I think. I am Succeeding at Conversation.

He moves closer to me. I move closer to the arm of the sofa. I put my drink on the side table and then immediately pick it back up to take another sip.

I have a small crisis when he puts his arm around the back of the sofa and leaves his hand to lazily rest on my shoulder. I have another small crisis when he takes his sunglasses off and I attempt to make eye contact—you know, like a normal person.

“You look nice,” he tells me, the fingers of his opposite hand fussing with the hem of the sundress I have covering my swimsuit. I thank him. I tell him it has pockets. He laughs. I laugh too, but in a way that says ‘I am going to regret every second of this interaction for the rest of my life.’

He looks like he might kiss me. I am. Stressed out about this. I do not know why he would want to kiss me. I ask myself if I want him to kiss me. Myself says “Uh?” and is generally very unhelpful.

Before I can stop myself, I’m asking him what his favorite movie is. This is because I have never been cool about anything in my entire life, and also because I believe that a person’s favorite movie says a lot about who they are. For example, if his favorite movie is Moulin Rouge!, I will take off the sundress with the pockets and let him do whatever he wants to me. If it’s something like Manchester By The Sea, I will immediately leave the room and never talk to him again.

This is a very solid plan, I think.

To my surprise—and intense delight—he ponders the question for a moment before telling me that it would be impossible to choose just one favorite. I ask him for a top five. He tells me it might end up being more like a top seven or eight. I assure him that this is the exact opposite of a problem.

He tells me he likes The Godfather. He likes the Keira Knightly version of Pride and Prejudice. We get into a debate over whether Spirited Away or Howl’s Moving Castle is the best Ghibli movie, and settle on The Cat Returns being criminally underrated.

The topic shifts to television. Then to music. He is very easy to talk to, and the alcohol only makes it easier. I consider the whole ‘kiss’ thing again. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? He has nice lips...

...And, apparently, I’ve said that last part out loud, because he’s thanking me with a smile and a chuckle. My brain speed runs through all five stages of grief as I ask him if he uses one of those fancy lip scrubs I’ve heard about on Instagram and have never actually known anyone to use in real life. He tells me no, but that he is rather fond of the classic cherry flavor of Chapstick. Katy Perry starts singing “I Kissed a Girl” in my head like it’s 2008 or something, and I do my best to banish her to the shadow realm. It almost works.

It’s time to abort mission. I’ve said too much. My drink is a sad little slurry of mostly-melted ice and a teensy bit of watered-down whiskey, and I am very subtly trying to unstick myself from the sofa. I make an excuse about needing to be up early the next morning, and he seems to accept this, even though we both know that I have absolutely nothing to do tomorrow except sit by the pool with a margarita and contemplate my most-likely-fleeting mortality before the next game.

He’s—oh boy, aw geez, he’s moving in closer. Absolute madman is actually going to try and kiss me, even after I said I thought The Ramones are kind of overrated and I know it hurt him deeply but he acted like it didn’t. Maybe he liked my opinions on Paper Mario and the Thousand-Year Door enough to overlook that part?

Either way, I decide to hit him with the ol’ “Swerve Into A Hug Maneuver,” which works out splendidly in my favor because:

Being hugged is nice.

Being hugged by a very attractive man who appreciates The Talking Heads is very nice.

My evil little hands have been absolutely desperate to touch his kimono all night and I didn’t know how to ask him without making it weird(er), but now I have a ten-second window of sensory enjoyment as I respectfully but intently hold him to my person.

I do not need to tell you that the kimono is very smooth and warm and I am a better person for having touched it. I also do not need to tell you that he is truly well-versed in the art of embracing, and that his hair smells nice, and that I am very much hoping to be hugged by him again sometime in the near future.

“This was nice,” he tells me as we pull apart. I agree. I am also very thankful that he isn’t upset about the whole not kissing him thing. That is. Well. Maybe another time. Maybe. May. Be.

He walks me to the door. I thank him for his hospitality by saying “Thank you for your hospitality” and he says that I am most welcome by saying “You’re most welcome.”

I decide that this is a very good opportunity to kiss him on the cheek, so I kiss him on the cheek. I do not miss, but I also almost poke him in the eye with my nose, which is not ideal.

His skin is very nice-feeling, so I tell him that. Then I apologize for sounding like a serial killer, because that seems like something a serial killer might say. He tells me not to worry about it. I will worry about it for the next ten thousand years, unfortunately, but he doesn’t need to know that.

He kisses me back, the same way that I kissed him—minus the whole nose thing, of course. It’s nice in the way that kittens are nice, but also nice in the way that the pottery scene from Ghost is nice. I am definitely blushing. He definitely notices.

He tells me that I am adorable. He tells me we should do this again sometime. I have been rendered incapable of speech for the moment, so I just nod. He suggests lunch tomorrow. I nod again.

This is fine. Everything’s fine.

I say “Uh” and then I say “I’ll make us soup.” Soup is good. People like soup. Soup says “I care about you and also please do not judge me too harshly,” which is the exact mood I would like to inspire for our next meeting.

He says that sounds great. If I make eye contact with this man I will burst into flames, and not in a cute/fun/sexy/provocative way. It’ll be in an off-putting way, a way that prevents me from making soup tomorrow and that would just be...Very Not Good. When I promise someone soup, I keep that promise. I am a woman of my word. (In this way, at least.)

He opens the door. I tell him “goodnight” and he tells me “goodnight” back. I exit the room and he watches me walk down the hall towards the elevator. I am very proud of myself for not tripping over my flip-flops until after he has retreated back to his room.

I get back to my room. I get into bed. I regret every awkward thing I said to the man. I regret not asking if I could wear the kimono. I do not regret suggesting he watch Hannibal because it is a very good show and I think he would appreciate its overall aesthetic.

I think about soup recipes until I fall asleep at half-past three in the morning.

This is fine. Everything is fine.

[paperficwriter]

Be Thou My Vision

Aziraphale and Crowley! In Paris! In 1899! And there are some homages to Moulin Rouge, which is one of my favorite films. Enjoy!

Paris, 1899, in the neighborhood of Monmartre, a steady snow fell and covered the rooftops, the cold wind carrying the sound of can-can music from the nearby red windmill. Crowley had dragged Aziraphale to the Moulin Rouge to mingle with the bohemians, but when someone passed him a bottle of absinthe, some sugar and a metal spoon, he had lost track of him.

Now, though, it was almost midnight, and on New Years, it was utterly inappropriate for Crowley to not be with his best friend (note: it was still easier to call it that - a friendship - than to label it as something different, or something that might get them too much attention from both the mortal and immortal worlds both. It seemed the popular thing to do among humans of similar presentation too, though Crowley had a feeling that would lead to some confusion later on…), especially since he was in the same city for once.

He took the steps of the apartment structure that had been built over a cafe two at a time, long legs demonically enhanced and leaving small sparks with each footfall on the landings, like struck flint. 

When he got to the loft, Aziraphale was staring out the window, a book against his chest, his chin in his hand. Crowley followed his gaze out over the city towards the Eiffel Tower, barely visible in the snow as it thickened. Although he reclined on the purple chaise lounge that Crowley had acquired for him (because he insisted that he hated sleeping, that it was unnecessary, that he would much rather stay up and read), there was a tension to his shoulders, and he pulled a thick, velvet coat around himself.

Compared to Crowley, who was bare but for suspenders and cotton slacks, he was quite overdressed.

“What’s with the coat, angel?” Crowley asked. By his internal clock, there was still about five minutes. Plenty of time.

“It’s quite stylish, I’ll have you know!” Crowley jerked back like a dog that had been admonished. Aziraphale rarely snapped at him (not counting when he deserved it), and he must have realized it too, because he quickly said, “I’m sorry, dear boy. Really, it’s not you I’m irritated with.”

“Right.” Crowley sat down beside him, plucking the book away and putting it down on the shelf next to them. “So. You’re irritated with---”

“Your friends!” Aziraphale raised his hand with a flourish and then brought it down on his knee. “Those bohemian boys of yours! I walked in just behind you and they cut me off and said I…” He trailed off, pouting into his collar. Aziraphale trailed off, pouting into his collar. Crowley had a love-hate relationship with that pout; it was so utterly adorable and yet he would sink ships and burn bridges both when someone made his angel upset.“They said I looked like some bourgeois pig, with my fancy clothes and corpulence, as they put it.”

“Your French accent really is terrible.” Crowley tugged at his sleeve.

“I know! Do you think that helped?!” Aziraphale crossed his arms over his chest, and the pout intensified to near-explosive lengths (Crowley would be the one doing the exploding). “I’m not an idiot,” he finally said. “I know I could change this form. I know that I could be less...of what I am, but I like this body, Crowley. And I don’t like when people make me feel like I should be ashamed of it.”

In the distance, Crowley could hear the sounds of people counting backwards in French. Champagne was being shaken, lips puckering, the cold bellringer at Notre Dame (who actually had a very fine back, but a shit liver) grabbing the rope and beginning to pull…

And Crowley threw his hands up to Hea-- well, he threw them up. And everything stopped.

Everything except Aziraphale, whose eyes focused on the snowflakes now hovering motionless in the air like stars. “Crowley, you know you are not supposed to do that! You’ll be reprimanded for sure--”

“Pah,” Crowley remarked, slouching onto the bed beside him. “If I can’t have New Years with you happy, then no one can have it.”

“That’s...a little dramatic, dear boy.” 

“It’s the turn of the century, angel! Let them wait on their little bohemian revolution.”

Aziraphale clicked his tongue at him, but didn’t actually make any further remarks on the situation. The world truly was so still when everyone wasn’t making such loud to-do’s about everything. 

“I’m not going to let it start like this, with you not appreciating how beautiful you are.”

He could see the little jump in Aziraphale’s shoulders, and heard the sharp intake of breath. His round cheeks went a little rosy, and his warm hand found Crowley’s chilly one. “Crowley…” he whispered. 

It wasn’t their first kiss. But given that about forty years before, when Crowley didn’t think there would be any more kisses ever (foolish, thinking a fight would end anything -- it never did, but it always felt that way at the time), now he would take it. He would delight in it, as he always did. Soft lips. A warm nose pressed into his narrow cheekbone. The smell of books and candlelight.

“We shouldn’t,” Aziraphale murmured, fingers hopelessly tangled in red hair and a suspender strap.

“That’s never stopped us before, angel.” It took two hands to get at the topcoat’s buttons. “You don’t have to cover up in all this.”

“What if someone is watching?” Aziraphale glanced both up and down, as if it needed to be clarified that he didn’t mean some passing Parisian pervert. 

He managed it, starting on the next set, talking as he went in that rapid-fire sinister sensuality that was so very, very much his style. “No one’s watching, and I’ll file it as a divine temptation. There I was, in Paris, promoting terrible imbibing of hallucinogenic drinks, when what to my wandering serpent eyes should appear, but an angel in doubt.”

“I’m not in doubt! Don’t even joke, Crowley!” The demon kissed the center of his furrowed brows, nuzzled there with his face until he relaxed. “There’s no holy oath against a little insecurity now and then.”

“I still won’t have it, angel.” There. The last of the damnable buttons undone. Who had been in charge of the last change in fashion? His side, or Upstairs? He wasn’t sure, but something needed to be done about the next trend to come. Burying his face against Aziraphale’s chest and soft stomach, he squeezed, hissing, overcome very suddenly by how much he loved this body, loved all of his constant companion. Which was so much not like what a demon should do, and that made him all the gladder to express it.

Aziraphale squeezed his head and held him just as near in turn. “You’re being positively ridiculous. You make it sound like you found me drowning in tears like the lead in some...Sarah Bernhardt play.”

“You really think that after so many thousands of years…” Crowley gazed up at him with his golden eyes, and he wondered for a second what they looked like, the two of them, in this affectionate embrace that was only intimate when you really peered at it. What kind of painting might they resemble? Caravaggio? Lomi? Rubens? “You really think I need to see you crying to know when you’re hurt?”

Aziraphale didn’t say anything, averting his eyes to his dress shirt and tutting. “I’m ruining your good time being so…”

“Vain?” he couldn’t help joke. 

“Don’t!” This time Aziraphale smiled, and he gently slapped his cheek. It didn’t even make a sound. “Do you, though?” he asked in a whisper. “Do you really think--”

Another kiss, a kiss for ‘yes.’ A kiss for ‘of course, silly clever thing.’ A kiss for ‘forever, from the start of Day One until the End.’ That was true. He was glad to be kissing him instead of saying it, how there was always fondness back when Heaven resembled sunken gardens and nebulas and sun-warmed clouds and not Versailles. And how when he first slithered his way back after All That Unfortunate Nonsense, he saw him standing there at the Eastern Gate and thought, ‘maybe’...right up until She gave him that sword and he smiled like the sun and Crowley - Crawly - fled the scene to talk to that lady about the apple.

Could he really blame him for going doe-eyed when he said that he had just given it away?

“Show me.” Damn the angel’s endearing eyes and his pitiful smile. 

“What do you think I’m doing exactly?”

“Show me more. Please. However will I be a true believer, and how will you be a true tempter?”

Crowley smirked. He had already lost. No amount of fussing over it would change that. Not that he wanted to. But he also couldn’t just give Aziraphale the satisfaction. With the wave of his hand, the shirt, the pants, everything but his sock garters and silky, knee-length drawers remained. They were open in the back, he could tell. Such was in the style. That was his lot’s doing. “Animal!” Aziraphale scolded, but he was smiling and blushing.

“How can I appreciate you when you have to layer a hundred garments over the good parts?” Crowley slid down to his knees, chin tucked but eyes up. He lovingly kissed the softest part of his thigh. “Let us pray…”

“Crowley…” Aziraphale studied each press of lips, caress of fingers, slip of tongue, and he seemed to melt on the lounge until he was picked up in the demon’s strong arms. He leaned up to rest his forehead against Crowley’s, and it tingled a little, like lightning in the air at the top of a tower just as the stormcloud rolled in. It was where his halo would be. Where it perhaps still was.

He missed his wings, but he wouldn’t tell him that tonight. Because he would manifest them immediately and someone would notice that time had stopped, because he would have his hands in them all night. 

The bed creaked under their bodies, Aziraphale on his back and Crowley sitting between his legs. He snapped his fingers and what remained of his own clothing was tucked away. All of it would be in the dresser by the door in the morning.. “I think it’s like...when people walk out into the sun,” Crowley said, coming up to touch around his knee, to appreciate their dimples before moving back up, sliding on his belly like the serpent that he was, that he still was even after all this time. “They hate how it gets in their eyes...makes them ssssweat...turn red...but who could ever actually hate the sun? How it always glows…”

He gave a peck to each side of his chest, the dip of his neck. When his hand slipped into the folds of Aziraphale’s undergarments, he was pulled down into that body that was as giving as goose feathers. He pecked at his neck. “You’re soft, angel.”

“I know,” he said, and it might have come out dejected if not for the moan of pleasure as he found warm, hard flesh to put his hand on. 

“Don’t ever think poorly of that. Not when it’s something I love about you. One of many things. Things I could very well die for.”

“Let’s...not talk about things like that now, dearest.” Aziraphale guided him into another kiss, and when he waved a hand downward, everything was gone, leaving them both blissfully as naked as they had come into the world (though perhaps looking a bit less humanish). 

“Aw. I like the garters.”

“Really? I can bring them back.”

“No, no.” Crowley squirmed out of his arms and knelt, gazing down at his whole visage there. Without the world turning, the scrutiny of his eyes was a slow drag of a bow across a cello. “This is perfect.”

Aziraphale messily hugged the pillow beside him against his face. Now, he truly did remind him of a cherub. “I’m ready for you, love.”

He returned to lying on top of him, the kiss coming with his sharp teeth for just a second, only enough to make Aziraphale gasp in a way that amused him as much as it aroused. “One day, I’ll have you start to finish. With all the preparations that they like to do with fingers and oil and...other things, maybe…”

“And one day,” Aziraphale echoed, stroking his cheeks, “may I be granted the patience to handle the wait.”

Crowley entered the sanctity of him.

Blissful wet, and tight. Always tight. But didn’t they all love their ideology around virgins, about every touch being like the first touch? Not that Crowley was complaining. Aziraphale’s body always responded like this was a gift, like this was a union. It was never just fucking with Aziraphale. At least not now. Not yet. Maybe that would be a ‘one day’ too, when these moments weren’t years apart. Sometimes centuries.

When momentary indiscretions could be something as commonplace as tea time and duck ponds.

“Crowley...oh, my darling...my...Crowley…”

“Aziraphale…”

They could end it at any time, but they never did. They always left this part of themselves so very mortal at the end, so the natural progression could take over, so they could feel the other unraveling and know it wasn’t because of some magic trick.

Aziraphale was always ruined first. Pretty little thing, like he was starved for it, like it was a sweet treat that he had never had and might never have again. And, admittedly, then he might go back for seconds, as it were, but Crowley never pointed it out. All was the better for him.

When he spilled, it was like rising. And it only lasted a second, only ever a second, even when there were no seconds actually passing, like it was now. When he Fell, it was eternity. When he Rose, it was bobbing for just a moment and then settling back again.

But Aziraphale was always there, ready to hold him, to keep him from grieving.

“Go on,” the angel said now, his hair a mess across the pillows, curling up under the sheets like a cat. “I’m ready.”

“Oh, of course, if his Majesty is ready.” Crowley kissed his nose, closed his eyes, and the snow fell again. The music swelled, and bells began to ring out. Everyone kissed, and they did too, and just like this, so still, Crowley could swear he could actually feel the world turn. 

[idabbleincrazy]

Invisible Touch Ch.5

Pairing: Gabriel x Reader

Word Count: 2614

Warnings: um...pining?, like seriously, you might end up screaming “just kiss already!” other than that none that i can think of. 

Summary: y/n and Gabriel go to a bar in town and its karaoke day. 

A/N: I know I said I might do a time skip but this happened instead (gotta follow the muse where it goes, right?) and tough as it was to write, I had fun writing it. Song is from Moulin Rouge (if u have never seen it, u should!) Quotations in italics are the lyrics. I truly hope you guys enjoy this chapter! 

Y/f/a/d= your favorite alcoholic drink

You had finished your lunch with Gabriel without incident, finally able to have a conversation that didn’t leave you fumbling for words or wanting to flee in embarrassment. He had been quiet at first, watching you eat for a few minutes, and you had started to feel self-conscious. Thankfully, just as you could feel the flush starting to rise to your cheeks, he began talking. He didn’t further explain this morning’s upset, and you were loathe to bring it up either, so you decided to just let it go. The two of you carried on, talking about this and that, every now and then Gabriel reaching across the table to take a fry from your plate, dipping it into the chocolate frosty he had snapped up.

When you had finished eating, you continued to talk for about an hour, till you got a call from Sam asking you to go look up something in the library. You excused yourself and went to go find the book Sam had named. You quickly found the book, which was just within your reach and spent the next twenty minutes flipping through the pages and relaying the information, stopping every now and then to send him pictures of symbols that you couldn’t quite interpret. After hanging up, you put the book back and went back to the war room, slightly surprised to see Gabriel was still there.

“Boys need help with their homework” Gabe questioned, an almost annoyed smirk on his face.

“Yeah, seems they came across an older nest of vamps than they’ve encountered before. Sam said they’re stronger than the others they’ve fought, even the ones that aren’t pureblood. They got half of them before the rest made their escape. It might take an extra day to track down the rest.”

You sat back down at the table, propping your feet up. You considered something for a moment before speaking again. “You know, I’m getting kinda bored just sitting around here, want to go do something?”

“Like what?” Gabriel looked at you cautiously.

“Well, it’s five o’clock, somewhere right? How about we go to a bar, there’s one in town we haven’t been to yet.” You cocked an eyebrow at him as you spoke, wanting desperately to get out of the bunker for a while.

“Uh, sure. We taking one of the cars from the garage, or would you rather I just zap us there?”

“It would probably be best if you took us there. That way I don’t have to worry about driving back”, you respond, getting up from your chair to pull your phone from your pocket.

You quickly look up the address of the bar and an inconspicuous place for Gabriel to snap you to. You hand him your phone to look at the map and make your way around the table to where he is now standing. He hands you back your phone and grabs ahold of the sleeve of your shirt, careful not to brush against your skin, lest he cause another spark from the contact. You close your eyes as you feel reality shift around, and when you open them again you are standing in the alley behind the bar. The two of you walk around to the front of the building, Gabriel’s hand lingering on your sleeve, the warmth from his touch slowly sinking through the layer of fabric.

You walk in and stand in the doorway for a few seconds as your vision adjusts to the sudden dimness. As you look around, you are surprised by the rather sizable crowd in the bar. It may be Saturday, but its barely 2:30 in the afternoon, you weren't expecting the town to have so many day-drinkers. The bar is rather large, bigger than the other two you had already gone to with the boys.

As you and Gabriel head up to the bar, you notice why the place is livelier than you thought it would be. Set up at the back of the building is a stage with a banner over it reading Karaoke Saturday. When you get to the counter, you find a flyer and quickly scan it for the start time. It started in a hour. You figure all the early birds are getting a head-start on fueling up on liquid courage.

You order a (y/f/a/d) and Gabriel orders a Purple Nurple, at which you just shake your head, having heard the story of how the boys first met Gabe over a decade ago. He slams back the shot, orders another and tells the bartender to keep them coming as you go to find an empty booth. Gabriel sits down, handing you your drink as he sets down his second shot along with the beer he ordered. You quirk an eyebrow up at him.

“You never cease to surprise me, Gabe. Beer and a drink that’s basically a cranberry-vodka? Neither of those are particularly sweet. I’d have figured you'd order something with an umbrella.”

“Nah. When it comes to drinks, the simpler the better. ‘Sides, it takes a lot more for me to even feel a buzz, remember?” He took a swig from the beer, letting out a contented sigh as he set it back down and looked at you.

You nodded at him in slight wonder and took a sip of your drink. You noted that the bartender hadn't skimped on the alcohol like most other places do. You made a note to yourself not to drink too much too fast. Didn't want to go making a fool of yourself, now did you?

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

An hour and two drinks later, you were feeling well relaxed as a man got up on the stage and announced the start of the karaoke, calling up the first person on the list. As the music started, you couldn't help but smirk as you recognized the beginning of The Offspring’s ‘You’re Gonna Go Far Kid’. It was one of the songs that never failed to make you think of Gabriel. You looked over at him to find him considering the stage with a wistful smile on his face.

You went up to the bar to get another drink, letting the music surround you. The guy singing wasn't half-bad, and it sounded nearly as good as the original. By the time you got your drink and headed back to the booth, the next person headed up to the stage. The opening guitar work of Pat Benatar’s ‘Invincible' rang out from the speakers as you sat down.

The power of the music and your third drink thrummed in your veins, making you bolder than you had thought possible at the moment. You considered yourself for a second before turning your attention to Gabriel.

“Hey, Gabe, you ever done karaoke”, you asked the archangel, a nervous flutter running through your chest.

“Of course”, he replied. “Hard to spend so many centuries down here and avoid that gem of human creation. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I was wondering if you'd like to do a duet with me”, you asked with hope in your eyes.

“Huh. Sure, cupcake. What did you have in mind?”

You flashed him a quick smile as you got up to find the sign-up sheet. “It's a surprise. If you don't know the words already, I'm sure you can just snap them into your memory.”

You signed the both of you up and went back to the booth, determined to be just buzzed enough to push back any lingering doubts and fears by the time they called your names. Over the course of the next half hour, you finished off your drink and two shots of whiskey, feeling pleasantly tipsy but still sober enough to talk without slurring. Your nervousness abated, you watched Gabriel closely as he consumed more Purple Nurples. As the current song faded, you straightened up and prepared yourself mentally, knowing you were next on the list.

The man came back on stage and called out your names. Gabriel got up first and reached a hand out to you to help you out of the booth. As your hands touched, instead of the electric shock you had experienced this morning, you felt a tickling warmth spreading from his hand to yours and up, throughout your body. You smiled up at him and the two of you made your way up to the stage.

The man in charge handed you your microphones and you waited for the song to start. As the name of the song appeared on the screen, Gabriel let out a small laugh and looked over at you. “Really, sugar?”

“What, it's one of my favorite movies! It makes a perfect duet.” You crinkled your nose and held in a giggle.

The two of you turned to face the bar patrons as the words to “Elephant Love Medley” showed up on the screen.

Hoping the crowd was buzzed enough not to care that the beginning of the song was more talking then singing, Gabriel began, taking of course, the part of Christian, while you would be his Satine.

“Love is many, splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong. All you need is love.” His voice carried through the speakers, a voice that at the same time as being non-threatening, commanded to be listened to.

You gulped and quickly put on the British accent that you were quite proud of as you spoke out your part. “Please, don't start that again.”

Back and forth you went as the music kicked in. When the time came to actually sing, he turned to face you. You noticed he was acting just like Christian did in the movie, right down to the hand gestures, so you decided to do the same. Chuck knows, you've watched the movie enough times to have Satine’s part memorized.

You turned away from him at the line “You crazy fool, I won't give in to you” and back again at his spoken “Don't”, now fully immersed in the performance. What you hadn't expected was the way your heart clenched as you looked into his eyes as he softly sang out “dont leave me this way”. You took a breath as you quickly prepared for the next verse, praying your voice wouldn't be as shaky as you suddenly felt.

“You'd think that people would've had enough of silly love songs.” You managed to squeak out, thankful that this part of the song was softly sung in the movie too.

“I look around me and I see it isn't so, oh no.” Gabriel took a step toward you as he sang.

“Some people wanna fill the world with silly love songs.” Breathe in, breathe out, don’t look him in the eye.

Another step. “Well, what’s wrong with that”, step, “I’d like to know”, step, his hand reaching out to you and caressing your chin, nudging your face up to look at him, “’cause here I go, again.”

As his verse continued, you could feel the warmth from his touch spreading through you once more, your nervousness ebbing away and your heartbeat calming again. You stared back at him, leaning in to his touch, your resolve to see this through hardening. Smirking, you sang back at him.

“Love makes us act like we are fools. Throw our lives away, for one happy day.”

“We can be heroes”, he belted out, his hand sliding away from your chin, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Just for one day.”

Slipping back into the scene you were playing out, you turn away from him, shaking your head. “You, you will be mean.”

“No, I won’t.”

“And I, I’ll drink all the time!” You prepared for the next few lines, reminding yourself it was just a song, he was just performing for the crowd.

“We should be lovers”, he crooned.

“We can’t do that.” You looked back at him, your head cast downward, looking up at him through your lashes.

“We should be lo-oo-overs,” Gabriel grabbed your hand, pulling you around to face him, caught up in the song just as much as you were. “And that’s a fact.”

“No, nothing would keep us together.”

“We could steal time, just for one day.” The look in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine as you continued singing to each other, forgetting that there was anyone else in the room.

“We could be heroes, forever and ever”, your voices joined together in a delicious harmony that would’ve given Nicole and Ewan a run for their money.

As the operatic crescendo built up around you, you felt your heart thumping loudly in your chest and you could feel a tingle of electricity coming from his hand again. This time, it didn’t shock either of you but instead was gentle and soothing. Neither of you noticed when the music ended. You just stared at each other until the noise of the applauding crowd broke through and you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. You smiled at Gabriel and quickly ducked your head as you felt a blush rising to your cheeks.

“Gabriel and (y/n), everybody!” The announcer came back on stage to retrieve your mics and the two of you headed back to your booth.

“Wowzers, (y/n), I had no idea you could sing like that! You should do it more often.” Gabriel looked at you warmly as you sat down. “Let me go get you something to drink, you must be parched after that performance. Another one of those?” He gestured at your empty glass.

“No, I’ll have a beer this time, thanks Gabe.”

As he went to get the drinks, you took the moment alone to contemplate the craziness that had just occurred. You were ecstatic that nothing had gone wrong up on stage, you had gotten through it without completely embarrassing yourself. But, those looks Gabriel had given you had thrown you for a loop. You were wary not to get your hopes up that the lyrics of the song had meant the same to him as they had to you. You were glad that the two of you were able to finally get along and didn’t want to push the issue and end up ruining everything again. Unfortunately, you also had a nagging curiosity about why his touch no longer shocked you, but still emitted a type of energy you hadn’t yet encountered with other angels. It might be because he was an archangel, but you had a feeling it went deeper than that.

You were brought back from your thoughts as you saw Gabriel coming back with the beers, and you smiled at him as he handed you one of them. “You know, you were pretty awesome yourself, up there. I guess I should’ve expected it though, seeing as how you are the archangel of languages.”

“Heh. Well, someone’s done their homework, haven’t they? And, yes, singing happens to be one of my many talents.” He flashed his flirty smirk and raised his eyebrow.

The two of you drank your beers and listened to the next three performers in silence, this time just enjoying each other’s presence, no trace of the normal awkwardness you usually felt. After you finished, you asked Gabriel to snap you back home, not wanting to travel past the mellow buzz you felt into the nauseously drunk category. Gabriel went and paid the tab and you walked out and back around to the alley you had arrived in. Once again, you closed your eyes as reality bent around you, waiting till you felt ground firmly beneath your feet before opening them again.

Gabe’s Babes: @liloldlou @calamitychaos

Rich’s Bitches: @warlockwriter @archangelgabriellives @green-draws0 @waywardtricks @hankypranky @briars-glenn @thewhiterabbit42

Invisible Touch: @somewhatnatural @missihart23 @whodoesntlovefanfics @baritonechick @nobodys-baby-now @marichromatic @black-angel-bahamut  

tags are still open.

[musiclovingbitch]

Incapacitated by Love

Summary: AU. Police Officer!Blaine

“I’m your ex, you are a cop, and I just got arrested for being drunk and disorderly”

~3.6k words

[A/N:Okay, so I wrote half of this fic before realizing that public inebriation is not actually a crime in New York anymore. But, like. I'd already written half of it, so. Fuck it.]

on AO3

Kurt stumbled over his own feet. “God, I’m so drunk. So stupid.” he mumbled to himself. He cut himself some slack though. It wasn’t like he did this regularly, and he had a genuine reason.

Today was exactly six months since their break up. And it just so happened to fall on a Saturday, so he couldn’t distract himself with work. All he could do was sit on the couch and remember. After watching Moulin Rouge for the second time and crying through most of it, he’d decided to get hammered. He wanted to forget, but the thing that no one tells you is that when you drink to forget, the only thing that happens is you get reminded of the thing you wanted to forget all the more.

“That’s my job, Kurt! I can’t just quit and find something else to do just because you’re scared!” Blaine had said on that damned evening.

“But it’s so dangerous, Blaine! Everytime you walk out the door I’m terrified you’ll never walk back in again!” Kurt had responded.

“I told you on our first date, I asked you specifically if my job was going to be a problem for you, and you said it wouldn’t be!” Blaine had accused, pointing a finger at him.

“That was before I fell in love with you, okay?” Kurt had shouted at him.

“Kurt, I love you too, and I understand what you’re feeling, truly, I do, but you can’t just expect me to change my life around.” Blaine had said dejectedly.

There had been a couple minutes’ worth of silence, spent staring at each other. Kurt had wrapped his arms around himself. “I don’t know what to do.” he’d whispered.

He’d seen Blaine tense and take a deep breath. He could never have expected the thing that would come out of Blaine’s mouth. “I think we should take a break.”

He didn’t realize he was crying until he licked his lips and the taste of salt filled his mouth. A car horn made him look up. Everything was spinning. He closed his eyes tightly and tried not to fall over.

“So, so stupid.” he thought aloud. He was really sad. He wanted Blaine. But he couldn’t have him. So he called Rachel instead. He wasn’t really sure how he managed to do that, but he wasn’t gonna complain.

“It’s all my fault! I let him get away, I didn’t even fight for us! And for what? My own insecurities? My stupid stupid stubbornness?” he said when she answered, in lieu of a ‘hello’.

There was a small silence before she spoke up. “Oh, Kurt. Are you drunk?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. Probably. Everything is spinning. My heart hurts. And there’s this thing in my throat that makes it hard to breathe. I don’t like this, Rachel.” he said, his voice growing gradually more strangled as he finished his tirade.

“Do you want me to call Santana and get her to come over? You two can watch whatever you want until you fall asleep?” she suggested.

“No! The last thing I want to do is wanna fall asleep.”

“Indoor voice, Kurt.” she chided him, but he didn’t listen.

“Every time I sleep, hell, every time I close my eyes I see him. His stupid face, and his stupid expressive eyes, with his stupid triangle of an eyebrow, and his stupid, plump lips that take my breath away, and his stupid stupid smooth skin.” he voice kept getting louder and louder as he went on, but he didn’t notice or care.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m calling Santana, I’m sending her over.” Rachel says.

“Wait, wait, I’m not. I’m not in the apartment Rachel.” he says.

“What? Kurt, you’re drunk, alone, in public? That’s incredibly dangerous, what were you thinking?”

“I was trying to stop thinking, thank you very much.”

He hears her sigh. “Kurt, you’re yelling again. And, okay. Where are you? I’ll have Santana come get you and you’ll go back to your apartment together, okay?” she proposes.

“That does sound nice. It’s getting colder and I’m not dressed for it.”

“Kurt, where are you?”

“Uh…” he looks around, then staggers to the left, leaning on a random wall. “Wow, I’m really...drunk. Dizzy. Rachel, make the world stop spinning.”

“Just close your eyes and focus on your breathing, okay?” Rachel says soothingly.

“I don’t want to close my eyes. I don’t want to see his stupid face. His stupid, stupidly handsome face.” Just like that, Kurt finds himself tearing up. But he doesn’t let himself cry. He has other, more pressing problems.

“Uh, Rachel, I kinda...don’t know where I am.” he says sheepishly. He thinks, if he were sober, this would upset him more.

“God, Kurt. Okay, okay. Is there anyone around you can ask?”

“Uhhh...oh, yeah!” he exclaims. He walks over to the woman with the stroller.

“Um, excuse me, ma’am. Ma’am? Yes, hello. I was wondering, would you please tell me which street this is?” he asks her.

He ignores him, and picks up her pace. Kurt doesn’t think it’s a good idea to run, especially considering how upset his stomach is. He yells after the woman instead. “Please? I just wanna go home!”

He gets no response and sighs, walking over to a pole and grabbing hold of it to stable himself. He lifts the phone to his ear again.

“She wouldn’t tell me, Rachel. I thought moms were supposed to be kind to strangers. She even had her baby with her!”

“You approached a woman with a baby, drunk, at almost midnight, Kurt. What did you think was going to happen?”

“Hey, you were the one that suggested it!”

“You should have chosen someone else!”

“Well, I like babies okay? They’re cute! Is that a crime?”

“No, but being drunk in public is.” he hears a voice from behind him and freezes.

He turns around slowly and finds a police officer looking at him.

“Crap.”

He jumps back, startled, then proceeds to fall flat on his back.

“Are you alright?” the police officer asked.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.” Kurt said, having picked himself off the ground.

“I’m going to need you to follow me to the station.”

“What? No! I mean, I’m just trying to find where I am, so my friend can pick me up.”

The officer points behind him. To a street name sign.

“Oh. Well, thank you.”

“Sir, I’m going to need you to blow into this.” the officer said and placed a breathalyzer in front of his face. Kurt did, a sinking feeling in his gut. The police officer glanced at it and made a facial expression Kurt couldn’t discern.

“Sir, you’re going to need to come with us back to the station.”

“Oh.”

Kurt hung up the phone and put it in his pocket. The officer drew her gun out.

“Pull your hand out of your pocket, slowly.” when Kurt just looked at her dumbfounded, she added “Now.”

“I-I was just putting my phone back, I swear!”

Kurt slowly took his hand out of his pocket and raised it, palm open. The officer relaxed, took a pair of handcuffs from her belt.

“Now, since you’re being cooperative, I’m going to cuff your hands in front of you. Don’t make me regret that decision.”

“Okay.” Kurt said, resigned. This day was getting worse by the second. “Thank you.” he added.

The officer lead him to the car, where another police officer was waiting with her arms crossed. Midway through the ride to the station, a thought popped into Kurt’s mind. He gasped and moved forward. The police officer turned her head to him.

“What--what precinct are you?” his voice wavered, he couldn’t help it. Please don’t be 5th, please don’t be 5th, please don’t be 5th.

“Fifth.” the officer responded. His thoughts must have shown on his face, cause she frowned intently. “Do you have something against our precinct?” she asked, her tone a bit defensive.

Kurt shook his head, then stopped because it made his headache worse. “N-No. No, um. No. I’m sorry.” he said and resolutely stared at his hands until the drive was over. He felt like he was going to puke, but the alcohol in his system had little to do with it.

They took his handcuffs off, patted him down, and took his wallet and phone with them before they lead him to the holding cell. Kurt sat in a corner and tried to hide his face, less he be recognized. Deep inside, he knew it was inevitable, but he wanted to prolong it as much as humanly possible.

The cell door opened, but he didn’t turn to see who it was.

“Mr. Hummel.”

He flinched. His blood run cold. All this time, he’d been thinking about how humiliating it would be for one of Blaine’s friends to be here and recognize him. The thought that Blaine himself might be there had not even registered as a possibility to him. But apparently, the universe hates him this much.

“Kurt.”

Kurt took as big a breath as he could, gathered up all his might and stood up. He didn’t look at him, couldn’t look at him. The floor was way too interesting for him to be able to tear his eyes away from it. All the times he’d been here, he’d never noticed the pattern.

He followed Blaine to his desk and sat down. He refused to look at him still, and inspected his fingernails. Finally, after a solid minute of the feeling of Blaine’s eyes boring into his profile, Blaine spoke.

“I filled out your forms, you won’t have to do anything but sign them. Since this is your first arrest, and the crime you commited was minor, and also because you were cooperative, you’ll only have to pay a fine.”

Kurt nodded but didn’t speak. Blaine stared at him some more, then continued.

“You can call someone to bail you out now.” he said, then pushed the phone on his desk towards Kurt.

Kurt nodded once more, then called Rachel.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Rachel, it’s Kurt.” he said, and surprised himself at how quiet his voice came out. He cleared his throat and spoke a little louder. “I need you to come bail me out.”

“Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re okay! I heard the whole thing over the phone, well, before you hung up, and I was so worried, oh my god.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry. Can you please just, come get me?”

“Um...Kurt, Jessie’s still in rehearsal...I can’t leave Fiona alone.”

“Oh! Oh, yes, I...I forgot, I’m sorry. It’s okay, I’ll figure something out.”

“Should I call Santana?”

“No, I’ll do it, she’d kill you for waking her up.”

“Kurt--”

“Goodnight, Rachel.” he said, then hung up. He stared at the phone for a bit, the said

“Uh, I’m sorry, could I please make another phone call?”

“Why?”

“Um, Rach--uh, Rachel had her baby, and Jessie’s not home yet so she can’t come.”

Silence again. “I’ll take you home.”

“No, no, that’s not necessary.” Kurt said, shaking his head.

“ I insist.”

“I…” Kurt wrecked his mind trying to find an excuse. “You have work.”

“If you’d bothered to take one look at me, you’d see I’m in my civilian clothes. My shift ended fifteen minutes ago.”

“So why are you still here, then?”

“You know exactly why I’m still here. Let me take you home.”

“Santana can do i--”

“Santana will hold this over you for years. I daresay this isn’t something you’ll want to be brought up over and over again.”

Kurt weighed over the pros and cons in his head. There really was one option, but he wasn’t sure his heart would take it.

“Kurt, come on. Is the thought of spending half an hour in a car with me really that repulsing to you?”

Kurt huffed. Of course it wasn’t, that was the whole point, you stupid, stupidly attractive moron. “Okay, fine.”

“Wait here.” Blaine said and left. Kurt picked up the paperwork, skimmed it, and signed it. Blaine came back five minutes later with Kurt’s stuff in hand.

“Thank you.” Kurt whispered.

“Come on.” Blaine said, and Kurt stood up and followed him. They walked to Blaine’s car, parked a little ways away from the precinct’s entrance. They both buckled in, and Blaine started the car. “Same place?”

“Yeah.” Kurt said, looking out the window.

There were a few seconds of silence before Blaine spoke up.

“God, Kurt, what were you thinking? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be out in New York, at night, alone, and incapacitated? Anything could have happened to you!”

Kurt looked over despite himself. He looked at Blaine’s hands, the way they were clenched around the steering wheel. He looked at his hands and not at Blaine’s face, not his face, never his face, he couldn’t. He turned to look out the window again.

“I doubt I was drunk enough for the word ‘incapacitated’ to apply to me.”

“You nearly harassed a mother and her baby! At the very least, your judgement was impaired.”

Kurt couldn’t really disagree with that. He said nothing, blindly reaching over and turning the radio on.

That proved not to be the best of ideas, as every song brought with it a different memory from the three years he’d spent with Blaine. A Saturday morning making breakfast together, a Friday night where Blaine had spontaneously pulled him up and started dancing with him in the middle of dinner, a Tuesday morning where he had surprised Blaine with a coffee on his desk, numerous car rides where he and Blaine sang songs to one another and with one another.

For the second time in one night, Kurt found himself crying. He cried as silently as he could, but he was pretty sure Blaine had him all figured out. Finally, Blaine pulled up in front of his apartment building. Kurt unbuckled himself and went to open the door, but Blaine’s hand grabbed his wrist before he could leave.

“Kurt, Kurt wait, just…” he held onto Kurt’s wrist until he sat back down. “Will you please look at me?”

Kurt turned his head towards him, and if Blaine hadn’t figured out he was crying he sure knew now, but he didn’t look up. Blaine released his grip on Kurt’s wrist. A minute of tense silence passed, Blaine staring at Kurt, Kurt staring at anything but Blaine.

“I can’t.” barely a whisper, it was all he could muster up.

Blaine reached out his hand. Kurt was sure he was going to lift his chin up, force him to meet his eyes, but he didn’t, simply used his fingers to stroke back a few pieces of hair that had fallen on Kurt’s forehead, and wow, why did that hurt so much more.

Kurt let out a pained whimper and Blaine’s hand disappeared. Kurt sniffled, opened the door, and left.

He woke up the next day to his phone ringing.

“ ‘llo?”

“Kurt, oh my god, where are you, are you okay?”

“Yeah? I’m at home, in my bed.”

“I called Santana this morning to get an update on how you’re doing, and she had no idea what I was talking about.”

Kurt groaned. “You told Santana?”

“Kurt, what happened last night? Who bailed you out, how did you get home?”

“Um...Well. Blaine.”

“Oh. Oh no, he was there? Oh, I’m so sorry, Kurt.”

“It’s--it’s quite alright. I think. I’m not really sure I’ve fully accepted that last night actually happened yet.”

“Well, alright. I’ll leave you to it then. Call me if you need anything?”

“Of course. Thanks for everything, Rachel.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” he said, and then hung up.

He tried going back to sleep, but the events of last night filled his mind, and that wasn’t an option anymore. One little detail, which hadn’t even crossed his mind yesterday, popped into his head, and he got out of bed with a gasp.

He dressed quickly, but meticulously. Then he went to the nearest ATM, withdrew the maximum amount of money he could, and headed for the subway.

Standing in front of Blaine’s apartment building’s door for the first time in six months was strange. He really, really hoped Blaine was at work.

Reluctantly, he used his keys to enter. He went up the stairs--six months later, the elevator was still broken--to apartment 6B. He took a steadying breath and went in.

Blaine’s scent hit him head on and he felt a prickling in his eyes. It was quiet. Blaine must be at work. Kurt felt relief wash over him. He stepped fully into the apartment and closed the door behind him.

He thought about just putting the money on the coffee table and leaving, but that would be too weird, and Blaine would probably be seriously confused. He headed to the kitchen and grabbed a pen and a post-it note.

He went back to the living room and sat on the couch. He placed the money on the coffee table and picked up the pen.

Blaine,

Thanks for everything. I think that’s the correct amount from what I remember of the paperwork. Let me know if it isn’t. I’m gonna leave the key under the doormat once I lock the door.

He dithered over whether or not to write the next bit, but he couldn’t not.

Love, Kurt.

He placed the pen on the post-it and sat back on the couch, willing the tears away. He looked around the room, taking everything in. He let his fingers wander over the litany of shirts on the couch. He bit his lip, and slowly brought one up to his face, breathing in deeply. He couldn’t hold back the tears this time.

“Kurt?” came Blaine’s voice from behind him.

Kurt scrambled to wipe his tears away, and let the shirt slip from his fingers.

“Um…” Kurt trailed off and cleared his throat.

“What… what are you doing here?”

“I… I, uh.”

Blaine comes closer, and sees the money and the note. His face hardens.

“I just, um. Needed to pay you back. I’m sorry, I thought you were at work. I’ll leave now.” he says and stands up, facing resolutely away from Blaine.

“Really, Kurt? Really?” he sounds betrayed. Kurt winces. “I don’t need your money.”

“Blaine, just. I know you don’t need it, but it wouldn’t be right, okay?”

Blaine didn’t respond, and Kurt really didn’t have anything else to say, so they stayed in silence. Blaine watching Kurt, Kurt watching the door.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

He sounded hurt, and fresh tears came to Kurt’s eyes. The question made him want to turn and face him, but he knew that one glance at the hurt expression Blaine was no doubt sporting right now would be the end of him.

“I--Blaine, I can’t.”

He moved towards the door. Blaine didn’t stop him. More tears came. He stopped with his hand on the door handle. Gulping, he took Blaine’s keys out of his pocket and slowly laid them on the little table next to the door. His breathing was ragged, but he didn’t know how to control it.

He opened the door and left.

He rushed down the stairs and out of the building, and took a moment to calm himself before heading back home. He just wanted to get into bed and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

His dream was short lived when a mere half an hour after he’d stripped off all his clothes and gotten in bed, he heard the loft door open quite violently. He jumped off the bed in alarm and drew back the partition curtain.

“ ‘Love’?” Blaine yelled. The post-it note was in his hand. “Really? ‘Love’? You can’t even look at me yet you have no problem writing ‘love’? No, Kurt, you do not get to do that to me.”

Blaine’s whole face was red, and there were tear tracks on his cheeks. But, god, he hadn’t changed at all. He was every bit as breathtaking as he was when Kurt saw him for the first time.

“You were the one that broke up with me!” Kurt defended himself, once the shock had worn off.

“No, I said we should take a break, you were the one that didn’t answer any of my calls!”

“I needed space too, you know. You weren’t the only one that needed to cool off. You called me three times in one day, and then never called again, don’t make this sound like you’ve been calling me every day and I’ve just been ignoring you!”

They stood there, both breathing heavily and staring at each other.

“Well, why didn’t you call me?” Blaine said after a while, his tone much quieter.

“How was I supposed to know you still wanted me?”

Blaine was quiet for a moment. “If you think that there will ever be a moment when I won’t want you, then you really don’t know me as well as I thought you did.”

Kurt really didn’t know what to say to that. So he said nothing. Instead, he reached forward, grabbed Blaine by the collar, and tugged.

Their kiss was as amazing as ever. Blaine’s arms wrapped around his waist, and Kurt smoothed his hands over Blaine’s shoulders. He really couldn’t help the tears that came.

Blaine pulled out of the kiss, and Kurt pushed his face against his neck, repeating like a mantra “I love you, I love you, I love you” against Blaine’s skin.

Blaine tightened his grip on Kurt’s waist. He leaned his head on Kurt’s.

“I love you, too.”

[fucking-hell-skarsgard]

Paradise - Chapter Five

A.N. - I just want to say thank you so much for the kindness and support you have given me. It has really encouraged me to carry on writing. For all your support I thought I would give you an extra chapter as a gift. Don’t worry there still will be another chapter on Friday. WARNING this chapter contains SMUT there is slight DOMINANCE.

September 24th, 2016 - Westminster, London

Bill P.O.V.

~~~~~~~~~~

I froze, I never thought Eva would tell people about me. “I guess so.”

I shook his hand and Tom 

Tom smiled, “She never shuts up about you.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Of course. She thinks the world of you.”

I didn’t realise Eva thought so much of me. Two women came in with another drink for everyone. One of them placed a bottle of Jameson in front of Tom and me. She smiled and took away my empty beer glass. Tom topped up the whiskey in my glass and poured himself a generous glass. Two staff members had folded back the screens of the VIP area so we had a clear view of the stage, one of them said the show would start in five minutes.Eva had disappeared only a short while ago. Tom and I chatted about movies and my dad until the lights had dimmed.

Tom leaned over towards me. “Be prepared.”

The red velvet curtains slid open and the lights illuminated the stage. There were men and women sitting at tables around the edge of the stage. The men were in old style top hat and tails, the women were dressed as vintage can-can dancers. Leo came on from the wings, he was now wearing a ringmasters costume.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming tonight. Before we begin I would like to inform you the role of Satine will be played by our many beautiful ladies throughout the night. Now madams and monsieurs I welcome you to the Moulin Rouge. I beg you to put your hands together for our sparkling diamond, Miss Eva de Wolfe!” He bowed off the stage.

The stage lights dimmed and a woman on a hoop descended from the ceiling. Eva was now dressed in a diamond covered corset. She looked up and around the room. Her eyes locked with mine and she began to sing.

Let’s just say that if anyone has seen that clip from the 2001 moulin rouge movie. It wasn’t much different, a little more sexy and sordid with a heck more stripping than the original. Eva was amazing, twirling around the stage singing. She looked like a dominatrix angel teasing the male dancers on stage. I hadn’t ever heard her sing like this. The only time I heard her sing was tipsy at karaoke or in the shower along to her phone. The performance came to an end and the people on stage gave a bow. The curtains closed.

Tom leaned over to me, “So what did you think?”

“Uhh...”

Tom refilled my glass and pressed it into my hands.

“Drink, she’ll be back in a minute.”

True to his word five minutes later she appeared back in our area, now dressed back in the clothes she came in. She stood with her hands behind her back smiling shyly at everyone. The girls clapped and cheered. She did a little curtsy and came towards me. I could tell she was flushed even through her makeup, I stood as she got closer. I didn’t care about anyone else or what I was about to do. In front of all her friends, I placed my hand in her hair and kissed her. To my surprise she didn’t pull back, instead, she wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed herself to me. The girls all cheered and I heard someone wolf whistle. We pulled back and I rested my forehead against hers.

“What you said before about me thinking badly of you. I would never feel that way. You were beautiful.” 

She beamed and hugged me. Eva slid into my seat next to Tom and kissed his cheek. She hadn’t got the chance to say hello earlier. I sat down in the chair next to her and I poured her a glass of whiskey from the bottle. Eva linked her fingers through mine. 

There was a 10-minute interval between each performance, there were 5 in total. Eva told me that they had all voted on the five. In the interval, the lights were turned up slightly so it was safe to move around. People ordered more drinks, chatted and used the bathroom. Eva, Tom and I chatted about work and movies, upcoming projects. The whole time Eva didn’t let go of my hand. After the finale, the lights were turned up again. Some people thanked Leo and made their way out, others stayed and enjoyed more drinks. I looked at Eva how was half asleep in her chair. I squeezed her hand and she woke up a little.

“Let’s get you home.”

She nodded, she leaned over to Tom and told him we were leaving. She went to say goodbye to the girls, while I gathered our belongings. Tom appeared beside me. He stood quietly for a second before turning to face me.

“Bill. You need to choose sooner or later. She deserves that much from you.”

I didn’t understand what he was talking about. “What?”

��She tells me things about the two of you. About your girlfriend. She was upset when you told her. I know you’ll take care of her no matter what. But you need to choose; one or the other. You can't have both of them. Just so you know you are the only person she has ever loved, don't fuck it up.”

He patted me on the back. Eva came over and said goodbye to Tom. It wasn't long and we were in the uber home. Eva stared sleepily out of the window, I just couldn't shut my head off. Tom's words echoed in the back of my head. Seeing all those men watching her dance around the stage in her underwear awoke something in me. I wanted her I knew that much. I wanted to keep her all to myself. I didn't know where this was coming from I've never been a jealous person. 

We pulled up outside her place and took the lift up. She didn't bother taking her shoes or jacket off, she just wandered into the kitchen absent-mindedly. I followed behind her like some sort of predator stalking its prey. She had flung her jacket on the side and was humming to herself. She had filled the kettle and was getting cups down. She turned and upon seeing me jumped.

“God Bill you frightened me.” She focused on my face. “what's wrong?”

“I want you. Right now.”

“Bill… what's got into you.”

I could feel the pressure building. “Take your clothes off. Now.”

Eva smirked, knowing full well what was going on. She put down the cups and did as I asked. Under her top, she was wearing a corset, a proper lace up one. She had clips on the corset holding up her stocking and the tiniest pair of panties over the top. She went to take her heels off.

“No not them.”

She moved closer to me we were inches apart. Before she could react I had bent her over the kitchen counter. With one hand on her back I held her down, with the other hand I removed her underwear. They were over her stockings, she knew this would happen and she was prepared for it.

I bent over her pressing my crotch to her rear. I whispered into her ear, “If you move I will punish you. Understand?”

Eva just nodded. I removed my clothes and chucked them anywhere. I traced my hand down Eva's back, making her shiver. I felt how wet she was already, she was loving every minute. I stood behind her.

“Eva do you want me to do this?”

She turns her upper body to look at me. Her pupils were blown and she was flushed too. “Fuck me. Please.”

I pressed her back into the marble while I lined myself up. I pushed into her all at once. Eva gasped and bucked against me. I ran my hands over her back and shapely hips. I got a good grip by her hip bones, I slowly slid most of the way out before pushing back in again. 

Eva's legs twitched. “Jesus Christ stops teasing me and fucking get on with it.”

I took one hand off her hip and smacked her backside. She let out a moan. With her smart mouth, she was really in for it this time. I began thrusting and steadily picked up speed. Eva was making a great deal of noise, she was enjoying this. I slid my hand round off her hip to between her legs, I found her bundle of nerves. If she wanted to tease and be naughty then two could play her game. 

She started moaning louder, her back arching off the side. I started to thrust harder knowing it wouldn't take her long to cum. 

She grabbed onto my hand between her legs. “Please don't stop.”

I took my hand away and slapped her rear again. “For that, you can do it.”

She slid a hand down between her legs “Yes sir.”

I slapped her backside again, this time she clenched around me. I nearly lost it right there. “Oh, you're in for it now.”

I grabbed her hips with both hands and started thrusting harder than before. Eva was getting tighter and her legs were twitching, both signs she was getting close. I didn't let up until she let out a scream. Her thighs were shaking and she was clenching around me. I slowed my pace down letting her ride out her orgasm.

I pulled out and she gave one final twitch. Before I could see if she was alright she started begging. 

“Please don't stop. Please baby.”

Well, I couldn't say no. I started slower this time building my pace. Her wetness was starting to run down her legs. After being aroused most of the evening I couldn't last much longer. 

I bent over her and whispered in her ear, “You have two minutes to cum before I do.”

She happily moaned and her hand went back down to her clit. She always loved a challenge. When she started getting tight again I slammed her into the bench and fucked her as hard as I could. This time when she clenched around me, she couldn't even make a sound. Her body was rigid and her legs twitched like she was possessed. Feeling her orgasm around me started my own. Every time I thrust deep in her, she let out a little moan. I stilled within her and rested above her. I pressed kisses against her back and shoulders as she rode out her the rest of her high. Both of us were covered in a sheen of sweat. 

“Are you okay babe?”

I don't think she could even talk. She just nodded and groaned. I gently eased out of her, she twitched one last time at the friction. I leant onto the countertop beside her waiting for her to calm down. The cool marble was nice against my burning skin.

After we caught our breaths I knelt and helped Eva take off her heels. I stood and picked her up bridal style and carried her into the bedroom. Ragnar was snoring away in what was my bed. I lay her down on the edge of the bed. She didn't move, just lay there panting slightly. 

I knelt beside her. “Eva are you alright?”

She didn't speak just nodded slightly.

“What do you need?”

“Shower.” She whispered.

“Okay. I'm going to turn the shower on then come back and undress you.”

She just nodded. I turned the shower on making sure it wasn't too hot. I folded down her shower seat. I dried my hands and went back to her. She let me unhook her stockings and pulled them off. The corset was easier as it had hooks on the front. I picked her up again and took her to the shower. Carefully I placed her on her seat. The shower rained down on her back. I knelt before her 

“Are you okay. Did I hurt you?”

“No, I liked it. I'm just exhausted.”

“Okay shower, drink and bed for you then.”

She groaned, “Can't we cuddle for a while.”

I brushed the hair away from her face. “Of course we can baby.”

She smiled. “Can I have the blue bottle please.”

I grabbed a washcloth and the blue bottle. With my help, we managed to get all the makeup off her face. At one point she looked like a tired panda, I did my best not to laugh. I grabbed her shower gel and a clean cloth. While Eva was letting the warm water run down her back easing her pain. I knew she'd pay for it tomorrow. I washed her legs and arms, her back and chest. 

“Eva you need to stand.”

She took hold of the rail and with my help stood. I could see her tired legs tremble under the pressure of standing. I placed her other hand on my shoulder for extra balance.

“I'm sorry for this.”

I washed between her legs. She let a high pitched whine through gritted teeth, I could feel her nails digging into my shoulder. I was a horrible bastard, I deserved everything she would do to me. I rinsed the bubbles off her and turned the shower off. I helped her walk out of the shower and draped a towel over her shoulders. I wrapped another one around me and headed to the bedroom. At least Eva was walking even if it was with help.

I sat her the bed and tried to find some pyjamas for her. I settled on panties and one of my old t-shirts she had stolen years ago. Ragnar had woken up and was sitting at Eva's feet, Eva was scratching behind his ears. I helped her get dressed and carried her to the living room. I placed her on the sofa and wrapped a blanket over her legs.

“I'll make you a drink then I'll take Ragnar out. Okay.”

“Thank you.” She pulled me closer and kissed me.

I got dressed while the kettle was boiling. I made us both a hot chocolate and left them on the coffee table, in front of Eva. With a kiss on her head, I left her watching the TV. At 11:30 at night her road was quiet with only a few windows illuminated. After taking Ragnar for a short walk we returned home. Eva had burrowed down into the blanket and was sipping her chocolate. She had more colour in her cheeks and looked alive. I sat down and lifted her feet onto my lap. Ragnar lay on the floor next to Eva.

“How are you feeling?”

“Much better thank you. I think with the performance and with our kitchen antics I had just wiped myself out.”

“As long as you're okay now. That's all that matters.”

“I am. I'll just have to clean the kitchen bench.”

“I can do it.” I sipped my drink.

I slid my jeans off hanging them on the back of the sofa. I was quite comfy in my boxers and t-shirt. We sat there on the sofa drinking our hot chocolate at quarter to 12 on a Saturday night. Other people are age are just starting their nights out. Eva was staring blankly at the TV, her hair was escaping her bun. I reached behind her and pulled out the clip holding it up. 

Eva ran a hand through her hair, “What? Is it stuck up?”

“No. You just look beautiful like this. Hair down and curly, no makeup on. That's how I always think of you.”

Eva looked at me and frowned. Before she could say anything I had to tell her what I was thinking.

 “Eva…”

She tipped her head to one side, “Yes?”

“I've been thinking. I don’t  I want to go back to Alida.”

She sat up and put her cup down. She just stared at me. “Why?”

I swallowed the rest of my drink and put my cup with hers. “After the last couple of days, I realised something, about us. We rarely ever fight and when we do we always have the best makeup sex. It doesn’t matter how long we’re apart the fire is still there. The sex is still fantastic, we know what the other person wants. We look after each other through everything. Watching you on that stage, seeing how people looked at you. I felt possessive that's why we only just got in the door before I had to have you. I don’t think that I could be your friend and watch you someone else. I want you.”

Eva flung herself at me. Wrapping her arms around my shoulders she squeezed me tight.”Oh, Bill why didn’t you say before.”

I buried my head into her shoulder. “I didn’t realise till after I lost you the first time and now having you back… I can’t lose you again.”

Eva took my face in her hands. I had always loved her eyes. One blue and one green. They always betrayed how she was feeling on the inside. They were dull when she was sad, shining with joy and now they were sparkling with love and joy. 

She kissed me. It wasn't like all the other times we kissed. It wasn’t needing or rushed, like most of the times when we need each other. It was gentle and loving. Ragnar howling broke us apart.

“He’s never done that before.”

Eva giggled, “He’s happy. He’s doing his dancing feet.”

Bill patted the sofa and he jumped up. “Do you approve bud?”

He howled again. 

Eva tipped her head back and laughed. “He approves. You're set for life.”

“I'm glad he likes me.”

“Likes you! He loves you to bits, you're one of his favourite humans.”

I nuzzle into her neck. “You're one of my favourite humans.”

Eva yawned. “Bill… Can we go to bed and cuddle.”

I pecked her on the lips. “Okay. You go ahead I'll grab the stuff in the kitchen.”

Eva and Ragnar headed to the bedroom. I took our cups and left them in the sink. I grabbed 2 bottles of water, we both would need them; me because of the alcohol,  Eva because of the dancing and sex. I cleaned up our clothing off the floor and took them with me to Eva's room. She had created a pile of our clothes on a chair, I added the rest to it. Eva was already in bed in her usual place on the left side. Ragnar was on his large cushion at the foot of the bed.

I gave Eva a bottle and put mine on the bedside table. I climbed into bed beside her and we settled into our normal cuddling position. I was on my back and Eva was laying on my chest.

“This complicates things so much more.”

I brushed her hair back. “We’ll get things sorted Evie. Just not tonight.”

She turned to look up at me, resting her chin on my sternum. “No, not tonight.”

Her odd eyes studied my face. She swung her leg over and straddled my hips. She traced her fingers over my chest. I sat up and wrapped my arms around her waist, our faces were millimetres apart.

She put a hand on my face and whispered. “Bill I… I want you to make love to me.”

She had never asked that of me before. My boxers came off and Eva was soon naked as well. She climbed back on me, this time I could feel her wetness against me. I didn’t take me long to get hard again. With her it never took my long at all, just seeing her half naked was enough to do it sometimes. I grabbed around her waist and flipped the two of us over. With her legs hooked over my hips, I slid inside her. We had never had sex like this before, normal missionary sex never ever happened. When we did have missionary, it was either rough, a quickie or someone was even tied up. Even when Eva was having a bad pain day and was too sore to do anything too fancy, we never reverted to it.

Eva pulled me closer so we were almost touching. Every time I moved I could feel her pierced nibbles just graze my chest. She was panting her hips thrusting to meet mine. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me closer. I placed kisses along her neck and jaw. I could her breathing hitch, it wasn’t like it did when she was about to cum. I pulled back and stilled inside her.

She had tears in her eyes and a few had already escaped and cascaded down her face. I wiped their trails away.

“Eva. What’s wrong.”

“It’s just...” she took a shaking breath. “I love you.”

Relief flooded through me. “You don’t know how many times I have dreamed of you saying that to me.”

I leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “And I love you.”

A.N. - Sorry that this chapter is shorter than the others, this just felt like the right place to end things. The next chapter will hopefully be the normal length.

[maybeapizzatrophy]

Thoughts on beauty and the beast 2017

-Audra McDonald is boss, but that song is weird.

-prince Dan is super sassy.

-prince Dan does not deal in a plant based economy. 

- Honestly, I feel bad for anyone who just got a job there. I filled out my w2s, excited for new life adventure annnd now I’m a rug. Thanks Potts for recommending me.

*song Belle*

- ohhhhhhhh, emma can’t sing. Hopefully that won’t be too distracting.

-belle is mean 

-are those boys checking her out?is that lady checking her out?

-Damn LeFou! Mark your territory.

-so I guess in disney if you really think people are talking about you behind your back, they are not. They are singing about you behind your back.

-wow gaston gets distracted quick. Have fun with the ladies. Don’t get syphilis!

-ooo, belle asking her dad for a rose just like in the original story.

-Belle: I invented a washing machine to make your lives easier! 

               Towns people: witch!!!

-Gaston, are you trying to guilt her for not having a baby? What are you her judgy aunt Edna, wondering why her sister’s not a grandmother?

- uggh the singing. why didn’t they just dub over her?

-Maurice in the woods. Just snow….in June. Perfectly safe. Totally normal.

- Phillip, the baller horse, saves his life,. MAURICE repays him by leaving him outside to be killed by elements and wolves. No stables huh?

- Pro Tip! When wandering into someones house, don’t eat their food. This might happen!

- Maurice, run for your life, but there is always time to smell the roses.

-Beast smelling Maurice’s blood. Is the beast a vampire? That would explain the capes. And fangs.

- Yell at that horse, belle! Get a straight answer! POS Phillip. 

- God does Lumiere hit on everyone that comes into that house? Maybe that is why the Beast has crappy housekeeping.Wonder which object is his lawyer?

-Maurice “how did you find me?” that is a legit question, Belle.

-she’s either Sherlock Holmes or can talk to animals. Maybe that’s why she calls chicken “little people.”

-Prince Dan has changed his mind about a plant based economy. Flower for a life. Sounds fair.

-Beast: you’re a fool. True looove?? At this point he’s gotten more action with her dad.

- Lumiere is giving belle a new room. belle has a vagina so that means you get nicer commodities. Also they don’t want another poor yelp rating. 

-is Lumiere hitting on her again ? “ oh you are very strong. this is a grreat quality." 

- is he priming her up so she won’t get crushed by the beast when they have sexy time later?

-# beast in the sheets

-"why should I be startled, I’m talking to a candle.” lols. OK, you got me movie.

- “whats in the west wing? Monologuing.” 

- the East wing, or as I like to call it, the ONLY wing!

 -does Lumiere know the definition of modest?

-Lumiere! Not in front of the kids! Keep it in your pants, if you want a PG rating.

-Belle talking to a brush. She may need some therapy after this.

- did the wardrobe just fall asleep? Does the humanoid objects need sleep?

- Lefou has got it bad.

-spelling is hard. Poor baby.

- uh oh. Maurice is raving again.

-when prince dan enters the room, he makes an entrance.

- Prince Dan does not like hanging with the common folk. Ewww. She better not touch his cloak and make it dirty. Her father is a nobody!  (seriously maybe he should have kept Maurice around)

#Always warm in Beasts bed

-Lumiere: show me the smile!

-I’m so sorry I lost my train of thought.

-Prince Dan does not think mental health should be a laughing matter. You should not call people crazy. He gets Bimonthly visits from his therapist couch.

-Go starve! Be my guest! And don’t even THINK about having an elaborate song and dance number with all my staff based on this same title! (runs off to the west wing and can’t hear fireworks due to another great speech by President Bartlett)

-*petal falls, castle shakes* flower based economies can not save your crumbling infrastructure! 

-*belle is trying to escape* so she’s an active heroine because she’s trying to run away? Lets be honest, I don’t think this movie could pass the bechdel test

-Lumiere: they are fighting, oooh so hey must be in love. Umm does Lumiere have a problem?

*Be our Guest*

- yay you’re hungry, so your food will dance in front of you but you can’t eat any of it. seriously he gives her food and then takes away her fork.

-Side Note: I used to have the biggest crush on Ewan Mcgregor when I saw Moulin Rouge in High School. His singing can make me feel so many things. 

However, singing in a fake french accent is just making me cringe.

- Mrs. Potts: you can change him! Great advice. that totally works. 

Belle wanders into beasts bedroom and is surprised he's upset. Actually think he's in the right here.

-Hey wolves, you don’t mess with Phillip!

-What are the wolves waiting for? The music to become more dramatic?

-Its a motherfucking growl off

-Yep Maurice doesn't know where he's going. So Belle is definitely Sherlock or talks to animals.

Newsflash. In breaking news, Gaston is dick.

Belle and Beast arguing over her being in the west wing: You shouldn't have been in the west wing. DUDE. You're in the west wing now.

ANOTHER NEWS BULLET. This just in- Beast isn't cruel, hes a brat

-Audra McDonald has the voice of an angel.

-WAIT A SECOND. WHAT the hell is this curse?! The prince gets stuck as a monster and everyone else DIES. Or stops existing. Boo freaking hoo, this prince has had a hard life but that doesn’t mean you have to die for him! where is the loophole. Agatha is a bitch to servants.

-Oh girl! Beast knows Romeo and Juliet. And he is mocking her. What is he going to quote his favorite Shakespeare Titus Andronicus? Or Fall out Boy?

Oh nice library.(Bitches love libraries.)

The ice is thawing. SYMBOLISM! 

Ughgh the autotune.

So she's not “glancing at you,” shes staring at your hairy ass. She’s wondering if the rumors are true.

Lumiere please don't light the library on fire! its the only reason Belle is staying there. 

LOL. when Mrs. Potts says chip it sounds like shit.

The pep talk for the beast took a weird turn.

Like how they brought back the organ/harpsichord from the crap sequel.Tim Curry!

-Prince Dan: Do you love it here? How much time has past, a week? you can’t leave! do you love me yet? 

-Ok I know he has to let her go so she can save her dad but he's condemning all of his people to death. I’m pretty sure if someone explained this loophole to her she would give a shit.

Oh, beast wants to love and be loved in return.

Damn Dan can sing

Ok belle put the phone down. Gaston thinks he can be a politician

Gaston is sounding horribly familiar. That beast is a bad hombre.

LeFou- Wrong “monster" is released. ehhem. 

Wow they fortified quickly. Maybe one of the servants was a former military general.

Oh I think its the coat rack.

Reading is fundimental! Illiteracy kills!

Man, Lefou is fickle. Guess he’s  good guy now because he has a conscience and only tried to kill Maurice...for love.

Gaston, never look up your exs new boyfriends on facebook. You are only going to depress yourself.

The power of love will save you!

What is that, like the third time gaston shot prince dan in the back?

You came back? Oh course. You have a great library. And those rumors better be true.

Ok i am actually sad about the dog and chip, and Mrs. Potts.

Good job general coat rack. You were amazing. *getting emotional*

Belle loves the beast but has to say it in front of Agatha. Otherwise doesn't count.

Prince Dan is human again. Now change him back! He was hotter before.

Ugggh ewan in a french wig is not attractive. Nope can’t unsee that. and now neither can you. bleh

Who tells their 6 year old they smell good? Like really?

Mr. Potts story is ridiculously sad. He always knew he was missing something, and that something was not right in his life. Turns out his family was taken away from him and he was forced to forget about them but never really could. Fuck you Agatha.

Oh and cogsworth had a wife? But he hates her? weird tonal change...

Yep, Dirty Dan get a beard. He looks fine with a beard

And lefou hooks up with a cross dresser. All well that ends well?l

Moral of the story, invest in something other then plants. Diversify your stock portfolio..

[deansdirtylittlesecretsblog]

Mimi’s RomCom Fluff Challenge

I just reached 16,000 followers! Yay! 

I have decided to host another writing challenge to celebrate.

I love me a good romantic comedy (aka the romcom). Love them. I also love some good fluff fics, the fluffier the better. I decided to combine the two and the end result is Mimi’s RomCom Fluff Challenge!

Below, you will find a list of some of my favorite romantic comedies, along with quotes from those movies. Your challenge, should you accept it, is to write a fluffy fic including the quote from the movie.

The Rules and Regulations:

Female reader inserts with Sam, Dean, or John Winchester only. No ships (no hate meant, it’s just easier this way).

Your fic can be as many words as you want; I do ask that you please try to make it at least 500 words. Please add a “keep reading” for fics over 500 words. If it doesn’t have a “keep reading” I will not reblog it.

Please make it a one shot or the first part of a series. AU’s are also okay.

Please tag me, @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog and use the hashtag #mimi’s romcom fluff challenge. Make sure the hashtag is in the first 5 tags. If I don’t like it within in 48 hours, I didn’t see it. If that happens, please send me a message.

Please mention somewhere in your author’s notes that it is for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog RomCom Fluff Challenge and which prompt you had.

The most important rule, it MUST contain fluff. No angst (side-eyes a couple of my writer friends - you know who you are). I want the fluff. It can have smut, but it doesn’t have to. But, there must be fluff.

How to sign up:

Send me an ASK. Not a reply, reblog or IM, it needs to be an ask. Also, don’t send it on anon, I need to know who is participating. If it’s from your side blog, please mention the name of your side blog.

In the ask please tell me:

The number you want and whether you will be writing Sam, Dean or John Winchester. Please send at least one alternative in case your first choice is taken.

If you are writing from your sideblog, please give me the name of the blog.

One prompt per writer (for now).

Fics are due by Saturday, September 2nd. That is about two and a half months. If you can’t make the due date, send me a message to ask for an extension. I won’t be mad or upset. Life happens, I get it. I do ask that if you sign up and can’t finish the fic for whatever reason, please let me know. I may be able to find someone who would like to take your place.

Movies and quotes are below the cut:

10 Things I Hate About You 1.  What is it with this chick? She got beer-flavored nipples? 2.  Don’t let anyone ever make you feel like you don’t deserve what you want.

13 Going on 30: 3.  I don't wanna be beautiful in my own way. I wanna look like these people! 4.  We need to remember what used to be good. If we don't, we won't recognize it even if it hits us between the eyes.

America’s Sweethearts 5.  Love is a bridge built between two people. We want what exists between them to be real. 6.  Except for the part about my penis. That's true. It's bigger than coins. 7.  How can you be in love with someone and not even like them at the same time? 8.  Your pillow's better than mine.   9.  He's a dead man. No, I'm serious. I know a guy, I'll make a call, and... he's dead. 

A Walk to Remember 10.  You have to promise not to fall in love with me. 11.   What's there to talk about? She's the best person I've ever known. 12.  I'm trying here, OK? Maybe... maybe I miss spending time with you. Maybe you inspire me. 13.  I'm scared of not being with you. 

Breakfast at Tiffany’s 14.  A girl can't read that sort of thing without her lipstick. 15.  Anyone who ever gave you confidence, you owe them a lot. 16.  You could always tell what kind of a person a man thinks you are by the earrings he gives you. I must say, the mind reels. 17.  I'll never get used to anything. Anybody that does, they might as well be dead.

Clueless 18.  Anything happens to my daughter, I got a .45 and a shovel, I doubt anybody would miss you. 19.  Anything you can do to draw attention to your mouth is good. 20.  If I'm too good for him, then how come I'm not with him? 21.  So, this flannel thing. Is that a nod to the crispy Seattle weather, or are you just trying to stay warm in front of the refrigerator?

Crazy, Stupid Love 22.  Will you take off your shirt... fuck! Seriously? It's like you're Photoshopped!  23.  I will never stop trying. Because when you find the one... you never give up. 24.  I'm wildly unhappy, and I'm trying to buy it, and it's not working.

Ever After 25.  She came to tell you the truth, and you fed her to the wolves! 26.  You have found my weakness but I have yet to learn yours. 27.  Besides, you claimed it was a matter of life and death. 28.  Are you putting me under house arrest? 

Failure to Launch 29.  And believe me, I did not want that because I had a good life before you. Well, not good... but... it was okay. Well, it... it was empty, actually, but at least I was blissfully unaware of how miserable I was. Whereas now... because of you... I am acutely aware of how completely and totally unhappy I am. Thank you for that. 30.  Guys who drink Kahlua and cream are not power guys, honey. 31.  Actually, it's... it's quite simple. You just have to decide. Do you want to spend the rest of your life having fun or do you want to spend it with me? 32.  Nothing like the threat of decapitation to make it a little more interesting. 

Friends with Benefits 33.  Why do women think the only way to get a man to do what they want, is to manipulate them? 34.  If you tell anyone about this, I will rip your ears off and staple them to your neck. 35.  It’s not you. Nothing is wrong with you. He’s a guy. You gave him a five date challenge, he got you and cut out. Forget the douche! He’s a dick. He’s a dick douche. 

Hope Floats 36.  Childhood is what you spend the rest of your life trying to overcome. 37.  Oh, I like all of God's creatures; I just like some of them better stuffed. And he's one of them. 38. Why does everybody keep asking me if I've been drinking? What? Is there like a coaster stuck to my... butt or something? 39.  People fall in love. They fall right back out. It happens all the time. 40.  I would have stayed with you forever. I would have turned myself inside out for you. 

How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days 41. You can't lose something you never had. 42.  Guys, a woman's purse, alright, it's her secret source of power. Alright? There are many dark and dangerous things in there, that we, the male species, should know nothing about. 43.  You see, the key to this game is being able to read people. 44.  Look, just give me back the necklace, then you guys can go on and kill each other. 45. Drunk and tone-deaf. Never a good combination. 

Leap Year 46.  Why don't you stop trying to control everything in the known universe. It's dinner. Have a little faith that it will all work out. 47.  Well, when my 60 seconds came around, I realized I had everything I ever wanted, but nothing I really needed. And I think that what I need is here. And I came all this way to see if maybe you might think so too. 

Moulin Rouge 48.  The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return. 49.  He's got a huge... talent. 50.  You're going to be bad for business. I can tell. 51.  It's not that I'm not a jealous man. I just don't like other people touching my things.

Never Been Kissed 52.  That thing, that moment, when you kiss someone and everything around becomes hazy and the only thing in focus is you and this person and you realize that that person is the only person that you're supposed to kiss for the rest of your life, and for one moment you get this amazing gift and you want to laugh and you want to cry because you feel so lucky that you found it and so scared that that it will go away all at the same time. 53.  The right guy, he's out there. I'm just not gonna go kiss a whole bunch of losers to get to him. 

Notting Hill 54.  I'm also just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her. 55.  It's as if I've taken love heroin, and now I can't ever have it again. 56.  I don't know. It just got to the point where I couldn't remember any of the reasons why we were together. 57.  Oh God, this is one of those key moments in life, when it's possible you can be really, genuinely cool - and I'm failing 100%. 58.  Right, no one. I mean, I'll tell myself sometimes but - don't worry - I won't believe it.

Say Anything 59.  She gave me a pen.  I gave her my heart, she gave me a pen. 60.  The world is full of guys. Be a man. Don’t be a guy.  61.  One question: are you here because you need someone, or you need me? Forget it, I don’t care. 62.  So I’m single now, and everything’s changed. I hate it. 

Sixteen Candles 63.  I can't believe this. They fucking forgot my birthday. 64.  Would you guys please hurry up, I'm breaking like 30 major laws here. 65.  When you don't have anything, you don't have anything to lose. Right? 

Someone Like You 66.  There are few things sadder in this life than watching someone walk away after they've left you, watching the distance between your bodies expand until there's nothing... but empty space and silence. 67.  Wow, there's the cynical bitch we know and love. 68.  This is key to understanding the myth of male shyness. For while you think he is flattering you, he is actually flattering himself. Showing how open and honest and sensitive he is. 

Sweet Home Alabama 69.  I can't control her any more than I can control the weather. 70.  So I can kiss you anytime I want. 71.  The girl I knew used to be fearless. 

The Notebook 72.  I want all of you, forever, everyday. You and me...everyday. 73.  Stay with you? What for? Look at us, we're already fightin'. 

The Princess Bride 74.  Have fun stormin’ the castle. 75.  There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to damage yours. 76.  No more rhymes now, I mean it! 77.  You keep using that word, I don't think you know what it means. 78.  That does put a damper on our relationship. 

This Means War 79.  Don't worry. If you're going to hell, I'll just come pick you up. 80.  Don't choose the better man, choose the man who makes you a better woman.

When Harry Met Sally 81.  I'll have what she's having. 82.  No one has ever quoted me back to me before. 

When in Rome 83.  This real enough for you? 84.  The whole point of love is to put someone else's needs above your own. 85.  Now, you could get your heart broken or you could have the greatest love affair the world has ever known, but you're not going to know unless you try. 

While You Were Sleeping 86.  $45 for a Christmas tree and they don't deliver? You order $10 worth of chow mein from Mr. Wong´s, they bring it to your door. 87.  Ugh! I don't want any flowers, I'm not wearing my black underwear and I definitely don't want to move in with you! 

You’ve Got Mail 88.  But the truth is, I'm heart broken. 89.  You were spying on me, weren't you?

[noldorianprincess]

I feel the need to post this here. I think it’s for the reassurance that I have done something correct and for the betterment of myself for once? Can someone please tell me that what I’ve done is what needed to be done because I can’t handle the anxiety that is built up in me due to the fact I was friends with this person for almost half my current life and that I just feel like complete and utter shit that I finally had to say goodbye.

Dear ex-best friend, Today I write this, not out of spite or out of jealousy or anything like that. I write this because you're no longer in my life, by your choice and mine. Today marks the day where, even though you don't know it, I see all that you do, through my friends and family, and I don't care anymore. You're just another person who I once called friend, and can no longer call to say 'hello, my sunshine, my sister, my bestest of friends, my Andromeda Knight." No longer do we sit and burn incense or watch Johnny Depp murder the cast of Harry Potter. No longer do we giggle and ride a tube downstream at Splash Island. No longer do I hear that ridiculous giggle of yours as I make a stupid joke or open up a tub of ice cream to find a perfect butt shape left inside. I don't get to walk with you in your Buddha shoes to go get printer paper because we want to draw and write and create to our heart's content. 

And for once, this is a friendship lost that cannot be blamed on me. I tried to keep in contact. I tried to invite you over after we fought over stupid things. You were a friend that I thought I could run to for everything. But after you let a boy rip us apart after so many times warning you to stay away from him, I gave up. On us. On you. On everything we ever had between us. I stopped looking at the stars for years because that was your favorite thing. I stopped enjoying Enya and Florence and the Machine, I stopped enjoying Moulin Rouge. I can't watch Spawn without thinking of those endless days at your Dad and StepMonster's house. I can't look at old pictures of us and being hobos in walmart and eating our Sonic on a hot summer day. I can't look at a boxer the same way. Going hiking just isn't the same anymore. I see people rollerblading and I think of you and what you liked to do.

Dear ex-best friend;

I saw what you said, and I realize how flouted our friendship was if you had to hide something like that from me, and then didn't even have the courage to tell me yourself when you finally did act upon those feelings. But, I see you now, and I know that I'm glad you're happy and I'm glad that you're the best person you seem to be. I'm glad that you think you've found the love of your life and you think that you'll be with him forever. I hope that you know how happy Jaws makes him. I hope you love the little quotes and things he says when he watches Scrubs. When he gives you a song, or posts one on Facebook, listen to it over and over again. Memorize it till your very mind sings it over and over and you don't even realize it. Cuddle often, but not too much. When he talks to you about music or instruments or anything like that, watch the way his eyes sparkle. It's his one and only passion. When he shows you how the instruments and tools work, pay attention. When he catches you recording him, look for that little grin he does, you won't see it often. Go to the arcade and kick his ass at the coin launch; it will drive him crazy. Talk hockey and Disney with his mom; talk geek and video games with his sister. Chicken Fried Rice is his favorite take out food when nothing else sounds good.These were the little things I learned, though how insignificant to most they may seem, are the things I still remember after he walk out of my life what will be an entire year in three hours and 52 minutes. 

And, if he reads this, I hope he knows just as much as I do. The way you love listening to all styles of music; from oldies like Andrews Sisters to hard alternative like The Temple Is Me. I hope he learns that you love your hands massaged, and hopefully he teases you with your weird foot fear. I hope he learns that you fluctuate with everything; your hair, your design, your fashion, and your weird tastes in foods. But, no matter what, you will always love birds, the stars, video games, and Marilyn Monroe. I hope he learns that you love to sing high pitch and annoy anyone who tells you to stop. I hope he learns that once you put your mind to something, it doesn't stop until it's happened. I hope he realizes your attitude can get you and trouble, but sitting down and talking will solve everything. I hope he tries to match pitch or try to sing together and have nothing but your voices, his low and yours high. I hope he realizes how competitive you are when it comes to PvP games. I hope he realizes that sometimes you can't find what you feel comfortable in, so it takes you a while to find an outfit. And, I hope that he will learn to handle your crazy, and I mean that in the best of ways. 

No, I'm not obsessed, for obsession is to preoccupy or fill the mind of (someone) continually, intrusively, and to a troubling extent. You do not preoccupy my mind for an extensive amount of time. When you pop into my mind, it is so insignificant that I think about it, brood over it for a second flat, and then move on because I have better things to do with my life.  

Dear ex-best friend;

I was way beyond upset with the fact I had to learn through my parents, who wanted to hide this from me to spare my feelings, that my at-the-time-best-friend would do this to me. But, now, you are just as insignificant as those thoughts that are just a momentary lapse of my every day life that has become so much better without you in it. No longer do I worry about if you're going to be with some jerk from a different state who threatens you and treats you like crap. He may be an asshole some days, but those days are just days. Like every day, they get better. So, good luck in your future, because even though you are my ex-best friend, I wish you no harm or unhappiness. I wish you find your dream job, I wish you both happiness, which I could provide for neither of you, in friendship or in love, and hope that life treats you well.

Dear ex-best friend;

 I hope it is all worth it, I hope that it is worth all of the effort, memories, and happiness we put into everything since I met you that day in Biology when we were talking over Full Metal Alchemist and Bleach. I hope that it was worth the story time, the nights under the stars, the week-long sleep overs. You were 'my person'. I hope, that through all of this, it was worth losing me. 

Do not reach out to me.  Do not try to contact me, by yourself or through our mutual friends.

How lucky I am to have known someone who was so hard to say goodbye to. And to you, my ex-best friend, This is goodbye.