#rip also permanent hiatus

[weirdgirlvampire]

name a better travel song, you can’t

[pewpewkachuuboo]

nowhere to go, nowhere to be

exoverlord!fem!reader x Lucifer

So you were an overlord that sold your soul to Alastor to save your twin brother? You’re an eternal slave who is forced back into hell after a hiatus to help Alastor…. run a hotel? Why is the King of Hell here?

—

I’m so sleepy- have a chapter piece. But chapter one is long because backstory *jazz hands *

I’ve never written a reader-centric fic before so bare with me during my learning curve LOL I’ve been reading a lot of them, but I’m trying to avoid the use of (y/n) because my dumbass brain always reads it as “yes no” and it takes me out of the narrative lmao

Decided to make the title after the Kenny Chesney song because it’s about those small pockets of time between reality where you feel free from recognizing that you have no control over what’s happening in your life that keep you from spiraling, and I think that fits the mood I’m going for.

Warnings: language, death, suicide, gore, mention of sexual assault

—

Chapter One: Wake Up Call

How long had you been swimming in the darkness of your personal pocket dimension that the Radio Demon, Alastor, had forced you into after you gave him your soul?

Who knows.

It had felt like centuries.

The dimension was just blackness - there was no ground, you were just eternally floating. It was a silent, weightless, and empty existence and your eyes had never fully adjusted to the dark so any hopes of scoping surroundings had been lost in the first few hours you had been placed there.

You spent the time you had to yourself after that reflecting on what had gotten you to that point.

You and your twin brother had been sold to an underground organization by your parents - you didn’t blame them, they could barely feed the two of you let alone themselves, now they at least had the money to survive themselves while you were out of sight and out of mind.

You had been trained to cater to the fancy of men - you read, cooked, learned how to play chess, and were taught the art of seduction according to your owner’s instructions. Your brother had been trained for seduction as well, but served in the organization as a hit man. Having such a small child be able to kill a man three times his size with his bare hands was an advantage the organization could not let go of.

Men in power seem to always have a weird attraction to children, so it made sense that the two of you would often go into these situations together. You recall once being covered in blood after a particularly violent sexual encounter, and your brother ripping the man limb from limb as effortlessly as a bird taking flight. He had held you the rest of the night, but you hardly slept as it was. You appreciated the care your brother had for you, but you would have preferred he cared more about his own safety.

When the two of you had reached the age of twenty-one, your brother had suggested the two of you run away to America and start a new life. How hard could it be? You had humored him, not realizing he was serious, and he was caught planning.

Your owner held your arm and made you watch and listen as he fed your brother to his pet white tigers. Even after your own death, his screams of pain and terror are still tattooed to your brain.

You had killed yourself less than a week later by slitting your throat.

When you woke up in hell, you had taken on the appearance of a grey rag-doll, stitched at the neck and joints, stitches also at the end of your lips to give you a permanent smile. Hell made sense to you - you had participated in nearly every major sin and you were positive that no person with blood on their hands would ever make it to heaven. Which meant your brother was in the realm as well.

You had searched endlessly for him for months before you had come across the V District. It was ugly, you decided, lit up by red and blue neon lights and buildings so high you couldn’t see the red sky or pentagram moon above you. That’s when you saw a poster of a man that looked eerily like the tigers that ate your brother, holding a pink and white spider against his chest, looking at each other with half-lidded eyes.

Was that him?

Only one way to find out, you decided. And you ended up at the V Tower eventually, waiting for an opportunity to waltz into the porn studio to see him up close.

You had somehow managed to follow inconspicuously behind some of the cleanup crew, and took the opportunity to look at your surroundings. Tacky was the only thing you could think to describe the decor. But that was typical of gross men - they never seemed to have good taste.

You heard a moan that was cut off by an angry “CUT” and looked around the corner to see the man you were so sure was your brother being pulled to the ground by the fur of his neck and being ruthlessly kicked by the tall moth man that spit on him and then pointed to the hall, “Get your shit together and then come back and fuck like you mean it.”

You follow behind him and clear your throat, scaring him into spinning around at you, “Is it really you?”

You now carefully, “I think so?”

He stands up straight, “How did I die?”

You point to his appearance and sigh, “I didn’t realize I’d have to see your reason for death after having to watch it happen in person.”

His face softened and he pulled you into a tight embrace, “How are you here? You shouldn’t be here.” He swallowed and pointed to the exit, “Leave but go to the club across the street - I’ll be done soon and I’ll come find you.”

You didn’t really want to leave him after what you witnessed, but you would never not take your brother seriously when he had that terrified look on his face. So you wait.

He approaches you with a fresh black eye and random stains littering his stark white fur. You frown at his appearance and he waves his hand, “I’m fine - how…. Why are you in hell?”

“Probably same reasons as you are-“

“You know what I mean.”

You tighten your grip on your glass of water, “I, uh, killed myself.”

His face softened at the admission, “But you were so young - you could have gotten out.”

“Not without you.” You look at him firmly, “You are all I had and it wasn’t worth being alive if we weren’t alive together.”

His lips thin into a straight line as he looks at the crowd in the club before leaning forward, “Listen, I am so happy to see you, but I sold my soul to Valentino - I can’t leave the tower without his permission.”

“So I’ll sell mine, too-“

“No.” His voice was sharp and his blue eyes flashed red in anger, “Absolutely not.”

“Then how do we get yours back?”

He sighed, “Valentino would have to either break the contract himself or trade my soul with another Overlord.”

“Overlord?”

Your brother went into a brief explanation about the hierarchy of hell, and you nodded with resolve, “So I need to become an Overlord and strike a deal so I can get your soul.”

He laughed, “I wish it were that easy-“

“Wait for me. I’ll do it.” You stand, unsure of where you’re going, but knowing you have to get your shit together and save your brother like you know he would have done for you, “I don’t know how long it’ll take, but I’ll do it.”

It took nearly 60 years for you to gain enough power and souls to be a respected Overlord in Hell.

And as you had the nerve to create a deal you knew Valentino couldn’t refuse, a red demon made his way into your office casually during an extermination with a grin so wide it was unnerving.

“Can I help you?”

“Can you?”

You frown, “I don’t like playing games.”

He tutted and leaned on the cane he carried that was the same color as the rest of his appearance, “No games, darling. I’m just curious how you think you can help me when you can’t even help your brother.”

You stood, seething in anger, “The fuck are you talking about?”

He hummed in interest and snapped his fingers to show you a scene of your brother being left behind by a client when being chased by exorcists. He tried to run away, too, but he was going to get caught if you didn’t do something, “Where is he?!”

“I can tell you - for a price.” The image disappeared and his smile felt more menacing than before.

You reach out to him, “You want my fucking soul for his location? I won’t make it there in time you son of a bitch-“

His eyes narrow and he holds his cane out to keep you from coming closer, “My, my. If you use that tone with me again, I’ll give you nothing and send you what’s left of your brother once I’m done feasting on what the exorcists leave behind.”

You back up a bit, startled by the angry static his voice bites back with, “Who are you?”

“Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you! An absolute pleasure.” He held out his hand, “I will save your brother from the angels in exchange for your soul and all of the souls you currently own.”

“Keep him alive after and you have a deal.” You hold out your hand without hesitation.

Alastor hums, but grips your hand after consideration, green light surrounding the two of you. He snaps his fingers and shows you that your brother, confused, is in the confines of his room at V Tower - but he’s alive and safe. Alastor snaps his fingers again and the scene disappears, “He will not perish as long as your soul is mine.”

You scream in pain, reaching for your neck as neon green chains bind to you. He looks cheerful as he checks his nails, “Beautiful screams, darling. Would you be interested in radio?”

You can’t answer as tears fall down your face, your throat raw as you feel your power leave your body. He waits for a moment before clapping, “Oh! These souls are delicious. Thank you so much for your service. I think I’ll keep you around just in case I need someone charming to do a job for me. Would you like to say goodbye to your brother before your departure?”

You sob, but shake your head yes. With the snap of a finger, shadows engulf the two of you and deliver you to your brother’s dressing room.

He cries out your name and holds your shoulders before looking up at Alastor, “What did you do to her?!”

Alastor just looked at his claws, ears twitching, “Do hurry. I have places to be.”

You tug on the black tank top your brother wore and he looks down at you, “You’re safe now. I’m so sorry.”

“What have you done?!”

You smiled and nod, “It’s fine, I promise. You would have done it for me, too.”

Realization floods his expression, “I’ll get you out of this.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see you around.” You stand and walk shakily over to Alastor who waves his fingers in greeting.

“I’ll be seeing you if you’re in danger of death, friend. Hopefully not too soon!” He cackles as the shadows engulf you both again, and all you knew from that point on was darkness.

—

Until bright light flooded your vision. You covered your eyes in response and shrunk down, digging your knees into the back of your hands to keep the onslaught of sudden light from your eyes.

A familiar laugh fills your ears and you are on your feet in an instant, heels of your hands still digging into your eyes to avoid pain, “A-Alastor?” Your voice came out as a croak due to your lack of using it after all of these years and you slowly remove your hands, squinting until your eyes adjusted, your head pounding in pain. His red figure was the first thing you saw and you gasped in realization, “H-How long was I-?”

“Not now, dear. I’ll fill you in on all the fun goings on later. For now, welcome to your new job! Our lovely owner and Princess of Hell, Charlie Morningstar, has suggested we are in need of a Porter and Concierge! I told her I knew just the person for the job.”

You had flashbacks of intelligence training from when you were alive and swallowed, looking up at the tall woman beside Alastor who seemed to almost be sparkling. She moved forward, “Hi! I’m Charlie! This is my hotel to help rehabilitate sinners! We’ve had a lot more interest since the battle with the angels and so we need some more help and I would be THRILLED if you would help.” Her voice was sweet and almost sounded like a song.

You glance at Alastor behind her and he narrows his eyes as if to tell you to go with it or else, and so you bowed your head politely, “I’ll do my best.”

The squeal the girl let out felt like nails on a chalkboard against your ears, but she pulled you into a tight hug despite your height difference - why was everyone in hell seven feet tall and you managed to be a terrifying 5’6”? - and then held you out by your shoulders, “What’s your name? How long have you been here? Do we need to move your things into your room or did Alastor already magic it here?”

You wince, “Uh, people usually call me whatever they want…. I’ve been here a while, and I don’t really own anything.”

Charlie seemed equal parts sad and excited, “Do you not remember your name? And you really don’t own anything?”

“I, uh…” Alastor drapes an arm over your shoulder and pulls you away from Charlie’s embrace.

He looks down at you, “I think our friend is tired from travel. Maybe we should save introductions until tomorrow?”

Charlie grinned, clasping her hands together, “I’ll see you first thing in the morning to give you a tour! Thank you so much for your help!” She waves enthusiastically as Alastor pulls you along with him.

He sighs once she is out of sight, “We need to catch up, I’m afraid.” His gaze is now on you, “Why did you not give her your name?”

You swallow, “Because I was an Overlord before you put me in that black space - I don’t know what my name means around here anymore.”

He hums thoughtfully, “Smart. You are a clever thing, aren’t you?” He lets go of your shoulders and walks towards the door in front of you, “This is the door to your room. Let’s have a chat.”

You’re hesitant to follow him through the open door but blink up at the decor - it was soft monochromatic colors of grey and white, it was a color theme you had always been fond of, “I thought it would be red like the rest of the hotel.”

“Nonsense- I made the room to suit the taste of your previous office. Is it satisfactory?”

“Very.” You touch the plush blanket on the bed before glancing back to him, “Catch me up, then.”

He only gave you the details he thought you would need, but you stopped him after he was done detailing the fight with the angels, “How long was I in that place for?”

Alastor tapped his chin thoughtfully, “Does the number really matter?”

You roll your eyes assuming he was avoiding telling you, “Is my brother still okay?”

“Okay? Hardly.” He chuckled, “But he’s still alive and under the thumb of that moth if that’s what you’re asking.”

You sighed in relief and looked at your lap, “So what do I need to do exactly?”

“Your job, dear.” He grinned as you glared at him, “Porter and Concierge. You will be showing our guests to their room and helping with their things. You are also going to be taking care of the customer service of the side of my job because I detest it - that entails you making sure their basic needs are met and that you make their wants happen to the best of your ability.”

You sigh, “Am I stuck here at all times?”

“Heavens, no! You will be allowed time off as needed. But I do expect you to do your job and keep our deal quiet from the other hotel guests- you will not survive your time here if you overstep me.”

You swallow but nod in understanding, “Okay.”

“Oh! My mother was rather fond of those Raggedy Anne dolls before she passed and you-“ He held up your arm between two pinched fingers, “Look sewn up like one of them. Let’s say your name is Anne tomorrow, hmm?”

You pull your arm away and nod, “Fine.”

He stands up and motions to the bed, “Rest, dear. Charlie will have you up bright and early.”

“I’ve been resting for only you know how long. And I haven’t slept since I was alive.”

His grin widened and unseen limbs seemed to force you to lay down, “I don’t remember asking a question, Anne.” You swallow, his fingers moving to hold your throat as his eyes narrowed more sinisterly, “There will be no talking back when I’ve told you to do something. Understand?”

You nod helplessly and he lets go, already at the door when you look up, “Yes, Alastor.”

He waves and disappears into a portal of shadows and leaves you to stare up at your ceiling, wondering why the thought of death almost sounded relieving at this point.

—

Charlie practically ripped your door off of its hinges that morning. You had closed your eyes to feign sleep, but jumped straight up when your door opened.

Charlie grinned blindingly at you, “Good morning! Are you ready for a tour?”

You stand, “S-sure.”

She pauses before grabbing your hand, “Did you remember your name?”

“A-Anne.”

“Anne is such a cute name! It’s so nice to meet you! I’ll show you around and then the others are all supposed to meet us in the lobby to say hello in an hour!”

You get pulled along the height and width of the hotel, Charlie yapping on about memories and excitement for the future. She finally brought you to the grand staircase and led you down the stairs and to the lobby where Alastor was standing with a small group of people that mostly lit up when Charlie spoke and caught their attention.

She held up your hand by your wrist, “This is Anne! She’s going to be helping us.”

She looks at you and pulls you down the line, “You know Alastor, this is our bartender Husker-“ you recognize him as an Overlord and he narrows his eyes at you like he’s starting to recognize you too but only nods in greeting and drinks from a bottle of alcohol, “This is our first resident, Angel Dust-“ you recognize him too, but only from the posters you had seen when he was advertising with your brother…. Who was still alive. You perked up and waved friendly at the demon, hoping to make a connection to see how your brother was doing, “This is our maid, Nifty-“ she was so small and cute, but then she grinned and your smile dropped instantly because what the fuck is that thing, “This is my girlfriend, Vaggie-“ Vaggie seemed nice enough, you decided, and the purple tone of her skin appealed to your aesthetic sense, “aaaaand this is my dad, Lucifer, he’s our event coordinator!”

“Lucifer… Morningstar?” It had all clicked in that moment - Alastor had introduced Charlie as Charlie Morningstar, Princess of Hell. Well, fuck. You looked at the man, nearly eye height to yourself but he was a few inches taller than you were but it was nice to at least not have to crane your neck to look up at him.

He flashed a full toothed smirk at your reaction, “Yes, it’s me. The King of Hell. But you can call me Lucifer because here we are simply coworkers.” He grabbed your hand from Charlie and placed a kiss against your knuckles.

You pulled your hand away with more force than intended - you found physical contact with men extremely uncomfortable, especially when it was unexpected- and he frowned, hurt crossing his expression, “Sorry, I should have asked.”

You hold up your hands in a defensive gesture, “N-no, I’m just not used to being touched so much. I shouldn’t have tugged away so hard.”

You felt a familiar hand creep around your shoulders as Alastor bent at the waist to stare at Lucifer, “Oh, no! You’ve made our new friend uncomfortable!” He clicked his tongue to make a disappointed sound, “I thought the King of Hell would have better manners.”

Lucifer looked at Alastor with his red eyes flashing in anger, “She just said she doesn’t want to be touched so why are you touching her?”

He hums, “She’s an old friend of mine! I can touch without worry!”

You try to move out of the grip but his hand tightens, claws against your skin threatening to break and spill the blood pumping underneath.

Charlie sighs in frustration, “I really wish you two would stop fighting so much - it makes us look like we don’t have a united front, and that’s not good for what we’re trying to do…”

Alastor’s grip on you loosens and disappears as he creeps back into his previous spot, Lucifer just looks off to the side, still pissed but obviously also embarrassed. He clears his throat, “I won’t touch you without your permission from now on. Sorry.”

You tilt your head to the side, observing how white his skin was against the red apples of his cheeks. His facial expressions were childish and almost made you wonder what your own expressions looked like to others.

Charlie pulled you out of your thoughts with a clap, “Let’s play a get to know each other game!”

—

You watched with your mouth agape as Charlie led her gaggle of geese in what seemed to be a normal occurrence for them with how easily they agreed to it all. This one was called ‘Confess and Guess’ - someone came up with a question and everyone wrote their answer down and put it in a bowl, and then the person who gave the question had to say their answer and then guess who wrote which one as they pull from the bowl.

It was almost heartwarming to see the group of them bonding cutely over questions until you caught Alastor’s gaze - his eyes narrowed at you and you looked down at your lap apprehensively not realizing it was your turn to pick a question, “Uh…. I don’t know - your favorite memory?”

You pick at your fingers as you wait for them to answer, accidentally breaking the tip of your left middle finger off. You curse as it rolls and lands next to Angel Dust who picks the appendage up with a cringe, “That happen often?”

“O-only when I pick at them. Sorry, I’m just nervous.”

He hands it to you with a laugh, “No need ta apologize, toots.”

You nod in thanks and pull a needle from where a cluster of them sat at your right hip and carefully strung the digit back to your hand. You hold it out in front of you to make sure you didn’t attach it at an angle and you hear Lucifer laugh from across the circle. He grins at you, “You’re pretty fast with a needle - maybe you can help me with my overcoat! I tried to fix it with magic but it just doesn’t look right.”

You nod slowly, “I can see what I can do.”

The bowl is held under your nose and you look up at Charlie who grins expectantly, “Alright! Share your favorite memory first.”

Oh yeah, you forgot about having to participate with your own answer. You stare into the bowl before closing your eyes, “I remember… the first time I got to sleep in a bed. Well, a mattress pad, really-“ you laughed softly, eyes opening, “Right after ojciec and matka sold my brother and I, the organization gave us a room- our first one because we had lived in an alley before that- and there were two mattresses on the floor. I think we were so happy we cried.” You laugh at the memory, “We pushed the things together and slept under a blanket and I think it was the best sleep I’ve ever had.” Your heart ached at thinking about your brother, missing his presence more each second after having to watch him die.

“You were sold as a child?”

You startle at the question, but look at Charlie whose face has sunken, “Why would they-“

You laugh, eyes crinkling, “A lot of kids were at the time if they were healthy and lucky enough to have parents.” You start to pick at your fingers again, “We had it a lot easier than some - at least our owners fed and clothed us regularly and well.”

Angel Dust gave a slow whistle and laughed awkwardly, “Damn - owners, huh? Are you sure you aren’t hell born?”

Your finger breaks off again with a snap, but you grip it tightly in response, not having put it together yourself. Your life was never meant to be your own - your body and mind belonged to the men who owned you when you were alive, and now your soul and free will belonged to a man who owned you in hell. Your silence unnerved Angel Dust, “S-sorry, toots. I wasn’t thinkin- I just meant, ya know….”

You put the bowl onto the floor and stand, dusting off your skirt before laughing awkwardly, “I just need a minute, sorry.” You rush away before Alastor can make you stay and sit against your door, locking it this time so no one can come in.

The wood is cool against the back of your neck as you lean against the door, legs spread out on the floor. Well…. Fuck…

A delicate knock sounded behind you and you tensed, but let go as you heard Angel Dust quietly apologizing at the door, “I’m really sorry, I wasn’t tryin’ to upset you.”

You sigh and stand, cracking the door open, “It’s not you - I just don’t think I had ever put together that on my own and it surprised me. I’m not mad, I just need to think.”

His eyes looked away sadly, “If ya ever wanna talk, I’m here. I don’t own my soul neither - so I can kinda relate. Half relate, I guess.”

You smile in appreciation, “Thanks. I’ll be back down in a bit, I promise.”

He looks at you one last time, “Are ya sure ya wanna be alone right now?”

You hummed in consideration, but nodded, “Just for a bit, please.”

He nods and turns to leave and you shut and lock the door again, this time lying flat on the floor and staring up at the ceiling.

You weren’t sure how long you had been staring at nothing, but apparently it was too long because a grin appeared in your vision, Alastor leaning over you with narrowed eyes, “Are you done having your tantrum? It’s nearly dinner and Charlie is distraught thinking her game was a terrible idea.”

You frown, turning onto your side to face away from him, “I’m not used to this yet - I need some time to adjust.”

He appeared out of shadows laying in his side beside you, holding his head up with the hand resting on its elbow in front of him, “Adjust on your own time - our deal means that you appear and are here because I need you to perform a task. I could call upon another soul if you’d prefer and put you back-“

You scramble up, “No! Don’t send me back there, please?” You shook anxiously at the thought of nothing again, “I-I’m sorry, I’ll come back down. Do I need to help cook or-“

He appeared standing before you and rolled his eyes, grin still in place, “No - you need to correct your mistake and let Charlie know it was your error, not hers. Now.”

You nod in fear and rush to the door, unlocking it and rushing down - but you weren’t expecting to lose a foot on the way down the stairs. Because you hadn’t been paying attention and were rushing to find Charlie, you bent your ankle at an unnatural angle and the stitches tore, sending it flying towards the lounge. You stumbled forward down the stairs. Your head and shoulders made contact with the ground exactly twice before you felt weightless. Alastor had put you back, you assumed, panic welling in your stomach and spilling out as tears from your eyes as you sobbed.

“I-I’m sorry - I promised I’d ask for permission, but you were falling and… I’m so sorry.”

You blinked through your tears, staring up at Lucifer who had thought he had broken your boundaries again AND hurt you, “It’s not dark?”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Let me put you down-“

You gripped onto him tighter, arms wrapped around his neck and your fingers digging into his shoulders, “I don’t want to go back…”

He frowned at the display, but kept his hold on you once he landed, “The overland? You can’t really go back there-“

“The dark…”

He could feel your tears soaking through his shirt and lifted a hand to pat your head in comfort despite not fully understanding your emotional outburst, “Okay. You don’t have to go back.”

You gasped and let go of him, grey eyes staring into his red ones, “Promise?”

He felt his pride flair at the desperate look in your face, “Promise.”

You seemed to blink out of whatever emotion you had been in and let go of him, “S-sorry, it’s been a tough day.”

He nodded in mock understanding- he really had no idea what the fuck just happened but if he could comfort someone and help Charlie at the same time, he was going to do it, “Dinner is almost ready, want to head to the dining room?”

“I-is Charlie there?”

“Yeah.”

You nod and he holds out your foot in his hand to you, “You dropped this earlier - do you need help or do you want to lean on me and put it back on when we get to a chair?”

You take your foot, “That’s so embarrassing, I’m so sorry. If you could just help me to the bar I can do it really quick and you can take me to Charlie so I can apologize.”

He smiled and lifted you with surprising ease, walking you over to the bar where he placed you carefully on a stool. You thanked him and lifted your leg onto the barstool beside you on top of your removed foot and sewed it up quickly. You frown, knowing you’ll have to be careful and reattach it later with a better thread, but this would work for now.

You stand, testing your weight on it, hop a few times and then look at Lucifer, “Where is the dining room?”

He holds out his elbow as an offer, raising his eyebrow in question. Was this guy just overly touchy? You stared at his arm until his face turned a little embarrassed like he was going to retract the offer, but you reached out in that moment, hooking your arm with his. His eyes widened, and he took a deep breath, but he seemingly decided to inwardly savor the moment and escorted you to a room down the hall from the lounge area where Charlie was happily setting a table for dinner.

You let go of Lucifer, but squeeze his arm in thanks before walking over to Charlie and lightly tapping her shoulder. She jumps, eyes wide at you, “O-oh, Anne!” She looked down and clasped her hands together nervously, “I’m so sorry about the exercise- I didn’t realize-“

You put your hands on hers and she looks into your eyes instead of the floor in surprise, “No, I’m sorry. I was having a moment and wasn’t considering how it would affect you and the others. If I get in a feeling like that again, I’ll try to communicate to let you know what’s happening in my head. It isn’t your fault - I hadn’t realized-“ you stopped yourself when Alastor appeared across the room and sighed, “I guess I’m just not meant to be free, is all.”

Charlie frowned, “Are you under a soul contract?”

Alastor chose that moment to tap his cane against the ground, “What’s for dinner tonight?”

Charlie jumped, but didn’t let go of your hands, “We can talk later, okay?” She smiled and let go before bouncing to Alastor, “Vaggie said paella - she was really excited to share it with us and it smells so good!”

“You okay? You look nervous.”

You glance beside you at Lucifer, who sounds concerned, but has his focus completely on Alastor and Charlie. You smile slightly, “Yeah, thanks. Just been a while since I’ve been around people.”

He glanced over to you and raised an eyebrow, but doesn’t pry. Instead he looks to his daughter again, “Is Alastor someone I can trust my daughter with?”

You look over at the two and Alastor glances your way with narrowed eyes. You sigh, “I honestly have no idea.”

“I thought you two were old friends.”

“Friends is not a term I would use…” You glance at Lucifer, “But he saved my brother from extermination, so I owe him my life.”

Lucifer looks at you once again, eyebrows raised, “Your brother is in hell, too? Why aren’t you with him?”

“Because I owe Alastor, and my brother is in a soul contract that I can’t get him out of unless I have something worth trading - he’s not allowed to leave the home of his owner without permission per his contract, and he refused to let me meet his owner so I can’t do anything or be with him.”

“That’s so sad… who owns him?”

You shrug and decide that’s enough spilling your life story. You move down the table and sit at an open seat as people start to fill in from the hotel. Charlie wasn’t joking when she said the hotel had a lot of interest - this was many more people than you had imagined seeing at a project meant for rehabilitation.

Angel Dust takes the seat beside you carefully, “Do you mind me bein ya neighbor for dinner?”

You flash a small smile, “Not at all.”

He grinned and the two of you made small talk until dinner was served.

It was warm. You imagined if you had family dinners, this is what it would have sounded and felt like. You stayed mostly quiet during dinner, eating and enjoying the light banter around you. You looked around the table and found Lucifer’s gaze was on you. He waved his fingers and smiled and you snorted, but nodded in greeting.

Angel Dust elbowed you with his lower set of arms, “Are you flirtin with the big dick in charge?”

You choke on a piece of chicken at the comment and Angel Dust panics, patting your back roughly and apologizing profusely until you’re down to just coughs. You widen your eyes and stare at Angel Dust in disbelief, “I just met him- why would I be flirting?!”

He blinks,”I flirt with guys I don’t know all the time. It’s not that weird. Also, I was joking.”

You are too embarrassed to look for a reaction from anyone else and decide to just stare at your food until you’ve finished. You look up at Angel Dust once you’ve gained your courage back, “Thanks for earlier, by the way. I really did appreciate you making sure I was okay.”

He grinned again, “Of course!”

When dinner ended, the large group had shuffled to the lounge and were participating in jovial conversation and games at Charlie’s behest. You smile softly, leaning against a wall away from the crowd. You hadn’t ever imagined seeing such a wholesome image in Hell, not once had you seen this kind of joy and camaraderie in a group of people since your arrival. Maybe this really wasn’t so bad a situation even if you didn’t fully own your life.

“You look tired.”

You look to your side where Lucifer is leaning against the apple of his cane, eyes on the crowd with a wistful smile across his face. He was so expressive - you know you had thought about it earlier, but even in life you can’t remember knowing anyone that was so easy to read emotionally, “I am. I think I may go to bed early - I need to really hit the ground running tomorrow.”

He turns his head to you and holds out a hand, “It was nice to meet you today - if you ever need to talk, I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

You take the hand and shake it lightly, and he grins down at the connection, “I appreciate that. Sorry about my outburst earlier…. I don’t normally use new acquaintances as shoulders to cry on.”

He squeezed your hand in comfort and looked into your face with the same smile he was staring at the crowd at with, “It’s no big deal - consider it forgotten until you feel comfortable talking about it. Unless you don’t want me to forget, then consider it remembered? You know what? Consider it whatever you want.” He laughed nervously, eyes now avoiding yours.

You let out a laugh at his awkwardness and pull your hand out of his, “Thanks.” You stretch and sigh, “If anyone asks just let them know I’ll be out bright and early tomorrow.” You also needed to make sure all of your stitches were attached decently before you put your whole self into this job. It’d be awkward to lose an arm, ear, or toe while trying to help someone. You leave, not waiting for a response, but you can feel his gaze on you as you ascend the stairs to the hall where your room is - it made you almost feel safe.

You reached for your door and a familiar static played in your ears. You sighed and opened your door and looked up at Alastor, “Need to chat?”

“So perceptive!”

You motion to the door and let him walk in before entering and closing the door yourself.

He grins at you, “Just a few notes about your performance!”

“Sure.” You move to sit on your bed and start to remove the foot that had fallen off, digging through your pocket for a more industrial strength thread before taking to reattaching your foot more securely.

“First - you know that you cannot let people know that I own you.”

“Figured.”

“I also see that our King seems to be curious about you….”

You look up at him, confused, “What do you mean?”

“Just that he hasn’t attempted to be that cordial with anyone but his daughter and her girlfriend since moving into the hotel.” He looks at his nails, “I would like for you to take advantage of this fancy and get to know him better.”

You laugh flatly, “Why? So you can exploit some weakness that I find against him?”

“Precisely.” His chipper tone catches your attention again and he continues, “What? You gain a new friend and I gain some valuable information - it seems like a winning situation on both fronts.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Nope!” He laughed with an amused joy and moved to sit beside you on the bed, “You are such a pleasant employee- keep this up and maybe I’ll help you get some time to spend with your brother.”

You drop your needle and look at Alastor with wide eyes, “Y-you can do that?”

“Do you doubt that I have the ability to?”

“No, I just…. Thank you! I’ll do my best.” You pick your needle up with shaking hands and finish the final stitch at your ankle, “Can it be soon? I…. I’d like to see him.”

Alastor hums in consideration, “Tell you what - I’ll arrange for a meeting once you bring me a factoid about our friend Lucifer that I find particularly interesting.”

“Interesting in what sense?”

“Something I can use, darling. Bring me things until you bring me something that makes me go ‘Oooh!’!” He stood and gave you a curt pat on the head, “Sleep well, pet! I can’t wait to hear what you bring me! Ooh! Let’s plan for a weekly tea!” He claps his hands in amusement, “A week from today, weekly, we will meet in my tower and have a chat of a nice cup of tea. See you then!”

And he was gone.

You sigh and flop onto your back on the bed. Your afterlife really was the same as your life. You were just a tool for information gathering, but this time you didn’t have your brother to comfort you after a particularly hard day. You rolled onto your side and curled your limbs against yourself as sleep overtook you - you hadn’t slept in so long, it was a welcome change.

[raspberrybluejeans]

ive been seeing a lot of mouse-folk art on my recommended tab and it makes me crave Celios so here is my humble request for lore or art?

So for context for anyone else reading this we realized in DMs that there was a name mixup but i did draw a quick eensy Celios for fun because I love them very much.

My two rat-folk characters though are named Francach (Frahn-caw) and Cían (Kee-ann). They were from a D&D 2e game that is in a semi-permanent hiatus. May it raise from the grave someday lol.. (More under the cut so its not such a long post lol)

A lot of details are fuzzy but basically we played a prequel to the actual campaign that took place quite a while in the past. We played this to set up some story stuff for the campaign and to learn how to play D&D 2e. I played Francach in this prequel.

These are the pics I drew during that mini campaign, he was a mage and in the second image he's being carried by another player who was an aarakocra lol. The gist was that we had to carry out a heist and bring the stolen object to a god.

I don't remember the exact situation but this prequel basically ended with a total party kill </3 If I recall correctly Francach actually died of a heart attack before the rest of the party was killed 😅

attempt at drawing a rat dying of a heart attack 💀 RIP king.

We never played the actual campaign... But Cían was my character for that. He is a distant relative/descendant of Francach. The story takes place in this sort of metropolitan (but still medieval-esque) bay city and in Francach's time he was either one of the first ratfolk in general in the city or he was one of the first of his particular culture of ratfolk.

Once again I don't remember details exactly but I think there was a culture of (what we would consider) wild-looking rats, like norway rats roof rats whatever. mostly solid colored and typically meaner on the mainland. But Francach and Cían come from an island of what we would consider domestic rats. There was a lot of Celtic inspiration for the island which is why they have Gaelic names.

Ratfolk are almost never born as single children, so Cían is a triplet. I don't remember what his brother's name was but I think his sister was named Sìne (she-na). I also don't remember what the exact reason was but for the main campaign he decided to come to this metropolitan city with his sister.... I think to research something for family back home. Sìne was going to be an NPC controlled by the DM, I would only be controlling Cían.

Cían is more brown than Francach and has more of a blaze pattern on his face where Francach had a white spot on his forehead. These are all the various attempts at drawing Cían but none of them felt quite right.

I think the first one in the middle row is probably the best lol

I haven't tried drawing any of them in awhile but maybe I will try again sometime soon ;v; Its difficult trying to anthropomorphize a rat they have such different bodies from us...

[girlreviews]

Review #293: Last Splash, The Breeders

FUUUUUUUCK I love this record, but it permanently damaged the hearing in my right ear. I caught their show at Blackheath Hall in 2005. I put myself right at the front because I really loved them that much and I wanted — no, needed — to feel the heaving guitar in my chest, it felt like, to even continue on. I was seventeen so you know, everything felt a bit extra. I might as well have been hugging the PA system. Anyway, I didn’t anticipate what would happen during the part in Cannonball where Kim sings (yells) “WANT YOU, LITTLE CUCKOO” into the harmonic mic with all that distortion. Yeah, it’s loud. It’s so loud. My eardrum burst. I’ve had tinnitus ever since. My poor left eardrum suffered the same fate two weeks later at the Reading Fez (RIP), during a Mew show. Respectable, but so much less cool than its audio peeper partner in crime. Wear earplugs my friends. It’s not a joke.

Kim Deal founded The Breeders while The Pixies were on hiatus. Well that’s not true, she had been doing both but never able to focus on The Breeders, until 1993 when went Frank Black abruptly announced The Pixies hiatus live during an interview without informing the other band members first. The hiatus was kind of due burnout from recording three albums in two years and touring the hell out of them. Really though, Kim was not getting along with Frank. Here’s the thing — nobody really gets along with Frank. I love the Pixies. I do. But I will get into a fist fight with anyone who wants to insist that they’re better than The Breeders. They’re not. And the thing is, everyone has listened to The Pixies, while most of those same people haven’t given Kim and her band the same time of day. And you know why that is? Because they’re women who are playing heavy rock music. That’s all there is to it. I won’t hear anymore about it, I won’t say anymore about it and I’m not gonna fucking argue with you or anybody else about it. I’m right. Frank Black is a man, he fronts a band, so he gets paid more attention and listened to, and his shitfuck behavior gets dismissed as creative genius. The songs are great but that doesn’t mean you’re not an asshole, Frank! I’ll die on this hill but I’ll also throw hands before I do. Come at me.

I present to you, No Aloha, which actually, beautifully illustrates my point. It is also both beautiful and knockout punch effortlessly cool. It’s dreamy, and also like “we’re here to fuck shit up”. How can I express that it’s lovely and also ass kicking in its vague but biting commentary on being a woman in the music industry, and trying to make it in a band made up of all women (I think they’ve had a dude drummer in their line up from time to time to be fair, but still). It’s about how people that gave her the time of day during her Pixies tenure don’t give a shit about her now “No bye, no aloha, gone with a rock promoter” and how the perils of womanhood impact her creative output “motherhood means mental freeze, freezeheads, no aloha”. Think about what no aloha means. No hello. No goodbye. The disrespect. Ugh. Fuck yes to putting this out there unabashedly.

Obviously, Cannonball, the song that exploded my right ear, is iconic. If you don’t immediately recognize its bassline then I regret to inform you that you need to brush up on your general pop culture knowledge and you stand literally no chance of ever placing at any kind of trivia night. But most importantly, where have you been, and what have you been doing? And are you okay? Genuinely, you’re missing out. The whole thing about them is that musically they are just making some NOISE, and rocking so hard, but Kim’s voice is also so gentle and smooth. Like warm molten wax, or thick maple syrup and butter soaking into a perfect pancake. And she’s harmonizing with her own twin sister, who has the same voice? It’s too many textures but they’re polar opposites. It overwhelms and soothes at the same time. It’s quite an experience. So get it in your ears already.

There are some really lo-fi dulled down tracks, that are really tender and only a band of women could make them. Do You Love Me Now? Literally a low energy bass-led ballad earnestly asking someone if they want to get back together. It’s heart on sleeve girl bravery: I still love you and I don’t care if this doesn’t work out for me, I’m gonna say it. Such a poignant question, followed by a command:

“Does love ever end?

When two hearts are torn away?

Or does it go on?

And beat strong anyway?

You’ve loved me before

Do you love me now?

Come on come on come back to me

Right now”

It finishes with this cascade of harmonies. And I adore it.

My favorite track, and favorite story. Drivin’ on 9. A little ditty! Who doesn’t love a ditty? Again I need to talk about Kim’s voice. It’s like. It’s like. What is it like? When you toast a marshmallow and then squish it between a graham cracker and melted chocolate. It’s like, a smooth whiskey, probably (I don’t like whiskey). It’s like a tiny bird just landed on your hand for the briefest moment. It’s so delicate and precious and you don’t know how such a voice comes out of anyone’s mouth, but especially not hers, because she’s so tough and cool. The strings in the song make me want to die in the best way. Like when people say they died and went to heaven. They pluck it AND they use the bows. Why do I love it so much? Probably because it’s a song about driving and thinking. That’s my favorite thing to do.

“Drivin’ on 9

Lookin’ out my windowsill

Wonderin’ if I want you still

Wonderin’ what’s mine”

I last saw them play at Cannery Ballroom, and the most wonderful thing(s) happened. Firstly, they played this track, so I was happy to begin with. But there was some issue, like one of the violins was missing or broken or not able to be mic’d up correctly or something, I forget. So, Kelley Deal SANG the violin solo. And got it dead on. I cried. These women are just the coolest to ever do it.

I write these reviews because I fundamentally have a problem with the makeup of music critics being made up of men. And I notice looking back how these records and tracks are interconnected with trash men who have acted trash to me or others. I have things to say. I take issue with how they’re written as though their subjective opinions are gospel to be consumed as objective fact. This dynamic can make or break someone’s career when it’s their art and creative output that they’ve poured their heart and soul into. It’s no coincidence that music overall, but rock and alternative music in particular is made up of majority white men, too. Some with self-proclaimed “good taste” can just label it good or bad when it’s not necessarily made for someone that looks like them. These reviews are my experience and my opinion and it’s okay with me if you do or don’t agree, if you love a record that I hate, or if you hate a record I love. But more voices are important and remembering that they’re subjective opinions is pretty fucking important. Hearing someone’s passion (or lack of) about a record is more valuable than hearing their self-importance or gravitas. The Rolling Stone Top 500 is fundamentally flawed in how it’s compiled because of who it’s compiled by, and so I’m deconstructing it one review at a time, noting that as a white woman, the addition of my voice isn’t the full answer or even a big part of the answer. But like I said, I have things to say, and I hope if you have things to say, whoever you are, you’ll share too. But here we are: it’s just proving my point. I’ll be writing one review of The Breeders, but two for The Pixies.

I’m just doing what Kim did when she got sick of the bullshit with Frank Black and The Pixies and decided to do it her way. Nowhere near as loud, nowhere near as cool, and I expect your eardrums will survive my reviews in tact.

Signing off with these words from my favorite “girl” band:

“I see a boy I know

His hair's on fire

The whole world I discovered

If you're so special, why aren't you dead?

I just wanna get along

I just wanna get along

I just wanna get along

Wave bye bye

Cus it ain’t never coming down now”

[cadybear420]

Might be minimally active on here for a while. My macbook's charging port and battery aren't working. Basically it doesn't charge when I plug it in, but otherwise everything else seems to work normally.

I don't think the data on my laptop is at risk of being lost permanently, but I am still rather anxious over it and that is hindering my motivation to do some of the things I normally like to do.

There are also some Tumblr features that are easier with and exclusive to desktop, so the kind of stuff I'll be able to post will be limited. I will be unable to make edits for a while, the editing program and files are all on my laptop. RIP because I was hopefully gonna get back into them again.

Answering asks for 🍉 campaign promotions will be on extended hiatus too (they kinda have been for a while because I've been dealing with a lot of things at once lately).

I'm still gonna run @aidenzhouappreciationweek, though some writing I had for promotional posts were on my laptop. I probably won't have to worry about it now as the event isnt until October 9, but if the situation gets worse or takes a long time, I will try to rewrite those things from scratch.

I'll still be able to write fanfics, and thankfully my ongoing stories are all on google docs. But again, the anxiety is very distracting.

[greywindys]

show us the neopets! /lh (you don't have to if you don't want to)

Ahhh I'll do so happily!! I've been holding onto this ask because I needed a time where I could sit down and adequately screenshot everything. Warning for Neopets!! I'm probably going to use a lot of jargon that makes no sense to non-players, but that's just how it is. If you have any interest in more detailed explanations about wtf I'm talking about, I would check Youtube! There have been some great videos released in the past month outlining the mechanics of the game, the lore, recent events etc. Anyhow...

This is my Gelert, Lightning (misspelled as "Lighting" because little kid me couldn't spell). He is the very first pet I ever created. I might update his paint job soon to something more exciting, but I also like the simplicity. His petpet (recently painted Spring) is named after my IRL dog. I love them both.

This is Butters, my second oldest pet. Idk what I was thinking when I was naming him. Actually no, I do - my little kid self was edgy. But I can't ever part with him because he's from my childhood. I somehow managed to transfer him (along with Lighting) across two accounts without losing him, he is a relic. That won't be his permanent petpet either. I'm still figuring that one out 🤔

And here we are veering at least slightly on topic - my Lupe, Murdoc. Or Murdocs, since the actual "Murdoc" name was taken. I made him after a long hiatus from the site when I returned briefly (only to leave again up until now). If I truly wanted to commit to making a pet that represents Murdoc, I probably should have chosen a bug or reptilian species...but I don't want a bug or reptilian species ever. His petpet is a reference to the yak he got 2D during P5 fkadlfa. I'd like to ultimately find him one that looks like The Evangelist, but the petpet i have in mind is like, 10 million neopoints, or something insane like that. And I can't get him Cortez. Why, you might ask? Well...

This is Sanemi. His character has been a wolf in canon, but since I already had Murdoc, I opted for a cat instead, which I think is also fitting. He's typically associated with the colors green, white, and black, but his eyes are purple, so Wraith it was. The leaves are probably as close as I'll get to creating a "wind breathing" effect, and I'm working on finding him an appropriate sword (it's not going well jkadal). He has a few pets, but the only named one is his crow, Sorai. I don't want doubles anywhere if I can help it, so no Cortez for Murdoc.

This is Sansa, named for Sansa Stark from ASoIaF/Game of Thrones. Her petpet is Lady, named after her late direwolf (RIP). I couldn't not have a GOT reference somewhere, and I also love Woodland Unis.

This is Rusalka, named after my current favorite song by the Decemberists. I'm probably going to change her color to faerie soon-ish, despite the fact that I chose Maraquan in the first place because of the song and name reference. But they're bringing back the original Faerie Neopet art sometime this year, and I love the way faerie Ixis look, and I always wanted one when I was younger (I was too poor back then).

This is my second-newest pet, Kacchan. He's a Kacheek (Get it? Kacchan, Kacheek lmao). I finally settled on how I wanted my Bakugou pet to look. I still have to get him a few more accessories, namely a mask and a glitter effect, because in case you didn't know, canon Bakugou is literally sparkling right now. I also intend to change his petpet. The one he has now is just filler until I can save up for the paint brush I need.

And this is my brand new pet, 2Doc! Sjfkaldfj. I outsmarted the system - "2Doc" might have been taken, but Twodoc was not. She isn't staying that color, might not be staying that species, and definitely won't be keeping that petpet. She's currently call a "lab rat." It'll take to long to fully explain, but basically, if you collect a certain amount of map pieces, you can unlock the secret lab ray where you can zap your pet once a day. It's completely random and can changes species, color, gender, and stats. I plan on zapping her until it feels right, but I kinda want her to be zap Burlap or Plushie atm. We'll see what happens! In this specific pet's case, it's more about having the name than having an accurate customization.

And finally, this is my Giyuu/Sanemi pet. There aren't really a lot of references here, I again mainly thought it would be funny to have a pet named after a ship, and I created him at a time when I didn't think a 2Doc pet was obtainable. And if we're being completely honest, this ship is better than 2Doc anyways. I also love Plushie pets and the fact that most people probably wouldn't be able to tell that he has a ship name just from looking at the collection of letters. It's stealth lmao.

So, notably missing from this list is a Succession inspired pet. I more than anyone, want, no need to make a Succession pet soon, but the species I have in mind is limited addition, and can only be created on their specific day (the anniversary of the day they were first released). So unless I want to blow through half of my life savings (in neopoints, not actual money), I have to wait until April. Which rn, is what I'm doing unless I'm very fortunate in my dailies or weekly prize.

Anyhow, those are my pets so far!

[howlingmoonrise]

17 Questions, 17 People

tagged by the fantastic @galvanizedfriend! it's been a while, thank you for thinking of me! :D

•Nickname: howl is a technically a nickname and it's my favourite one!

•Sign: cancer like the tumblr crabs 🦀🦀🦀

•Height: 1.70m *flexes*

•Last thing I googled: "brandon lee the crow"

•Song stuck in my head: Butter by BTS (DON'T ask me how i just got into them right as they went on hiatus for military service after yearsof them being massively popular, i'm blaming this stupid gacha game for it)

•Followers: idk man, like 800 on one blog, 1k+ on another, then 300 on another.... i have many sideblogs and i'm def not gonna go through them all.

•Amount of Sleep: 😬 listen if i'm ALLOWED to i'll sleep for 10+ hours and i do this on the weekends. but work makes this impossible, and also i dread waking up to go to work in the morning, so i make that even better by only sleeping like 5-6 hours to try and wring out more free time from the day. i slept 6 hours last night and 4 the night before that. rip.

•Lucky number: 3! 7! 9! 13!

•Dream Job: just as yokan said before me, i simply do not dream of labour ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ however i'd love to be an hermit writer in the middle of the woods with lots and lots of money in my bank account for whenever i chose to reenter civilization.

•What I’m wearing: men's black cargo pants, plain petrol blue shirt, fancy and fluffy teal house robes, combat boots.

•Movies/Books that summarise me: movies: peter pan 2: return to neverland, pitch black, treasure planet, mulan, paranorman, casper (1995), barbie in the 12 dancing princesses, the rocky horror picture show, the crow

books: howl's moving castle (NO my name is not a reference), going postal by terry pratchett, juliet marillier's flame of sevenwaters, AND if comics count then also petshop of horrors

•Favorite Song: it kinda changes every week so hm. laura branigan's self control and halestorm's i am the fire are always good semi-permanent bets, though lately I've been listening a lot to light asylum's dark allies and rina sawayama's frankenstein. i am very consistent with genres i know uwu

•Favorite Instrument: violin or hurdy-gurdy

•Aesthetic: goth goth goth punk goth witch goth foresty goth goth goth pink goth glitter!

•Favorite Book: diana wynne jones' howl's moving castle annnnnnd *throws dart at wall of juliet marillier works* probably juliet marillier's flame of sevenwaters or heir to sevenwaters? special shoutout to maggie stiefvater's the scorpio races, naomi novik's spinning silver, and holly black's the queen of nothing.

•Random Fact: i can lick my own elbow! double-jointed superiority.

I tag @malgraw @sandmancircus @arkhangelske @booksfoodmusic-minion @cthulhu-with-a-fez @omgianna @purplesigebert @fynneyseas @awishturnedwell @rebornfromash @produdfctititty @bongboybrown @snorlaxlovesme @dying-suffering-french-stalkers @rogha @ladyyatexel @nuinancawen if you guys want to do it, and whoever else thinks it sounds fun!

[charlizekkelly]

✨HIATUS ANNOUNCEMENT✨

there’s no need to stress cause (unlike one direction) this isn’t permanent. from April 6th to the 11th I’ll be taking a break from Instagram and the majority of my socials.

moreover, this is for Easter and my getaway trip down by the ocean with the company of my dog, books and writing. and y’know, we’ll see if I can fall into any roadside waterways or do a mad dash past RIPPED kangaroos on a 20 degree day.

this is also my chance to get ahead of my editing notes fresh from my editor on SotN so, the less distractions are the best kind of medicine for me.

so until I’m back, stay safe, have a great Easter (if you celebrate) and keep reading. don’t forget to add SotN to your Goodreads and pre-order on Amazon for some goodies!!

(goodies to be revealed *hopefully* when I’m back)

-Charlize K. Kelly🖤🦇

🦇 PRE-ORDER SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT NOW ON AMAZON!

🦇 ADD SOTN TO YOUR GOODREADS!

[tonguetyd]

FANTASTIC QUESTION because it basically becomes “if Something Happens, how does ST continue” walk with me for a second

So disclaimer obviously I am not wishing any of this on any of them, but the industry is rough and can turn even the closest of friends on each other. So let’s look at what happens when band members fight and leave.

First option is the Blink-182 route. Where you have a member replaced in a high visibility way. Tom left, Matt replaced him. (Until Tom came back but that’s not the relevant part rn.) It is highly public and you continue on with This Other Guy and keep touring and kinda hope your fan base vibes with him. This is technically what’s happened with the other iv’s (of course we don’t know if there was any kind of fall out or just The Schedules Didn’t Work [drift please stop capitalizing for emphasis jfc] and it’s not up for us to speculate since we don’t even know the other iv’s. Also reasons are irrelevant for this particular conversation.) and how we got our current screamy guy. So the gut answer you’re gonna get from a lot of people is “well they did it before so they could do it again.” I don’t personally see that. Because all of the guys right now are SO integrated into the fan base at this point that I don’t think they could do a switch out very easily. It’s possible. But I have my doubts. I’d say the least likely option.

Second option is the Paramore route. Members leave, they are not directly replaced but instead have their instruments played by touring members who stand not in the spotlight, aren’t in promo pics, not in interviews, etc etc. Jeremy left so there is no bassist in Paramore and it’s played by the incredible backing band. This is more likely because again, kinda sorta already happened when iii left tour last year. They didn’t directly replace him, they just had his parts played on the back track and didn’t have a bassist on stage. Do I think this would happen in a permanent case? …not so much. I think they knew iii’s absence was temporary and that’s why they just left that side of the stage empty. If it was a long term thing where someone was to leave forever? …it COULD go that way but again, have my doubts.

Lastly is the Fall Out Boy route. Pete and Patrick start fighting and the machine is ripping them to shreds and it just is Not Working anymore. So they break up. (And then thank GOD come back together stronger than ever, truly I think the hiatus is what saved FOB and made their bonds what they are and I will NOT go on a sappy rant about the Chicago boys inside a rant about the eepy boys……). I think this is the most likely option, I hate to say it. Especially because the above options only work if it’s iii or iv. If ii or ves leave? ST ceases to exist. Full stop. There’s no other option in that case bc it’s the same thing as fall out boy. You can’t do it if Pete or Patrick leave. And I think it’s the same thing in this case. So it’s really just if iii or iv left, and genuinely I think as things stand now with them? They would probably also call it. They are both so adored and integral to the live shows, I don’t think you do it without them long term. It’s too different, it doesn’t feel right.

It also depends on how much more they have to say. If there’s a blow up and they have like. A month’s worth of shows still? I’m thinking they go a paramore route until the gigs are done. If there’s nothing left in the tank? End on a high. Nothing lasts forever, right? But if you have way more to say and want to keep ST alive forever? Idk. They would have to be the ones to make that call.

Cuz I sure as fuck wouldn’t want to.

Apart from Vessel, do you think other people could take their place?

Being a collective, do you see this possibility?

Just to be clear that I definitely do not wish for such a thing. But I keep thinking, because the music industry is really stupid.

[tobesobri]

Traditions | 17.3k

a/n: it's been a while since I uploaded writing and for some reason I decided to sign up for this challenge and by some miracle actually managed to write something for it 🤯anyways, this is for the Valentine's Day Challenge by @1dffchallenges and it's honestly just a bit of fun, enemies to lovers little bit of angst and some smut! so i hope you enjoy! I'd always love to know your thoughts!! (also pls excuse any errors, I wrote this in a week with little editing lol)

prompt: doube date

dialogue: “So let me get this right. You want to hire me as your date for a Valentine’s Day Party?”

Pink and red were speckled throughout the entire office, whether it was a bouquet of chocolate roses, a banner of hearts, or stuffed bears residing next to bowls full of heart-shaped candies. Every employee’s section of the office had been filled to the brim with decorations as well. Pink and red ribbon taped carefully around the edges of their desktop computer, little store-bought balloons, also heart-shaped, grouped together and tied to desk chairs. 

And Y/N, dressed in her typical all black outfit, rolled her eyes as she paced through the office toward the one section in the back that was immune to all things heart-shaped, pink, or stuffed. 

She sat down at her desk with a loud sigh, her purse hitting the floor in its usual spot just before she slipped out of her jacket and draped it haphazardly between her back and the chair. It’d be wrinkled by the end of the day, but she didn’t care all that much, nor did she put much thought into the stains on her purse from leaving it on the floor. All she concerned herself with, after settling in, was getting straight to work… which was put on hiatus when she came face-to-face with both a pink and heart-shaped sticky note plastered onto the center of her computer screen. 

Groaning, she ripped it off and moved to turn her computer on before she bothered to read whatever was written on the note. She considered three potential suspects while she pulled her keyboard down onto her desk and logged in. There was Kayla, who worked front reception and was one of the main culprits of all the Valentine’s decorations. A strong contender. It could’ve also been Ines or Carmen, her closest work friends whom Y/N knew both owned a pad of pink, heart-shaped sticky notes. 

However, when she finally let her eyes fall to the note as her computer loaded up, the handwriting didn’t match any of the women she knew, and she was quite positive that none of them would have written was was sprawled out in black ink either.

Roses are red, violets are blue. I will fill your office with teddy bears and balloons, if you don’t send me your half of the proposal by two.

Harry.

She crumpled the note and tossed it into the bin under her desk. He could go fuck himself for all she cared. Sure, she was nearly done with her portion of the work and would be able to send it to him before then, but now that he’d pestered her about it, he’d be lucky if she even bothered to send it to him at all. 

She didn’t doubt the promise, i.e. threat, he made on the note, but being surrounded by teddy bears and balloons would be worth making Harry’s life just a tad miserable.

After opening all the apps she’d need to get her work done, namely Photoshop and Illustrator, she connected her drawing tablet and set up the rest of her work station for the day, both on screen and off.

Harry had worked at the company for about two years longer than her and she’d started off as an intern while she was still in college and, after graduating, was hired as a permanent graphic designer. They had never really gotten along ever since Harry—jokingly—asked her to get him a coffee once… or twice. Unfortunately for her, though, they ended up working well together and their boss had stuck them both on the same projects ever since. Especially after the month-long project last spring that had been their most successful one to date. 

While she came up with the design parts of client projects, Harry handled the more technical side of things and they’d never really argued much over each other’s work even though they clashed constantly at a more personal level. 

“I see your feeling festive.” Just as she’d gotten into the groove of her typical morning and had forgotten all about Harry’s stupid note, his voice interrupted her entire thought process. So when she swiveled around to find him leaning into her little office space, it was hardly a surprise when she glared at him, even though he feigned offense at her bitterness.

“You got my note, I presume.” He let himself into her space anyway, holding a mug of steaming coffee she was sure he’d just made in the workroom, and leaned up against the opposite side of her desk that housed a much larger, digital drawing tablet for when she needed to do more intricate design pieces. 

She just swiveled back around to face her computer again and went back to work as if he was no longer there. Pretending to ignore his existence proved to be quite difficult when the very particular woodsy, vanilla scents of his cologne met her nostrils and filled her entire office. Not to mention, the sight of what he’d been wearing singed the backs of her eyelids so that she still saw him every time she blinked. It was as if her brain refused to let her forget what he looked like in his white button-up, sleeves rolled to the crooks of his elbows, all tucked into his fitted black trousers that tended to get the imaginations going of all the women in the building. 

Not her though, of course. She was better than that. Obviously.

He cleared his throat, still very much present in her space and still very much giving her a migraine. “So will it be ready by two?”

“Well, I planned to send it to you before lunch.” She tweaked the spacing between letters of a potential logo for the millionth time. “But now… I think I might need the rest of the day.”

She heard rustling behind her and knew he was shifting his weight impatiently and running a hand through his hair as he often did when he was… displeased. “I told you I’m leaving early tomorrow and I need it no later than two.”

She cocked her head to the side, still staring at her computer screen and not giving him an ounce of satisfaction. “Did you tell me that?” She teased, an amused smirk lifting the corners of her mouth when she heard him groan behind her. “I must’ve forgotten.” Shrugging, she went back to her work.

“Unlike you,” he snapped, “some of us actually have a love life and I’d appreciate you not fucking up mine.”

She froze then, only for a split second, when his words sank in. Two thoughts raced through her head. The first a string of curse words because of his assumption that she didn’t have a love life. But the more prominent and worrisome part of his statement was that he did have one. And that he was leaving early tomorrow—Valentine’s Day—so he could get ready for a date.

Throwing both her prickly exterior and heartbreaking smirk up again, she turned to face him. “I’ve known you for three years now and if anyone has the potential to fuck up your love life, it’s you.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and her gaze fell to the hand that seemed to wrap a bit tighter around his Bugs Bunny mug. His knuckles whitened and she met his heated stare again, pleased with herself for getting him riled up before he’d even finished his morning coffee.

“So,” she continued before he get get a word of retaliation out, and sat back against her chair, crossing her legs confidently as she folded her hands in her lap. “Who’s the poor girl you’ve tricked into going on a date with you this time?”

Harry had a terrible track record. The longest relationship he’d been in lasted for two months, and that was well before she’d known him. Everything else he had was just a one or two night thing and nothing more. Sure, it was all more than she had, but she preferred it that way. Harry seemed to resent the fact that he couldn’t keep a girlfriend to save his life.

“You don’t know her.”

Her smile widened. “How long have you been seeing her?”

“Couple weeks.”

“Ooh, that just might be your second longest relationship, Styles.” 

“Well at least I’ve had one.”

His jab didn’t have an affect on her however, and he knew it wouldn’t because it never did. He knew she didn’t give a damn about relationships, or at least that’s what she claimed anyway. He couldn’t think of many twenty-four year old women who actually wanted to be alone. He actually couldn’t think of a mid-twenties anyone who wanted that.

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” She said nonchalantly, which irked him even more than he already was, and then swiveled away from him one last time, picking up her drawing pen and getting back to work.

“What’s your issue with relationships?” He went on and she knew he was headed right down a path intended to hurt her feelings just as much as she had his. So, she tensed slightly and braced for impact. “Is it a commitment thing? Or can you just not find anyone to put up with you for longer than five minutes?” 

She let his words sink their teeth in and then smiled to herself. “Hm. Seeing as you’ve been in my office now for,” she checked the time at the top right-hand corner of her screen, “eight minutes, maybe we should date.” She lifted a brow, awaiting his next response. 

It felt a bit like a cat-and-mouse chase bickering with Harry and since she was usually the cat, it brought her way too much pleasure fighting with him.

He scoffed. “Like I’d lower my standards for you.”

That one hurt, she had to admit. Not out loud or to Harry, but it still stung because it was true. He’d have to drop his standards to the floor to even consider dating her and she knew it. 

“Maybe,” she began, still half focused on her work, and ignored his comment all together, “some of us like being alone.”

“Nobody likes that.” He responded quickly and she heard a shift of his weight again and then his voice once more a few moments later. “It’s nice to be by yourself sometimes, yeah, but you can’t tell me you don’t want someone to come home to at the end of the day.” He crossed one leg over the other as he gripped the edge of her desk for support and just when she thought he was done, he kept going, “Someone you can vent to about your annoying co-worker.”

She glanced at him through the little portable mirror hanging above her desk—mostly used to make sure she looked decent before meeting with clients or, sometimes, Harry—and saw the tight smile on his lips. Almost as if that’s what he wanted, like he was talking about himself and not her. 

She’d slowed her progress down while he’d talked until she was no longer working at all. She no longer swiped her pen across the pad or had any idea what she was even doing when she focused solely on his words. Because, once again, whether he was talking about himself or about her, he was right.

“Yeah well,” she quickly hid herself back behind her wall and made her hands function properly again. “Some of us also don’t have the luxury of choosing whomever we want.”

She imagined him smirking at that one because, buried deep within her words was a compliment. That he was handsome enough to actually have anyone he wanted.

Instead, when she glanced at the mirror again and found him, there was the complete opposite of a smirk on his face, and as he stared down into his mug, clearly lost in thought, she wondered what the tightness in his jaw and the frown pulling on his lips meant.

She sighed and stole his attention away from his coffee. “I’ll have it to you before lunch. You can go now, unless you’d like to argue some more and slow me down by another…” she glanced at her clock again, adding up all the time he’d been standing in her office, “fifteen minutes.”

Without another word, she listened to the drag of his footsteps as he finally left her office space. And although she was glad to be rid of his distraction, the room felt so much bigger and so much colder and emptier without him in it. Shivering, she slipped back into her jacket and spent the next few hours doing nothing but staring straight ahead at her screen as she made final adjustments to her designs. 

Any other conversations with Harry were had over email as he worked in his own respective office, messaging her with every little concern he had in order to get his work done efficiently so that he wasn’t stressing to finish it tomorrow before he had to leave. Even though Y/N considered not responding to him a few times, just to spite him and slow him down for her own amusement, she found herself feeling guilty after leaving him hanging a couple times. Sure, she hated Valentine’s Day and everything surrounding it, but she’d almost hate even more the idea of both her and Harry being miserable tomorrow, so she inevitably gave in and cooperated with him. She’d probably regret it when he came back on Thursday spreading around the office all the gory details of his date, but at least he wouldn’t also be in a shitty mood. Her days were both boring and slow whenever Harry wasn’t having a good day. And although she’d blame it all on selfish reasons, it did also make her sad to see him frowning around the office and sulking when all she wanted to do was bicker with him and make him smile again, even just a little bit. But it was easier leaving him to his own devices than risk him finding out she cared about him enough to not wish sadness upon him.  

She couldn’t say the same for him. Harry probably relished in the days she came into the office in a sour mood. He probably celebrated and threw a party whenever she was upset, and, even so, it didn’t change how she felt about him.

The sun had long set and most of the office was gone by the time she finally called it quits and began packing up her things and giving her computer a rest for the night. There were still quiet murmurs from other workaholic employees, which comforting her knowing she wasn’t completely alone in the building, since the last time she’d done that, it took everything in her not to have a panic attack all the way to her car. 

Even though her boss told her countless times not to stay past five o’clock, as he told every other female employee that worked for him that he didn’t wish to see attacked after sunset in the city. Of course, when she was the only one who didn’t listen to him, he hired more guards and one of them rounded the corner into her office space, ready to escort her all the way down to her car.

“Figured you were still here.” He leaned against the walls of her cubicle and watched as she startled, twisting to meet his eyes for a moment before she settled and returned to slipping her belongings into her purse. 

“I don’t need you to escort me.” Zipping her purse, she rose from her chair, checking one last time across her desk to make sure she’d grabbed everything she needed to take home with her before turning to him as he still lingered in the opening of her little office. 

William had been hired a couple months ago, and was only a year older than her, but even so he was more than a foot taller than her and his biceps were about as big as her head. While the entire office drooled over him, she tended to keep her eyes and her thoughts to herself. 

“You say that every night you stay late. Just let me do my job and shut up about it.” He smirked at her and when her eyes met his again, sharply, glaring at him, she groaned and whirled past him toward the elevators. He followed swiftly behind, knowing she’d close the doors on him if he didn’t keep close enough pace with her, mostly because she’d done it before.

As he took his spot beside her and she pressed the button for the parking garage at the basement of the building, a familiar voice rang out through the office.

“Wait!” As if she wasn’t already annoyed enough with William’s presence, his stupidly large arm held the elevator doors open as Harry slipped inside a moment later.

“Thanks, mate.” Harry said exclusively to William as he caught his breath and stood wedged in the middle between the guard and Y/N, who was inching closer and closer into her corner to get away from Harry.

“You have any plans tomorrow?” Harry asked, his attention solely on William again while the elevator took off down through the levels of their building. Not fast enough for Y/N, of course.

William sighed, crossing his arms and trying to resist smiling. “Me and my girlfriend take turns surprising each other every year. And it’s her turn this year… so I guess I have plans, but I don’t know what they are.”

“Damn, way to make us feel incompetent.”

Y/N whirled her head to glare up at the side of Harry’s face. “Speak for yourself.” She warned.

Harry just ignored her though. “What did you guys do last year?”

Again, William stifled a grin. “I had been saving up for a while and took us both to Paris.”

“Shit.” Harry’s eyebrows rose and Y/N rolled her eyes away from him, watching the LED screen above the elevator doors as they neared the bottom levels of the building. She knew Harry and William had become friends, mostly because Harry was annoying and befriended everyone. Except her, of course. She heard his stupid voice again and wished she could just transport herself directly into the front seat of her car and be done with the both of them. “And now she has to do better than Paris.”

Y/N glanced around Harry just in time to see William smirk and she should have known what was about to come out of his mouth before it did. “Well, I don’t consider much better than her mouth ar—“

Y/N cut him off. “Ew! Are you serious?”

Both men eyed her curiously just as the elevator came to a stop and, with a ding, the doors opened. She flew toward them quickly.

“Y/N wait, I have to—“

Again, she cut him off, turning once she was out on solid ground. “I’ll be fine, besides trying to rid my mind of that image you just burned into it.” She turned on her heel and headed off toward her car.

William made a move toward her and Harry grabbed his arm, “I’ll walk her. Forgot she’s a bit of a prude.” They shared an amused look and Harry jogged out onto the concrete and asphalt until he reached her side.

“I heard that, you know… and I know for a fact your car is not parked in this direction.” She seethed and he just smiled to himself, happier than ever that she was in the mood to bicker with him, because he wasn’t quite in the mood to leave yet, where he’d have to wait till tomorrow morning at nine-thirty to see her again. And she wasn’t always the most talkative person on Valentine’s Day, either.

“Why are you the only female in our building not foaming at the mouth over him?” He asked instead, referring to William.

He heard her scoff. “Just because he’s attractive doesn’t mean I have to be interested… or want to hear about his girlfriend sucking his—“

“Cock?” Harry finished for her and within a second she spun around to face him, forcing him to stop in his tracks just inches from her now. His smirk only grew when he saw just how quickly he’d gotten her all flustered. 

And then, as they started each other down, the hardness in her face softened and she drew out a breath, forcing his eyes to fall to her lips and his smirk to fall from his mouth. He thought back to last spring, when there were numerous late nights with her just like this one. When he went home and couldn’t stop thinking about…

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked and he blinked a couple times before he lifted his eyes.

“Like what?” He furrowed his brows, trying to track down all the resentment he had for her but he couldn’t find it anywhere anymore. He couldn’t summon it and say something that would save his ass from being caught looking at her like he wanted to kiss her.

Like he wanted to taste her and feel her against him, and hear what she sounded like when he tugged at her hair for more.

“Nevermind.” She shook her head, silencing the chaos going on in his brain. And then she turned, continuing the walk to her car with or without him, but, when she heard the echoing click of his shoes against the asphalt once more, she knew she wasn’t rid of him yet.

“I don’t suppose you’ll give me a ride back to my car, will you?” He easily stepped back into place beside her like nothing had happened.

She didn’t say anything for much longer than he was comfortable with. And then, finally, they reached her car and she sighed. “Get in before I change my mind.”

As she went for the driver’s side, he took quick steps to the opposite side, watching her over the top of her little Honda as she unlocked her door, and then, after clicking the button, his door as well. They both slipped in at the same time and while she fastened her seatbelt and settled in for her drive home, he sat perched with his backpack in his lap, knowing he’d be out of her car within only a couple minutes.

He still glanced around at his surroundings as she backed out of her parking space. “Should’ve guessed your car would be as neat as your desk.”

She didn’t say anything as she drove in the opposite direction of the exit toward the section of the garage Harry always parked in. It was closer to the elevators because he always came in before her and snagged a prime spot. She preferred an extra few minutes of sleep over walking an extra fifty steps.

And he started up again when she continued to not talk to him. “Most artists I know of are super messy.”

“I’m not an artist.” She gritted out through her teeth as she came to a stop once she spotted the rear-end of Harry’s BMW. Although she knew it well enough to distinguish it from the other black BMWs in the garage, it also helped that Harry had an old, faded license plate cover filled with a collage of cute pictures of puppies. He’d said it won him bonus points with women, but she also knew his screensaver at work was a picture of puppies as well, and no women he was interested in ever saw that.

He peeled his eyes off his car and looked over at her. “I know you can draw, too.”

She paused, gripping her steering wheel. She did enjoy both art and design and she knew Harry knew the difference between the two. She just didn’t know why he always insisted on bugging her about it. 

“Yeah, well that doesn’t make me an artist.”

When he didn’t say anything, she glanced at him just in time to find him shrugging a shoulder like he was agreeing to disagree. Even if she couldn’t draw, he’d still consider her an artist because the things she managed to design always blew his mind and if that wasn’t art… 

She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to get out, or do I have to drag you?”

He grinned, and it was almost as if her eyes refused to see anything else but his dimples and the bright whites of his teeth, and the birthmark to the side of his mouth… 

“I’m going.” He assured, and yet he still hadn’t moved an inch. “Even though I’d love to see you try to drag me.” With her knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, he chuckled and unzipped the small pocket on the front of his backpack, withdrawing his keys as he finally swung her door open.

Once he was out, he gripped the top of the door and leaned back in to find her staring straight ahead. “Drive carefully, yeah? Would be quite tragic for your bitter ass to die on Valentine’s Day.”

She reached over and, despite having to brush her knuckles along the side of his thigh, grabbed the handle of the passenger door and yanked. His body remained in her way, however, and he was unfortunately a lot stronger than her.

Then she finally looked up at him, and those thoughts he had earlier surfaced again as much as he’d tried to bury them. This time though, he didn’t fight it as he glanced at her lips once more, then back at her eyes, which had widened slightly just before the dimples reappeared in his cheeks. “And I guess I would miss bickering with you every day.”

With that, he was gone and she retreated back to her seat as he shut the door for her. She had no idea what to think about what had just happened. Why he’d looked at her like that again. What that look even meant. 

By the time she reached the freeway, she’d convinced herself she was just seeing things. Harry wasn’t looking at her in any other way he had before when he was intent on pestering her. But, as she took in the scent of him still lingering in the cabin, she allowed a small part of her to hope she was wrong.

Her eyes fell on the man down the hall from her door as she slipped her key into the lock, her brows furrowing as she watched him. It wasn’t unusual for their paths to cross, as they tended to get home around the same time, but it was quite odd to see him sitting on the floor outside his apartment, his head in his hands. 

They’d said hi to each other a couple times in the mailroom, but she definitely didn’t know him well enough to go up and ask what his issue was or try to fix it for him. And after it was confirmed that he hadn’t, in fact, lost his keys, as they sat beside him on the floor along with his phone, she figured it best to leave him be. 

Turning her key, she pulled her gaze from him and disappeared from the hallway.

The second she was inside her apartment, she felt all the weight lift right off her shoulders, especially when her cat came racing up, screaming at her from the floor while also coaxing her toward the kitchen to fill the food bowl. Whatever was going on with her neighbor still very much on her mind, she tried to focus instead on relaxing and getting both her and the screaming Pretzel some dinner. 

She tried to remember his name as she heated up leftover pasta. She knew it started with an A, but her brain was coming up short. So, while Pretzel crunched on his food in his corner of the kitchen, she tried her hardest to remember. 

And it was no question why she cared so much. Her neighbor was someone she was actually interested in, and she had been since she first saw him. Of course, she was never foolish enough to think he was into her, but she still let herself fantasize. He was tall, nearly black curly hair atop his head always in a state of disarray, and he had the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen hidden behind his glasses. And, if she was being honest with herself, he was just a darker-haired version of Harry. Maybe that’s why she liked him.

The beeping of her microwave tore her thoughts from the dangerous path they’d been headed down. Harry’s voice rang in her head a moment later.

Like I’d lower my standards for you.

She’d needed to hear him say that, because sometimes her thoughts got carried away when it came to Harry and sometimes she did let herself be a fool who hoped. But after he’d said that one damning phrase, it was enough for her to stop. She didn’t meet a single one of his standards, inside or out. 

Still, she tried her hardest not to go back out into the hall and make sure her neighbor was alright. Maybe he just needed someone to talk to and it wasn’t like she was doing anything important. Even if she didn’t have a dumb crush on him, as she did Harry, she still didn’t enjoy seeing him in the state he’d been in.

Before she could work up the nerve, however, a knock sounded through her quiet apartment.

She held her breath as she opened her door, really hoping it wasn’t the boy from across the hall, since she was still blanking on his name, but she couldn’t imagine anyone else knocking on her door this late into the evening. 

So when she inevitably found him there, looking down at her through his annoyingly long lashes as she took in the horrible state he was in—red, inflamed eyes and hair that needed to see a brush rather than his hand—she completely lost her breath instead.

“Uh, sorry, I… saw you come in and I know we don’t talk and this is a weird thing for me to ask but…” He ran said hand through said messy hair and she found her breath again while looking up at him like she’d do whatever he’d asked just so he’d stop frowning.

He sighed, glancing down the hall toward his apartment and then met her curious and somewhat concerned gaze. “Can I come in?”

She recoiled. “Um… why?”

“Well, um, I was hoping you could help me with something and I’d rather not have the entire floor know about it.”

She was beyond confused now, but still, she stepped aside and let him pass, assuming that if he was actually a murderer he would have done her in a lot sooner than this. He had plenty of other opportunities. Plus, something in his face just… made her want to trust him.

She closed the door and turned to him, watching as his eyes scanned her kitchen and where her food still sat before he twisted around, eyes wide. “Shit, I’m sorry for interrupting.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine.” And after clearing her throat, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you, um… what do you need help with?”

He swallowed and she watched his Adam’s apple budge in his throat. “I don’t imagine you’ll like me very much after I ask but… I need a date.”

“What?” Again, she nearly flew out of her skin.

His eyes darted back and forth between hers, gauging her reactions and very obviously on the verge of seeing himself out and pretending this never happened. Instead, he stuffed away his pride and went on. “My ex… she, uh… well we broke up a few months ago and I saw her the other day and she’s seeing someone and we were talking and I… told her I was seeing someone too and so she invited me to go on this stupid double date with her… but the thing is… I’m not actually seeing anyone and I just told her that so she’d be jealous but she didn’t seem jealous at all and I don’t exactly have many friends to ask for help and I saw you and…” He rambled, but she managed to understand his predicament just fine. 

“A double date? With your ex?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know either. She’s… she does weird shit but… I still want her back.”

Y/N’s heart ached in her chest. As much as she detested relationships, she was a sucker for other people’s relationships and she was definitely a sucker for her beautiful neighbor, even if he was asking to use her to make his ex-girlfriend jealous.

“Not that I’m saying yes but… when? And where?” She finally asked after thinking things over for a moment.

“Tomorrow night… I can pay you. I will pay you, I mean… but, seriously, you don’t have to do it I just thought I would ask.”

“Where is this date at?” She repeated when he didn’t answer that part of her question.

“At this party… and bef—“

She cut him off. “Okay so let me get this right. You want to hire me as your date to a Valentine’s Day party?”

He lifted a brow, “Well, there’s more… she wants to get dinner before going to the party.”

She shook her head, looking away, “I don’t really do Valentine’s Day…”

“You wouldn’t have to do much. I’ll pay for your dinner, too. Whatever you want. I just… really need your help and you’re my only option.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You realize I’m not exactly…” she waved at her face and his eyebrows screwed together in confusion. “I’m not easy on the eyes and I don’t think taking me will make anyone jealous.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, just stared at her incredulously. She shifted her weight nervously and he finally opened his mouth. “You don’t actually think that, do you?”

Her features scrunched up and she kept her eyes planted on the middle of his chest. And then he realized that she, in fact, did.

“I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.” He also realized that using her to make his ex jealous would possibly hurt her more than it would help him and he could no longer fathom putting her through that. “I’ll figure it out. I’m sorry.” He moved to walk past her, back to his apartment but she stopped him before he got far.

“No… I’ll help you.” And then she realized his identity was still somewhat of a mystery to her. “This sounds even worse than what you just asked me to do, but… I completely forgot your name.”

He breathed out a laugh. “It’s Adam.”

She knew it had started with an A!

“Y/N.” 

He smiled wider and nodded. “I know.” And then his face grew sad again. “I am really sorry I’m asking you to do this on Valentine’s Day, it’s definitely not my proudest moment.”

She waved him off. “I wasn’t going to do anything anyway. Just tell me what you need me to do.” She didn’t bother brining up the whole payment thing. She didn’t really care about being paid. He was nice, the only nice person she’d encountered in her apartment building and if getting him back together with his ex meant she’d never have to come home and see him in the fetal position on the floor again, she’d suffer through a date and a party on her least favorite holiday.

It was somehow even worse than it’d been yesterday. The decorations seemed to triple in size. Not an inch of the office was untouched by something pink and she prayed whoever had put up even more decorations had spared her little cubicle.

“Oh, hey, Y/N!” One of the receptionists most responsible for the overflowing decor, Kayla, called her over to her desk not even a minute after Y/N had arrived. And she stalked over until she saw the package Kayla pulled out that instantly lifted her spirits.

She stopped in front of Kayla’s desk and took the thin box from from her, already knowing what it was and thanking god for the timing so that her entire day wasn’t completely miserable. It was a new drawing pad she’d ordered, a bigger one that she hoped would be a bit more efficient to use than her current one.

Even with her back turned to the rest of the office, she sensed Harry’s presence long before he stopped beside her with his mug in hand.

He lifted a brow at the package in Y/N’s hands just as she reluctantly turned to look at him. “Getting gifts sent to the office? That’s a first.”

She rolled her eyes and stuffed the box under her arm, holding herself back from running off to her office to set it up. “Jealous?” She cocked her head.

And instead of his condescending smirk and a hateful response to go with it, the sparkle in his eyes seemed to fade as he eyed the box again, genuinely worried now that it was actually a gift from someone. 

Before either could say anything, they all turned to find a delivery man walking up to Kayla with a giant bouquet of flowers in tow. And so it began. Although, when Kayla took the vase from the man eagerly, a bright smile on her face because Kayla loved love a little too much, Y/N couldn’t help but think about Adam. About how the only time she’d managed to get a date on Valentine’s Day was when it wasn’t even real. Instead, she’d stupidly agreed to help her cute neighbor win back his ex-girlfriend in exchange for a free dinner.

It was… pathetic. To say the least.

She felt Harry watching her, too, while she eyed the bouquet of flowers as they departed reception with Kayla and made their way to their recipient. As stupid as she found everything about the holiday, she couldn’t help but want someone to send her flowers. To give her anything for that matter. To have thought about her for at least a second of their day. Harry cleared his throat and she tore her eyes away.

“So… what’s in the box?”

“None of your business.” She rounded him, heading to her office, but he grabbed her free arm to stop her short and didn’t speak until she met his gaze again.

“Can we meet up in my office to finish the proposal? Think it’ll be easier to get it done than over email.”

She had every reason to be suspicious of him. They almost never worked in each other’s offices. When they did work together, which was often, it was in one of the empty conference rooms and it was usually at the beginning of the process when they needed the space to plan things out. The last time they’d really been in each other’s offices was last spring. Figuring he just wanted to get things done so he could be out of the office on time, she let it go.

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

He watched her walk away, watched her even as Kayla returned and noticed his gaze and giggled at him as she took her spot back behind her desk.

“It was something she ordered for herself, by the way.”

“What?” Harry whipped around again, not having even realized the other woman until now.

“I know you two pretend to hate each other but I see the way you look at her, Harry.” Kayla lifted a brow at him as she began typing on her keyboard.

He feigned disgust. “I’m seeing someone, you know.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.” He insisted. “I have a date. Tonight.”

She lifted her hands in surrender. “Okay… I’m just saying.”

“I don’t look at her.”

Kayla suppressed a smile and snorted instead. “If you say so. I guess you didn’t also sneak into her office this morning, either.”

“I think all these flowers and stuffed bears and heart-shaped things have gotten to your head.” He pointed around to the decor littering her desk while holding his mug steady.

Kayla met his eyes and her smile slipped off her face. “Harry, please don’t mess with her.”

His face screwed up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you don’t like her then don’t lead her on.”

“I don’t think she’s capable of being led on.”

Kayla froze for a moment and then nodded. “You’re right.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that either. “Why are you being weird?”

“Because,” Kayla sighed, brushing her curled brunette hair onto one shoulder and then lowered the volume of her voice. “I happen to know she doesn’t think very highly of herself and I’d rather not see her get hurt, especially not by you.”

Now Harry froze. The hand that gripped his mug tightened and he didn’t even flinch as it began to burn his skin. He heard Y/N’s voice in his head then as he drowned out his surroundings.

Some of us don’t have the luxury of choosing whomever we want.

He had instantly regretted what he’d said to her yesterday when she’d told him that. And now hearing Kayla, in a way, confirm what he’d read between the lines of Y/N’s words… his chest tightened in quite possibly the worst way ever. He’d hated himself most of the day after telling her he’d never lower his standards for her and he could say he was just bickering all he wanted, but he knew now for certain she took it the wrong way. And he wished more than ever that he hadn’t said something so horrible to her, especially when it was the farthest thing from the truth. 

And the real truth, that he was trying desperately to shove away with stupid remarks like that, was that he didn’t meet her standards. She wasn’t into relationships and he knew he wasn’t good enough to change her mind.

“How do you know that?” He finally asked.

“That Christmas party last year… she’s a really happy drunk until she’s not.”

He flinched. “Did she say something?”

“I don’t want to get into it, mostly because I don’t think she remembers and would probably kill me if I told you but… just leave her be.”

He hardened back up again. “She does’t have any interest in relationships anyway, ‘specially not with me.”

Kayla scoffed. “She’s a really good liar.”

Harry stood there for a few more moments, feeling as if his life had just gotten flipped upside down. He’d been in such a good mood mere minutes ago before his dumbass waltzed into reception all because he’d seen Y/N. Because, despite everything and despite the fact he was already attempting to date someone else, it was Y/N he wanted to be close to all the damn time. Groaning, he turned on his heel and left for his office, hoping she wasn’t there waiting for him so he could have a moment to himself to gather his thoughts.

In a hurry to open her package, Y/N slumped down into her chair tossing her purse on the ground at her feet and pulling out her box cutter in a rush of movements. She was so distracted, in fact, that she didn’t even notice the little stuffed frog, the box of chocolates and envelope sitting on the other side of her desk near her mouse. Instead, she unboxed her new tablet and began setting it up, not noticing the gifts until she went to turn on her computer. And then she froze.

With reluctant hands she grabbed the envelope first, her name printed on it in perfect cursive. She knew nobody in the office who had such good penmanship. Opening the card in hopes of finding out who had placed the items on her desk, instead, she just found it signed as ‘secret admirer.’ Rolling her eyes, she set the card down and realized it had to be from her boss. Sometimes he remembered to go around and give everyone little gifts on the holidays. Obviously he’d remembered this year. 

She dug into the chocolates as she set up her tablet and began calibrating it to suit her needs before finally testing it out in the little bit of time she had before she needed to make her way to Harry’s office. 

And once that time came, she left everything in its place, besides the box of chocolates, which she continued to pick at while she made her way through the room. What she didn’t notice while stuffing her face with candy was that… no one else had a stuffed frog or chocolates or a cheesy little card on their desks.

She rounded the corner into Harry’s office, which was a real office and not a cubicle that he usually shared with one other person who was thankfully out with clients for the day. She knocked on the doorframe to get his attention after just watching him focus on his screen for a moment. Harry was cute when he was focused.

But then he turned to her and his eyes fell to the box in her hand.

When he didn’t say anything, she held it out toward him. “Do you want some? I think Andrew was feeling generous this year.”

Harry’s eyes quickly panned up to hers and his brows furrowed as if she’d just punched him in the gut. And she couldn’t make out what that expression meant no matter how hard she tried. 

“He didn’t give me anything.” Harry motioned around his desk.

“Maybe he doesn’t like you.” She shrugged, setting the chocolates down on his desk while she grabbed his office mate’s chair and pulled it up beside him.

Harry sighed, turning to his computer for a moment and then watching her from his peripheral while she picked out another piece of chocolate. “I didn’t see anyone else with chocolates on their desks this morning.”

Y/N just shrugged. “There was a frog too. And a card.”

“And why do you think he’d give you all of that and no one else?” Harry hoped she’d get the hint but he didn’t hope too hard. She was still Y/N after all. And he really didn’t mean to sound so bitter… well, okay, he did. But he knew she’d misplace his bitterness, crushing what little hope there was to bits.

“Maybe he likes me better than all the rest of you.”

Harry scoffed, shaking his head as he put his attention back on his screen. 

“No one else in this office would give me a card signed as a secret admirer so… maybe I did something I don’t remember doing and he’s thanking me?” Now that she really thought about it, and if Harry was right… then it really didn’t make  much sense. It’s not like she was Andrew’s favorite employee.

Harry just lifted a brow and then pretended to lose all interest. 

Sensing the tension, she slipped the box closer to him. “Here. I think you need a knock-off Snickers if you expect me to work with your grumpy ass.” He made no move to indulge her, however. And so she went on, continuing to poke the bear. “Why are you in a lousy mood anyway? Isn’t this your favorite holiday? And you get to leave early.”

His eyes fell from his screen and he stared at the brick of sticky notes below his monitor before mumbling, “I’m sorry about what I said yesterday.”

Taken aback, she searched what she could see of his face for answers to what he was apologizing for. He’d said a few things she could imagine deserved an apology and yet, so did she. Maybe she should have been the one to apologize to him first.

“I didn’t mean to say what I did.” He finally turned to meet her face on. He’d hoped the frog and the chocolates would have been atonement enough, but considering she thought they were from their boss and not him, he just had to suck it up and actually say what he meant.

She shrugged. “It’s fine. I can be a prude sometimes.”

He searched her eyes for a moment and then shook his head, “No that’s not… I meant what I said earlier in your office… about lowering my standards. It was a stupid thing to say and not true in the slightest.”

But then she smiled and he grew confused. “Yes it is. It’s okay to have standards, you know.”

“I know that. But if we… I wouldn’t have to lower my standards. And it was cruel of me to have said that to you.”

She couldn’t stand looking at him any longer and averted her gaze, clearing her throat. “Well it doesn’t matter so… can we just get this proposal done?”

He’d wanted to spend how ever long it took to convince her that it did, in fact, matter, but Y/N was persistent, more so than him, and so he’d given in and they moved on to being productive with their time. And in less time than he’d anticipated their proposal was finished, being sent off to Andrew for approval before their presentation at the end of the week with their clients.

Harry sat back in his chair and she returned her own to the other desk where it belonged, all while he watched her. 

“What do you do on Valentine’s Day?” He asked, just trying to get her to stay longer, knowing that if those were his true intentions, then he was fucked. That he wanted to be around Y/N, even though he was seeing someone else, albeit for just a week so far, even though she’d never want the same from him. 

Maybe he was just as terrible with relationships as she claimed if he always chased after what he couldn’t have.

“That is also none of your business.” She grabbed her box of chocolates from his desk, his voice pinning her in place again though.

“Let me guess… it involves chocolate, your cat, and the most anti-romantic movies you can find?”

He would not think her very prudish if he knew what else she did on Valentine’s Day while alone in her apartment, but she figured it was best to keep that to herself. Instead, she smiled at him. “Something like that.”

He narrowed his eyes and threw his arms up behind his head as he laid back in his chair, watching her curiously like he was trying to figure her out. Meanwhile, she was trying to not make it obvious she was staring at his biceps as they just about bulged from underneath the sleeve of his pink button-up. He’d done it on purpose though, so as much as she tried to hide it, he still grinned with satisfaction when she became flustered.

“Well, have fun with that, then.” He nodded, and for a moment while she was lost in his eyes and growing embarrassingly hot, she wondered if he could read her mind. If he knew exactly what not-so-innocent things she did on Valentine’s Day. Then he brought his arms back down to rest his elbows on the edge of his desk, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers and watching as she rolled her eyes, held her chocolates close, and left his office. 

Adam arrived right when he said he would at five-thirty. It had given her plenty of time to change out of her work clothes and into one of the few dresses she owned, to at least seem somewhat convincing that this was a real date. She also fixed her makeup and put on a pinkish-nude lipstick before switching out her bulky purse for a smaller crossbody. 

When she opened the door to him, he most certainly did not disappoint. She almost let herself get lost in the delusion that it was a real date when she saw him dressed to the nines and cleaned up for the first time since she’d known him. And she especially got a little lost in it when he pulled a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back and handed them to her. 

“You didn’t have to—“

“I know.” He gave her a once over when she wasn’t looking. “You didn’t have to do this for me either.”

She quietly accepted the flowers and let him in while she found a vase and filled it with water. He leaned on the counter, watching her as she did so.

“You look… beautiful, by the way.” He blurted out once she had cut and placed the stems into the vase. Her hands froze, though, and when he met her eyes, he knew he’d made a mistake.

“You’re paying me to make your ex-girlfriend jealous. Please don’t flatter me.”

“Sorry.” He muttered, although he was beginning to wonder if the bigger mistake was not taking her out on a proper date that had nothing to do with his ex. 

She sighed and adjusted the strap of her purse. “Let’s go then.”

He went over all the final details on the Uber ride to the restaurant. Things about his ex he thought Y/N should know about. And he made sure she knew, for about the hundredth time, that she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. And she reminded him for an equal amount of times that she never did anything she didn’t want to do. So, settling that, he helped her out of the back of the Uber when they arrived and opened the door to the restraint for her as well. Everything that she’d expect from a normal date, which only left her disappointed when she reminded herself it wasn’t.

She waited quietly, and tried to catch her nerves, while Adam talked to the hostess and gave her his ex’s name for the reservation. The place was packed and anyone who didn’t call ahead surely would not be getting a table tonight. She’d never been out on Valentine’s Day, though, so it was like stepping into a brand new world for her. And as she followed both the hostess and Adam, she paid more attention to all the couples enjoying their meals than anything else.

Except for when he reached back and grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers just before they came to a stop. She blinked her eyes at their hands for just a moment before he gently pulled her around next to him. And whatever way she’d felt about holding Adam’s hand went right out the window when she locked eyes with Harry.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

The last thing she expected to find, while Laura, the gorgeous blonde ex-girlfriend, stood to hug Adam, was Harry fucking Styles. And what a fucking coincidence it was, almost as if this was her karma for feeling the need to constantly help people. 

Adam’s hand slipped from hers but she didn’t even notice it anyway. She and Harry still stared each other down and neither of them moved a muscle either. Well, besides the one in his jaw as it tightened. Then he did move, glancing over at Adam with a blank expression before landing his gaze back on her again. And then his eyes fell to the glass of water in front of him and she felt like she’d been released from chains he’d tied around her wrists.

“This is Y/N,” Adam’s hand went to the small of her back, guiding her forward to meet his ex-girlfriend and Harry’s current… whatever they were. 

Laura held out her hand, her smile a little too forced. “Laura. It’s nice to meet you. Please, sit.” She ushered them to the table as she took her spot beside Harry again. Adam, of course, took the chair opposite Laura, which left Y/N in the one opposite Harry. 

This would be a long, hellish night.

She couldn’t help but wonder what Harry was thinking. That maybe she’d come to crash his date. Or, even worse, that he’d already figured the whole thing out. That Adam was paying her to be here. She really hoped he’d never find out because it was just embarrassing enough to make her want to change her name and move across the country, thousands of miles away from him. Harry finding out that she couldn’t get a real date to save her life… beyond humiliating.

“This is Harry.” Laura motioned to him and he just barely lifted his gaze, nodding at Adam and ignoring Y/N entirely. “You know,” the blonde went on, glancing between Adam and Y/N, “I was a little shocked when you told me you were seeing someone again.”

Adam just shrugged.

“How did you guys meet?” 

Y/N left all the talking to him. Mostly because she was still in shock that she was sitting across from Harry. And she hadn’t even taken the time to properly take him in and realized he’d also changed his clothes since work. Swapping his wardrobe out for a fitted black button-up, that wasn’t buttoned all the way to the top as his shirts normally were. The sleeves were already rolled to his elbows. He’d shaved off the scruff along his jaw as well and fixed his hair so that it was combed back out of his face, although a a couple rebellious strands hung down onto his forehead. He looked… like absolute perfection. And he was being forced to be on a date with the ex-boyfriend of the girl he was seeing and his annoying co-worker. She felt terrible for him.

“Oh, uh, well we live on the same floor.”

Laura nodded, clearly anticipating more. “Is that it?”

Y/N felt Adam tense up beside her and so she took over, easily spinning a lie. “I ran out of milk one night a few weeks ago. He’s the only one who answered the door.”

She noticed a flash of movement in her peripheral and turned to find Harry’s gaze on her again, one eyebrow lifted curiously. He was either wondering how she hid it so well, or trying to figure out what to ask in order to reveal their ploy. He never said anything, though.

“Sorry, um,” Laura’s tone changed as she glanced between Harry and Y/N, both of them looking away when the other girl interrupted. “Do you two know each other?”

Harry grinned, sitting back against his seat and folding his hands in his lap. “Something like that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We work together.”

“Really?” Although her tone said otherwise, Laura’s face said everything about how she felt upon hearing that bit of information. 

Adam twisted his worrisome gaze to Y/N, but she ignored it. Harry, however, did not.

“Don’t worry, mate. I was under the impression she was celibate up until now.” With that, Y/N kicked him under the table and he sat forward to swallow the groan that very nearly left his lips after she’d jabbed him in the shin with the toe of her heels. “Guess she’s really good at hiding things, though.”

Adam just chuckled nervously and Y/N shot him an apologetic smile, trying to reassure him that this date would still work out despite Harry. 

“What a small world.” Laura laughed, trying to break the tension but dinner hadn’t even started yet. 

Sometime during the main course, Laura excused herself to the bathroom and Y/N almost, in a desperate attempt to flee both Adam and Harry, invited herself along. But she figured it’d be worse to be alone with Laura than with them. Laura might ask questions she wasn’t prepared for. So, she stayed put, as much as it pained her to do so.

“So, Adam, what do you do for a living?” Harry asked suddenly and she wanted to kick him again. Mostly because his tone was that of a jealous teenager and he’d waited until Laura was gone to pester her ex-boyfriend who most certainly did not deserve Harry’s pestering.

“Oh, uh, I’m an artist. I work for an animation studio at the moment but I’m trying to get into freelance.”

Harry’s eyes shot to the suspiciously quiet girl sitting across from him. “So is Y/N.”

Adam turned to look at her, but she just glared at Harry. “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

Harry titled his head as he narrowed his attention in on Adam again. “So you’ve known her for a few weeks and you never asked what she did?”

“Harry.” Y/N warned, trying to kick him under the table again but he dodged out of the way.

“Well… she said she was in graphic design… not art.” She had told him that, during their crash course yesterday while they got to know as much as they could about each other in a span of a couple hours.

“I think it’s the same thing.”

Adam just shrugged. “I guess. I don’t think I could be a designer, though. Most artists make what they think looks good, designers create things to appeal to customers.”

“Just ignore him.” Y/N advised and Harry was the one shooting her daggers and attempting to stomp his foot on top of hers under the table this time.

“You and Laura used to date then? She never told me how you split up.” Harry moved on.

Adam swallowed nervously. “She broke up with me.”

“Why?” Harry pushed and Y/N looked at him like she wanted to kill him, which he ignored.

“I, uh… I had a drug problem for a while. I was not the best person to be around sometimes. But after we broke up, she helped me with rehab and everything.”

“Guess that explains why you’re on such good terms.”

Now Y/N really wanted to do more than just kick him. 

Adam grabbed Y/N’s hand under the table and pulled her straight from her violent thoughts about Harry. And he didn’t lace his fingers between hers, instead, it felt as if he had just been looking for something to ground himself with. And her hand resting on her lap was the closest thing he could find. It didn’t, however, go unnoticed by Harry and his jaw clenched as he stared at the point in the table where, just below, there their hands met almost as if he was trying to set everything on fire.

Laura returned shortly after that. 

As promised, Adam paid the entirety of both his and Y/N’s bill, even though she attempted to snag it from him, seeing as the date had gone to shit and it was all her fault. Well… maybe it was also Harry’s fault a little bit too. But she definitely did nothing to make Laura jealous. Adam, on the other hand, did a great job at making Harry jealous just by existing and being Laura’s ex, whom she was still friends with. 

The four of them stood outside on the curb awaiting their Uber after dinner was over, agreeing upon splitting one car to get to the party instead of taking two. Laura was apparently very cautious about fossil fuel consumption.

Y/N shivered as she stood between Adam and Laura, wishing she’d bright a jacket instead of relying on a long-sleeve dress to keep her warm. Then an arm wrapped around her shoulders and Adam pulled her close, running his hand up and down her arm to form heat. She tensed up, though, forming into an immovable brick. She had no idea the last time she’d been that close to another person, let alone a member of the opposite sex. When he felt her go rigid, he leaned down until his lips were at her ear. “Is this okay?”

She just nodded and tried to relax. Which turned out to be quite easy because Adam was warm and he smelled nice. She, of course, didn’t let her mind wander off too far. He was still in love with his ex. He’d still shove cash into her hand at the end of the night for her troubles and go on with his life.

Adam let go of her when the car pulled up and quickly went to the passenger door to confirm with the driver. Then he opened the back door for the three of them to climb in, Laura going first, then Harry, and, at last, Y/N, while Adam slipped into the front seat beside the driver.

While the car took off, Y/N was shoved into the corner when Harry moved closer to her in order to find both his and Laura’s seat buckles in the dark. Eventually, he settled back into the middle and gave her some space again. When she made no move to do the same as them, Harry turned to look down at her. 

“Put your seatbelt on.” He whispered.

Her eyes whirled up to his. Wordlessly, and of course after rolling her eyes, she grabbed her seatbelt and he made room for her to buckle it in. Then she sat back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest while she stared out at the traffic through her window.

She would have stayed in that exact position the entire trip, too, if Harry’s knee didn’t insist on bumping into hers constantly. And she couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose or not.

When she glanced up at him, and found the corner of his lips curl upward, she figured it was, in fact, purposeful. So, with the hand closest to him as her arms were still crossed, she poked him in the side, right against his ribs, hoping it hurt.

“Ouch.” He whined, covering the spot with his hand dramatically. Everyone in the car glanced at Harry, all except for Y/N who snickered as she returned to staring out the window.

Harry wasn’t giving up, though. This time, with his arms crossed in his lap, and glancing at Laura to be sure she wasn’t watching, he walked his pointer and middle finger up the outside of Y/N’s thigh, close enough to her hip to make her squirm slightly when his touch tickled her. And as soon as he got her attention, he looked down at what he was doing and pressed his middle finger against her, meeting her gaze with a smirk.

In the same moment, the driver turned up the music in the car as they waited tirelessly at a red light. It was better than silence or listening to his passengers breathing. But Harry mentally thanked him and turned his attention back to Y/N, leaning into her slightly until his lips were at her ear and she shivered for an all new reason.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before.” He whispered for her ears only. The music was especially loud in the back and he wasn’t sure Y/N had even heard him.

Especially since she didn’t respond right away. But how could she? Harry’s fingertips were still grazing her thigh, as if trying to emphasize the dress she had on. And his stupid knee was pressed right up against hers. She couldn’t think straight.

Though when she finally turned to him and whispered back, “Don’t get used to it,” he knew she had, in fact, heard him well enough. 

He leaned again, “Afraid I already am.” 

She hated that there were butterflies in her stomach. That he was saying such odd things to her when his date was sitting just on the other side of him. The date who most definitely met all Harry’s standards.

Huddling away from him, she stuck her eyes out the window and kept them there the rest of the trip.

It was just past eight when they arrived, a fifteen-minute trip up through the city taking half an hour due to all the Valentine’s Day traffic. Another reason she hated this holiday.

The party was being held by Laura’s best friend, who’s name Y/N did not care to commit to memory. In the elevator ride up to the penthouse, though, Harry stood close to Laura, his arm wrapped around her waist and Adam to Y/N, although he didn’t touch her. She wouldn’t have minded if he did, but she figured it was best to keep those boundaries in place anyway.

Pink and golden balloons littered the ceilings of the penthouse. The drink cups were also pink, as was the communal punch bowl that Y/N steered clear of, having no idea what was in it, or who had already spiked it. She knew nobody at the party besides who she’d come with, though she assumed both Adam and Harry were somewhat acquainted with Laura’s friends. 

It was most definitely not someplace Y/N ever saw herself being at, not only because it was a Valentine’s themed party, but also because she wasn’t exactly comfortable around so many people. Especially when those people were all so unfamiliar to her.

“Here,” Adam handed her a drink and then grabbed one for himself. She downed the thing in one go, needing to take the edge off. It might’ve been a slight mistake when the alcohol burned the back of her throat, but she didn’t care too much when she grabbed another.

Then he was leading her into the dancing pit of bodies where they huddled close enough so that his lips were at her ear. “Is it alright if I touch you?”

She glanced over at where Laura and Harry had been left, finding both her hazel eyes and Harry’s green ones glued to the both of them. She wasn’t sure what Harry’s deal was, but this was her moment to fix things and make Laura jealous, so, turning back to Adam, she nodded.

He eased his hands onto her waist as they began swaying to the music. And then he pulled her closer, his hands slipping to the small of her back as her arms wrapped around his neck, being careful with her own movements even though she desperately wanted to sink her hands in his hair.

And, god, he smelled so good as her head rested in the crook of his neck. And he felt good, too, as he moved against her body. She knew it wasn’t real, and that the alcohol was making skewing her perception of things, but it was still nice. Nice to be held and to just let go for a change.

Over Adam’s shoulder, Y/N caught Harry’s eyes again. His jaw clenched and he looked the same as he did back at the restaurant. Angry. And then she realized that maybe she wasn’t really trying to make Laura jealous anymore at all, but rather Harry.

It was dumb, she knew that. He’d have to like her in order for her to make him jealous. But… the way he was looking at her. The way he had looked at her. His eyes lingering too long on her lips. What he’d done in the car ride here. 

She heard Adam in her ear again. “I think it’s working. She just stormed off into the kitchen.” Then he pulled away and she realized she hadn’t even seen Laura. Just Harry. Harry and his stupid, obnoxious green eyes.

“You owe me more than just dinner.” Y/N teased but Adam grew serious.

“I know. And since you refuse to accept my money, I’ll have to figure out another way to repay you.” He smiled and then twirled her around so that she no longer had any line of sight toward Harry. He pulled her close again, one hand going to her waist while the other stayed locked to one of hers. “Suppose I could start with making your coworker just as jealous… although I think he already is.”

Confusion flooded her features as she peered up at him. 

“Oh, come on! He was ready to rip my head off when he realized I’d grabbed your hand. And when I put my arm around you? I thought I might be better off just giving you my jacket and freezing to death instead.”

“I don’t…” she shook her head in disbelief. It was one thing for her to be pretending to make Harry jealous in some delusional hope that it’d work. But this… this was a whole other thing.

“I’m actually quite interested to see what he does if I kissed you.”

She was shocked at first and then, possibly due to the alcohol, just as interested. “Are you asking my permission?”

“Are you saying yes?”

Y/N hesitated. “Is she back?”

Adam’s eyes scanned the room and Y/N realized he hadn’t asked to kiss her for Laura’s sake at all.

“She is.” He finally announced. 

Without any more second guessing, Y/N’s hand slipped to the back of his neck and pulled him in. As soon as their lips collided and she tasted the alcohol on him, she knew that she’d never agreed to this without it. Or maybe she would. Adam spun them back around again, deepening the kiss as her eyes opened and fell into the direction she’d last seen Harry.

He was still there.

Still watching.

His hands in fists. His jaw tightened into a crisp line. His nostrils flared. His eyes… sad.

She pulled away. Adam steadied her, grabbing her shoulders when she swayed. But, as she caught her breath, the dizziness went away. 

“I’m going to find the bathroom.” She told him and after he nodded, she left, forming a rift for herself through the bodies that danced all around them until she was in the clear. Then she was avoiding Harry as she walked past him, not so sure his gaze was still set on her. Maybe she’d gone too far. She didn’t often just kiss people for no good reason and that’s exactly what she’d just done with Adam. She barely even knew him.

She didn’t exactly need the bathroom, just an open, empty and quiet place. And so, she fell back against a wall in the foyer and ran a hand through her hair.

“That was quite the show.”

She startled at the sound of his familiar voice and looked up just as he stopped a few feet away from her. “What are you talking about?”

He lifted a brow. “You expect me to believe that that you, anti everything to do with this holiday and with relationships and romance, are actually dating that guy?”

“Is it that hard to believe?” She crossed her arms, willing to go as far as she needed to before she let Harry see the truth. That she was that pathetic. 

“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate to respond and she flinched.

“Well, I’m sorry that you have a hard time believing that someone may actually like me.” She had no reason to nearly be shouting at him and no reason to be saying what she was because Adam didn’t like her.

“That’s not what I said. It’s hard for me to believe you just dropped all your ideas about relationships for some guy with obnoxious blue eyes.”

“I didn’t.”

“So then what is this?”

Y/N hesitated. Hating that the truth was about to boil over out of her mouth for him to see all the embarrassing bits of it, but she had no other way of convincing him. And it didn’t really help that Adam was so far out of her league that it wasn’t even convincing to begin with. Nor did she want to convince Harry of anything either. It was clear now that he hadn’t been jealous, he was just trying to figure out when she stopped hating relationships so much.

And the truth of that was she never really hated them. It was just easier telling herself she didn’t want it than admitting no one ever actually wanted her.

She trembled, not even sure why, but he was making her incredibly nervous, so much that she wished she could rewind and stay squished next to him in the back of the car forever. Being that close to him... his stupid fingers on her thigh, whispering things in her ear that made her head spin. She’d much prefer that than standing in front of him now, seeing every ounce of judgment he was about to throw her way.

“What do you want me to say, Harry?” She shrugged and dropped her eyes to the white marble floors between them, focusing on calming her anxiety while she was no longer looking at him. “He needed a date and I felt bad for him.”

“What does that mean?”

Letting her head fall back against the wall, she stared up at the ceiling this time as her eyes burned with embarrassment. “He paid me to be his date so his ex-girlfriend didn’t find out he wasn’t actually seeing anyone. That’s what it means.”

Harry didn’t say anything.

“So, yeah.” She folded her arms, looking down at the floor again, still unable to meet Harry’s eyes and see the look that would be on his face. A smirk of amusement at her expense. Even probably his dimples, taunting her and turning her into the joke she already was. “You were right. I can’t find anyone to tolerate me, which is why I’m on this stupid date that isn’t even real.”

“Him kissing you seemed quite real to me.”

There was more exasperation than humor to her laugh. “It wasn’t.”

Harry seemed to finally understand. “He’s trying to make Laura jealous.”

Y/N just nodded. “I promise I didn’t know you were going to be there, that he was trying to get her back from you.”

“You still kissed him though.”

She couldn’t argue that, nor could she tell him the real reason she’d agreed to the kiss. That it wasn’t exactly Laura she was trying to make jealous. She’d never live that one down, if she ever managed to live any other aspect of this night down.

When she didn’t say anything, he stepped closer. “Why did you kiss him?”

“I’m sorry, Harry I just... I don’t know.”

He shook his head and took another step, making her eyes widen when he was close enough that she had to crane her head back to meet his gaze. “Seemed like you were trying to make me jealous.”

She swallowed, not exactly in the position to laugh it off and argue with him when he was this close and all she could feel were the traces of his fingertips on her thigh. Her voice was quiet when it finally came out. “Making you jealous would mean I assumed you liked me in the first place... which I’m definitely not stupid enough to assume.”

A crease formed between his brow and his stupidly perfect jaw hardened as if he was biting his tongue from saying something. And fuck him for choosing then to finally stop opening his mouth.

Just then, a pair of drunk guys, one on the other’s back, came racing through the foyer, screaming at the top of their lungs while a few others followed quickly after them. It was enough to force Harry away from Y/N again, enough for the both of them to step out of the little bubble they’d been in together the past ten minutes.

Once they were alone again, their eyes gravitated toward each other and just when she thought Harry might say something after all, he flipped around on his heel and left. And she watched as he turned the corner and mixed back into the party.

After a few moments to gather herself, she followed him, not exactly sure what she was going to do now that Harry wouldn’t talk to her and it felt weird being with Adam while Harry knew everything. But, whatever plans to keep herself occupied no longer matted when she spotted Laura.

Making out with Adam in the middle of the room. 

Without even thinking, she turned to locate Harry and he might as well have been a source of gravity because her eyes fell right to him within a second. And he was watching them too. He knew. 

He met Y/N’s eyes and she wasn’t quite sure if he was upset or not. She couldn’t really read anything on his face, and stopped attempting to when he moved towards her and she had other things on her mind, like where he was going and if he was going to bother taking her with him.

Shortly after he stormed past Y/N she made sure he wasn’t going to leave her behind and chased after him. She didn’t know Adam very well and definitely not Laura to want to stay with them. And everyone else in the room were complete strangers to her. Adam had promised he’d take her home, but he probably hadn’t expected to be making out with his ex by the end of the night, either.

Harry didn’t say anything, not even when they’d reached the foyer and Y/N asked where he was going. He just located his jacket and slipped it on before making his way out the front door.

And right when she thought he really was going to leave her behind, since she was the reason he’d just lost Laura to her ex, he held the door open and glanced over his shoulder at her while she still stood on the other side of the threshold.

“Are you staying?”

Without a word, she sprung into motion and trailed right behind him into the hallway like a lost puppy, letting the door shut behind her that cut them off from the music as it faded into the background behind them.

It was a silent trip down the elevator, mostly because she had no idea what to say that would sound sincere and he didn’t say anything at all. At least not until she followed him through the lobby until he stopped on the curb just outside the main doors.

She took up the spot next to him, eyes glued to the side of his face as he took in a deep breath of fresh air, or at least as fresh as traffic allowed it to be.

Then he spoke, and it seemed like the first time she’d heard his voice all night. “I’m the one who gave you the chocolates and the frog.”

She narrowed her eyes, both not exactly sure why he’d just said that or if he was even being serious. “What?”

He looked down at her. “It wasn’t Andrew, it was me.”

“Why?” She breathed and while she was positive she’d be freezing cold soon, the fresh air after being surrounded by so many people felt good. It felt freeing and she wondered if he felt that way too.

His eyes scanned hers before he looked away. “Well partly to apologize for what I said.”

“What’s the other part?”

Sighing, he turned his entire body to face her now. “Something else entirely…” He trailed off, only confusing her more as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared at his feet. “I didn’t tell you because I know you don’t like all this stuff, but seeing you with him tonight... I wish I had.” 

“It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a frog.”

He shook his head, grinning. “It’s not just a frog, Y/N... because the thing is,” he paused to catch his breath, “I’ve been in love with you for... a really long time… since last spring. But with you being the way that you are, I never thought you’d feel the same way.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it.

“And then you come in with that guy and...” He pulled his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more jealous in my life... because all this time I thought you weren’t interested in relationships, but you just weren’t interested in me.”

Inhaling, she summoned every ounce of courage she could fathom. “You were right about why I kissed Adam.” He lifted a brow, waiting for her elaboration which never came. “You were right about other things, too. I wish I had someone to come home to almost every single night I got to bed alone. No one—“ She cut herself off, trembling again as tears stung her eyes. “I pretend not to be interested so I can ignore the fact that no one’s ever wanted me.”

“That’s not true.” He had that same look on his face as before, when she’d told him she wasn’t stupid enough to think he liked her.

She just nodded. “And I’m sorry but... why would you want me when you could have someone like Laura?”

“Y/N...” He huffed and stepped closer to her, the heat from his body making her shiver. “This is not the first time I started seeing someone to get over you... in fact, all my relationships since I met you have been shit.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Well you’re very anti-relationships so I think I was justified in wanting to avoid you rejecting me… especially since we work together and it would have been really awkward.”

“I don’t, uh... I...” She stammered, not really sure what to say to him even though her heart was screaming at her in full volume. 

He held his breath and then, in almost a whisper, “Is this the inevitable rejection?”

“No.” She didn’t even hesitate that time and at this point, her mind no longer controlled the words coming out of her mouth as she let another organ finally speak for itself. “No, I liked you the second I saw you, Harry... and at no point tonight was I ever trying to make Laura jealous.”

The corners of his mouth began to curl into a smile. “That was very cruel of you to do to me.”

“I didn’t think you liked me at all twenty minutes ago, Harry.”

“Twenty minutes ago,” he fully invaded all of her space now, leaving the smallest gap between their bodies as he could get away with, lifting his hand to her jaw and rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “I was still on this date with the wrong person.” 

“I think the date is over now.”

“No,” his eyes fell to her lips just like they had before. “It’s not.” 

“You’re looking at me like that again.” She mumbled, out of breath.

He lifted a brow and didn’t once remove his eyes from her lips. “Like what?”

“Like…” she trailed off, not having the courage to say it in case she wasn’t right. 

“Like I’ve wanted to kiss you for a very long time and I’m tired of pretending?” 

“Something like that, yeah.”

He grinned, both of his dimples making an appearance just before he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. And once her brain realized what was happening, she sunk right into him, letting his arm wrap around her waist as his other hand tangled its way into her hair to bring her closer. She threw her arms over his shoulders and he hunched lower to meet her. She staggered back a step when he did, nearly losing her balance but he caught her instantly and then drew his lips back as he laughed.

“This is not how I expected tonight to end.” She couldn’t help but think the way he struggled to catch his breath was possibly the hottest he’d ever been. Not to mention the tiny bit of her lipstick smeared on his face. She could look at him just the way he was right there and then for days and be perfectly satisfied.

“It doesn’t have to end yet.” She fully blamed her sudden burst of confidence on the cold, but refreshing February night. And maybe she also just wanted to get out of it before it caught up to her and she would, yet again, regret not having a jacket.

“Oh?” She wanted to smack the mischievous smirk off his face and leave him there on the curb. “And here I thought you were a prude.”

“You thought a lot of things about me that weren’t true, Harry.”

He thought about that for a moment and after realizing she was right, he then wondered just how wrong he was when he’d called her celibate. “I suppose… I’d quite like to find out just how wrong I was.” He slipped a loose strand of her hair back behind her ear, which is where his lips ended up as he whispered softly, “And I’d also quite like to show you just how wrong you were about me not liking you.”

They stumbled into her bedroom in the dark, Pretzel racing out between their twisted feet in a hurry, screeching at them in the process. Harry giggled against her lips, “Your cat sounds friendly.” 

“Well, since I was supposed to be spending tonight with her, and chocolate, and anti-romantic movies…” She pulled away from him, watching as his smile spread further. Maybe she could actually believe he’d been in love all this time. 

“Right… I’d be upset too.” 

She shook her head and kissed him again, then pulled back a second later. “You know that’s not actually what I do on Valentine’s Day.”

He lifted a brow and waited for her to explain but she didn’t.

“And what is it that you do, then?” He finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him, although he had some inkling as to what she was talking about.

Her smile was devoid of innocence as her hands fell to his belt. Harry’s shirt had already been lost to the kitchen floor. Her dress hardly covering what it was supposed to once Harry had gotten his hands on it. 

“Maybe you’ll get to find out.” 

When she brought her lips back to his, after undoing the buckle just under his navel, he spun them around and led her backwards to the bed. He wasn’t sure how far it was, but hoped he was headed in the right direction. And because of that, when her knees did finally bend over the mattress, he practically came flying down on top of her. 

She squirmed out from under him, crawling back towards the pillows as she watched him at the end of the bed while he stood and removed his belt completely, trying not to drool at the sight of him. At the sight of Harry, her fucking annoying ass, perfect, beautiful, coworker standing shirtless at the end of her bed where he was also about to be…

He pushed his trousers down off his hips and they fell to the floor with ease, almost with the same amount of ease that her eyes fell to the tight boxer-briefs he wore underneath. She swallowed as he adjusted the waistband back into place, quite certain that, even in the low light, her eyes were not deceiving her.

The bed shifted at her feet as he joined her, and then it took all her willpower to not fling herself at him as he crawled up the length of her. As he settled himself between her thighs and she felt every last, very hard, inch of him pressed against her. She couldn’t be blamed for the whining moan that she let out in his ear as his lips became familiar with the shape and taste of her neck. She also couldn’t be blamed when her hips instinctively collided with his.

He just giggled again and shook his head, the loose strands of his curls tickling her forehead. “Easy now.” He warned in a hushed mumble, his lips vibrating right against the vein in her neck that pulsed so much faster the more his free hand began to wander up underneath her dress.

He left her speechless for multiple reasons, but the main one was when she felt his fingers tracing down her thigh and then, moments later, after he shifted his weight and used his knees to keep her legs open, she sucked in a breath of air as she felt him pressed against her clit, forcing her nails to dig into his back but he didn’t seem to mind.

Coming back down to kiss her, he began moving his hand in expert little circles, grinning against her mouth every time her body begged him for more. It wasn’t long that he complied, either, when he sat back on his knees between her legs and tugged her underwear off for good, throwing it to the depths of her bedroom floor. He wouldn’t have known where they landed even if he tried because his gaze belong to her only as he lowered himself to his elbows before her, kissing his way up her thighs until he reached her center.

When she squirmed away from him, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and pressed his hands into her hips after gently moving her dress out of the way. 

“You know when we used to stay late at the office working?” He asked suddenly and the heat of his voice against her made her squirm again, but he held on tight. “And you would get sick of sitting in an office chair and made me promise not to tell Jim when you sat on his desk instead?” She had no clue where he was going with it, but still, she nodded. “Every single time I turned to look at you, I thought about doing this.” Before she could get words out or even a coherent thought, she felt his tongue on her. And this time when she jerked against him, she nearly slipped out of his hold until he grabbed her again and pulled her back down, digging himself further into her as she struggled to breathe properly.

She dug her fingers into his hair when he brought her close to the edge and showed no mercy. And somehow, she’d managed to get the sole of her foot up onto his shoulder in order to kick him away, but it didn’t matter much because he never budged. Not that she wanted him to, but he just felt so good… 

“Harry!” She shouted, pulling at his hair and making matters worse for herself when he moaned against her sensitive bundle of nerves. He let her come, never once lifting his mouth from her even as her hips jerked off the mattress and she very nearly pulled his hair out. When she stopped screaming, her voice caught in her throat because she was lost to her own orgasm, is when he lifted his mouth, replaced it with his fingers and watched her as she came down. As her eyes fluttered shut and her chest heaved, her lungs struggling to get oxygen back into her system. Her hold on him loosened as she came undone around him, melting into his hands it seemed like.

And when he began rubbing his index and middle finger into her, once she was far and beyond overstimulated, and he knew that, she reached down with a whine and grabbed his wrist with what little strength she had in her and pulled him away. His hand fell to the other side of her hip, which he used to his advantage to pull himself up over her again, his other hand taking her dress with it until he was able to tug it over her head and toss it. Then he came back down to kiss her, letting her taste herself on her lips. He rubbed his thumb across her cheek and when he pulled away, found her looking at him finally. Although it was with heavy lids as she still struggled to regain her bearings.

Before they could get much further, a loud crashing sound from the other room made both of them nearly jump out of their skin. She shot up instantly, grabbing hold of Harry’s bicep before moving him out of the way and sliding off the edge of the bed. 

“It’s just the cat.” Harry would have probably said the same thing even if it was not just the cat, he’d say anything just to get her to stay with him.

“I know but it sounded like…” her voice trailed off as her feet hit the floor and the moment she went to stand on her own two legs, her knees buckled. He reached to grab her waist but she righted herself before he could. She didn’t see the way he hid his cheeky smirk at the fact that he’d been so good, she was still dizzy.

“You good?” He asked as she stumbled her way into a shirt. With only a groan in response, and what he was sure was her middle finger, she left him alone in her bed to investigate the noise. Sighing, he laid on his back and got comfortable amongst her pillows. And after about three minutes, decided to locate the remote to her TV to entertain himself. 

He flipped onto his side and felt around her bedside table, but his fingers never landed on anything remote-like. So, frustrated, he reached up and switched the lamp on. Again, he found nothing. Looking further, he realized the table had a drawer and so he pulled it open in hopes of finding the damned remote before she got back. 

But what he found instead was so much better than turning on late night news.

“Fucking cat knocked over my vase.” Y/N was back within ten minutes. Harry had left the light on, but made sure it wasn’t obvious he’d gone snooping into her drawer, at least not yet anyway. She crawled back into bed beside him and it was then he noticed the bandage on her thumb.

“Are you alright?” He forgot all about what he planned to tease her with when he gently grabbed her hand to inspect the damage.

“Yeah. I was in a bit of hurry trying to clean up the glass…” 

Harry rolled his eyes and dropped her hand. “I would have come help you.”

She just smiled up at him as he fit his arm around her shoulders, his bicep under her neck. “That’s alright.”

He shrugged. “It was for the best anyways that I didn’t.” When he smirked, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

“And why’s that?”

She followed his other hand as he reached for something and then, moments later, it reappeared with a very familiar pink object clutched in his grasp. “Because then I wouldn’t have found this.”

Her first reaction was to pry it from his snooping fingers, but when she reached across him to grab it, he way too easily held her back and, at the same time, held it far out of her reach. 

“So this is what you do on Valentine’s Day, then?” He flicked his wrist back and forth, waving her vibrator in the air as he taunted her.

“If you don’t give that back to me,” she reached for it again to no prevail, “you won’t be doing anything, least of all, me.”

He clicked his tongue. “Why would I give it back when I plan on using it?”

She froze and he chuckled at her reaction.

“Would be rude of me to break your traditions, wouldn’t it?” 

She swallowed, her eyes slowly meeting his again. The appearance of his right dimple told her he wasn’t playing any games. She had no idea how many times he planned to make her come tonight or whether or not she’d even be able to walk tomorrow at work. But, given the stupid look on his face, she almost began making plans to call out sick instead.

“Do you actually know how to use that thing?” She finally asked, glancing at the wand still held very firmly in his hand.

He looked at her like she was crazy moments before he pivoted and pinned her onto her back, settling himself into the position they’d been in before the interruption of the cat. 

Just, this time… he was clicking on her vibrator and watching her face as she began to regret her words. 

“‘Course I know how to use it. The real question is,” he brought his lips to her ear, the soft vibrations and the sound of his voice mixing together like sin itself. Even more so when he nipped at her earlobe. “Do you know how to handle it?”

[salt-volk]

i'm on prob permanent hiatus so i'm not here to salt at the event itself because i don't know enough about it, but i feel like the randomized team choice is just another example of dv not really caring about being an rpg if that makes sense? i get that it's for balancing, but i think another solution could've been reached, as already posed in the news comments. it seems to be rubbing folks the wrong way and i understand why! as surrounded by tedious tasks and stat gates as it is, 3's forest was my fav main questline to play through because it did feel like you were actively bonding with and supporting one of the npcs, whereas other town's "choose between these npcs" options felt like they changed way less of how that town progressed imo. like i actively care about the witch i chose! i formed as much of a bond as is possible on dv! i spent a year negging the other two!

i know not everyone feels this way and who knows, maybe it comes off a little silly; i just feel like especially in the context of a forest-wide war that will end in permanent content, taking away the player's agency to choose to support who they've supported from early in the game is... a weird move for a site that's in any way trying to be an immersive game where you care about the characters and lore. (also yeah the reroll is there but man how much of this site needs to be rng-based y'know? all 3 of my rolls got me the 2 witches i was negging. rip.)

.

[rightsockjin]

Timbs part 2

Hello beautiful people! Merry Christmas and Happy holidays! Since this blog has grown so much even during the time of our temporary hiatus, and this story (Timbs from the dynamite series) continues to get attention, I thought that I'd listen and write a part two! Happy Christmas Y'all! Also, I do want to address some stuff that is in this pic. First off, as a group, the writers at right sock decided to give each member of BTS a permanent girlfriend. So basically, nicknames which will make it easier to refer to other girls. This is the first real place you will see that. Y/N is nicknamed Bunny in this. But Y/N is used as well. Just incase it confused you.

Anyway! On to what we all came here for!

Summary: After your last encounter with your best friend and the words exchanged, you aren't sure where you stand... but maybe you should focus on where you lay...

Rating: M! Big M!

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff. All the good stories are hehe.

word count: Drum roll please....7,378!

Warnings: Stalking, being eaten out, mentions of blowjobs, kink talk. someone walks in during the deed....kinda. Jealousy. General meanness. Naked people y'all. nipple stuff. I think that’s all??

Part one

Master list

He closed the door behind him. It thudded thickly in the small apartment of his that you frequented. It was in the same state as you had seen it the last time you had been over. Boxes were still packed, dust covered the old furniture, save for the couch that had been a combined gift from all of his friends as he was the last to move out, that had come with the appartnemnt appartment, and heaps of bubble wrap and packing peanuts littered the floor. You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes.

Your nose itched and you could feel a sneeze coming on. With a slight shake of your head, you looked over your shoulder and gave your best friend the look. Eyebrows slightly raised at the center, a light smile teased your nude, mint chapstick coated lips. A hint of incredulity mixed with “really?” and some other emotion that you tried to snuff out completely. Something akin to fondness perhaps?

Jungkook had his black shirt covered back to you. His hair was grazing his lower ears and lightly ruffled as he turned to look at you after checking that the door had indeed locked as he forgot to lock his door constantly which made no sense because it was an automatic lock, but somehow, he had already gotten people accidentally walking in on him in less than opportune moments. Namely, this girl who lived near by was always accidentally walking into his apartment thinking it was hers, but you surmised that she couldn’t possibly be that stupid and was coming in purly because she thought Jungkook was cute and single.

You knew this because one time, you had been over and she “accidentally” walked in while Jungkook was in the restroom with a cute little confused face on which fell as soon as she saw you lounging on the couch eating a particularly stringy mango. She stumbled through an awkward apology before quickly closing the door and going to her actual apartment.

But Jungkook was convinced that she was just very lost and very new to the building. You couldn’t bear to break it to him. Or maybe you didn’t want him to realize that she most likely had a crush on him. A creepy, stalkery crush… maybe you should tell him...

Jungkook’s mask sat slightly under his nose. His eyes widened when he noticed you staring, completely zoned out from your light flashback. He blinked in confusion, frozen for a second before he slowly crossed his arms and raised his own eyebrows at you.

You shook your head and scrunched your eyebrows at him then. Your hands held up in question. A stance that clearly said “what are you looking at me like that for? I’m the one judging you here.”

Again, with mirth in his eyes and his nose scrunched slightly, signaling that he was smiling under his face cover, he mimicked your stance. He leaned down slightly to get on your level. His mistake. You would think he’d learn by now.

You smacked the side of his head lightly enough that you were sure it didn’t hurt but also hard enough to get him out of this weird theater mirror exercise thing he was doing.

“Ow? What the fuck, Bunny,” he questioned, closing one eye tightly and rubbing the spot on his head you had tapped as if you had bruised him.

You rolled your eyes but reached up and patted his head lightly before giving his hair a small scratch that you knew he loved as an apology. Without fail, he smiled down at you with squinty eyes and a scrunched nose. The fondness in his eyes reached your own body. A sense of calmness. Your body relaxed.

You made to remove your hand from his hair, but he put his own hand over yours, begging you to keep it on his head for a second longer. You complied, only because you liked to mess with his hair almost as much as he liked for you to mess with it.

Jungkook ripped his mask off as you mused his hair gently. His breathing slowed and he let himself take yet another step closer to you. The scent of sweet pea flowers danced around him like a lullaby.

He was tired. He hadn’t realized he was tired until that very moment, since your outing hadn’t really been something to tire him out. He was usually fairly energetic around you and lunch was hardly an activity that would make him feel tired, but now, a nap was sounding really nice. He wondered if you would nap with him if he asked.

But then your hand was off his head and you were stepping away and the peace was lifted. He snapped his eyes open, a pretty pout decorated his pink lips which went ignored by you.

“You should really unpack all this stuff Kookie. The dust is really obnoxious.”

And then you rubbed the underside of your nose and sniffed aggressively. Jesus, how were you this...breathtaking? He felt the emotion building in his chest. It compressed into his ribs and pressed on all his organs. It grew bigger and bigger until it felt like he would explode. Almost like the weeks before when you had your head between his legs with your saliva dribbled down his cock and onto his-

AACHOOoo!

Jungkook was nearly knocked off his feet with the force of his sneeze. Instantly, the pressure in his chest loosened a bit but not entirely. Not enough. He blinked down at his body, feeling betrayed.

He could already feel his nice slacks starting to squeeze around his middle. He could only stand there in shock as he watched blood flow to his third leg. He had really thought that he had gotten past the phase of his crush on you where every little thing you did turned him on.

But then again, sucking him off while he fingered you in a barely lit room wasn’t exactly a little thing. It was huge. And he wasn’t just talking about his dick.

If he was a braver man, he would have made something of that first encounter. Maybe asked you where you stood. Maybe confessed that as much as he thought you were beautiful in every physical way, he was highly attracted to you. Just you. The you that barged into his room whenever she felt like it. The you that texted him every morning with a synopsis of your crazy dream and used the word dick as a verb, a noun and an adjective at any given point.  The you that liked to bitch at him for every little thing he did because it was out of affection.

But no. You had left that day and neither you nor him had mentioned it once while you hadn’t rejected any of his date invitations, he couldn’t muster the courage to actually ask what your relationship was. Not even in passing. He was starting to wonder if it had actually even happened or if he had imagined it, but every time he goes for his laptop and sees the dent on the edge where it hit the floor, he is forced to recall the sweet scent of flowers and your dripping center.

He had to stop that. If he kept letting his head wonder this way…

Well, he wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, which is why he hadn’t brought it up. Or that’s what he told himself.

“Well bless you,” you said with a slight giggle, “That sounded like it hurt.”

Jungkook forced his awareness away from his crotch, realizing that if he wanted you to not see it, it would be best to not draw more awareness to it himself and the limb that was awkwardly sticking to his left leg.

“A-a little. Maybe you’re right. I really should sweep this place. I just haven’t had time since i’ve been spending so much time out with you.”

You scrunch your nose at him. His cheeks were a little red, though you assumed it was from the cold outside since the tip of his nose was also a bit red. Then, he pushed his hair out of his face, you noticed that so were his ears.

Weird. He only ever got rosy ears when he was embarrassed? Well he should be. His apartment was a mess. He probably shouldn’t have even moved out. You doubted that he knew how to clean his own ass let alone do his laundry. You were going to tell him exactly that, sass locked and loaded but something- maybe it was the way his pants fit or the way that his chest protruded through his shirt or the muscles in his arms- told you to look down.

His thighs were always your favorite part of him. So strong. Rideable. How could you not when he spent so much time making sure that they were solid as a rock. You could salivate, in fact you were salivating thinking of the last time you had your mouth anywhere near those legs and his dick deep in your throat.

If you really focused, you could fool yourself into thinking that he was hard in that instant. But no. Wait. Was it? Was he?

You snapped your eyes back to your friend. Your friend that you wanted to be more than that but you refused to say so, to see that he was looking around the apartment thoughtfully.

“Why don’t you go home for today, Y/N? I should get started on-,” he cleared his throat and visibly swallowed, hoping that if he got rid of you quickly enough, then you wouldn’t have a chance to notice the log that was in his pants.

You on the other hand weren’t sure what to do. His suggestion made you do a double take. Your boundary issues had not been resolved from last time. And this was evident in what you said next.

“Gonna beat it to the last time you got a real blow job instead of asking for one or what? Small dick energy.”

And who else could that have been than you? Your brain caught up to your mouth a second too late to take anything back. The words floated out in the open like an invitation. Well, wasn’t it? Isn’t that what you had meant? Probably. Your brain tended to go that direction when it came to Jeon Jungkook but had you really just offered him a blow job?

There was a second in which Jungkook’s face steadily turned the color of a cherry tomato and he began to sweat slightly. His eyes were wide and he was looking at you like he must have misunderstood. Were you speaking the same language?

His body tensed and blood pumped predominantly to his cheeks or his nether region. He felt a little faint even. Was the room spinning? It felt like it could be.

You watched him reel and try to compose himself. This was similar to the last time you guys had partaken in activities that weren’t usually shared by platonic friends. And like that instance, you felt the urge to run. To get out before he had a chance to don his other persona. The one that makes you weak in the knees and something of a brat.

“Is that like an offer or are you being an ass?” he asked, sass dripping from his tone. He pushed both hands into his pockets, the tips of his fingers grazed his hardened rod, already sensitive despite it not being entirely hard.

You crossed your arms, not sure if you wanted him to take you up on your invitation or if you wanted to retract it.

Jungkook took a step closer to you, waiting patiently for you to find your voice. He wasn’t going to pressure you. As much as he had enjoyed it last time, he couldn’t live with himself if you did something just for his sake.

You leaned against the back of his couch, the head rest was pushed slightly against your lower back, grounding you.

“No pressure, Y/N,” he assured, suddenly feeling like the playful tone that this activity had taken on the last time may seem a little pushy if you really didn’t want to partake once again.

But this solidified in your mind that as much as he seemed turned on, he clearly had enough respect for you to make sure you really were into the situation as much as he was. This was enough to push any feelings of unease aside and focus just on what was being given.

“I mean… honestly, don’t you kind of owe me for last time? I basically did all the work and you just sat there like a rock.”

Jungkook gaped at you, he put a hand over his heart and scooted slightly closer so that there was only a foot of distance between the both of you now.

“You were the one calling the shots babe. If you wanted me to do something more than just shake that,” Perfectly sculpted and hard work evident, “ass then you should have said something.”

His vibrato dropped for a second, his eyes met yours, “I’d do anything you ask of me, Bun.”

Your heart palpitated wildily in your chest. The words he had spoken to you that night came back to you then. You dreamed of those words. Hoped he would say them again in a different setting but never had even acknowledged that it had even happened, so you were left only with dreams and foggy memories of the way your name sounded on his sweet lips and the three words that you craved to hear.

He’d probably said it in the heat of the moment. The emotions were high and your climaxes had just...well climaxed so maybe it wasn’t that he L-worded you. It was that he L-worded what had just happened.

The issue then was that you did mean them. You meant when you said that you L-worded him so the blow of your relationship staying exactly the same as it had been before, nearly made you want to cut ties with him completely out of pure embarrassment. But you couldn’t. Because he didn’t let you. Any time you didn’t answer your phone, he was at your door. Any time you avoided set dates, he’d find you. The jerk wouldn’t let you leave, and you were too weak to let him go anyway.

But then there was that sparkle of...something, in his big eyes that made him seem so genuine and willing. Subconsciously, he licked his lips and you could only imagine those same lips on you. His head between your legs.

Could you take his offer? Did you have the courage to ask for what you wanted?

“A-anything?”

Junkook’s teeth made an appearance before he chuckled lowly, “Do I make you nervous? Is- is that’s what’s going on here?” He asked, gesturing between you two with one finger. Confidence poured out of every pore.

Instantly, you scoffed. Because no. Jungkook, baby boy, bunny teeth Jeon didn’t make you nervous in the slightest. But then why did your voice get stuck in your throat? Why did your mind go blank? Why were you fidgeting incessantly?

Jungkook hissed, a laugh chimed deep in his throat, “Who would have thought that the only thing I needed to do to get you to shut up was to offer to do you? Wish I would have known this years ago! I would have offered more often.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles flexed against his shirt. Your body thirsted at the sight. What would he look like on top of you? Pinning you down?

Your eyelid felt heavy. Lust coursed through your body. If you could just speak-

“So what will it be? Want me to eat you out? Fuck you? Spank you? Or are you more of an orgasm denial type of girl? You know, if this is going to work out, we should really talk about those kinks. Maybe think of a safe word? Or are you not that kinky? Cuz I’m pretty kinky so we should definitely talk hard limits as well-”

You watched him monologue in complete shock. Did he think that this was going to be a common occurrence? No. You didn’t usually sleep with guys just for the hell of it unless you were never going to see them again, and Jungkook clearly did not fit that criteria so no. You couldn’t just casually sleep with your best friend.

You opened your mouth to tell him this when you suddenly tuned back into the conversation.

“-and I mean… I know it might have been a bit fuzzy but I’ve had fun on our dates so far so I guess it’s natural that we take this to the next level? If- If that’s okay with you! Mama always told me that a gentleman never rushes his woman. Not that you’re mine! Or like that I own you or anything like that! No, no, I just mean that I like you and well you like me and like… the dates? So we’re like together? A couple? Should we have that conversation as well? I don’t know… what do you think, Y/N?”

You blinked at him in complete shock. Had you been dating Jungkook for the last couple of weeks and hadn’t noticed?

In hindsight, he had been paying for some of your meals and while he had done this on occasion, it had become more of a regular thing. He’d also been a lot more clingy than he had been. He’d even tried holding your hand  a couple of times only for you to panic and pull away.

All of this information seemed to hit you like a ton of bricks. Oh my God… You had been dating Jungkook! How the hell did you miss that??

When you didn’t answer, combined with the horrified expression on your face that he had no way of knowing wasn’t complete disgust at the idea of him touching you, Jungkook feel like a total idiot.

To him, it seemed clear that the last thing you wanted was for his nasty hands anywhere near you. Couldn’t he take a hint? Clearly not, because you hadn’t so much as tried to kiss him on the cheek and now here he was offering to eat you. Talk about jumping some steps.

He took a step back, trying to give you some room so as not to force himself on you but he could feel his heart constrict. He was not gonna cry. He was not gonna cry. He was not gonna- oh…

Tears pooled in his pretty eyes. They burned with emotion and he really wanted nothing more than for you to leave and never speak to him again while at the same time wanting to jump into your arms and be comforted.

Regardless of his feelings, he stayed rooted to the spot he was standing in, his hands folded neatly before him as he bowed his head in a small apology.

“Oh...I uh… I overstepped. I’m so sorry, Y/N… I didn’t mean to- to make you uncomfortable.”

He balled his hands into fists trying to distract himself from the emotional pain of the blow you had dealt.

You on the other hand, were struggling to come to terms with what was happening. How did you stop this from spiraling further? And.. was he crying? No! He couldn’t be crying! You had to stop this. He may be obnoxious and a baby but he was apparently… your… obnoxious baby!

Without thinking much, you closed the distance with one big step and wormed your arms around his torso. You shimmied your head under his chin. Jungkook seized for a second. Unsure what he should do.

But as the shock wore down, he let his body relax and wrapped his strong arms around your body as he was shocked with emotion. At the end of the day, you were his best friend and if he was going to be consoled after a girl broke his heart, it would be you who would do it, even if that girl who broke his heart… was you.

But then, why were you kissing his neck softly? Was he imagining it? No. Because in the next second, you were grabbing his chin with your thumb and forefinger- they were ice cold- and you were pulling his face to look up at you.

When your eyes connected, your heart shattered. The pools of tears turned to streams in the mountains of his cheeks then conjelled at the valley between his collarbones.

Of course, on top of his good looks, he was a pretty crier. That was so unfair. Almost as unfair as the beautiful fan of eyelashes that caught his sparkling tears. And the voice that could only belong to an angel that he possessed.

You couldn’t help the slight smile that crossed your chapstick lips and the fond scrunch of your nose before you closed the three inches or so of air that divided you. When your lips settled onto his, you felt rather than saw him freeze for the third time that day.

His lips were a little salty and a little minty. Vaguely, you remember him applying and reapplying his chapstick all day. Now you wondered if he had been doing it out of nervousness.

Then his hands were in your hair, pulling you closer, balled at the nape pleasantly. He was breathing hard. Like he’d run a marathon or danced a full concert.

His lips were pressed so firmly onto yours that you were sure they would swell and bruise after this. You let all semblance of control be taken from you. One of his hands slid down to the arch of your back tentatively. Like he was scared to break you or that you would tell him to get off.

You arched your back with his hand, pressing your high necked cotton shirt into his chest. You could feel his heartbeat through the fabric of his own shirt and the muscles that covered it.

With a sigh, you opened your mouth as he opened his lips and sandwiched your top one within his own.

You could feel that he was still crying, but you weren’t exactly sure why. You could ask later. Right now, all you wanted, all you knew he needed, was for you to kiss him and make it all better. To fix whatever it is you had done. You could piece him back together if you tried hard enough.

So when he began walking you backwards towards the couch, you didn’t fight. The hand on your back moved over to your hip. His lips were connected to yours, open wide, his tongue explored the wet cavern of your mouth. Teeth clashed awkwardly, the kiss was out of sync. You let him maneuver your head whichever way he wanted with the hand that was still firmly in your hair. He leaned over you. His body seemed to completely incompace yours. Your back was arched almost forty five degrees. It wasn’t painful at all. Instead, it pushed your hips flush against his.

His member, which had shrunk significantly only seconds before, was now growing again, filling with the erotic arousal that pulsed in his veins. A hulk in disguise was being pulled from the Bruce Banner you were so used to. And you were all too eager to let him show you this side of him.

Like a man on the brink of drowning, he pulled his mouth from yours. You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes. In a split second, he leaned down and picked you up from the knees. You wondered if he would carry you to his room or throw you over his shoulder, but he sat you down on the back of the couch before he placed a quick peck to your lips.

Then, like the sadist he was, he pulled away again, smiling up at you through red eyes. He wasn’t sure what this meant. If this was a sign that you too were too scared to bring up the relationship and the conversation that could change everything, but that could wait for another time. Right then, all he wanted was to show you, with his tongue, with his mouth, with whatever limb you let him, that he was falling for you. Hard.

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes. A sigh escaped your lips. If you opened your eyes, would it be over? Would he ask you to leave? Would it once again go back to how it was for the last couple of weeks?

Eventually, you did open your eyes. Jungkook could see the fear and unsteadiness in them. The red around the brown made you hurt deeply in your soul. A tender hand reached out to cup his cheek. The light scratch of your freshly done nails was pleasurable to his senses. Goosebumps. Then a strong shiver. And he felt himself melt for the girl he had known for so long. And you for the man whom you had watched grow from a frightened boy.

“Are you going to touch me or are you going to punish me for all the times I left you high and dry,” you laughed. Even in this tender moment, you couldn’t hold your tongue, but Jungkook didn’t mind. The engine of his brain was whirring and he could hear, all he could see and feel, was you...you...you. Nothing but you and the way your hair hung under your chest and covered your left eye. Nothing but your chest rising and falling and the smile on your kissible, bruised lips.

How could he help himself? The answer? Would always be you.

He kissed your nose, then your cheek. An eskimo kiss. You giggled. It was the most beautiful music to his ears.

“You want me to Bunbun?” Internally, he cringed at his overly affectionate name but you smiled brighter and the insecurity left as soon as it came.

“Is that my name now?”

“If you want it to be, or you could choose another one?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, now that you were almost level with his eyes- though now you were a bit taller than him. You shrugged.

“I like it. Bunny, Bun, BunBun, any variation.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

“Who knew you were this cheesy, Y/N?”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully as you opened your legs so he could slot himself between them. You pulled him closer and wrapped your legs around his waist. A mischievous smirk crossed your lips.

“What’s with the face,” he asked, sniffling a little.

“What face,” you asked, feigning innocence.

“This face,” he countered, gesturing vaguely at your eyes.

“Oh this? Ah well you see,” and then without ending your thought, you let yourself fall backwards with your legs and arms wrapped tightly around his frame. He was much heavier than you and clearly more muscular but with the weight distribution you were able to pull him over the back of the couch and twist both yourself and him so you landed on the cushions. His body atop yours.

By the look on his face, he clearly had not expected you to pull him, nor did he expect for his center to land directly on yours, but the shock gave way to the joy and fun that tended to encompass your everyday encounters.

His high pitched giggle of a laugh made an appearance which caused a multitude of butterflies to flutter through your intestines and chest. He relaxed into you, laying his head cautiously onto your breasts, pushing his middle away from your heated core. (yes, he noticed)

He could hear your heart beating against the- hehe squishy- lump of fat on your chest. Instantly, he knew that he could spend eons on your bosom uninhibited and satisfied.

But the pulse of his confined member made his head swirl with thoughts less than innocent.

When your nails lightly scratched at his back and the smallest, lightest moan left your lips, he knew you must be on the same page. Or at least, he hoped. Spurred on by the heavenly shapes and your inquiry from a couple seconds before, Jungkook picked his head off your chest and hovered over your left breast.

There was a question in his eyes as he looked between your boob and your face. One which you couldn’t answer verbally as your heart rate picked up and the lust poisoned your veins.

With the slightest nod, he had everything he needed to lean down and lightly nip at the mound through the thin material of your beige shirt. The warmth of his breath traversed the stitches easily. It sent pleasant shivers through your body, settling in your core.

He nibbled softly around what he hoped was your nipple, before he kissed the center of the mound with tender lips. His eyes stayed looking up at yours, searching for any signs that he should stop. You bit your lips and took a deep breath, dropping his questioning gaze and letting him take the reigns once again.

Jungkook felt you relax into him. Relief flooded his chest. With a little more confidence, Jungkook looked with his mouth for the hardened bud of your breast and pulled it softly between his teeth. He was rewarded with a moan, only slightly louder than the one before and he realized, he wanted you screaming. He wanted you to moan his name. Hear your voice penetrate through the walls of his apartment and disturb the neighbors. This was his new goal.

“Y/N,” he said softly trying to get your attention. Instantly, you looked down from your position, your pupils were blown wide. A beautiful sight.

“Is it okay if I-” and then his confidence waned and so he gestured to your shirt with his eyes a couple of times. You smiled at him.

“Mhm, go for it Kookie.”

Was this what it felt like to be called a good boy? Because Jungkook loved it. He needed more. More. More.

Eagerly, Jungkook untucked your shirt from your pants and bunched  it up right under your boobs. The expanse of skin that he had exposed seemed like an oasis in a desert. He couldn’t help the pull of gravity that connected his lips to your stomach. They were not soft, nor gentle. They were fast and more pecks than anything. They tickled your skin as he tried to cover every single open spot with his love.

He worked his way up and nudged your shirt higher with his nose.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Jungkook?” You asked exasperated.

“Can I take this off?”

You groaned, “Yes. Take it off. All of it, my shirt, my pants, my underwear. Whatever you want. You have my permission.”

Sheepishly, Jungkook obeyed. You raised your arms over your head and arched your back to make it easier for him to undress you.

He pulled it off swiftly, ruffling your hair in the process. He tossed the shirt aside, excited to see what he was unwrapping. He wasn’t disappointed. Had you known you would be undressing for someone today? Or did your undergarments always consist of lavish fabrics and sexy shapes?

Jungkook didn’t care. He just felt honored to be able to see it. The see through fabric held together by underwire did little to hide the prize behind the clothing. Your nipples stood pert and puckered under it all. Begging to be released. He wondered if your underwear matched.

It was weird. The things one noticed when something monumental was happening. Like the golden stiching that held the bra together, or the way that the underwire dug into your skin to hold your perfect breasts in place.

Then in a second, he was moving again, frantically unbuttoning your pants and ripping them off your body without hesitation. He must know. It was life or death for him   to know if your underwear matched.

He tossed the pants in the opposite direction of the discarded shirt. He watched it fly over a lamp and land on a box that he thought had his art supplies. With bated breath, he turned to look at you. It felt as if his whole life had been leading to this moment.

And yes. The answer was that you were wearing a set. His mouth salivated as the scent of your arousal hit his nose. He wanted nothing more than to bury his face in your folds and die.

But he slowed down and took in every inch of your body. He wanted to remember it. Every freckle, every curve. He wanted a picture to hang in his bathroom or to draw you on his ipad so he could use it to jerk off when you weren’t around because after this, he knew that no other image would do it for him. Not anymore

He watched your chest heave. He looked up at your face again, asking for permission even though you had already given it to him.

“Jungkook, if you don’t touch me in the next five seconds I’m gonna bite your dick off,” you growled.

Oof… that was not one of his kinks, thank you very much, but it was the last push he needed, because he slithered down your body and pulled your legs around his shoulders staring at the promise land between your legs.

He could already see a bit of your natural lubricant running down your lightly covered slits.

You watched him, entranced by how hypnotized he seemed by your entrance. A laugh gurgled at your throat.

“Wow, if I knew that all it would take to shut you up was for me to wrap my legs around your head, I would have done it sooner,” you teased.

But the laughter died on your lips as jungkook opened his mouth wide and licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit. Even with the fabric in between his tongue and your skin, it felt like heaven.

“Fuck, Jungkook…” your hand flew to his hair, tangling in the locks of deep noir that you loved to braid when you two sat together watching a movie.

He kissed up and down your lower lips lovingly, lickig his lips as if it was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted in his life.

He hummed, sending a long vibration to your core which clamped around thin air as if trying to stop it from leaving.

“I can’t wait to really taste you, Bunny… fuck you’re delicious…” Every word was like a strike to your center. Arousal gushed from your entrance that made jungkook’s eyes sparkle in earnest enthusiasm.

Without asking, he pulled your underwear to the side, and buried his face in your juices. A bit of self consciousness wormed its way into your brain. He could be lying about how it tastes. Did it smell okay?

But the devilish sounds of him slurping and sucking at your folds pushed the thoughts away. He held your ass up, pulling you closer and closer to his face. He never felt like he was quite close enough. His nose brushed continuously against your clit and when he noticed the way you screamed under your breath every time it happened, he made it his mission to continue to do just that as he laved at your pulsing hole.

You had been hiding all of this from him. The paradise between your legs. The treat at your center. He wouldn’t let you hide from him any longer. He’d rather perish than to go one more day without your center at his lips.

Short, consecutive moans fell from the petals of your lips. Your orgasm built slowly at first, not coming to a head- both literally and figuratively and he could tell. He pushed his tongue into your entrance. Your walls closed on it, trying to keep it inside. His name came from your lips like a prayer. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted you to scream his name. To never be able to think of another doing what he was doing to you in that moment, so when your eventual crash came, he was less than satisfied.

You were breathing heavily. Your legs twitched. Jungkook ripped his face from your core only because you pulled harshly at his hair. From his nose to his chin, he shone with your cum. If there was anything hotter than that you couldn't picture it.

But then he was standing, and he ripped his belt from the loops and began to undress.

Looking over his shoulder as he pulled his pants down he said, “Take off your bra and underwear. Are you on the pill?”

Shocked, you followed his demands, though they were given loosely. You shook your head no and he gave you one nod of confirmation.

“I have condoms. You’re not allergic or anything right?”

Again you negated his question with a shake of your head and he half smiled.

“We could stop if you want-”

“Don’t be a fucking tease, JK,” you rolled your eyes and spead your legs, hooking one on the head rest of the couch so he could see your abused lips which were dripping for him.

His eyes widened only for a second, but then he tore his shirt off and scrounged for his wallet where he kept a condom. He ripped it open with his bunny teeth and pulled his underwear off unceremoniously.

You watched in fixed fascination as his cock sprang free of its confines, so hard that it looked painful. It was bound to feel good.

He rolled the condom on carefully before he situated himself between your legs and wiped your juices from his face. He was partially on his knees and partially standing. It was easy to find your entrance with your legs spread so wide.

When his head pushed in, you let your head fall back. Maybe it was because you already had one orgasm under your belt or maybe Jungkook’s dick was just a good fit but pure pleasure filled your body. He watched your reaction, gritting his teeth as your walls clamped down  around him, resisting his entrance.

“Does it hurt?”

You gurgled something that you couldn’t make out but Jungkook seemed to understand because he nodded and pushed in farther, slowly. He bottomed out, his balls gently hit your ass and your vagina clenched, feeling every ridge of his member within you.

“Fuck… Y/N… I… I don’t know how long I can last…”

It was so sensitive. Every little twitch of his dick felt monumental. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if you could last either.

“Move,” you managed.

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He pulled out slowly then slammed back into you. Your skin clapped loudly in the mostly empty apartment. You whimpered. Your back arched. He pulled out again, then slammed back in. His pace was marked. Timed. It made your boobs jiggle as he grabbed your hips to help you meet his movements.

Cute little ‘ah’s filled his ears. They got higher pitched as you neared your end. Jungkook couldn’t believe his luck. You were so tight. So wet and the way your walls closed around him made him grow close to his end much quicker than he ever had by hand.

“Y/N… I’m gonna… I’mma…”

But you beat him to it. Your pussy clamped down and fluttered around him as your second orgasm crashed upon you.

You moaned his name as he continued to pound into you. Whines and pleas went unheard as he sped up. He needed you to know who you belonged to… in like a totally consensual way.

You were so sensitive, but the pain of over stimulation gave way to pleasure far too soon and a third orgasm consumed you.

In pure shock, Jungkook grunted and moaned, your vagina got even tighter around him. And he came violently, with his dick mid thrust and his name bouncing off the walls in the tone of your exhausted voice.

Spurt after spurt of white, hot cum spilled from his member and into the condom. He was so caught up in his pleasure that he didn’t notice nor hear the front door open.

Both of you heard a gasp and footsteps. Jungkook, mid orgasm, snapped his heavy head to the sound. To his complete surprise and embarrassment, there stood the aloof neighbor that was always walking into the wrong apartment.

At first, you were embarrassed, being naked was not something you did frequently in the presence of others, but then you were upset. Angry. How stupid could one girl be? Shouldn’t she learn that this was not her place after a billion and one mistakes?

For a second, all three of you were frozen. Jungkook’s orgasm finished and his cock quickly deflated. He jumped to action quickly, throwing his body over yours to cover you before he looked back at the neighbor and said, “this isn’t your apartment!”

Over Jungkook’s toned shoulder, you watched her eyes dart to his exposed ass before they filled with tears.

“Oppa…” she said under her breath, before the tears streamed and she turned on her heels and hurried out.

Your blood boiled. It seemed you were right. She wasn’t stupid at all. She had a crush on your… person? Whatever he was. He was yours- in a ‘I want to be yours and like it’s totally okay for you to say that’ kind of way, and you were not going to put up with some random girl who clearly didn’t have boundaries.

Jungkook looked down at you, his cheeks were red and you could tell he was extremely uncomfortable.

Carefully, he pulled his softened member from your core and made a show of removing the condom then disposing of it. You began to put your underwear and bra back on, watching him walk around his apartment butt naked. Would he say something? Or would you have to bring it up?

After minutes of silence, you decided you would have to be the one to break the awkwardness.

“So uh… do you know what her actual apartment is? Maybe we can put a note on your front door for her to remind her,” you half joked, standing to find your shirt and pants, but settling instead for the button up he was wearing before.

Jungkook pulled his shorts on, his back was to you. There was a tenseness in his muscles that wasn’t going away and something in the air struck fear in the pit of your stomach.

“She lives next door.”

Something about the way he said it made you feel like it was a confession of sorts. It made you want to run.  But instead, you sat in his shirt as he rifled in his boxes for a pair of more comfortable pants before you decided to drop it for now, knowing that whatever it was that was hanging in the air around you wasn’t something you were ready for.

“Jungkook, where's your broom?”

“Uh…,” there was a hint of a laugh in his voice and some of the pressure lifted from the atmosphere, “was I supposed to buy one?”

You rolled your eyes for the millionth time that day and berated him for not having bought the basic necessities for his home. Everything felt lighter, but still like you were trending on eggshells. It felt like instead of taking a step forward, you had taken six steps back. You were no more clear on what you were or what to do than you had been the last couple of weeks.

You helped him unpack that day, because you knew he wouldn’t do it on his own. He joked with you as if nothing had happened, and you sassed him all the same but something was off… and you didn’t know if it could be fixed without it first breaking you both.

[asherlockstudy]

Just a thought. But you know how Gatiss (or maybe Moffat I forget) said back years ago re Sherlock “we have a long term plan. Very long term.” Doyle killed off Sherlock for 10 years. Think they’ve been planning the same thing? They’ve said that they don’t believe Doyle meant to kill him off permanently, why should we believe THEYVE just stopped? Idk. Maybe wishful thinking. But when 4 came out I was so sure - SO SURE - that more was coming. I’m out of the loop so no idea if they’ve dropped more hints to this?

This is the one thing that still baffles me the most. I don’t think it is their plan to make a long hiatus like Doyle and then come back because a) that part in Sherlock’s storyline already happened after Series 2 and b) this is simply not realistic in modern media. No producers would consider returning after years, taking for granted their viewers’ dedication and the all star cast’s eagerness to return indefinitely or even, you know, being able to return at all (ie RIP Una Stubbs).

But them repeating over and over the whole long term thing and also always promising a 5-season plan instead of the final 4-season one we got is a fact. IMO there are two explanations for this and either both are true or at least one is. The one explanation is that something happened and they had to change plans and adjust their plot into four instead of five seasons, which is also why Series 4 felt so rushed and had so many plot holes. There are signs of distress and hurry in the making of S4. The other explanation is that when they spoke of a long term plan they meant that they had been preparing the Eurus storyline from the beginning. This is definitely true. So either just this or both of these are the answer.

How I am so sure about Eurus is a different story - I am currently writing a meta about Eurus’ storyline that puts into perspective the whole plot of the show and the writing process of Moftiss and the problems they had on the way. I think it can be enlightening about what went wrong with Sherlock but it will also give credit where it’s due, it’s gonna be up within the week.

[sepublic]

Halloween Special: The Shut-In!

           So, this episode is SUPPOSED to be canon, I believe? Or the idea is that within the episode itself, the events take place after the Plantars return to Wartwood, but otherwise it isn’t canon? I’m not sure, I’ll have to go check. Either way…

           This was a REALLY fun, and surprisingly freaky episode, especially towards the end! I love the darker, pragmatic take on Halloween for Amphibia, and how the holiday is interpreted in this world as more of a doomsday preparation sort of thing, this show’s worldbuilding is always so fun. Let me tell you, I lost my mind when I saw human Sprig, Polly, Maddie, and Toadie! Is the implication that Toadie is actually, like, around the kids’ ages this entire time? That makes people shipping him and Mayor Toadstool, uh… VERY, er… But at the same time, I can see why everyone thought he was an adult- So an honest mistake and thus no harm done! And come to think of it, Polly seems to be about the same age as Sprig here. So, the ages may not necessarily match… But then come to think of it, it IS weird that the writers/animators chose to give Toadie a humansona, and not say, Ivy! Actually, Toadie is rather minor and feels oddly specific considering who else was excluded, so I have to wonder if there was some particular reason for this, of if the writers just felt like it?

           Anyhow, the humanized versions of our frog friends are adorable, Sprig and Polly are gingers, no surprise there, and the bucket over Polly’s foot is so cute! I love how Anne didn’t even TRY to change who she was, she legit just tied up her hair and that’s it. Her story was a fun premise, and I expected the video to actually be a jumpscare that pulls in its victims at the last moment. And I mean, sort of? It definitely takes a while for that Video Cat demon thing to arrive… But I loved Anne in this bit, how she’s so smug and proud of herself and really doesn’t want to care what others say about her skills, you go girl! You go write dialogue! And I just realized, but this is possibly the closest look we have to Anne’s actual home and bedroom, assuming things haven’t been changed up all that much in the ‘bootleg’ translation… So F-Annes, analyze!

           That Video Cat being unable to take criticism and literally dying to it is a mood. Also, either its eggs ARE boba, and/or they just taste like it… Either way, keep in mind that Molly legit took a huge bite out of one. Then again, more feral things have happened in Amphibia and ESPECIALLY with Polly, so I guess I’m not too shocked- Look at Anne, she wanted to eat that monster crab that almost killed Sylvia way back when! Are those cats invincible because they’re bound to no videos, or are they subject to regular criticism in general… Can they also be physically killed as well?

           WHY am I even asking, when we know this isn’t canon whatsoever and is never going to come up again!? Anne insists that this happened to her phone specifically, so I guess the gag is that the phone had a previous owner named Anna, etc…. Still, while it’s funny how Anne just gets away with completely making up a story, I do have to wonder if it’s like. Allegorical to a real-life experience. Probably not, given the presence of humanized Sprig, Polly, Maddie, and Toadie… Unless Anne is recounting something that happened in Amphibia, but then Sprig and Polly would’ve recognized what Anne is alluding to, given how they remembered those other past adventures (which was a hilarious gag that I felt nostalgic to recognize). I’m probably just overthinking it.

           Then, we’ve got Hop Pop’s story! He had LUSCIOUS locks, and he met the Grim Reaper- Again, allegedly. Not gonna lie I assumed that dude was Frog Lucifer or something, but this is kind of better? Either way that was pretty dark, and I love the implication that the Grim Reaper legit went out of his way to steal some rando’s hair. Poor Hop Pop, he never got his hair back! Are we going to call this canon? Does this confirm the presence of a Frog Grim Reaper?

           (Side-note, I feel bad for Wally! Imagine being born on a day where everyone has to be holed up lest they turn into Were-Amphibians! That must’ve been quite the scandal for the Ribbiton family, I have to wonder if this influenced his decision to go out and live his own life with how lonely Wally was…)

           Then we have Sprig’s story! I’m so happy to see Ivy again, I never realized how much I missed her and her adorable design, and her hair is so cute! Kind of reminds me of Anne with how wild it is, I want to see a one-shot of Anne bonding with Ivy over their messy hair now. I really appreciate that gag of Sprig realizing what Ivy’s about to say, about how everyone has knitting needles, and Ivy breaking down that door without remorse. This story was my favorite, not just for the comedy, but also…

           DANG, that was legitimately terrifying?!When I saw those slimy frog skins, knowing those were actual people, with Hop Pop even suggesting one of them could’ve been Gary… and YIKES, what happens to the flayed bodies?!? Legit I freaked out when I saw the Seamstress, this was straight-up Leather Face, the show wasn’t even trying to be subtleor dodge around it, those were actual people skins! This was some Wartwood Chainsaw Massacre…! Seeing all of those hanging skins and faces gave me the heebie-jeebies, I didn’t expect the show to go THIS far, and while I’m impressed and glad it managed to freak me out, still! That build up to the reveal of Ivy literally ripping off that ‘face’, us seeing a glimpse of the Seamstress before her skins fall off, and it looks like she lacks any skin entirely, and that’s why she wears others’!

           Only, she DOES have skin, it’s just clear- Fun fact, I watched this with my brother and he immediately recognized the Seamstress as a Glass Frog, by name, before Sprig did! I think it was a neat gag how for Sprig, he immediately calms down because for Amphibians, Glass Frogs are a somewhat normal and non-supernatural facet of life, relatively speaking. For us humans, well, it reminds me of this one myth about a woman whose head can rise from her body, unveiling her organs…

           I THOUGHT the episode was going to go the sweet route, even as I joked that the Seamstress still, y’know, KILLED people. And like Apothecary Gary, the show remembered this and we legit had the Seamstress burn to death in a classic horror movie finale, and I yelled when she made one last stand to grab Ivy by the leg and bite her! I get that there’s meant to be an allegory between Ivy not appreciating her own hair, and the Seamstress not appreciating her own skin, body positivity and all that- But mostly I was too freaked out to appreciate it. Ivy waddling around blindly in present-time was adorable, though.

           And, Polly! I LOVE the sort of lesson, the realization that her being gone was scarier than ANY story they’d heard that night (probably because this was real, at least I assume the other stories were fake but regardless). We get our twist of Polly turning into a Were-Tadpole, and then anticlimactically reacting while the others lose their minds as noises of ruckus are heard, implying that Polly immediately went feral afterwards, or the others just made a mess as they freaked out! Also, love the twist on the ending credits, that’s delightfully morbid…

           All in all, this was a great episode! Surprisingly scary, and definitely hilarious- It’s a much-needed break from this Amphibia hiatus, especially now that I’m also dealing with the hiatus for The Owl House and Infinity Train (the latter of whom may be permanent PLEASE watch the show on HBO Max), and Kipo’s ending. I do have Carmen Sandiego’s third season to watch, though. I wonder if there’s any speculation to be gleaned from the Blue Moon turning people into monsters, and how that can connect to Blue Energy for the Calamity Box relating to the virtue of Heart. Does the Blue Moon turn people into a monstrous form that reflects the darker sides/fears of their heart? I’m probably overthinking it. Either way, I’m really glad we got a classic Holiday Episode for this show- I always love those, ESPECIALLY Halloween ones!

[discotreque]

LwD 1.10, “No Small Parts”

Well, that was the most fun I've had watching Star Trek in literally a quarter of a century.

I had high hopes for this series. I love TAS, largely because of its wacky outsized concepts that could only have worked in animation—not that they all did work, but the potential was so apparent to me, even as a kid reading the Alan Dean Foster novelizations—and as an adult, there's something about the imagination of Lower Decks's FX setpieces that transcends even the glorious CGI bonanzas of Discovery.

Pause for a confession. I've long pushed back against criticism of serialization in new Trek. That's just how TV is now, okay? Might as well complain about it being in widescreen. But I'm backing down a little, because I've realized there is something about Star Trek that's inextricable from at least a partially-episodic format. And while Picard was telling a different kind of story, I can't deny that my favourite episodes of Disco have been the ones with a mostly self-contained A-plot. After 10 delightfully episodic instalments of LwD, its focus on long-term development of characters instead of a season-spanning puzzle-plot (okay, mostly just Mariner, but we only have 10 × 22 minutes and she is the star) has been downright refreshing.

So here we are, at the end of the most consistent and well-executed Season 1 of a Star Trek series since, arguably, Those Old Scientists. And sure, if they'd had to produce another... yikes, 42 episodes? Then sure, they probably would have dropped a clunker or two—but they didn't, and winning on a technicality is still winning. I'm practically vibrating with excitement for Disco to come back next week, but damn, I'm going to miss this little show while it's on hiatus.

Spoilers below:

Something I've been keeping track of finally paid off this week! (Which never happens to me, lol.) The destruction of the USS Solvang marked the first present-day death(s) of any Starfleet officer on Lower Decks, the only other on-screen killing at all being a flashback in "Cupid's Errant Arrow". Which makes sense, being (a) a comedy, and (b) about typically "expendable" characters: it hasn't been afraid to flirt with a little darkness here and there, but killing people off at Star Trek's usual pace wouldn't just be wrong for the tone, it would be downright bizarre.

But... people die on Star Trek. That's one of the core themes of the show, really: space is full of knowledge and beauty, but also danger and terror, and believing that the former is worth the risk of the latter is (according to Trek) one of humanity's most noble traits. I'm the least bloodthirsty TV watcher I know, but the longer we went with a body count of nil—ships completely evacuated before they were destroyed, main characters hilariously maimed without permanent consequences, etc.—well, I didn't mind per se, but the absence of truly deadly stakes was definitely getting conspicuous.

Turns out they were saving it up for maximum impact. And holy fuck, I've never felt such a pit in my stomach watching a ship get destroyed that wasn't named Enterprise. It felt grim and brutal and somehow both much too quick and dreadfully inevitable—and yeah, it looked extremely fucking cool—and I'd like every other Star Trek property for the rest of time to take notes under a large bold heading labeled RESTRAINT.

Comedy doesn't need to do this, but my favourite comedy does, and in a way that few other art forms can even approach: lower my emotional defences by making me laugh, endear character(s) to me with goofy-but-relatable antics—then BAM, sucker-punch me in the motherfucking feels. M*A*S*H is probably the classic example on TV, Futurama was notorious for it, and even Archer has pulled it off a few times; it's also a staple of some of my favourite standup. I wasn't sure if Lower Decks was going to go there in Season 1—and wasn't sure if they'd earn it—but I knew if they did, that they'd nail it, and damn. Feels good to be right.

Last batch of notes for the season!!! I rambled enough already, so let's do it liveblog-style:

I fucking KNEW they were going to use "archive" visuals from TAS at some point, I KNEW IT :D

"THOSE OLD SCIENTISTS" ahahahahahahahahahahahaha

I like chill and confident Boimler a lot? You can really see—

oh bRADWARD NOOOOO

That opening shot of the Solvang tracking down to the red giant was extremely Discovery-esque... minus the motion sickness, that is

A lady captain AND a lady first officer? That's—oh hey, it's Captain Dayton's brand-new ship. Hahaha, that means they're totally fucked, right?.

Yep! They sure a—umm, wh—shit, okay, but—oh no—no, you can't—wait DON'T

...fuck

FUCK.

Narrator: "And then Amy needed a five-hour break."

[live-action Star Trek showrunner voice] "Gee, Mike! Why does CBS let you have two cold opens?"

Okay, yes, the bit with Rutherford cycling through all the different attitudes in his implant was transparently an excuse for Eugene Cardero to vamp while waiting for something to do in the story, but as far as I'm concerned they can contrive a reason for him to do a bunch of different silly Rutherfords in a row any time they damn well want, because that was classic!!!

EXOCOMP EXOCOMP EXOCOMP EXOCOMP

AND THE EXOCOMP IS PAINTED LIKE THE EXOCOMP IS WEARING A LITTLE EXOCOMP-SIZED STARFLEET UNIFORM

EXOCOMP!!!!!

The slow burn and now the payoff of the Mariner-is-Freeman's-secret-daughter plot has been executed so well. I'm beyond impressed with this writer's room, y'all—they are threading a hell of a needle here

"Wolf 359 was an inside job" would have been a spit-take if I'd had anything in my mouth

...how many memos do you think Starfleet Command has had to issue asking people to stop calling the USS Sacramento "the Sac"?

CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW THEY'VE DECORATED THE SHUTTLECRAFT SEQUOIA THOUGH

Is, uh, is it weird if I'm starting to ship Tendi and Peanut Hamper a little? It is weird, isn't it. I knew it was weird...

Coital barbs??? I take back everything I said about wanting to know more about Shaxs/T'Ana.

The "good officer" version of Mariner is... kind of hot, tbh! But Tawny Newsome has done such a great job of building this character all season that her voice getting uncharacteristically clipped and martial and "sir! yes, sir!" is also deeply, deeply weird

Ah, so this is literally exactly like when TNG (and DS9) would bring in, and then blow up, a never-before-seen Galaxy-class ship, just to underscore that we're facing a real threat this week, baby. And hey, it fucking worked—my heart was in my throat, omg, for the reveal of the—

PAKLEDS?????????

The fucking PAKLEDS have been gluing weapons to their ships for the last 15 years. GREAT.

(We interrupt the SHIP BEING SLICED INTO SCRAP for an interesting bit of world-building: on Earth, the traditional First Contact Day meal is salmon!)

"I need a dangerous, half-baked solution that breaks Starfleet codes and totally pisses me off! That's an order." I'm starting to think Captain Freeman might actually be overqualified for the Cerritos, y'all—she's REALLY awesome

OH SHIT IT'S BADGEY, this is a TERRIBLE IDEA

"How much contraband have you hidden on my ship?" "I don't know! A lot!"

Awwww, Boims!!!

AHAHAHAHAHAHA, FUCK THIS, PEANUT HAMPER OUT

BADGEY NOOOOO

AUGHHHHH WHAT THE CHRIST DID HE JUST—BUT—RUTHERFORD'S IMPLANT????

RUTHERFORD!!!!!!!!!!

SHAXS!!!!!!

F U C K ! ! ! ! !

ahaIOPugdfhagntpgjrq90e5mgu90qe5;oigoqgw4ouegrw5SP;IAEHURVa IT’S THE TITAN???????????

IT'S CAPTAIN WILLIAM T. RIKER ON THE MOTHERFUCKING TITAN??????????

i'm screaming I'M SCREAMINGGGGGG​TGGGTGQER;​LBHAOIBVNV;​OAPBIJNVagr;h;​oagruipuwtnaetbaetgq35ghqet

I'M SO GLAD THIS WASN'T SPOILED FOR ME WTF

I AM WEEPING LIKE A CHILD

...

(Just a brief 20-minute pause this time)

And oh wow, seeing Will and Deanna hits different after Picard too, in a few different ways, which I may even get into later now that my heartrate is back to normal, lmao

Oh, I am always here for some jokes at the expense of the Sovereign class. The Enterprise-E sucked. They should have built a new bigger model of the D and new Galaxy-class interiors for the TNG movies, and I will die on that hill

OKAY, FINE, YOU GOT ME, RUTHERFORD × TENDI WOULD BE ADORABLE AND THIS IS ACTUALLY A PRETTY GOOD SETUP FOR IT

Awwww, Shaxs though :( Congrats on the single most badass death in Star Trek history, dude. The Prophets would—well, the actual Prophets would probably be slightly confused about most of it, but Kira Nerys would be proud of you and I feel like that probably counts for more. RIP, Papa Bear

I am here all damn DAY for the Mariner–Riker parallels, ahahahahaha

Pausing it to record my prediction that Boimler's commitment to not caring about rank anymore is going to last 3... 2...

Yep.

Bradward, how DARE YOU.

"Those guys had a long road, getting from there to here." OH FOR THE LOVE OF—

What a brilliant way to resolve and renew the various character arcs and relationships moving into Season 2! The writers could easily have brought everything back to status quo—chaotic Mariner fighting with her mom and being a bad influence on Boimler, etc.—and done another 10 just like these, but I suspect that wouldn't have been ambitious enough for these writers. What a blast. I cannot wait for more.

Thanks for following along, friends! Stay tuned for my (similarly patchy and amateur) coverage of Discovery, starting next week!

[slashiest-slasher]

Billy lenz for the general hc thing you just posted pls!!

• Actually hates candy canes. His real favorite candy is those candy corn pumpkins. But they have no murderous ability so he just shovels them into him mouth until he can't breathe.

• Before he lived in the attic at the sorority, Billy was a recent release from a psychiatric hospital. He had been a permanent ward, and was subsequently admitted to a psychiatric hospital when he was 18, but due to an error in the system, he was released.

• The whole Agnes thing was due to the fact he killed his baby sister, Agnes. His parents covered it up, but the body was found, both parents were indicted, and Billy was put into foster care.

• Billy isn't his real name, but since he doesn't remember his actual name he just goes by Billy.

• The entity tried taking Billy once, but spit him back out because he's a dirty boy and never sacrificed to the entity. Billy just thought it was a wild fever dream.

• Billy probably lived in the attic of the sorority house for a while, until police searched the building. After that, he wanders in the woods and ends up living in a secluded cabin as a feral man.

• He's ambidextrous, but favors his left hand.

• He once drank perfume because it smelled good and proceeded to puke it up. Everyone thought Claude did it.

• There's a 70% chance that if Billy got laid her calm down. But he'd also realistically try to kill someone during sex.

(Yes I know I've been on hiatus for a while but this was quick and easy for me to do. Rip)