#she drank half a bottle of wine and got drunk

[cameronsprincess]

— summary: zach is the best boyfriend you’d ever had, he loves you, cares about you, he’s gentle with you.. but his twin brother, rafe, tempts you one night, and you can’t help but fall for it.

— warnings: smut! 18+ cheating!!! drunk!reader, aggressive!rafe, throat fucking, unprotected sex, choking, smacking, praise, degrading, iii think that’s all.

— note: @rafesthroatbaby is the fucking devil for sending me this ask she got for this idea 😩🥵 as always- likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated 🩷

❥ boyfriends brother — r.c

zach. he was the sweetest, most loving man you’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.

he was sexy, captain of the men’s soccer team at your college, he had a good job lined up for him after graduation, he was everything you could have ever dreamed of and more.

but his brother… oh his twin brother, rafe.

rafe was zach’s polar opposite, no interest in sports, or working, he wasn’t sweet, he wasn’t kind or loving, but he was definitely sexy.

it was something about rafe’s mean demeanor that had you soaking your panties anytime he was around, anytime he’d throw a mean remark your way, or anytime he and zach would be arguing, you couldn’t help but ache. the sight of rafe angry, veins bulging in his neck and hands as he shouted the harshest things at his twin brother, it made you feel ways you knew were wrong.

you’d swore you’d never act on your feelings for rafe, swore you’d never let him tempt you. there was no way you’d ever sleep with your boyfriends brother.

and to be fair, you’d kept that promise… until tonight.

zach was out of town for the weekend, celebrating with his team for winning the biggest soccer game of the season. you had been staying at the cameron household for weeks, and this weekend was no different, you were used to being left at their home when zach wasn’t around.

you’re sat on the couch, downing your tenth glass of wine, head buzzing from the alcohol that was coursing through your veins. you were getting ready to call it a night, standing from your spot on the couch when a familiar low and raspy voice says your name, making your muscles tense, arousal already beginning to soak your panties.

“what’re you doing? drinking all by yourself?”

you glance up, eyes meeting rafe’s bright blue ones. he was wearing nothing but a pair of baby blue sweatpants that hung low on his hips, his perfectly tanned and toned chest and abdomen on display.

you shakily move your hand to grab your wine glass and the half drank bottle from the table, stuttering out a response in the process. “uh… y-yeah. i- the alcohol helps me.. uh- it helps me sleep”

rafe takes a step toward you, his head hung low before he slowly lifts it back up, eyes scanning the length of your body. you suck in a shaky breath, rolling your head from side to side as you try and gain your composure.

“yeah? you know what helps me sleep..” he pauses, taking a few more slow steps toward you until he’s standing directly in front of you, his large hands making their way to your face and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “sex.. yeah it uh, it helps me sleep”

you tense underneath his touch, the feeling of his fingers brushing over your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

you swallow thickly, dropping your gaze to the floor beneath you, “uh, yeah.. that uh, that’s a good way to sleep too”

rafe places his index finger and thumb on your chin, lifting your head back up, forcing your eyes on him. you feel your breathing accelerate, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear it.

he dips his head down, lips ghosting over yours. you press your palms firmly against his chest, trying to shove him back, but he grips at your wrists with his free hand, shoving them back down to your sides, “don’t try and tell me you don’t think of me in the ways i think of you, i know you want me. zach doesn’t know how to properly take care of a girl like you, a fucking whore. you need to be fucked like the whore you are”

“r-rafe. i-i can’t. i.. this is wrong, i-i love zach”

rafe chuckles darkly, his hand wrapping around your throat and squeezing tightly. he pushes you down onto your knees, his free hand shoving his sweats and boxers down his legs, his large cock springing free.

“i love zach” he mocks, “i know you don’t fucking love him, if you did, you wouldn’t give me those desperate ‘fuck me’ eyes every single fucking time you see me. now, be a good fucking girl, and suck my cock, yeah?”

you glance up at him, his normally bright blue eyes now dark, glazed over with lust. he releases his grip on your throat, his hand making its way into your hair and tugging. you swallow thickly before spitting down into your palm, slowly wrapping your hand around his thick length. you begin slowly pumping at his cock, pulling low groans from him.

you dip your head down, licking a long stripe up the underside of his shaft, leaving soft kisses to his swollen head, licking up the precum that had leaked from the tip. you hum in satisfaction when you taste him, finally wrapping your lips around his head and swirling your tongue around it. you slowly push more of his throbbing cock into your mouth, a slow and steady pace made as you bobbed your head up and down his length.

rafe tightens his grip in your hair, shoving himself fully down your throat and keeping you stuck, nose pressed against his pelvis. you begin gagging around him, his dick lodged deep in your throat pulling tears from your eyes, drool running down the sides of your mouth and his balls.

he harshly pulls your head back, his cock slipping from your mouth with a loud pop. you begin gasping for air, sucking in deep breaths. he grasps at his cock, slapping his tip against your cheek before slowly sliding himself back into your mouth, hips harshly thrusting in and out of your mouth, his swollen head beating at the back of your throat.

he continues his harsh thrusts, the sounds of your gagging and his low groans bouncing off the walls of the living room. his thrusts grow sloppy, dick pulsing in your mouth, signaling his impending release before he quickly pulls himself from your mouth.

you whine, the need of wanting to taste him strong, “raaaafe! why’d you do that? wanted to taste you” you pout.

he lands a harsh slap across your cheek, your neck snapping to the side. your hand flys to your cheek, rubbing at the spot as tears filled your eyes, “wh-what was th-” you begin to ask, but your words die, a squeal pulled from you when rafe yanks you off your knees.

his hands fly to the waistband of your silk sleep shorts, pulling them down your legs along with your panties. he grips at your thighs, giving a light tap against your ass, “jump” he demands, and you quickly obey.

your wrap your legs around his hips, his hard cock pressing firmly against your clit. rafe places one arm completely underneath your ass, keeping you upright while he free hand forces its way between the two of you, grasping his cock and sliding his head through your arousal slick entrance.

you begin whimpering, the head of his cock pushing into you slowly and then being pulled right back out. you gasp when he finally sinks himself inside of you, his tip stroking at your gspot, cock splitting you in half.

“holy fuck! rafe!”

he buries his head into the crook of your neck, mouth attacking at the skin as he starts fucking himself up into your pussy.

you’re a moaning mess, strings of curses and shouts of his name falling past your lips as he walks you toward a wall, your back being harshly pinned against it. rafe uses both hands to hold you upright, his palms tightly gripping at the plump flesh, his cock relentlessly pounding into you.

“fuck! feel s’good, tell me, who fucks you better? hmmm? me or my fucking brother?”

you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, tears pricking at your eyes as the realization of what you’re doing finally hits you. this was your boyfriends brother.. you were betraying zach, he would be heartbroken if he ever found out.

tears begin streaming down your face, a mix of pain and pleasure rushing through your body. rafe’s demanding voice and hand squishing at your cheeks has you snapping back into reality.

“fucking answer me! who fucks this pussy better?”

you whimper, “i-i.. fuck! rafe! i can’t”

rafe slows his thrusts, his mouth finding yours and leaving a hot, searing kiss to your lips. he pulls himself back, continuing his slow and sensual thrusts inside of you, “go on, fucking say it. i fuck this pussy better than zach. s’not that hard, little fucking slut loves being fucked by her boyfriends brother”

you whimper when he harshly thrusts up, your inner walls clenching around him tightly as your orgasm threatens to burst from you.

“say it!” rafe shouts, his brutal thrusts picking up in pace.

you let your head fall forward, face buried in the crook of his neck as you shout, “fuck! you fuck me better than zach! fuck rafe, ‘m gonna cum!”

rafe chuckles, “fuckin’ knew it! go on baby, soak my fucking cock, be a good fucking girl f’me and cum all over me”

the mix of his harsh thrusts and his words have you tumbling over the edge, your arousal squirting out of you and soaking rafe’s cock and thighs.

he continues fucking himself up into you, his hips stuttering and dick pulsing, “fuck, gonna fill you up with my cum, you fuckin’ want that? wanna have my cum inside your greedy little pussy?”

“y-yes! please cum inside me, rafe! i need it so badly!”

his hips stutter, his dick twitching inside you, the thick white ropes of his cum spilling inside you and painting your inner walls.

his thrusts slow, slipping his now softening cock from inside you and placing your feet back onto the ground. the room is silent, rafe turning on his heels and making his way toward his discarded sweatpants.

you awkwardly make your way toward the couch, grabbing your panties and shorts off the floor and pulling them up your legs. you watch as rafe makes his way into the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing himself a water.

“uh… rafe-” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“you don’t want zach to know, right?”

you awkwardly chuckle, “uh.. yeah. please, zach can never find out about this.. i- i really do love him”

rafe takes a quick sip from his water, pulling the bottle from his lips and smirking at you, “that’s fine. under one condition”

you narrow your eyes in confusion, your head slightly tilted to the side as you wait on him to finish.

“i get to fuck you whenever i want”

your eyes nearly pop out of your head, was he fucking crazy? there was no way you would do this again, no matter how badly you wanted to.

“what? rafe, we can’t ever do this again!”

rafe takes two long strides toward you, his hand making its way onto your cheek, “that’s the rule baby. i get to fuck you whenever i want, and zach never finds out”

you nervously chew at the skin on your bottom lip, contemplating what to say.

“i- fine! fine, if that’s what it takes.. but rafe.. i- this isn’t right, he’s your brother!”

rafe snorts out a laugh, “and? i don’t give a fuck, you’re mine now. mine to use, mine to fuck. whenever i want. night princess, i’ll see you tomorrow”

he makes his way toward the spiral staircase, disappearing up the stairs and leaving you dumbfounded and confused. what had you gotten yourself into?

RAFE TAGLIST: @ivy-34 @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @starkeypankowsbae @m-1234 @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @alexisbaumann2004 @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @rafetopia @mel119g @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @lyndys @softlilacarrest @fayerite @exhaustedbutelated @urmyslxt @sierraluvz @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @digitaldiary111 @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @personalfavsthatarerandom @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @bigslay86 @buckyisveryhot @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @urbestieboo

rafe cameron masterlist | taglist form

[loveanddeepspaceimagines]

I love the when he gets drunk and is clingy! Can you do a reverse version (with the reader being drunk instead) :)))

When You get drunk and clingy

I only did Zayne and Rafayel since i only did them in original, hope you don't mind.

About Requests: if you suggest scenario ,please choose which lads men you want me to write for.

After tiring night you and Tara decided to have some fun ,and had girls night. few hours later when she left ,You found yourself sprawled out on the couch, a bottle of wine half-empty in your hand. The room was spinning.

Rafayel walked in, seeing you in your state, a grin spreading across his face. "Looks like someone had too much fun," he teased, sitting down next to you. "Hey, babe" You slurred, trying to focus on him through the haze, "I missed you so much."

He chuckled, taking the bottle from you, his hand lingering on your arm. "Aww, I missed you, too cutie" he said, giving your arm a gentle squeeze. You snuggled closer to him, your head resting against his chest.

"You know, babe, I think I'm gonna marry you, maybe have your babies, and..." Your voice trailed off as you started to slur even more, enjoying the feeling of his warmth and the safety that came with being in his arms.

"Wow you've got big plans "Rafayel said, his face flushed,amused by your drunken ramblings. "Well, don't forget, we can't have babies here," he teased, his hand running through your hair.

You giggled, your face flushed as you wrapped your arms around his waist. "No, but we could go to our room, and I could practice being a mommy with you," you said, your eyes half-lidded. Rafayel chuckled, shaking his head.

"You're crazy, but I love you for it," he replied, gently lifting you to your feet. You leaned against him, your arms draped over his shoulders. "Let's go make some practice babies," you insisted, your words slurring.

Rafayel grinned, looking down at you. "Maybe later,when you are sober" he murmured, escorting you to the bedroom, you pouted but followed him anyways. "At least cuddle with me?"you slurr and he chuckles "of course baby".

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You were at a friend's party, having a good time. Or at least, you thought you were. The more you drank, the more you realized you missed Zayne.

Soon enough, you were that friend who's had too much to drink. Your laughter was too loud, your voice slurred, and your attempts at dancing were more like flailing. It became harder and harder to keep your balance.

"Zayne..." You mumbled to yourself, turning to Tara "... I need... need..." Your words trailed off, your brain not quite registering what you wanted.

"Babe, Zayne's not here," she replied, concern in her voice as she watched you sway.

"No... No, I need him here," you insisted. "He's gonna pick me up..."

Your friend shook her head, her expression a mix of amusement and concern. "I'll call him for you, but you're going to have to wait here, alright?"

You nodded, slumping down on couch. Your eyes heavy

Some time later, you were awakened by the sound of the car door opening. Blinking blearily, you saw Zaynes concerned face, his eyes scanning your disheveled appearance.

"Hey, baby" he said, gently helping you into the car. "What happened?"

"I... I missed you, and I needed you, Zayn-" Your words slurred, and you let out a giggle as you buried your face into his chest. Zayne chuckled softly his cheeks reddening, running a hand through your hair.

"It's okay, Y/n. I'm here now," he said, driving you home, the sound of your light snores filling the car.

Once home, he helped you inside, making sure you were safely tucked into bed. Tossing back your covers, you mumbled a sleepy "I love you," before drifting peacefully off to sleep.

©loveanddeepspaceimagines 2024

[sloppysequinz]

Mommy Isn’t Home

By popular demand, a well behaved boy assaults his drunk slut mommy when she gets too zonked to know he’s even there.

This one has it all folks: noncon, fauxcest, cum eating, pill abuse, cuckoldry, peeping, piss—you want it, we got it. Read at your own risk for triggers tbh.

Inspired by this post of mine and this post by @soft-mommy-nb. Hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your idea for inspiration :)

When Cal got home, the house was quiet. That was weird.

“Hey, I’m home!” He called out into the house, dropping his backpack by the door. Usually Mommy would be staggering around the kitchen, gabbing on the phone with some date or friend, well into her pregaming for the evening. But there was no sign of her.

He rounded the corner into the living room and saw why. She was passed out on the couch, sprawled across the cushions with a bottle of wine clasped in her hands.

“Mommy?” He called out. She didn’t respond. He approached her and she didn’t respond to that either. This wasn’t completely unheard of, Mommy occasionally overdid it on her afternoon vodka, but usually her drunken sleep wasn’t this deep. She would rouse to his voice and grin and squint at him and slur and burble a greeting. But it seemed like today she was too far gone to even do that.

Reaching the sofa, Cal realized she was still in her nightie and bathrobe. She hadn’t bothered to dress. Drinking before she got dressed was normal, but never getting dressed? Mommy was proud of her appearance, she liked picking her clothes and makeup every day. This was new. He shook her shoulder, gently calling to her, and her head just nodded to the side. There was a puddle of drool on her chest.

Cal started tidying up. Maybe he could retrace her steps. He gathered the empty wine bottles from around the room, a couple had rolled under the coffee table. Lining them up on the mantle, he counted four empties, plus the one in her hand. That was pretty standard…unless…he turned back towards the couch and gently pulled the one she was clasping free. He held it to his nose and—ugh, yuck, it burned. Sure enough, she’d been putting vodka in the wine again. He hunted around in the couch cushions and found the bottle of Smirnoff 100 proof he’d been expecting. It was half empty. It went on the mantle with the wine.

Cal regarded the row of bottles thoughtfully. As he gazed at them, he lifted the half full bottle of red wine and vodka he’d freed from Mommy’s grasp to his lips and sipped, trying not to wrinkle his nose and cough. Mommy could practically chug this stuff, he didn’t know how.

He relished the heat that flooded his groin as he drank. He wasn’t supposed to, but Mommy looked so gorgeous when she drank…it was hard not to copy her. And when Cal drank, his head went fuzzy with thoughts of Mommy and his cock felt so good to touch….

Cal shook himself from his distraction and continued sipping and pondering. Four and a half bottles of wine fortified with overproof vodka was a lot, definitely more than she usually drank. But last week she’d had a whole box of wine and a bottle to gin and he’d still been able to rouse her enough to get her to stumble from the couch to bed so she could sleep some of it off before her date for that night showed up.

Cal decided to search the rest of the house, bringing the bottle with him. When she regained consciousness, Mommy would think she had drunk it, so he might as well take advantage. It wasn’t every day he got to steal something this strong.

He started with her bedroom. He was expecting to find another empty wine bottle on the nightstand or in the bed, but there weren’t any there. Instead, he found an orange pill bottle on its side on the dresser, rectangular white pills spilled around it. He picked it up and examined it.

“Xanax??!?” He cried in surprise. “Where did she get these!?” Mommy’s dates occasionally gave her presents like this, but she was usually not shy about bragging about them—if not to Cal, then on the phone where he could hear her. She hadn’t said anything about a pill plug. Had she hidden it on purpose? Last time she’d gotten coke, Cal had to hide it after her third night of not sleeping. She’d been mad, but he thought she’d forget, like she forgot most things…

Cal tidied the pills. It took him a minute. The concoction he’d stolen was doing its work. It was starting to get hard to grab things. He giggled and headed back to the living room, swigging as he went. He understood why Mommy did this all the time. It was irresponsible, but alcohol made him feel so good…

Back on the couch, Mommy had slumped onto her side. One of her tits had popped loose from her nightie. Cal stopped and stared. He wasn’t supposed to see this. He sipped from the bottle. He wasn’t supposed to…

Emboldened by the alcohol, he stepped forward and pulled on her nightie. Not much, but it didn’t take much. Just enough for her other tit to pop out. He stepped back quickly.

“I can’t believe I did that…” he mumbled. He took another drink and stared at Mommy’s bare tits. The cogs in his brain, lubricated by booze, slowly began to turn. God knew how many of those pills she’d taken…even half of one was supposed to be enough for the average person, and she didn’t usually do pills. He hadn’t seen any half pills when he cleaned up, so she had done at least one whole one. Knowing her, it was more likely she’d taken at least two.

He took another drink and knelt in front of the couch so he could watch her more closely. Her heavy tits had fallen to either side of her chest. She was drooling again, onto the couch cushions this time. There were hickies on her chest and neck and remnants of last nights makeup on her face. She must have taken the pills really early, right after he left.

Cal took another drink for bravery, then reached out to stroke her soft, squishy thigh. No response. This close, he could smell the booze and perfume and sweat on her, and it was almost as intoxicating as the contents of the bottle he’d pilfered. He leaned back, suddenly ashamed.

Cal would never have told anyone, but he had such dirty thoughts about Mommy. At night, when she was out, he would touch himself imagining the strangers she would let touch her, the drinks she would down. When she came home stumbling drunk with a random men bigger and older and stronger than Cal, he would stroke himself furiously to the sounds they made in the next room. Sometimes he would even sneak over and peek through the crack in the door to watch, touching himself over his underwear so as to not risk being caught naked. When he stole her booze and got himself tipsy, he would even imagine—even worse things, things he was too ashamed to even imagine sober.

Cal took another drink. He could sense the edges of his vision getting fuzzy and his judgement getting worse. Mommy’s body was off limits, but it was right in front of him, and she was so far gone…she probably wouldn’t be back for a while…

Cal chugged from the bottle and gave in. He leaned forward and began to suck on one of Mommy’s tits. His wine-stained saliva drilled over it, but he had drunk enough not to care, and it wasn’t like she would notice. He dropped the wine bottle to grab her other tit, eagerly sucking and massaging them, greedily making the most of what he could steal away from her drunken body. Her only response was to moan slightly and stretch out on the couch—she didn’t wake at all.

“Fuck, Mommy, look how wasted you got,” Cal whispered between desperately gulping at her nipples. He imagined her popping the pills into her mouth, chugging wine, shrugging and popping more. He imagined her washing it all down with vodka. The image made him rock hard and he couldn’t help but rub himself against the sofa, humping through his pants like a desperate puppy.

Mommy shifted again, causing her nightie to ride up and expose her pussy. Cal leaned back from her tits and stared, unfocused. Her bush was unshaven…he wiggled across the floor to get a closer look, still knelt in front of the couch where she slept as a worshipper kneels before an altar.

Fuck, he’d only seen her pussy through the door, or from a distance when her dress really rode up. It was fat and her hair was thick and he could see her slit glistening. He could smell her…it was too much. He buried his nose into her hairy mound, desperate for more of her musky smell. He huffed it like a dog, desperately nuzzling into her cunt. The smell made him drool and his tongue lolled out. He clumsily lapped against the wet folds of her fat pussy, drunk an inexperienced and desperate. She tasted so good. It wasn’t enough to hump against the couch, he felt like he was going to explode. He unzipped his jeans and fumbled for his cock, touching himself to the taste of his Mommy’s cunt.

As he rubbed himself, an idea spilled into his head. He could—no he shouldn’t—but—no this was Mommy, he should—shouldn’t—fuck. He could slide his cock into her exposed wet pussy. He could come inside her. He could fuck Mommy and she would never know.

Drunk on fortified wine and forbidden pussy juice, Cal climbed onto the couch with his Mommy. His cock rubbed against her thighs and he groaned at how soft she was. Unable to stop himself, he crawled over her and started rubbing his hard cock against her exposed pussy. His inexpert oral ministrations had somehow made her even wetter. “I’m sorry Mommy, I’m sorry” he whimpered into her ear. Then he slipped inside her unconscious cunt.

Fuck, she felt like heaven. Cal had never felt anything like this. She was burning hot and wet and tight. His hips jumped and twitched as he helplessly rutted into her like a needy little rabbit, moaning and whining above her. “Mommyyy, Mommyyy, I’m sorry—fuck, I’m drunk Mommy—you just feel too good…”

He wasn’t going to last long. He was going to spill his pathetic, disgusting seed inside of Mommy’s heavenly pussy. What if he knocked her up? The thought made his cock jerk almost painfully. She wouldn’t even know it was his. The men who fucked her, half the time they took the condom off partway through and she was too drunk to notice, and the other half of the time she was too far gone to even suggest a condom. “Fuck, Mommy, you’re such a slut,” he whined breathlessly, red faced and sweating as he spasmed, an orgasm wracking his body. He stayed inside her until his cock finally stopped twitching. Exhausted, he slid off of her and back onto the floor.

Sitting in front of the couch on his knees, he could see his white seed sliding out of Mommy’s cunt. Even though he just came, his cock twitched at the sight. He’d really fucked Mommy. Would she notice? The booze was still clouding his mind. He leaned forward and put his tongue out again, this time drunkenly eating his own cum out of Mommy until it was all gone. She probably wouldn’t notice now.

Cal staggered to his feet, belt and jeans clanking unclasped around his waist. He stumbled to the bathroom and grabbed a towel, bringing it back to the living room with him. As clumsy and drunk as he was, he did his best to wipe down and clean up Mommy. He always took good care of her. He loved her. He picked up the mostly empty bottle of red wine and vodka and drained it before setting it on the mantle, doing up his pants, and staggering out of the room, still in disbelief at what he’d done.

Two hours later, Cal was in the kitchen making dinner when he heard movement in the living room. A drunken but melodic voice cried out, “Ah fugg, Ah’m lade!!” Heavy, staggering footsteps thundered down the hall and Cal heard the shower turn on. Mommy was finally conscious—and it sounded like she hadn’t noticed anything. He breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t expected her to, but if she had…God. He would’ve been in trouble.

Half an hour later, Mommy came stumbling into the dining room in a spangly black dress and her silver stripper heels. Her hair was swept up, her makeup was done, and she was definitely still on the sloshed side of inebriation.

“Heeeey Cal!” She slurred, staggering forward to give him a hug. As her tits pressed against his chest, his cock jumped at the memory of sucking them and he ducked his head to the side in shame. She didn’t notice. “Shorry, I didn hear you *hic* get home. A nishe man ad *hic* worg gabe Mommy shome *urp* new……medishin, bud it makes me a lil shleepy.”

“That’s ok.” Cal replied, freeing himself gracefully from her sloppy embrace. He gestured towards the stove. “I’m just making some mac and cheese, do you want some?”

“Awww you’re SUSH a good boy, Cal!” She crooned, patting his cheeks. He blushed deeply, unable to forget how very much he had not been a good boy earlier today. He turned toward the stove and stirred desperately so she wouldn’t see his face.

She was glancing down at her phone anyway. “Ya know Ah’d lub *hic* too bud I can’t. I’be godda *urhp* date.”

“Oh, with who?” Cal asked, as nonchalantly as he could manage. He hated how much he hoped it was the pill guy again.

“Da nishe *hic* man who gabe Mommy the medishin!” She chirped back happily. Cal’s gut fell but his cock twitched. So she might be doing that more often.

A car honked outside. “Have fun!” Cal said.

“Ah will, I alwaysh *hiccup* do.” Mommy replied, heading unsteadily for the door. “Don wait up!” She called over her shoulder as she went out into the night.

But he did wait up. At 3am when the front door opened, Cal was sitting by his cracked bedroom door. He watched as a strange man carried Mommy down the hallway. He stuck his head out after they passed to look at her. Her bare feet dragged behind her on the floor, and her black dress had ridden up above her bare ass. She was making noises—it couldn’t really be described as talking.

“Ahhhhh woooo….heooo *hic*…..*hic*….all…” she mumbled.

“I know, honey.” The man responded. His voice was deep, his tone dismissive. “Don’t worry, we’re at your place.” He looked around, spotting the open door to her bedroom, and dragged her inside. Cal crept up the hall. He heard the shaking of a pill bottle and the man chuckled. “I guess you liked these, huh?”

“Issa….ezz *hic*….ooooo.” Came Mommy’s reply. The man laughed at her. Cal clenched his fist.

“Well, the stuff I gave you tonight is even better.” The man purred. Cal crept closer. From the bathroom hallway, he could see through the open door without being spotted. He hunkered down quietly. The man had thrown Mommy face down on the bed and was sliding her dress even higher up her hips. “C’mon, honey, how about one more for the road?” He said as he undid his pants.

“Uuuurrreeeehh…*hic*” was Mommy’s only response. Cal watched as the stranger freed his enormous cock and stroked it a couple of times before pulling up on Mommy’s hips and thrusting into her. He grunted as he fucked her. His thrusts were powerful, slow, and confident, not at all like the shaky bunny rutting Cal had done earlier that day. Cal’s cock grew hard as he watched. The man kept talking Mommy as he fucked her, even though she was in no state to respond.

“They were *ugh* right about you.” He panted slightly. “You’re an *ungh* miracle. You’ll fuck anybody anywhere, if they *urgh* get you high first. And you never seem to *ugh* get tired of it.” He slapped Mommy’s ass as he thrust into her and Cal’s fist tightened again. The stranger didn’t let up, jackhammering deeper and deeper into his Mommy. “How does your *ungh* cunt still feel so good after I *ugh* spent all night whoring it out?”

The animalistic sounds continued for a few minutes before Cal heard the man let out a visceral groan followed sharp bark of laughter. “Wow, fucking disgusting whore. No one does it like you.” The strange man zipped up his pants and turned away from the unconscious woman. “Same time tomorrow?”

Mommy didn’t respond, but Cal didn’t think the man really expected her to. The stranger strode down the hallway and out the front door, closing it firmly behind him. Cal grabbed a towel and crept into Mommy’s room.

Cal’s Mommy lay on the bed, hips up, arms and legs sloppily splayed out. A stream of piss ws flowing down her thigh into a pool under her on the bed. That must have been why the man laughed. Her dress had been hiked and pulled so her ass, cunt, and tits were all on display. Her eyes were open but rolled back in her head. Cal tiptoed up to her. “Mommy?” He whispered. She didn’t respond. He moved his hand in front of her face—her eyes didn’t track it. Mommy was gone again.

Cal climbed into the bed behind her. Her pussy was red and puffy now, and there was a glob of semen dripping out of it. Cal, full of shame and greed, leaned forward and started licking and swallowing it out of her. She smelled amazing, even stronger than she had earlier. Her cunt stank of sweat and cum on top of her smell. Cal loosed his hard cock from his boxers and humped her satin sheets as he tasted her pussy for the second time today.

It all snapped into being very real for a second. He was eating a stranger’s cum out of his piss-drenched Mommy’s drugged out cunt. The moment of clarity made him cum instantly, all over his Mommy’s legs.

When he had eaten her cunt clean, Cal wiped the cum off her legs and slowly dragged her dress off over her numb and floppy limbs. He would’ve changed the sheets, but he wasn’t strong enough to lift her off the bed. So he put her head on a pillow and pulled the covers over her before kissing her sweetly on the forehead.

“I hope you keep seeing this one, Mommy.” He whispered. “I like him.”

[scary-noodlesblog]

I Like You Best

Eyeless Jack x Reader, based off of the song "I Like You Best" by Ella Red

TW: SUGGESTIVE THEMES, SUGGESTIVE SONG, NO SMUT THO, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, ALCOHOL INVOLVED

It was finally Halloween. The one time of year everyone in the mansion could go out, as themselves, in public. Jeff and BEN almost always plan something. This year was a karaoke bar, and BEN called ahead to make sure "costumes" were allowed. Slender already gave everyone the okay and their day off, so everyone was getting ready to go.

Well, the human-looking proxies got ready, such as you, Masky and Hoodie. You dressed up as (costume choice), Masky was a zombie, and Hoodie was going as Scorpion from Mortal Kombat. The list of attendees were as follows: you, EJ, BEN, Jeff, Jane, Clockwork, Toby, Masky, and Hoodie.

Once you got to the room BEN rented you took in your surroundings. Alcohol was absolutely everywhere, everything from tequila, to gin, to whiskey, to beer. And there was at least a grand worth of it. Makes sense when your eyeless boyfriend needs probably 6 of them to himself just to get a buzz, let alone drunk. The couch on the right wall was a black leather, you can hear BEN yelling something about a "casting couch". In front of it was a dark brown coffee table with a massive bowl of candy on top. On the left wall was the counter lined with adult beverages. The wall furthest from you had a cooler, presumably with drinks other than alcohol. And lastly, there was a huge TV above the counter. Next to you and the door was the karaoke machine.

Almost everyone immediately headed towards the booze, EJ included, highjacking (pun intended) the Grey Goose. Being the gentlemen he is, he also grabbed you a shot of (alcohol choice, if you dont drink pick a soda).

First up on the karaoke list was BEN of course. He chugged half a bottle of tequila before singing "I Just Had Sex" by The Lonely Island and Akon. Because of course. Jeff tried to be all edgy and sing "In The End" by Black Veil Brides. Neither of them were really good. Jane went up to sing "Without Me" by Halsey and it was beautiful. She couldve been a singer if Jeff hadnt attempted to, ya know, kill her.

After a couple hours, you were cuddling up to Jack as everyone drank and had fun. Masks were off, everyone was chill. Any makeup was messed up. Jack, at this point, had drank approximately 8 or 9 bottles of various alcoholic beverages, he was just starting to reach drunk. BEN has been trying to force you to sing for about an hour at this point, everyone encouraging you, even Jack. Obviously he wont force you though. But Jack's encouragement was slowly giving you confidence.

You timidly stood up and walked over to the machine, you could feel everyone's eyes on you. You input your song of choice (the song above). Holding the microphone to your lips, you stutter, "u-um this is for Jack," a nervous smile reaches your lips. You get a few "aws" from your audience as the music starts.

Da do do do do do do do, do do do

I like you best, when your head's between my legs

Wrap your fingers around my neck, try to ca-catch your breath

Send kisses down my chest, make the walls turn a bright red

I can't tell if it's a threat

And you whisper.

Thats when I like you best

Jack's face was so red you thought his head was going to explode. You couldn't tell if it was the song or the alcohol. BEN and Jeff wolf whistled, Jane and Clockwork cheered you on. Your confidence only builds more.

Hey, how you been? I've been thinking about your skin

When you're pressed up against mine

Word is on the street, chew up everyone you meet

But you take me to cloud nine

Jeff and BEN are teasing Jack now, but he couldn't care less. He was trying his damndest to not get hard. And he wasnt doing a good job at it.

Wine and dine, I'll make you mi-i-i-ine

You do a little twirl with the "mine", giving Jack a smirk. You knew you were in for it when you got home.

Tie me with a rope, no it isn't just a cope

I just like you better when you're cold

You give Jack the "bedroom eyes". Everyone else is cheering you on, even though you and Jack both were basically eye-fucking from across the room. The sexual tension was thick.

I like you best when your head's between my legs

Wrap your fingers around my neck, try to ca-catch your breath

Send kisses down my chest, make the walls turn a bright red

I can't tell if it's a threat

You whisper again, staring Jack in the eye sockets.

Thats when I like you best.

Hes growling lowly, no one can hear it but you can tell, his teeth are slightly bared, a snarl forming. You move toward him to tease him as you sing the next bit.

Drooling like a dog, were you one of Pavlov's

On your knees begging for a taste

You gently grab his chin, getting close to his lips.

I'll take you for a spin, baby love isn't a sin

When you look at me, Im your saint

You turn around and saunter back over to the karaoke machine with a smirk, swaying your hips as Jeff and BEN only comment on how hot this is.

Wine and dine, I'll make you mi-i-i-ine

Lean in for a kiss, no it isn't only this

I just like you best that way

You turn around, hand on one hip as you give a big, show winning smile.

I like you best when your head's between my legs

Wrap your fingers around my neck, try to ca-catch your breath

Send kisses down my chest, make the walls turn a bright red

I can't tell if it's a threat

You whisper once again.

That's when I like you best

An intrumental plays, giving you time to slowly make your way to your boyfriend, plopping into his lap. Oh its over. He's so hard it puts diamonds to shame. You can feel it, you're not going to be able to walk till New Year's. You lean back and belt out:

I like you best!

Leaning forward again you look into Jack's eye sockets.

I like you best!

Not taking your eyes away from him you close out the song.

I like you best when your head's between my legs

Wrap your fingers around my neck, try to ca-catch your breath

Send kisses down my chest, make the walls turn a bright red

I can't tell if it's a threat

You whisper the last line.

That's when I like you...best

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Code Blue Ch. 56 - Reap What You Sow

Summary: Josie has Deja Vu. Craig squirms at a sweet sight. The silence speaks volumes to Jo. She and Craig continue to bond. A past trauma is explained. Craig reels. A close encounter and some bacon rattles Jo. She soon takes another stab in the heart. Craig gets down to belated business and gives an ominous order. Jo spontaneously reacts to a dream. Lee sees the red.

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst, alcohol use, anxiety, kidnapping depictions, mob hit

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist:

Salem, Massachusetts

March 23, 2022

You groaned as the sunlight and the sizzling sound and smell of bacon awoke you from your drug induced slumber. As usual, you felt hazy and drunk from the anxiety meds, hence why you never took them and you hadn't a clue how you got in your bed. As you sat up and let your eyes begin to focus, you saw Craig sitting on your couch, sipping on his beloved red wine.

"W...what...time is it??" you mumbled.

"Well hey there sleeping beauty. It's almost noon." he softly spoke with a sweet smile. "Welcome back to earth. How you feeling?"

"Like I went on a drinking binder till all hours of the morning. I'm so thirsty. Wait...have you...been here all night?"

Craig chuckled. "I have. You don't remember getting up in the middle of the night and drinking half a bottle of wine all by yourself as you sat with me and chatted my ears off for over an hour?"

You squinted in thought for a moment. "N..no? I..I did?"

"You did and I told you it wasn't a good idea to drink and you told me to...and I quote...shut my pie hole and use it to drink with you."

Your eyes widened as whispered words slipped through your lips. "Oh my god...it happened again."

"What's that sweetheart?"

"Oh uh...n..nothing. So uh, what exactly did I talk about?" you asked as you began to get out of bed.

Craig swiftly stood in a panic with his hand up in a stop gesture. "No...don't do that! You...you're only wearing some flimsy nightgown. Here, let me get you a robe or a t..towel or...something er other." he rambled with cheeks as red as his wine as he scurried off to the bathroom.

As the sounds of Craig opening and slamming drawers pounded through your apartment, you placed your hand on your chest and looked down, mouth gaping at your attire that bore an eyeful of cleavage and judging by Craig's reaction, he certainly didn't dress you.

He came out empty handed, feeling the heat of his flushed face and sounding as if he had just ran up a flight of stairs. "Yeah so...there's nothing...nothing at all in there Jo, NOT... even... a clean towel."

Holding your sheet over your chest, a curled smirk arose on your lips as you giggled at the big bad mob man who, in that moment, resembled a nervous teenage boy. "I packed most of my stuff remember? and it's still in my car. I think there's a robe behind the door though."

"Oh...right!" he panted and zipped back to the bathroom, leaving you giggling again.

"I take it I put this on last night?" you hollered.

Still panting, he jogged back, held out the robe and looked away. "Yessss. You woke up, said you were hot and went to the bathroom, then came back with...th...that th...thing on...and you refused to cover up saying things like, It's my apartment, I can dress how I want and...stop being a big baby Craigy, it's just like a dress and I argued that it was a very SMALLLL dress."

The memory suddenly surfaced, but the rest was still foggy, such as the so called long conversation you had with him, hoping to god it didn't involve Lee. As you spaced out, trying to remember, your phone beeped from somewhere in the apartment.

"GAHH!" Craig puffed and spun around with his eyes closed as you hopped out of bed, forgetting all about the robe. "COME ON! Jo, put the robe on."

You heard him but you inattentively countered his request as you incautiously bounced around the room, searching for your phone in case it was your mom...or Lee. "Craig, apparently we sat and drank wine and talked for a long time while I wore this, so what does it matter now?"

He turned partially around to side eye you, hands on his hips. "Yeah well, I wasn't comfortable then and it's no different now. In fact, just so you know, I didn't even look at you while we talked. Just stared straight ahead."

Ignoring him as you found your cell, the knife that Lee had plunged deep into your heart twisted. There was not one call or text from Lee. The one you just received was from Landy asking how you were and informing you that Lee finally replied to his well check on him from yesterday with a text at 10 a.m. this morning that simply stated "she's all yours now."

Your prolonged silence and stillness forced Craig's eyes to look at you. "You...ok?"

"Fuck forever it is then." you mumbled and carelessly tossed your phone on the coffee table., then looked right into Craig's eyes. "So, refresh my memory. What did I talk about last night?" you asked, deflecting with a smile as you roughly grabbed up some old flowers from a vase that were from Lee and took them straight to the trash, for your sadness over him was slowly turning into anger.

How could he just walk away like that? To get you back for the time you RIGHTFULLY did it to him? Your head was still spinning as to how quickly the entire conversation with him at the cemetery went sour. Was it your fault? You never planned on telling him all that extra stuff until later, but when he overheard your mom's call about Gerry, everything just blew up. Maybe it WAS your fault. Maybe you shouldn't have went to see Gerry and that kiss would never have happened. Maybe Lee was right, of course he was right, HE was supposed to be your priority, but regardless, you were still extremely hurt and angry that he just abandoned and avoided you and then said what he said to Orlando as well. You thought that maybe the dawn of a new day would have changed his thoughts, that maybe he would regret what happened, but it was now crystal clear he was not budging. Was it really...over?

"Wellll..." Craig began, trying to mentally block the glorious vision of you in the skimpy satin nighty. "It was a mixture of things, mostly about Megan and what she did to you and then you kept apologizing to me again, over and over about Blaise and you cried and then you randomly said something about being locked in a morgue or something? And you also said you were going to go see Peter to tell him his brother got what he deserved, which I HOPE to god you aren't seriously thinking of doing something so insane! Jason would lose his shit! And after that, you didn't want to talk anymore and just got back in bed. Soooo...what was the morgue thing about?"

You froze in place as the entire conversation came back to you. "I...I can't even believe I mentioned that. It's not something I talk about...to anyone."

"Well, you WERE a bit sloshed on the alcohol and anxiety meds cocktail."

"Yeah, true but...if I'm being honest, I'm comfortable with you Craig. I kind of feel like I can tell you anything. I trust you."

"Comfortable....CLEARLY." he stressed with a smirk. "But...that umm, that means a lot Jo, that you trust me after the whole Jason thing."

"Water under the bridge Craig. Speaking of my brother, have you heard from him? He took off with Britt and just vanished. Do you think he may have found Ethan and that's why he's missing too?"

"I haven't, no. Jo, I'm sure if he found Ethan, I'd have Blaise back already."

"Assuming Ethan even has or had her."

Craig sat down and gulped the rest of his wine. You could tell your words upset him.

"I'm sorry Craig. I shouldn't have said that."

"No Jo, you're right. It's all just an assumption. One that makes the most sense, but maybe Liz had someone take her, or maybe Ethan's POS father is involved. Believe me, I've already thought about all this and have some men tailing him and also watching some people Liz knew."

You sat down beside him. "God I wish I could do something. I'm always going to feel like it's my fault, no matter what you say."

Craig smiled his sweet smile and poured more wine. "You ARE doing something. You care for one thing and that means the world to me and...you're here for me too. You have no idea how much that helps me."

You gazed at him for a moment as you made a difficult decision. "Peter....Peter is the one who locked me in the morgue drawer."

Craig nearly choked on the red vintage as he simultaneously swallowed. "Umm, say what now????"

"Yeah, it was years ago. Shortly after we first met and he became dangerously infatuated with me and..."

"I know all about Peter and his psycho daddy because of Jason and he never mentioned that."

"Because it really fucked me up and I made him promise to keep it to himself. I was traumatized enough and didn't want people knowing for many reasons. It's where I developed my fear of small spaces, storms and anxiety and easily blamed a lot of that on Megan."

"I understand that. Storms?"

"Yeah, you don't even want to know what it sounds like inside one of those during a hurricane. I'll just start from the beginning."

Craig put his glass down and took your hand. "You do NOT have to tell me all this Jo."

"I know but...I...I want to. I need to talk about it before it drives me crazier than I already am and like I said...I feel comfortable with you."

The sweet smile came back. "Well, for the record my dear girl, you're not crazy."

He patted your hand and sat back with his wine. "Alright...fire away sweetheart."

"Well, I'll make it as short as possible because as much as I need to talk about it, I don't care to....but maybe if I confront it, the nightmares will stop...maybe even my fears will lessen or go away completely. Jason told me that once."

"Well, if anyone would know about that, it would be him."

"SO..." you began with a heavy sigh. "Once I found out who Peter truly was as a person, I immediately broke off the short and very stupid fling I had with him, but he wouldn't let me cut him loose. There was a bad storm and I was at Gerry's, who was at work. I remember the power had went out and the next thing I knew, I woke up in a dark space that I could hardly move in and it was hard to breathe. The air was tight and I...I could smell the chloroform that Peter used on me. I began to panic as the thunder shook and pounded the cold metal beneath me and then...I felt the vibration of my cell. It was in my pocket and not only was I surprised that Peter missed it, but that there was even a signal inside there. I was able to maneuver myself just enough to pull it out. It was Gerry and answered and told him I didn't know where I was but I was able to describe just enough to him before Peter yanked me out and grabbed my phone.

He wasn't angry, but more in a panic himself and it wasn't because of the phone. It was because I then realized I was in a fucking morgue and I started crying, but I was too weak from the chloroform to get up.

He stood over me and said I had to be quiet or his father would kill us both since Faison hated anything and anyone that involved Jason and he considered me a betrayal by Peter. I guess Faison's father owned the funeral home which was counties away from Salem and he used it for refuge. Peter's plan was to ride the storm out there and then take me away to another country but he didn't expect his father to be there. He told me he was sorry for what he did but he knew I'd never come willingly. He then said I'd have to stay in the drawer until he could figure something out and he put me back in it and said he'd be back soon....but he never came back. I couldn't open it from the inside and I was running out of air and then....I woke up, choking for air in Gerry's arms. I never saw Peter again until the night I was shot and he was finally caught."

Craig stood up and began pacing and ranting with that one little vein popping out of his reddened forehead. "That son of a bitch, waste of space motherfucker! He should have never made it to prison. I always believed Jason would track him down, but the snake always slithered through the cracks. They need a death penalty for kidnapping! Believe me you, there will be no jail time for who took my daughter! I'll be judge, jury and executioner....the grim fucking reaper!"

As Craig turned to make another round of angry steps, you were right there to stop him, placing your hands on his. "Hey...try to calm down before you get a stroke or something."

"Calm down? Jo, all I see is red right now. I can't even imagine what you must have went through but seeing the attack you had last night sure says a lot and now I can't get the image out of my head of how frightened Blaise must be. She's only 4 for fuck's sake and she's with someone she don't know. What will this do to her?? I mean, this happened to you a long time ago and it still affects you."

"But that's the thing Craig. She's so young. There's a good chance she will forget it over time and who knows? Maybe she does know them and she's not scared at all? IF it's Ethan, do you really think he would hurt her?"

"Maybe not, but it doesn't stop my brain from imagining the worst."

"I know. Ughhhh, if I just would have told you right away where she was, you'd have her here right now."

Craig released a breath full of tension and then became calm as he fixed his blues on your teary eyes. "Once again, this is not your fault sweetheart. You had your own shit going on. I'm going to say this one last time and I want you to hear me ok? I don't blame you and I do not think you did it because I kept Jason a secret from you and I am so sorry that I ever accused you of that in the first place. I was out of my mind with grief and 3 bottles of wine."

"THAT you were." you lightly chuckled.

"AND...even then, after how horribly and unforgivably cruel I was to you, you stayed right there and tried to help me. Why...why couldn't we have met sooner?"

A mutual moment of gazing silence occurred and his hand came up, letting his fingertips lightly trace your neck as he pushed your hair back from your shoulder.

"W...what are doing?" you asked as you nervously angled your shoulder away from him.

"Just admiring a very beautiful vision."

You felt your body involuntarily tingle from his touch. He was so close, you could smell the sweet wine on his warm breath and then, maybe it was fate or a sign when the next thing you smelled was burning bacon.

You jumped back, staring at the smoking skillet. "Oh shit, Craig. You forgot about the bacon!"

As he ran to take it off the stove, you just stood there in severe mental anguish, thinking of how the same thing happened with you and Lee more than once when you had became lost in each other.

"Welp, those little piggies went to the market and back again." he jested as he came back to you, noticing how you were fighting back tears. "Hey, what's wrong love?"

You went right for the robe and put it on as you told a white lie. "Oh, uh...n..nothing. It's just the smoke. Burns my eyes."

Craig saw right through the lie. "Seems it is burning more than your eyes. I um...I better get back and let you go about your day. Sorry about the bacon. I'll buy you some more."

"No, don't be sorry." you softly laughed and meant what you said next with a passion. "It's just bacon."

His eyes were sad as he smiled. "Oky doky. I'll...see you later or whenever. And please, whatever you do, please do not go see Peter. It's what he wants and it will just cause you more pain."

"Hey!" you shouted as he turned to leave and pulled him back to hug him. "Thank you. Thank you for what you did. Staying by my side and all. You saved me Craig. I will never forget that."

Shocked like he was that day in the brush when you hugged him, he allowed his arms to return the embrace, only a little bit tighter than before. "You're welcome sweetheart. Just don't forget me either."

He released you, softly stroked your cheek as he smiled and then left.

Once Craig closed his apartment door behind him, his entire demeanor changed. He hurled his jacket across the room, opened another bottle of wine and took out his phone to make a call.

After a few hours of moping in your bed, you retrieved some luggage from your car, took a rust free shower, ate three bowls of honey nut cheerios and a banana, then sat down with the last of Craig's wine and your laptop to release some feelings on your Facebook, in hopes that Lee would see it since he was dismissing your texts and calls.

But as you opened your profile, one thing stuck out to you like a sore thumb. Your relationship status now said single. Immediately, you went to his profile and it said the same and not only that, he had unfriended you.

That knife that was lodged in your heart was ripped all the way out and thrashed right back back in. "Oh my god! You've got to be joking Lee!!"

You slammed the laptop shut and gulped down your wine, but when you went to refill your glass, the bottle was empty and you didn't have any more so now, you stared at it, contemplating if you should go ask Craig for another bottle...or maybe share one with him instead. Why not? You were now single.

Don't fear the reaper eerily echoed through Craig's studio as he poured his wine and gave a merciless command to Jeffrey. It was simple and straight to the point, for Craig was in no mood for chit chat and Jeff knew it. The mobster mostly known as Negan and sometimes John, comfortably kicked back in the chair, intrigued and enthralled, diligently listening as his hazel hues deviously slitted. He was all up for the job.

"It's time for Peter August to be handled. Make it as painful as possible. Fix him." he casually expressed with a matching smile, then knocked back his wine and left the room.

Three minutes of dozing off was just enough to invite the bad dreams right in and prove to you that talking about your traumas only made them worse. Once again, you were back in the cold, black box as the grim reaper slowly stole your breath, waiting for you to take his hand and suddenly, there was panting Peter towering over you, swearing it would be you and him forever. You could still smell his sweat.

Saved by the beep of your phone, you gasped awake. It was Jeffrey, who paused at your door, wanting to stop and talk to you in person, but he had arrangements to make, for Craig's directive wasn't going to be a simple task to pull off. Not even for him.

"Hey darlin. Sorry, something came up. Tail light and the hunting trip will have to wait. Hope you're ok. You never texted me back. talk soon. - J"

"Ok. and I'm fine. Just busy." you quickly replied and then with a spur of the moment decision, you grabbed your keys, feeling that maybe you needed to face the trauma instead.

Lee gulped down his go to Red Bull and hopped in the shower, running late for work due to his late night of consuming the wicked whiskey. Three hours sleep was all he managed to get as he had tossed and turned, unable to erase the vision of your face when he told you goodbye in the cemetery. And then there was Peter. He had seen him walk up to his parent's graves and just stood there....laughing, over and over and over.

He scrubbed faster and harder as the anxiety clawed at him from the inside out. In an effort to kill it, he cranked the water to a scalding temperature. When you had told him Peter wanted you to go see him, it was like someone had thrown red paint in his face because red was all he could see. Peter wasn't responsible for what happened to his parents, but he despised him nonetheless and he wanted him to pay and his idea of that was for Peter to be reunited with his father and brother in hell.

As he finished rinsing the soap from his overly heated skin, he heard laughter again, but this time....it was Jacob's. He spun around and stood frozen.

"J..Jacob? Is that you buddy?"

Silence then filled the bathroom except for the sound of the shower. As he turned to shut it off, Lee witnessed rust water pouring all over his chest. Gasping and yelling, he jumped back, frantically swatting it off of his body. "What the fuck!!"

He quickly shut it off and just stood there, watching the red water swirl down the drain as he remembered you telling him about experiencing the same thing. Was Jacob trying to tell him something just as you had believed he was?

His entire plans for the day had now changed. Lee was no longer going to work. He hated the place anyways and could not have cared less if he was fired. There was somewhere else he wanted...needed...had to go. Someone he needed to finally see face to face and settle the score.

"See you in hell Sam." he whispered to his reflection in the mirror and went on his way.

@redeemer46

[unreadpoppy]

That Which Lies Beneath - a Minthara x Galatea Medieval AU (Chapter 5)

Chapter 4

Read on AO3

Taglist: @littlemoondarling

After a few rounds of cards, and many bottles of wine that had been stolen from the cellar, Galatea was positively drunk. 

“I don’t…I don’t know how you’re still…up.” She said, in a slurred speech. The two were sitting on the floor, by the fire, surrounded by pillows, the cards spread in between them, long forgotten. Minthara could not even remember how they got there. 

“The beverages of Menzoberranzan are stronger. This is nothing.” 

“Well, if I ever…go there or…visit your house, remind me not to drink the wine.” Galatea chuckled. “I’d pass out instantly.” 

She smirked playfully, lifting a brow. “Visit my house?” 

“Why, yes…it’s what friends do” she hiccuped “isn’t it?” 

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t have a lot of friends.” She shrugged. “Do you consider us friends?” 

“Yes. I mean… we have played cards, drank wine and shared stories. That has to count for…for something.” She picked up the rest of the bottle and raised it up. “One last drink. To friendship.” 

Minthara picked up her glass, and raised it too, downing the rest of it in one go. Galatea did the same, but in her state, half of the drink spilled down her face. 

“Oh, fuck me.” She said, trying to wipe the drink from her chin but making more of a mess. 

“Allow me.” Minthara chuckled and crawled over to her, grabbing one of the trains in her dress and dabbing her face with it.

Galatea inhaled deeply, realizing how close they suddenly were. “But…your dress…it’ll stain.”

“I’ll burn this blasted thing once I’m gone. A wine stain will not be a problem.” 

“Okay.” She breathed out, a blush forming on her cheeks and she hoped Minthara wouldn’t notice it. She lifted her hand and traced the tattoo on her neck. “What…what does it mean?” 

Minthara sighed at the touch, Galatea’s sharp nail causing goosebumps. “It’s the symbol of House Baenre.” 

“It’s very pretty…it looks like a-a spiderweb.” She looked into her eyes. “Fitting.” She chuckled and then looked down as Minthara stepped back. 

“Done.” 

“Thank you.” Galatea whispered. 

She nodded and stood up, offering a hand to Galatea. “You should get some sleep. I’ll be on my way.”

“Good…good idea.” The tiefling nodded and took her hand, standing up and stumbling on the bed. Minthara was almost out when she lifted her head to say “Thank you…for tonight.” 

“Of course.” 

She closed the door gently behind her, and when she turned around, she was face to face with Galatea’s younger sister, Briseidas.

“What are you doing here?” The young princess asked, crossing her arms. 

“We were playing cards.” Minthara said plainly, holding her hands behind her back. 

Briseidas eyes narrowed. “Why would you two play cards?” 

“Is she not allowed to play cards?” 

“No.”

“Then why do you care?” 

“Because she’s my sister. And no one’s supposed to be in her room.” 

Minthara eyed her, noticing the uneasiness she had and smirked. “You think I hurt your sister.” She chuckled. “Don’t fret. The times I’ve poisoned entire families, I always began with the annoying little sisters first.” 

Briseidas gulped and her eyes widened and Minthara took a step closer and whispered in her ear “Now, go to your room and leave your sister be. You can talk in the morning.” Minthara brushed past her and marched towards her chambers. 

. 

Galatea woke up the following morning with a splitting headache. Everything hurt: the sun peaking through the window, the sound of the maid entering her room, even the smell of the wine that still clung to her felt like an attack on her nostrils. 

Were it up to her, she’d stay in bed for the rest of the day, but a hand nudged her shoulder. 

“Your highness, the bath is prepared.” The maid said. “You have to go while the water’s still hot.” 

“Let me sleep.” She said, covering her eyes with her arm. 

“I cannot. You’ve already missed breakfast.” The covers were ripped from her and before she could react, the maid beat her with the pillow, like a child would to their sibling. 

That got Galatea to sit up. Her maid, Jenevelle Hallowleaf, looked at her with a mischievous smirk on her face. She had been hired a few years ago, after the princess’s nanny had passed away. Little was known about Jenevelle’s past, as she came from a small village of Selune worshippers, but that hadn’t mattered much to Galatea’s family, so long as she did not speak about Galatea being a tiefling. 

“You do know I could have your head for that.” 

Jenevelle shrugged. “You could, but I doubt you would. Besides, if you don’t bathe, everyone will know you snuck out last night.” 

“How do you-”

“Besides the fact you slept in your costume, I can smell the wine from here.” 

Galatea grumbled something under her breath before standing up and discarting her clothes before walking to the adjacent bathroom where the tub filled with steaming water was. She sighed at the feeling of the water on her skin, and a few seconds later, Jenevelle was beside her, washing her hair. 

“So…how was the ball?” She asked. 

“Curious, are we?” Galatea turned around to look at her with a raised brow. 

“What can I say? I like knowing what happens in these events.” 

“Very well. I didn’t stay long but it was like most balls. Nobles dancing and drinking and young men hounding my sister to get her attention. I was barely able to speak to her.” 

“Speaking of her…I heard a rumor in the servants quarters today-”

“Heard a rumor is your way of saying you were eavesdropping on the other maids?” 

“It’s not my fault they were speaking so loudly and I just happened to be nearby. Anyways, they said that the princess was quite upset.” 

Galatea turned fully around, a frown on her face. “Why?”

“Well, I couldn’t hear the rest because I had to come here, but the princess was seen crying.”

“Oh, for hells sake.” Galatea sighed. “Hurry up. I have to speak to her.” 

“Of course.” 

. 

Once she was ready, Galatea made her way to Briseidas room. She knocked on the door three times and one of Briseidas lady-in-waitings opened it, letting her inside. 

“Sister.” Briseidas said. She was sitting next to the windowsill, a book in her lap. “What are you doing here?” 

“I want to speak with you. Alone.” 

“Can’t it wait?” 

“No.” 

Briseidas sighed, dismissing her ladies. Galatea walked to her, sitting in an empty space near her, and pushed her veil aside to look at her sister.

“What do you want?” The young princess asked. 

“I was told you were crying. I got worried.” 

She crossed her arms, looking out the window. “What did you hear?” 

“Only that you were upset.” Galatea inched closer to her. “Did something happen last night?” 

“Why do you care? It’s not a matter that concerns you, anyways.” 

“Well, unfortunately for you, the gods cursed you with a sister that cares a lot about your well-being.” She reached forward, placing a stray hair of Briseidas’s behind her ear. “Besides, it is unlike you to be like that after a ball.” 

Briseidas looked at her, conflicted. “I…I can’t say what happened.”

“Why not?” The girl shook her head. “Briseidas, if you tell me, I can help you.” 

“You don’t understand, Gal.” She took in a deep breath, and Galatea could see the tears forming in her eyes. “If I say anything-” she hid her face behind her hands as she began to sob, and Galatea brought her close to her chest, shushing her and rubbing her eyes soothingly.  

“Yo-you have to promise me you tell anyone.” Briseidas said, her voice wavering. 

“I promise, now tell me what happened.” 

“That…that drow woman…I-I saw her, walking out of your room.” She sniffed, and Galatea tensed. “Sh-she said she’d poison us all if I said anything.” 

“Minthara said that to you?” 

Briseidas gave her a small, quizzical look before saying “Yes…Lady Baenre didn’t like me questioning her presence.” 

“What did you ask her?” 

“I wondered why she was leaving your room. She said you were playing cards, and then threatened to poison us all if I said anything. I-I got scared.”

Galatea cupped her cheek and smiled softly. “Don’t worry, nothing’s going to happen. I’ll make sure of it.”

Briseidas nodded, and hugged her sister.

.

It did not take long for Galatea to find Minthara, as she was in the garden. What she did not expect was for her to be accompanied by Erzoured. 

“What are you doing out of your room, Galatea?” He asked harshly. 

“Father.” She lowered her head. “I need to speak with the Lady Baenre.” 

“And what in the hells could you want with her?” 

“Actually, it was I who sent for her, my lord.” Minthara said. 

He raised a brow. “Indeed? And why have you?”” 

“I, well-” “Lady Baenre is having issue of the…female persuasion, father. You would not understand.” Galatea took a step forward, linking her arms with Minthara and bringing her under her parasol. 

“I see…and was Briseidas not available for that task?” 

“Tis the sort of thing your youngest would not understand, my lord.” 

“Indeed. Besides, my sister is quite indisposed after last night’s ball, we must let her rest.” 

He narrowed his eyes, looking at both of them before rubbing his forehead and sighing. “Alright. But be quick. Lady Baenre and I have much to discuss.” 

“Of course.” Galatea bowed her head and walked away, bringing Minthara along. 

“What is so pressing?” The drow asked, once they were out of earshot from Erzoured. 

“My sister told me she saw you walking out of my room and that you threatened her and our family. Is it true?” 

“Yes.” 

Galatea sighed. “What happened, exactly?“

“Does it matter?” 

“To me, yes.” 

Minthara huffed. “Very well. I exited your room and she was outside of it. She thought I had caused you harm and did not believe when I told her we were playing cards. I then said that if I ever decided to poison your family, I’d begin with her, especially if she mentioned it to anyone else.” 

“Minthara.” Galatea said in a scolding tone. “You can’t say things like that to her, she believes them. Had father visited her first, you could have been in trouble.” 

“Your father’s a weak man, he wouldn’t have done anything.” 

“If it were anybody else crying, perhaps. But for her, he’ll do anything.” Galatea sighed and turned to look at Minthara. “I just…we have important plans set in motion. I wouldn’t want them to be compromised by you getting in trouble.” 

Minthara raised a brow. “I do not get in trouble. But…I’ll try to mince my words next time.” 

Galatea smiled, although Minthara could not see due to the heavy veil covering her face. “Thank you. I’ll retire to my chambers, but we can speak after supper.” 

Minthara nodded, with a small smile on her face. “Of course.” 

And with that, Galatea left.

. 

Later that evening, Minthara was sitting in her chambers, after having dinner, waiting for the princess to arrive. She looked at the fire, thinking about what she had to say. 

It didn’t take long for her to hear a knock on the door and to Galatea make her way inside, sitting next to her.

The two stayed silent for a moment, before Minthara said “I shall return home in the next few days. I had already overstayed my welcome and there’s business there I must attend to.” 

“Oh.” 

Then, Minthara added “However, I do want us to continue our conversations, even if it is through the written word.” 

Galatea raised a brow. “Is that your way of saying you want to exchange letters?” 

“Yes.” 

Galatea chuckled. “Is there a particular reason for that? Besides keeping each other updated on our plans.” 

She hesitated before answering. “I…enjoy our conversations. I would not like for them to end simply because of distance.” She smirked. “Besides, isn’t that what friends do?” 

“Ah, yes. Friends.” The tiefling smiled and shook her head. “Alright. I’ll write you letters.” 

“Good.” 

[noirvette]

WE NEVER EXISTED

[band smau]

[SIXTEEN]

masterlist.

prev. | next.

cws: depression, substance abuse

Note: This chapter and chapter 17 will be happening simultaneously whereas Chapter 18 will happen a day after the events of these two chapters.

Cold, you were physically cold. Mentally numb. The situation didn't feel right to you. It didn't feel real. Being holed up in your apartment with nothing but a bottle of alcohol was your sense of normalcy; a fucked up version of normalcy but it made you feel okay.

You weren't okay though. You don't think you'd ever feel okay again, if you'd ever feel loved again.

Twitter had sent a barrage of nice and comforting messages on your recent tweet, which had been a couple days ago, but you couldn't bring yourself to even scroll on your phone. Every time you did, Kenny was there, in some way, a remnant of who he was to you was there.

It may have been in a tweet he sent, he could even be mentioned in a tweet about you, and those stupid fucking twitter threads talking about how "Every time Kenny mistreated Y/n" pissed you off greatly.

Instagram was worse, you haven't been able to stomach the images of him on your feed, having him still up in a weird way.. made you feel sane.

The Kenny who cheated on you was a different Kenny in the photos you told yourself. The Kenny in your feed, the Kenny in your past tweets, the Kenny in paparazzi pictures was YOUR boyfriend Kenny.

Your Kenny wouldn't cheat.

He wouldn't EVER cheat.

He wouldn't cheat.

He wouldn't.

He did.

Your throat closes up at the memory of last night, of Kyle telling you. Of Kenny desperately telling you to not check Twitter, his I love you's, his sorry's, the hugs the band gave you.

You thought back to how Clyde clung on to you, how he was the last one to leave because he refused to let you be by yourself until you shut him out of your apartment.

How Stan fell to his knees beside you as you finally tried to get up to go home. How he sat with you on the cold unforgiving ground until the feeling in your legs were back.

How Nichole blocked Kenny's number for you, how she called Kenny on her phone and yelled at him for a solid half hour for what he did to you.

How Kyle was the first one to tell you, how he held you so tightly and whispered that it was okay.. you could've almost believed him.

How the band walked you home, how they didn't want to let you go, how they didn't want you to be by yourself.

You felt numbness, you felt despair, you just felt empty. Like your whole world suddenly got mirrored and nothing felt right anymore.

You felt angry, sudden bursts of anger that made you want to destroy everything that reminded you of Kenny and yet as soon as those bursts came they were gone. It was back to being numb and feeling like stone.

You felt sick, from the situation but you're sure in your hazy cloudy mind that the two bottles of empty wine and the third half drank isn't helping you at all either. You weren't even a fan of wine, you just saw the bottles and grabbed them, heading to your room.

You heard your phone go off besides you, probably numerous texts from the girls, probably some from the boys too, but you couldn't bring yourself to turn over.

How long had Kenny been pretending?

Did Kenny harbor feelings for Red prior to you leaving for the tri-state tours?

All those times you had been together since you've been back.. was he pretending you were Red?

When did he fall out of love with you? Why didn't he just tell you?

Why did?

Why would Kenny?

Your thoughts were spiraling and you take another sip of wine, you planned on getting drunk enough to where your thoughts were so jumbled that you couldn't make sense of your own self.

Maybe that way you couldn't feel anymore pain..

You just didn't want to feel anymore. It was all too much too handle, the numbness, the anger, the sadness, the self pity, you didn't want to handle this anymore. You wanted an escape.

You downed the glass and poured yourself another.

"I shouldn't.. drink anymore." You thought, a lone logical, smart thought ran through your mind.

You took a sip.

You moved to grab your phone and you unblocked Kenny. You're not sure why, maybe your drunk mind craved him so much despite what he did that you did the one thing you promised Nichole you wouldn't do.

You took another sip.

Kyle sighed, the stress of dealing with making sure money went back to people and solidifying changed dates sucked. He didn't even bother fully solidifying new dates, he wanted to make sure you were fully okay first.

Kyle wanted to do everything for you. Starting with making sure you were okay.

He knew exactly how badly you were hurting.

Well, maybe not exactly, but he knew you weren't doing okay and he felt guilty for not being there right now, especially because he told you the news.

He doesn't regret telling you, he just regrets the consequence of telling you.

Being told news that your boyfriend is cheating on you is world shattering. He knew there was no easy way to tell you, he just didn't want to see you in a world of pain. And so his guilt festers.

The band group chat was silent. Everyone was giving you space but Kyle couldn't help but wonder if that was the smart move. Were you self destructing? Were you lashing out? Were you taking this more in stride and a bit more smoothly?

Did he need to be there for you?

He knew yes he needed to be there for you, but did you want him there? Would you be angry if he showed up? If he made sure you were okay.

You hadn't responded to his texts, anybody's texts for that matter. Which made Kyle a bit nervous. He was scared for you, worried about you.

He was worried about himself.

Kyle pushes the hair out of his face and looks down at the ground. It was no secret to anyone that Kyle had fallen in love with you in high school. He wouldn't be surprised if you even knew that, but Kenny had begun dating you quicker than he could've blinked.

He didn't want to push himself onto you like he was hoping him being there for you meant he was hoping a relationship would start.

He wanted you to heal.

Second guessing himself was self destructive, he got that, he just didn't want his selfless actions to be perceived in a certain way. Especially with the media traction, he knew rumors would start and he didn't want to divide the friend group anymore than it already is.

Kyle sighed.. he'll check up on you tomorrow.

Kenny was at his wits end. He didn't know what to do. He royally fucked up, he knows that, hell the whole world knows that.

People on Twitter coming after him, people on Twitter congratulating him, he felt sick reading those who agreed with his actions. He didn't even agree with his own actions.

He was sorry. He was so deeply sorry and he doubted there was a way to actually get his sorryness across to you.

He didn't want your forgiveness. Kenny was grown enough to recognize this was a mistake that was undoable, that there was no way he could ever come back from this.

Nichole yelled at him at him last night and he soak in every word, everything she said was true. He was lowest of the low, he was a blood sucking leech.

That he didn't deserve you, that you didn't deserve what he did to you.

That he was scum.. that people who are trashy belong to each other and how Nichole 'hopes he and Red have a life they deserve.'

He sighed, he was blocked on your phone. It was the only thing he was blocked on. He still had access to your Twitter and Instagram, even Snapchat was still accessible.

Most of the friend group had blocked him too.

The only ones who hadn't were Stan, Butters, and Tolkien.

Tolkien was out of the country though right now and when Tolkien finds out what's happening he's sure he'd get blocked too.

Kenny groans and turns his phone on and debates sending you a message despite knowing it wouldn't go anywhere.

He does so anyways, pouring his thoughts into one final message even if you won't receive it.

His surprise came from when the message went through.

Ding!

Your phone goes off and you open your bleary eyes to read the message, eyes widening when you realize it was Kenny.

Anger filled your entire being again. How DARE he gets to talk big about how he doesn't deserve your forgiveness.

How dare he gets to act like he's a victim in this as well. He could he just text you talking about how he understands how badly he fucked up?

Of course you didn't deserve to be cheated on, who fucking does? Is he serious? You were pissed beyond belief that you couldn't even fathom the stupidity that Kenneth McCormick was.

You quickly typed a response and re-blocked him. Kenneth 'Kenny' McCormick was dead to you. You never wanted to deal with him ever again. You shut your phone off and laid back in bed, exhaustion taking over and you let it.

TAGLIST: @captivq @kimiesstuff @bwljules @the-cooler-kira @1one1person1 @kenny-the-ken @neenieweenie @n0tangeliccc @frogindisguise @revzxn @mirophobic @gonefiishiing @musiclovebot @bootsieboo @bonez4brainz @s0l4riss @1996kj @sweetadonisbutbetter @scinclaitnoir @okarigold

[phoenix-and-found-family]

Context: This angsty train wreck right here

Reginald Crane knew that he was drunk. Or, if not drunk, dangerously close to it.

So many different people had sent him alcohol, all of them different varieties and quality. It was probably meant to be a consultation, but every drop just reminded him of their face. Of how happy they were whenever a new agent thought they could out-drink them.

His other selves had chewed him out, saying he shouldn't have taken their agents with him. Incredibly irresponsible, one had said. Why didn't you tell them not to come?

He tried to explain his motives, but the other him cut him off. Look, I understand you care for your agent. We know what that's like. But involving our operatives is against so many protocols that it isn't funny. And they got seriously hurt.

In retrospect, he understood their message. He would have made the same argument if he was on the other side of this. But he remembered how angry he felt, how pissed he was that these other versions were lecturing him about this situation.

What would you have done?! If your agent was the one who got taken, would you have let them go without a fight?! Would you listen to protocol over trying to save them?! Would you just write up their kidnapping as an incident report and then move on?!?

He took another sip from his wine glass before he stopped kidding himself and took a large swig from the bottle.

He didn't notice the door opening until someone walked in.

"Reginald, have you seen Phoenix lately? They aren't answering my calls-"

She stopped when she saw the three open half empty bottles.

"... something... happened to them, didn't it?"

"What makes you say that?"

He replied dryly as he put the bottle down.

"You haven't drank that much alcohol in one sitting since Rising Phoenix."

He sighed.

"They... I messed up, Roxana. They got taken by this woman named Vadas who disabled their tracker and nearly killed two agents who weren't supposed to be there but were because I didn't tell them to leave and now I have no idea where they are or if they're even still alive-"

Prism snapped in his face to get his attention.

"Hey, earth to Crane."

She had a look of fierce intensity, the same look she got whenever she was trying to solve a problem. She saw this as an equation.

"What would they say right now?"

He blinked.

"What?"

"You heard me. If they walked into this office right now, and saw you like this, worried about them, chugging wine, what would they say to you?"

He looked at his desk and smiled against his will.

"Probably ask if they could have some, too."

She smiled.

"Okay, you got me there. But you know what I mean."

He thought about it a moment before answering.

"They would ask me what was wrong. Then they would help me up, talking about something they knew I wouldn't understand just to keep me awake until they got me to the medical wing."

"Would they let you sit here, giving up?"

"...No."

She grabbed his arm with a determined look on her face.

"Then neither am I."

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

@wyvchard guess wat :3

@the-one-and-only-043 it's Reggie having a depressive episode with alcohol involved because idk

[ipostdumbthings]

To Be Cared For

Pairing: Astarion/Tav

Characters: Astarion, F!Tav

Rating: G

Genre: Romantic Fluff

Summary: Tav tries a new way of showing Astarion how much she cares for him.

-----

When Tav had told him that she wanted to surprise him with something, Astarion had thought he had some idea of what it would be. She did like to spoil him when she could, finding fun ways for him to indulge his appetite for blood or nice things. One night she’d offered to get drunk on wine before he drank from her, to see if he could get a little tipsy off the effects in her blood. He somehow didn’t think it all too wise to have a half-drunk on wine Tav half-drunk of blood. Seemed like a recipe for waking up Shadowheart for some emergency healing.

Tav had managed to surprise him today though, or more accurately: baffle him. She’d led him to a secluded room that was almost completely empty save for several buckets, most of which were full of water, a chair in the middle of the room, and a few bottles full of unidentifiable potions sitting nearby. She stood before him positively beaming at him with a ladle in hand. What in the hells was she planning?

He tried to connect the dots, really dug back in the memory to see if any combination of these things could spark some concept of what she had in mind, but he found nothing. Nothing but Tav smiling happily at him, wiggling the ladle a little to get his attention.

“You’ll most definitely want to take your shirt off, just to keep it from getting wet.” She finally spoke after several minutes of his confused expression and her all too eager one. Another moment passed between them before he sighed and tugged his shirt off, which he laid carefully on the ground. 

“What exactly are we to be doing in here, darling?” He asked, his tone curious in a way that made it clear he was prepared to deliver a playful insult based on whatever came out of your mouth next.

“Is it not obvious?” She asked, looking genuinely surprised. She stopped, turned, looked at the buckets, potions, and the chair, then turned back and wiggled the ladle again like that meant something. What did she mean “is it not obvious?” What weird series of firings in that brain of hers had ever led her to this? Was it a sex thing? He banished that thought quickly, not because he didn’t think she was capable of indulging in some strange things, but because she knew he wanted to wait. Ugh, almost made him want to gag from the sheer sentiment, he trusted her too much. 

“Obvious? You’ve got six buckets, a myriad of mystery potions, a shirtless vampire, and a chair. What conclusion am I to draw?” He asked, pitch rising just enough to get across his incredulity.

“You’ll be one step closer to solving that and other mysteries when you take a seat,” she said and paused dramatically, “… in the chair!” With that she stepped to the side and held out her arms  presenting the plain, boring, wooden chair like she’d completed a magic trick. Gods, when did he become this person? The one that actually enjoyed following around some insufferable do-gooder, positively charmed by frivolous her antics?

“I didn’t know it was possible to be affectionately annoyed by someone until I met you,” he said, but he did take the seat so dramatically offered to him. Once he sat down she moved an empty bucket directly behind the chair, then started laboring over a couple of the buckets with water to sit beside him. He’d have offered to help, but he was going to enjoy watching her struggle just a bit, it was a little funny the way she had to almost waddle to get them in place.

“Oh, the decisions you’ve made, Astarion, that have led you to a long future of precisely that,” she said with a feigned ominous air. He was going to be stuck like this for a while wasn’t he? So miserably pleased by how silly she was. Then she rested a hand on the top of his head and gently pushed until it was draped back over the chair. That opportunity was pounced on in the form of a very sweet, upside down kiss. She parted from him and immediately dunked the ladle into a bucket of water, and it suddenly clicked. She was going to wash his hair. 

That was unexpected, a genuine surprise, really. It gave him a weird feeling in his chest that he couldn’t quite place, a feeling that seemed new to him. Not an unwelcome one either, it was comfortable. Safe, even.

“Would you indulge my curiosity? I’ve had a burning question in my mind since the second you buried your fangs in my neck.” She asked and used her free hand to guide the water she poured into his hair away from his face. He was surprised it was still warm, must have had it burning hot when she set all this up to make sure it would be comfortable for him by the time she got started. She worked the water through his hair, and he felt that playful irritation he’d indulged in earlier melt away. He watched her, though she was too busy paying attention to what she was doing to return the gaze. There was tenderness in the dutiful way she took to the task.

“And what would that be, my sweet?” He asked. She flicked her gaze to him with a small smile on her face, and he knew whatever burning curiosity she had, it was not over pressing or dramatic matters. He wasn’t yet sure why, but he found that to be a great relief. With his hair well saturated, she took one of the potion bottles and poured a viscous, yellow fluid onto the palm of her hands.

“How do you manage to style your hair so perfectly without the use of a mirror?” Her question was rewarded with a light laugh. She was far from the first to ask that question, but the truth was rather boring.

“With 200 years of practice, any skill can be honed,” he said simply. She rubbed the liquid between her hands before her gentle fingers worked between the strands of his hair to find his scalp. If he hadn’t already loved her before, that would’ve been when he fell for her. The careful way she massaged the potion in, taking such sweet time to go over every available inch. It wasn’t enough to do it for him, she was making sure to do it right. She was taking care of him.

And in that moment he realized why he hadn’t wanted any serious questions from her, why he hadn’t wanted to dwell on any misery or challenges. This small act of care had rendered him vulnerable in a way that was brand new to him. He’d been forced into vulnerable positions for most of his life, and intimacy was something he’d always traded for security. He hadn’t really ever considered a scenario in which vulnerability might actually be enjoyable, or intimacy free of the baggage of sexuality and transactions.

“I suppose that’s true,” she said, nodding with a smile. She didn’t seem to notice he was staring at her again, watching her and the peaceful joy she wore as she worked. He swallowed hard, a strange lump forming there. 

“Why are we doing this?” He asked in a tone that completely betrayed how fragile he felt this moment was. Her hands froze and she turned her eyes to his concern knitting on her brow.

“Do you want me to stop?” She asked and began to pull her hands away, he was quick enough to snatch one by the wrist to stop her. He pulled it close and gave her a soft kiss on the inside of her forearm before directing her hand back to his hair.

“No, please,” he said ever so gently, “I want to continue. It’s just that, well, no one’s done anything like it for me before.” Had he signed up for this too? Along with the affectionate annoyances? Not the shampooing specifically. But… this? He couldn’t think how else to phrase it, even to himself. It felt like an eternity stretched into a moment where he peered into her eyes looking for some kind of assurance. Her hands went back to work, and he knew the answer before she said it.

“I’d be glad to do this sort of thing often if you’ll allow me,” she said, sounding a little tentative. Like she wanted to give him space to assert a boundary. This required none though.

“I would love nothing more, Darling.”

[aziraphalalala]

Hey :)

Ask you anything? Okay :D

If you would fall into the back of the bookshop right now and Crowley would be there, staring you down, unblinking, what would you do?

This poured out of me. Thanks, @nerdypixel

--

Aziraphale was gone.

Well, good riddance. Better to have the ugly truth of him come out now, rather than later.

He gave it his all, but it was in vain.

The “I forgive you” still trembled in him, like a wild, hungry thing. It ate at him. It carved him out, left him brittle and broken.

Aziraphale was gone. The fucking Supreme Archangel Aziraphale had fucked off to fucking Heaven and left Crowley alone.

From the backroom sofa, Crowley extended his hand petulantly. Another bottle of Château-neuf-du-Pape 1921 floated unsteadily to him. He uncorked it with a vicious gesture (which was considered rude in the extreme in several cultures, including this one), and drank deeply.

He didn’t need that fucking angel—

“Excuse me?”

“Wot?”

There was a lady. A lady had entered the bookshop. Hadn’t he closed the door? Crowley couldn’t remember.

“Excuse me. Are you Mr. Fell?”

“WOT?”

“The door was open, and it started pouring like the end of the world out there, and me with no umbrella, so I thought, ‘Why don’t I drop in that delightful bookshop in the corner, I’ve always wanted to see it’, and—“

“Do I look like I run a bookshop?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I ssssaid, do I look like I run a bookshop?”

“Um, well. Don’t you? It kinda looks like you do.”

Crowley heaved a heavy sigh, and wobbled up to his feet.

“Nggyyeeeaaaah. I suppose I must do.” He picked up a stray book off the table. Jane Austen. Of course it bloody was. “Umm, so, what was it you said you wanted, exactly?”

She squinted, looking suspicious, and asked: “Are you drunk?”

“No. Yes! A little. What of it?” stammered Crowley.

“Nothing! I don’t mind a tipple myself, now and then.”

She looked half-intrigued, half-ready to escape back into the safety and predictability of English weather. Having been raised with three brothers and a mother with a penchant for bra-burning, she wasn’t easily intimidated. She could deal with a moody bloke. She resolutely stood her ground. 

“Lost someone, did you?”

Crowley’s head snapped up. His mouth was opening and closing, like a fish on dry land, struggling for breath.

Any other day, he would have snapped his fingers, and slung this nosy, too-curious-for-her-own-good insolent woman straight into a vat of acid.

This was not any other day.

This was this day, and he was a post-heartbreak demon, attempting discorporation through tears and extraordinary amounts of alcohol.

“Yeah,” He sighed with visible exhaustion.

“Was he the blond one?”

“Coulda been a she,” he retorted, cheekily.

She levelled a gaze at him, utterly unimpressed.

Crowley stared back, mutely.

“Yeaaahh, the blond one.”

“Was it your fault?”

“Was it my fault?!” he blurted, like spitting out food that tasted rotten.

“He wants to save the world. I think he can’t, and shouldn’t try. I wanted to run away. He wanted to stay. End of story.”

He sat back, indicating he was done arguing, and that he was undeniably right.

She stepped closer, understanding in her eyes. “So, he left you… for a job opportunity?”

“Nngggghhhyyeeaaaah, you could say that.”

“Well, good riddance. If he didn’t choose you, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“He kind of does, you know.”

“Rubbish. I’ve been there, you know, it’s absolutely not worth it. If he’s got an ounce of sense in him—“

“He really kind of doesn’t.”

“—then he’ll come to realise his mistake soon enough, and come crawling back.”

Crowley slumped even deeper into the sofa. Staring at his shoes, he poured himself another generous helping of wine.

“I… hope so.”

“He will, or damn him.”

“He’s just, he’s an angel, you know?”

“He’s really not, if this is how he treats you.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” he paused. ”And, if he does come back, I’m gonna make him do the apology dance for a century.”

“Do what now?”

“He will watch the entirety of Golden Girls with me from start to finish. Twisssce,” he hissed.

She looked a little confused, but decided to show support. “Attaboy.”

“Not a boy, but thank you.”

Crowley stoop up abruptly, wobbling a bit, and went to pick up another glass from the tray on the side table.

“He’ssss going to hate it, and he’s going to remember he misses m— sushi, and Shostakovich, and the bloody Sound of music!”

She stepped closer again, pleased that this strange, dark not-a-boy before her was emerging from the worst of his gloom. The rain had stopped.

Crowley wielded the bottle of wine at her like a sword.

“Care for a tipple?”

[dreamersinthedaylightinspo]

Conversation that might happen when Lucien and Helion finds out

- I saw people talking about the nuance of Helion and Lucien being father and son so - here ya go!!

Lucien knew that Helion would come. He waited, watching the sun's lazy journey across the sky. He drank a bottle of wine in his suite, but he didn't leave. He was not going to Helion. He was done groveling in other courts for scraps of belonging. This time, he would not be the victim of his circumstances. Let the High Lord of Day come to him.

The afternoon faded to goldenrod, and the wine was gone, and Lucien was beginning to think he'd miscalculated - when there was a knock at the door.

Lucien got to his feet, half out of habit, and half out of curiosity. Helion was his father, or had fathered him, or something of that nature. He'd seen Helion perhaps a dozen times a week since he'd come to the Day Court and though their conversations were never long or friendly, it was like they were meeting for the first time now. He wanted to know what Helion would say to him. If he'd explain himself. Perhaps he'd embrace Lucien. Perhaps he'd throw Lucien out of the palace and tell him to forget the whole incident ever happened.

After a pregnant pause, Helion stepped into the suites. His eyes were bruised with sleeplessness, his robes slightly disheveled.

"So," said Lucien.

"So," said Helion, in much the same voice. He closed his eyes for a moment. "I suppose you must have a lot of questions for me."

"No."

Helion raised an eyebrow. "No?"

Lucien grinned. He wasn't drunk but he felt like it - he felt -

"I don't give a single solitary shit what you have to say to me," said Lucien. "You're a selfish piece of shit. You care only for yourself. Why should anything change now?"

It was rage. That was what he was feeling. White hot, blinding rage, pulsing in his chest, thrumming in his veins, ringing in his ears. Lucien could not remember the last time he'd been angry. Even when his father - Beron - when they had murdered Jesminda for the crime of loving him. He had never felt so angry as he did when Helion simply folded his hands behind him, and tried to apologize.

"I've treated you poorly," he was saying. "I invited you here as a courtesy and yet -"

"You didn't even bother to speak to me. You treated me like dirt."

Helion’s eyes flashed with irritation. "Oh, come now."

"No, don't be modest." Lucien grinned, and wished that he could grow fangs as Tamlin did. "Admit it. You care less about me now than you did before you learned that you fathered me! You're here saving face. Well, now you can tell everyone that you spoke to me. Go on and lie and tell them about how pleased I am to be part of your little family. Lying is what you do best."

It was gratifying to see how upset Helion was, how hard he was trying to keep his cool. The High Lord of Day barely concealed a sneer as he snapped, "You would rather be Beron's son?"

"I'm my mother's son," Lucien replied. "As far as I'm concerned, I have no father."

At this, Helion's expression darkened.

"You have no right to blame me -"

"You used her," Lucien snapped. "Used her and tossed her away like so many other females before!"

"DO NOT," Helion thundered, "PRESUME TO TELL ME HOW I FEEL."

He had gone too far. Perhaps if he'd had less wine, Lucien would have stopped. His fury burned brilliant within him; he stood, and shouted back: "Was it fun for you!? The chase, the conquest? And when you were done, you threw her back to the wolves like -"

"I loved her."

Though his voice was still harsh, his eyes were far away.

"From the time I was a boy. She was the first person I ever loved. More than anyone."

The emotion in Helion's eyes was genuine. Lucien hated him.

"Oh! Isn't that just wonderful?" Lucien's voice rose to a shout. "Don't lie to me, don't pretend. If you had any -"

"Do you have any idea of hard it was for me?" Helion snarled. "I had no choice! She could not leave and I -"

"For you!? How hard it was for you!?" Lucien roared back. "You self-important piece of shit, you have no idea! You have no fucking idea what my father put her through!"

His voice nearly broke with the force of his anger. Helion seemed slightly stunned - and then, he was resigned. A coldness passed into his features, until Lucien was gazing at a marbled impression of a man.

"Yes," said Helion. "In fact, I do."

And with that, he turned, and walked back out the door.

Lucien turned to the table behind him, seized the empty wine bottle, and hurled it as hard as he could. He hit the door frame and glass rained down around Helion’s heels but the High Lord of Day did not look back. The door to the suite boomed shut, and Lucien was alone in the fading afternoon light once again.

[archivalofsins]

This took a bit but I hope it succinctly explains my feelings on this matter.

Without further ado-

Let's discuss Kazui

He's such a lady killer, isn't that right~

Though he's also finding the time to kill the truth as well.

I'm not saying this is the woman at the bar. However, I am in a very impolite way asking where the fuck did the woman at the bar go? We never see her eyes in Half and this woman didn't have a face there. That is notably odd.

A woman that didn't have a face before has a face now and the woman who had one in his first video is nowhere to be seen. That's just odd.

We see Kazui doing some of his favorite pastimes during cat. Drinking and smoking.

Portal Timeline

20/06/11

Mikoto: Kazu-san, do you have any hobbies? I kinda want to get into something that’s a bit more mature. The sort of thing I could still be doing 10 years from now.

Kazui: Ahh, hobbies, huh. I wonder…… Hm, I guess trawling? I have a friend with a boat, so we went out on it a lot. Other than that, I guess when I go out drinking sometimes I play darts…… On that note, do you drink?

Mikoto: Ahh, I’ve tried darts before too. Drinking, huh. I guess I can probably hold my alcohol a bit better than the average person. Back when I was a uni student I drank a lot. But…… you look like you drink a lot too, Kazu-san.

Kazui: ……can you tell? That’s probably my biggest hobby of all of them. I like drinking anything. Beer, wine, shōchū, the lot.

21/08/05  (Kazui’s Birthday)

Kazui: Oh, Shina-chan? How scandalous, coming to a man’s room in the middle of the night like this. Well, not that it’s really a room, just a cell. ……just kidding, since you brought some drinks with you, I’m assuming you’ve come to wish me a happy birthday, right? Thank you.

Mahiru: Yep! Happy birthday Kazui-san~ Clap clap clap! But as well as that~ ……I also just maybe wanted to use it as an excuse so I could ask you for some advice over drinks, I suppose?

Kazui: Advice, huh. Well, you’re more than welcome, but I don’t really know what advice an old man like me could give you. I haven’t got the first clue about what love is like for a young girl nowadays.

Mahiru: Ahaha…… Don’t worry, much as I’d love to talk about that too, um…… er, Kazui-san. You know, recently I’ve been having the same dream every day. Lots of people were denying my actions…..Denying my thoughts…… that sort of dream.

Yet, for some reason in Cat,

"Phew, oh wow I’m drunk- Hey, so what if I said I liked-liked you, what would you do?"

He presents himself as having a low alcohol tolerance using being drunk as a convenient excuse for his confession in case it goes poorly.

We later see that when with his wife they've both downed half a bottle of champagne, a beverage that ranges between 11.6% alcohol to 12%. Whiskey what he's drinking at the bar ranges from 40% to 50% if it's apple whiskey like implied then it clocks out at 35% alcohol at the least.

Shōchū one of the alcohols he mentions by name ranges from 25% to 37% alcohol. So, tripping up over one glass of whiskey that isn't even finished is noticeably odd for him considering his previous statements.

However, considering his posture and staggering in the middle of the mv he does seem to have had a rough night.

Possibly drinking more than he usually does for one reason or another. However, I don't believe he was that drunk when he asked that question. I think he just drunk more after whoever he asked gave their answer.

It's also kind of odd that the bartender and possibly the girl from the bar both seem to be attending Kazui's wedding.

I'm not so certain about the girl at the bar because she just doesn't have a face here, but I wouldn't be certain even if she did as we never see her eyes just her face in Half. The guy in the middle on the other hand definitely looks like the person we see behind the bar in Half.

20/08/05 (Kazui’s Birthday)

Haruka: ……Kazui-san…… um…… Are you, happy…… on your birthday……?

Kazui: Hm? If I’m being honest, at this age I don’t really think much about birthdays any more. But…… it can be nice to have as a means to start something. Like, for a friend you haven’t seen in a long while, it’s a good excuse to suddenly start up a conversation, you know? Being able to hear from a bunch of people like that makes it fun.

Haruka: I-is that, so…… That’s… nice…… I’m, kind of… jealous.

But, I’d also, want to hear from people…… e-even if, there isn’t a reason……

Kazui: Haha, but it can’t always be like that. You know, for us adults…… we always want a reason or an excuse for everything. ……hm? Wait, is today my birthday? So is that why you went out of your way to talk to me yourself for once, Haruka?

"There was a widow who, at her husband's funeral, fell in love with his colleague. She killed her son the very same night. Why? She'd see that man again at her son's funeral." - Caligula Effect Overdose Sun Temple Riddle and Answer.

If someone could use a funeral for that sort of thing who's to say another person couldn't use a wedding.

"I just wanted to ask, so it’s out in the open. I just got a little greedy." "I realize the futility, but I still can't help but dream."

We see a green apple roll beneath Kazui's foot before getting a glimpse of a familiar visage. Now with an apple adorning their head instead of a mask.

As the divide between truth and lies grows thinner.

"All those things I wanna do that I can’t say out loud I gotta keep it inside and act."

We see him become less and less capable of sustaining the act he's been putting on up until-

It snaps.

"Let’s take a breather; Love (plus) Destiny = Crap, smash it, shatter it, bye-bye. To be caressed by you, that would be perfection."

"I wanted to be loved, just like a cat. Maybe act capricious, on my word and at my fancy."

Man admits he wants to be for the streets and gets judged for it.

I want a relationship like a cat's- I want to be able to leave and come home whenever. Be a bit capricious- Change my mind and mood whenever at my own discretion. Try a little bit of everything eat birds on the street, chase red dots, push glasses off tables, be the predator instead of the prey!

Because-

"It's better to be a let down than be let down."

Is it so wrong to want something casual to come back home to?

To just want to-

For appearance sake.

"So, it’s wrong? Oh, shove that! INNOCENT, isn’t that right?"

To want to avoid getting greedy and complicating things with unnecessary honesty.

Imposter Boulevard Trial 2 Voice Drama

"Isn’t it unusual to openly reveal a personal dislike as a personal dislike?"

-Later-

"You said I was unfaithful – in other words, that I cheated or committed adultery of some kind."

"Yeah. That’s what I deduced from your footage."

"It’s not true. It didn’t even turn into infidelity. It didn’t turn into anything like that. For me… In my case, you see."

Cat

"Phew, oh wow I’m drunk- Hey, so what if I said I liked-liked you, what would you do? I just wanted to ask, so it’s out in the open. I just got a little greedy."

"The beating of this heart... see... it’s no longer about good and bad... it isn’t. I realize the futility, but I still can’t help but dream."

Being honest, telling the truth, speaking candidly, none of those things are about being viewed as good or bad. The only thing that's about is telling another person one's genuine beliefs and feelings.

It's right after this line the mask and gimmicks fall away, he takes off his ring and tells his wife "Let's take a breather."

An old-fashioned way of saying let's end things here whether it be for a bit or indefinitely.

Half

"All this time till now has hurt me, the scales of my heart has decided to sway. If continuing to hide is called unhappiness, not even one word will get to you."

Cat

"All those things I wanna do that I can’t say out loud I gotta keep it inside and act."

"I can’t stop, I can’t be normal. This feeling, it can’t be gratified. I can’t stop, I can’t be normal. This feeling, it’s yearning to be satisfied."

Finally saying those things left unspoken and literally dissolving their marriage.

Oh, then there's the more than casual lyrical similarities between Kazui's and Mahiru's songs.

"Since when have I ignored my feelings? It’s better to be a let down, than to be let down yourself. I just wanted to touch, to caress. I just wanted to be touched. So, it’s wrong? Oh, shove that! INNOCENT, isn’t that right? Maybe, perhaps... or... could it come true... like. It’s for the sake of true love, who wouldn’t lie for that?"

"This can’t go on, something’s got to give, I even love saying the words, “I love you” My emotions are out of control, that’s inconvenient? I don’t care! Tell me, oh tell me why, won’t you just accept me?" - "Mon-mon-monstrously in love in love. Mon-mon-monstrous, cuz I love you so much."

"Love (plus) Destiny = Crap, smash it, shatter it, bye-bye. That sticky-sweet sequence: Dinner + Camouflage + You-Know-What. Loving Affection (minus) Love, it’s tacky, this two-way deceit. Victim and Perpetrator, let’s keep it simple."

"Clothes Food Shelter + Love and Miss you. “See you next week?” sounding in cadence. The meaning of life while guilty, I can’t even breathe anymore. My lethal weapon: “This is how to be in love with you”. Clothes Food Shelter - Love and Miss you. This adorable, earnest, sincere ♥ Is bleeding, wailing, this is the end- What you trampled is my, “This is how to be in love with you”."

They're just two cheaters who people suspect were not directly involved with their victim's deaths. What's the matter with stating what one likes or dislikes in this situation? What makes one better than the other? It's simply perspective~

So, let's keep it simple and fair, alright?

[butihavejoy]

The thing about it is that Crowley can miracle himself more wine.

He’s drunk – drank? drunken? Aziraphale would know but Aziraphale—

Well, that’s the reason for the copious consumption of wine, isn’t it?

Crowley’s polished off every bottle of wine at his place. And the ones stashed at the bookshop. And a couple he nicked off Nina and Maggie when they were too busy being revolting to pay him any mind.

And he really could just miracle himself more, but it just doesn’t taste the same. And besides, in a weird way, it’s a right of passage, innit? Dragging himself to Tesco to pick up more wine and perhaps some chocolate like a million other broken-hearted—

No. Crowley is not broken-hearted. That’s– that would be pathetic. He is an ancient being, once an angel, nominally a demon though he thinks we can all agree that ship’s probably sailed, and he is not mooning after someone who clearly never wanted him in the first place, thank you very much.

The stock boy at Tesco stares at him, bottle of wine he’d located on the wrong shelf in hand. “Ehm, right,” the boy says, awkwardly, and Crowley has the sudden, terrible realization that he’s said all that out loud. “I’ll just, er…”

Crowley snatches the bottle from him and slinks to the front of the store, hurries to the checkout counter, prays– damnit, insists that no one else noticed that spectacular display of personal weakness, and dumps an entire box of Galaxy bars on the belt with the bottle of wine.

If the cashier notices, she has the good sense to keep her mouth shut, just ringing him up before asking, almost gently, “Anything else, love?”

Crowley opens his mouth to say no at the exact same moment he sees the discarded plant next to the register, clearly a plant that someone rejected. The plant someone picked up, put in their trolley, brought up to buy, and then decided against.

Discarded. Abandoned.

“Herghhhh,” he manages, a sort of incomprehensible low-pitched moan.

She blinks. “What’s that, dear?”

He clears his throat. “The plant.”

“Beg pardon?” He manages a stiff jerk of his chin and she turns, sees the plant, and relaxes, just slightly. “Oh you don’t want that one, love. It’s got some brown spots, see, and—”

“It’s perfect,” Crowley says, growls more like.

She doesn’t pick up on it. “There’s a whole display, just there. Pick a better one, and I’ll use this to ring you out—”

“I want that one!” Crowley half-snaps, half-shouts, because he has not made quite a fool enough of himself in this particular Tesco.

The cashier’s mouth snaps shut and she silently rings up the plant no one else wanted, placing it delicately with the wine and stack of candy bars. “That’ll be—” she starts, and Crowley hurriedly thrusts a fifty pound note at her, not caring what the total is (her till will balance at the end of her shift, anyway).

“Have a good night, dear,” she offers tentatively as he gathers all his wares together, dumping them in a bag he didn’t purchase, before she’s reaches out to rest her hand on his wrist for just a moment. “You’ll be ok,” she tells him in an undertone, and Crowley’s throat is too tight to respond.

He flees from the shop, bag in one hand, plant in the other, his glasses suspiciously foggy. He’s halfway back to his before he looks down at the plant in his hand. The cashier wasn’t wrong – it was a dilapidated sort of thing, half-wilted, with a few dead leaves.

But Crowley knew, with the right touch, and perhaps a few thousand years of caring—

“You’ll buck up,” he tells the plant, something fierce in his tone. “You’ll have to, or you’ll be out in the bin.”

He gets home, dumps the candy on the table, and carries the plant over to the shelf to nestle it in with all the others.

He rubs a thumb against the brown of one leaf, his throat tight again, and it has to be the wine, there’s no other reason for him to choke out, to a plant, “There’s nothing to forgive you for.”

Then–

“I forgive you anyway.”

[asena-graywolf]

Full Time Cleaner || Part 2

The next evening, you prepared for going to Kenma's house for the first time as a guest, not a cleaner.

You didn't need to wear fancy dresses. Otherwise, you didn't want Kenma to think you like her and get spoiled.

You weren't going to act like a loose woman tonight. You would be a dignified lady. You've never been one of those loose women anyway, and you wouldn't destabilize yourself today either.

You wore jeans and a stylish shirt. You waved your hair and put on a light daily make-up.

Now you were ready and you could go. You left the house and walked to the bus stop. The last bus was at 22:30. You thought you could catch the last bus if you didn't stay late at Kenma's house

You waited for the bus for half an hour at the stop. Get on the incoming bus and head to Kenma's house

You got off at your usual stop and started walking to Kenma's house. You entered the apartment, caught the elevator, went up to the 12th floor and came in front of the apartment number 43 and rang the bell.

Soon Kenma opened the door and greeted you.

"Welcome"

"Thank you"

"Be my guest. Get in”

He stepped back to open the door and let you in. You didn't expect to find Kenma in her home state. You were dressed elegantly, but she was at home. He looked pretty shabby in a matted T-shirt and a black wrinkled sweatpants underneath.

“Today you are a guest in this house. I'm not very good at cooking, but I hope you like my cooking"

“Of course I like it. What did you do?"

“Meat sauteed rice and miso soup.”

“Oh! I like a lot."

"Come then"

Kenma took you to the kitchen. He put the soup in the soup bowls.

“Can I help you too?” you got up

He stopped you with his hand

"No. Sit down. I will handle it. You've already done a lot of work for me every day."

"Alright. As you wish” you said and sat down at the table again.

He placed the soup in front of you. He then brought candlesticks and candles to the table. He lit the black candle on the candlestick and turned off the light

It had been a half-romantic setting.

When you tasted the soup, you realized that it was even better than your grandmother's.

“Delicious! Kenma, you did great, I love it!”

He smiled softly at you as he said, "Enjoy your meal."

"You've been in trouble. I hope you didn't have any trouble thinking about food"

"No. I don't usually live, but sometimes I think about what to cook"

"I understand"

You chatted and ate your food. Kenma asked you after serving the sauteed meat and rice

“Shall we drink wine too? If you want?"

“Oh well…it's okay” you said a little timidly

Kenma took the bottle of red wine from the cabinet. She opened the bottle with the corkscrew and then poured it into two glasses.

Before he started to eat, he raised his glass and waited for you to clinch your glass against his.

"Cheers?"

"Cheers"

You drank after clinking a glass. In order to get to know each other better, you continued your conversation and ate dinner.

You didn't want to get drunk that night. Because you were going to walk home. But Kenma insisted you have another glass after dinner.

“Come on, just one more glass. If it affects too much, I'll make you a coffee"

“No thanks really. More than 1 glass touches me”

“It is already late. Can you find a bus to return at this hour?"

You took out your phone and checked the time. Kenma's conversation was so sweet that you couldn't tell how time passed. It was showing 23:00.

"Oh my God! When it was 23:00. The last bus was half an hour ago. It can't be off!”

“Okay, don't worry. I'll drop you off in the car"

You looked at him with puzzled eyes

"So what? Do you have a car?"

"There is. But I don't park in front of the building. It's in the parking lot. I can leave you if you want"

“But you are drunk. What will you do if the police stop it?"

“I'll get myself a coffee. Then I'll drop you home. Is it possible?"

"It's possible"

“For accompanying me tonight…”

Just then, Kenma's phone rang incongruously.

“I beg your pardon. I'll be right back"

He came out of the kitchen and picked up the phone. You could hear their conversation as he spoke loudly.

“What's wrong with you that I drink alcohol! Do you want money again? Didn't I just send you money last week? How quickly did you eat all the money?"

Kenma's voice sounded angry. Whoever called was clearly someone who pissed him off.

"So what? Do you expect me to believe? Come and tell my cone! I've heard the same story from you a lot. Look at me! If you call again, I'll make you regret it, you know? Don't bother again for money or anything else! That's it!”

You came out of the kitchen

“Kenma?”

Kenma tried to hide her trembling, but you noticed. But you were trying not to let him notice

"Ha? Y/N. sorry. Wait, let me have a coffee. Then I'll take you home"

"Alright"

After Kenma drank coffee and sobered up, you left the house together. You landed in the parking lot. There was a model sports car last year. It was a car that could handle it, even if it wasn't very big and luxurious.

Kenma started the car and you drove out of the parking lot

“Describe to me your home”

"Ok"

He turned on the radio. By chance, the radio channel you listen to often came across. They always played slow songs at this hour and you would like it.

Kenma wanted to change the channel, but you blocked it.

“Kenma, can you not change the channel? I love this channel very much. I should at least listen until I get home"

"Okay," he said reluctantly.

You described your house to him. Within minutes you were in front of the house

“Thank you very much, Kenma. For everything. Food was great”

"What does it mean. It was my pleasure to host you. I will wait again”

You said "I'll come again tomorrow anyway" and laughed

"But I won't be able to see you"

Kenma's saying that sparked a spark in him. You could hear the heartbeat. You looked at each other for a while. Your cheeks were flushed.

You shook yourself

“Well… whatever. I have to go. Thanks again. for leaving"

"It does not matter. Good night"

You got out of the car and waved to Kenma before heading home. And he waved at you through the half-open window of the car. You looked after him after you drove away

You couldn't understand what was happening to yourself. You had a good night today, but what was it like to be suddenly attracted to Kenma?

You went home, ignoring all the questions in your head. You took a hot shower, put on your clean pajamas and went to sleep as soon as you got under the covers.

From the next day, you continued your routine of cleaning Kenma's house, which was no different from the Wednesday market, and getting paid.

Kenma would thank you after every cleaning. But in the last few days, he started to send sporadic messages. You thought all was not well with Kenma. Especially after the phone conversation you overheard at dinner that night.

When you went back to Kenma's house that weekend, you were in for an unexpected surprise. Kenma looked pale when she opened the door. He was looking at you with tired eyes. He was obviously sick

“Kenma? What is this? What you got?"

"Ah! I forgot to tell you. I'm canceling your today's shift. I am so sick. Take a vacation today too”

You put your hand on her forehead and check if she has a fever

"You have fever. Stop! I'll make you a soup."

“No please y/n. Go home. I don't want to infect you either."

“At least let me do something for you. I'll go later"

“I say no y/n, will you go to house?”

Just then, Kenma's phone rang. The phone ringing was coming from the room and you had to go to his room to pick it up

You took the opportunity to enter the kitchen and started making the soup you thought he would love.

The soup took half an hour to prepare, and Kenma hadn't left his room for half an hour. What was he talking about all this time? Was this something important enough to talk on the phone for half an hour?

You put a bowl of soup, a spoon, a napkin and a glass of water on the tray. You walked towards his room. You came to the doorstep when you were startled by Kenma's shout

“DAMN YOU MOTHERFUCKER! WHY DO YOU STILL WANT MONEY FROM ME! THE MONEY I EARNED BY MY FINISH, YOU SPEND MONEY ON A GAMBLING, THEN SHAMELESSLY ASKING FOR MONEY FOR YOUR GAMING DEBT! DROP DEAD! LET ME GET SAVE FROM YOU! I'M SHARMED FOR BEING MY BROTHER! I HOPE YOU WILL DIE IN DEBT! GO TO HELL!"

You had always known Kenma as a calm person and you were startled by her anger and aggression.

Apparently it was his brother who called last time and he wanted money for his gambling debt. It was evident in every way that he had fed Kenma.

That's when you came in and left the tray on the nightstand

“Kenma. I prepared something for you. Come on, eat that soup, you're warmed up for it too"

Kenma pressed her palm to her face and yelled at you with a crimson face.

"I DON'T WANT! DID I TOLD YOU TO GO HOME! WHO WANTED YOU TO MAKE ME SOUP?”

“Oh…But. I just…"

“Get out of my house! Go away or I'll cause an accident"

Never would she have thought that Kenma would be such a terrible person when she was angry. You were frozen where you were

“Kenma, don't be like that. I am trying to help you"

“GET OUT OF MY HOME!”

He grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you against the wall. You hit your head against the wall. You hit it so hard that when you touched the back of your head with your fingers, you saw that there was blood on your fingers. You had a headache. Maybe even stitches were needed.

Kenma was shocked to see his momentary aggression hurt you. He was staring at you inexplicably. Couldn't say a word

“I HATE YOU!”

“Y/N…”

Even though he tried to lift you, you stood up and escaped from his grasping hands.

"DON’T TOUCH ME!"

You ran to the hole. You left the house crying as you took your bag.

You were still in shock. Your heart was beating like. You were holding your bleeding head. You immediately hailed a taxi and went to the nearest hospital.

Your head was still bleeding. You barely lasted until you got to the hospital and fainted by the time you got there.

When you opened your eyes, you were sitting on a stretcher and a nurse was standing in front of you.

"Are you okay?" the nurse asked you

He then made two marks with his fingers.

"How many is this?"

“Two…” you said in a tired voice

“And this?”

This time it was showing the number five.

"Five"

“Can you say the weather is beautiful today?”

You repeated the sentence verbatim

"What is your name?"

“Y/N L/N”

"I'm not going to push you too hard, but do you remember how you got here?"

You remembered everything and told the nurse one by one. Thus, it was determined that you did not experience any memory or neurological disorders.

Before the nurse left the room, she gave some unpleasant information.

“Oh by the way Y/N. There is someone who wants to see you. While you were unconscious, your phone rang. We told the caller you were here"

"Who?"

“Kenma Kozume. She said you have a boyfriend"

How dare Kenma say such a thing? Especially after the damage it did to you

"What?"

“With your permission, I will take you to the room for him to see”

You sighed in distress and reluctantly agreed.

"Alright"

"Get well soon"

As soon as the nurse left the room, Kenma entered the room. She walked over and looked at you. You averted your eyes from him

"Why did you come?" you asked both sadly and reproachfully

“Y/N…are you okay?”

"How do you expect me to be after what he did"

“I was very worried about you. I know, it was my fault. Sorry. I'm really sorry. I can't tell you how sorry I am after seeing the damage I've done to you with my own eyes."

You got off the stretcher and reached for your bag. But Kenma stopped you. He seemed insistent on making amends.

"Please listen. You are so right to be angry with me. After what I did, I know I never deserved you. But please listen to me. Then if you want, you won't even see my face again."

Even if you didn't want to, you decided to listen to him.

"Look. I've been dealing with my stepbrother's gambling debt for the past month. My father was also a gambler. After my mother died, he got married a second time and my brother was born. I could never love him. Because I felt that in the future I would be like my father. I was very young then and could not comprehend things. My father committed suicide because he was up to his neck in gambling debt. My stepmother also sent me to the dormitory and left with my brother. I was seeing my brother from time to time. After all, our fathers were the same. Even though I hated my father, I wanted to protect the only relic left from him. But it didn't. I became a youtuber and started working. I was sending half of the money I earned to my brother. He started asking me for money a month ago. He said it was for school fees. I believed like a fool and sent money. He started asking for it every day and I got suspicious too. One day three men came to my door. It turns out that the dishonorable man who will be my brother has laid his gambling debt on me. He showed me the flat I live in as a payment for his debt. I was either going to pay this debt or they were going to kill me. That day, I hated him as much as my sin, without even saying my brother. The debt he owed me was not like that. I had to sell the house. It wasn't that easy either, she. I currently live as a tenant in the house I sold. Now he's exploiting me again to pay off his gambling debt. I have nothing left in my hand. First my father and now my brother have ruined my life together.”

Your anger at Kenma had eased a little, but when she remembered the bandage and stitch on her head, her anger at him flared up again.

“I'm really sorry for what you went through, but what made you do this to me? Why did you project your hatred for your brother on me?

“You didn't deserve this y/n. Once again, I sincerely apologize to you.”

He took your hands in his.

"Look at my face"

When he disobeyed his word, he lifted your chin with one hand and forced you to look at him.

"Look at me! Y/N. You've been my life since you started working for me. I do not want to lose you. Please don't leave me. I love you"

Kenma's startling confession softened your heart and you were just as excited as the first time you saw him.

“Say something y/n. I can understand if you don't want to be with me, but please don't be like that. I want you to be my girlfriend, no longer my employee, and live with me”

He kissed the stitched part of her head. You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his stomach.

“I love you too Kenma”

He was surprised when you suddenly hugged him, but then his one hand wrapped around your shoulder and the other caressed your head without hurting the stitched wound.

“Thank you y/n. For forgiving me. I will never hurt you again from now on. I wish I had broken my hand so I wouldn't have pushed you. If you hit me too, I won't make a sound."

“I wouldn't do this to you, Kenma. I just need a little hug right now. Can we stay like this for a while?"

He kissed your forehead, put his cheek on your head

"As you wish"

[ask-st-ccchoir]

Mischa on a scale of 1 to 10 how light weight are the people in the choir. 1 being even a tiny sip of wine makes them drunk to 10 being 1 bottle of wine does nothing to them even when chugged.

💵aigh, uhh

Ocean-1 she took one small sip once and she passed out after 30 minutes.☠️

Constance-5 maybe. Saw her drink a glass of wine ! 🔥🔥

Noel-6, drank with him once, it took half a bottle to actually make him drunk.🗣️🗣️

ricky-no clue, he has not tried.🗣️

Jane-hmm, 4. I gave her a glass once. It was less than half but she still got drunk ‼️‼️

// idk if he's included but if he is then 10 !! //

[thequietabsolute]

That night she drank half a bottle of red wine, good red wine, and she was sad and quiet. I knew she was connecting me with the racetrack people and the boxing crowd, and it was true, I was with them, I was one of them. Katherine knew that there was something about me that was not wholesome in the sense of wholesome is as wholesome does. I was drawn to all the wrong things: I liked to drink, I was lazy, I didn't have a god, politics, ideas, ideals. I was settled into nothingness, a kind of non-being, and I accepted it. It didn't make for an interesting person. I didn't want to be interesting, it was too hard. What I really wanted was only a soft, hazy space to live in, and to be left alone. On the other hand, when I got drunk I screamed, went crazy, got all out of hand. One kind of behavior didn't fit the other. I didn't care.

— Charles Bukowski, from Women [1978]