#sweetener tour tag

[schemmentigfs]

Sweetening The Deal. (part 4.)

Summary: you learn more about the mysterious fiery redhead and things start to change..

Tags: @lisaannwaltersbra @italianaidiota @greencurlyhair @schmentisgf @dopenightmaretyphoon @pitstopsapphic

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Next Chapter.

Settling into the passenger seat of Melissa’s sleek car, you tried to calm the flutter in your chest. The entire morning felt surreal—first being invited to stay in her luxurious penthouse, then getting a full tour of her space, and now… a personal shopping trip with Melissa Schemmenti herself deciding everything for your upcoming change of pace on life. You cast a shy glance her way as she adjusted her orange sunglasses, already focused on the road with that steady, unruffled confidence that always seemed to surround her.

Seconds later, the engine hummed to life as she pulled out onto the streets of Center City Philadelphia. The redhead woman had one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the center console, close enough that you could almost—almost—reach out and take it.

But you didn’t. The fear was too strong.

The drive was smooth, and for a moment, the silence between you felt almost too comfortable. You stole another glance at her as she focused on the traffic, her olive eyes hidden behind those pairs of designer sunglasses. She looked so effortless, so polished. Every detail about her—her crisp, tailored blazer, the way her auburn hair caught the sunlight—seemed intimidatingly perfect. You fidgeted with your hands, unsure of how to break the silence.

You hadn’t expected to feel so nervous. After all, you were just on your way to the mall to pick up a few things. It wasn’t a big deal. But the truth was, ever since that dream—that pornographic dream—you hadn’t been able to look at her the same way. You wouldn’t. You’d never told her about it. It was too embarrassing, too raw. She didn’t need to know, not when things between you two had been just fine as it should be. Right?

The images were still too vivid in your mind. The way her grunts sounded in your ear, the soft pressure of her lips against your skin while her hands had gripped you, steady and strong, the feel of her clit sliding against yours. And then, somehow, that moment had shifted—becoming more intense, more dangerous. The vivid image of Melissa in her bedroom, her pale body stretched out in front of you, her ass glowing under the dim lighting of the room. You tried to suppress the memory, but it lingered like an unwanted guest, haunting you every time you tried to look at her.

The silence stretched on, and finally, you cleared your throat, gathering the nerve to ask her something, anything at all, that might distract you from the thoughts that haunted and terrorized you.

“So… what do you do for living?” you asked, your voice soft but hopeful. “When you were on your way to my apartment complex, you said something about meetings?”

Her fingers curled slightly around the wheel as she gave you a quick glance, just a flicker behind those sunglasses, before returning her attention to the road. “You’re looking at it,” she said, her voice clipped and cold, as if the answer should have been obvious. “When I’m not being some bratty kid’s sugar mama, I work in real estate. I manage a few properties. Very high-end stuff.”

“Oh, that’s—” you trailed off, unsure if you’d be bothering her by asking more and honestly, you felt a bit annoyed by the way she referred to you as a brat. Her responses were so curt, almost as if she was reluctant to share even the basics, and still here she was, driving you around, letting you stay in her penthouse, arranging this shopping trip. “Cool..”

“If you say so... I guess that’s one way to put it,” she sighed quietly.

You took another deep breath, hoping to calm your nerves, and tried again. “What about… hobbies? Do you have any of ‘em?”

Melissa snorted, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I got hobbies.” She paused, glancing your way briefly before continuing in a tone that seemed half-reluctant. “I like to smoke. Cigars, mostly. Relaxing as hell after dealing with some motherfuckers at business meetings. And, uh, I watch Real Housewives sometimes. It’s a guilty pleasure, alright?” She smirked, but you could tell there was no real embarrassment there. She wore her quirks with confidence, her own unique brand of unapologetic pride.

“We all have guilty pleasures, Schemmenti,” you pointed out, feeling more comfortable. “What else?”

“I go to church sometimes,” the redhead added, softening a bit, turning distant. “Not every week, but, y’know… enough.” Her words seemed to falter, like there was something there she wasn’t quite saying. She swallowed, adjusting her sunglasses as she spoke, her tone strangely vulnerable. “Goin’ there, it helps me… forgive. Or try to, anyway.” She let out a small, humorless laugh, as if forgiveness wasn’t exactly something she found easy to come by.

The shift in her tone made your chest tighten. You wanted to ask what Melissa Schemmenti needed to forgive—or whom—but something in the features stopped you. Instead, you just nodded, letting her know you were listening, taking in each layer of herself she offered, even if she didn’t realize it.

And then, just as quickly as it had started, she fell silent. Her words ceased, and the hum of the road filled the gap. It was as if the conversation had taken a sudden detour, one that left you both in the moment of reflection. You could see her green eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, not really looking at anything but maybe thinking about everything.

She shifted in her seat, straightening her posture a little, but there was something new in her body language—a subtle withdrawal, almost like she was pulling back from herself. It was an instinct you knew too well, the way people guarded themselves after they’d shared something too raw. Melissa was never one to open up lightly. But now she seemed to be processing something else, something she hadn’t said yet. You wanted to reach out, to break the silence, but you hesitated. Something in the stillness of the moment felt important.

You couldn’t help but notice the way her hands tightened around the wheel, the tension in her shoulders, and the soft furrow between her brows. Her reflection in the mirror showed someone more guarded than she’d been a moment ago, as if the vulnerability she’d offered just a moment ago had been too much to bear. It wasn’t just her words she’d closed off—it was her entire presence.

Melissa didn’t speak again, but you felt it—the shift. And you couldn’t help but wonder what had caused it, what hidden part of her she was wrestling with now.

You glanced out the window, trying to steady your thoughts as the car moved through the city streets. As you sat there, trying to distract yourself from the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind, another thought crept in—one you hadn’t dared to voice. You hadn't really thought about it until now, but the more you focused on the silence between you, the more you realized that you'd never seen much of the Schemmentis around.

Her penthouse was immaculate—every surface polished, every corner filled with the sharp edges of modern luxury—but there were hardly any family pictures, no casual snapshots of her childhood or moments with relatives. Sure, there were photos of friends, some from vacations or casual nights out, but when it came to her family, it was almost like a void. That lack of familial presence was... strange, especially considering how many photos of her with some of the Schemmentis were across the internet.

You found yourself wanting to ask, but hesitation gnawed at you. Was it inappropriate to ask about her family? Did it make her uncomfortable? You tried to imagine how she’d respond—whether she’d offer an easy, casual answer or if it would send her retreating into that unapproachable shell she sometimes slipped into. Maybe she didn't want to talk about them, and maybe you shouldn't pry.

But you couldn’t help it. Curiosity gnawed at you like an itch you couldn’t scratch. You wanted to know more about the redhead—the parts of her life she hadn’t yet shared, the side of her that wasn’t just the successful, confident woman you’d come to know.

The absence of family mementos seemed deliberate, almost as if she were keeping her history behind some invisible line you weren’t allowed to cross. You’d heard her mention her family here and there during one of your meetings to arrange your sugar mommy deal—her Italian heritage—but nothing in detail. And the one time she had let something slip, she’d quickly clammed up, her face shifting to that same, unreadable mask she wore now.

But why?

Did she have siblings? Were her parents close? Had she grown up in a family like the one she’d created for herself—one that seemed full of strength, but also a quiet kind of distance?

You turned your gaze out the window again, pretending to focus on the passing scenery, but your mind raced through all the questions you couldn’t ask. The truth was, there was something deeply personal about the idea of her family—or lack of it—that had piqued your interest more than you were comfortable admitting.

What kind of upbringing had made her the way she was? And why had she chosen to leave so little of that behind in her penthouse? Your thoughts spiraled, pulling you deeper into that place of uncertainty and wonder, your chest tightening as you realized just how much you wanted to know.

You felt guilty for even thinking about asking. It wasn't like you had any right to her history, and maybe it wasn’t fair to put her on the spot like that. So you kept quiet, watching her as she drove, her face set and unreadable.

Still, the curiosity lingered.

“Melissa,” you started again, your voice softer than you intended. “You mentioned Pearl earlier. I didn’t realize she’d been around that long.”

“Yeah, she’s been a part of the family for years. Practically helped raise us—me and my siblings. Eight siblings, yeah. Big Italian family—South Philly’s finest.”

You nodded, glancing down to your lap to avoid her gaze. “Eight siblings… that’s a lot. Must’ve been a full house.”

Melissa let out a soft scoff. “You could say that. It was chaos, pure and simple. We weren’t exactly living in luxury back then. Half of us had to share a room.”

The idea surprised you, though you supposed it shouldn’t have. The woman beside you was successful now, living in a penthouse and offering you a fresh start, but she hadn’t always been here. You couldn’t imagine her any other way, though—fierce, determined, always in control. It was… comforting. Attractive, even.

You bit your lip, realizing you were staring, and quickly turned your gaze back to the road ahead. “I guess it taught you to be tough?”

She chuckled, though there wasn’t much warmth in it. “You don’t survive in a house like that without learning a thing or two.” She paused, then cast you a quick look, her expression softening just a fraction. “I don’t talk about my family much, you know. Or my fuckin’ past.”

Her honesty caught you off guard, and you felt a strange sense of privilege knowing she was sharing even this much with you. “Thank you for sharing,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Melissa waved it off as if it were nothing, but the way she looked at you made your heart skip. “Enough about me,” she scoffed, her tone firm but not unkind. “Today’s about you. We’re going to get you set up properly—starting with a wardrobe overhaul.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, though your cheeks felt warm. “I don’t think I need that much—”

Green eyes shot you a look, one brow raised. “I’m not taking no for an answer, brat. You’re with me now, so we’re doing this my way.” She glanced at you again, her lips quirking into a smirk. “Besides, I like spoiling you, you little shit.”

Ignoring the last words, your heart fluttered at the way she said it, so casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And then, before you could think too much about it, she leaned over at a red light and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

You froze, heat flooding your face as her lips lingered for just a second longer than necessary. When she pulled back, her gaze was steady, almost challenging, as if daring you to react. But words seemed to stick in your throat, and all you could do was stare at her, wide-eyed and flustered.

“Cat got your tongue?” Melissa teased pressing a hand on your thighs, the corners of her mouth twitching in amusement.

“N-No, I just… wasn’t expecting that,” you stammered, cursing yourself for sounding so awkward.

“Get used to it, honey. Mama’s got a habit of getting what she wants.”

The rest of the drive passed in a haze, each kiss she placed on your cheek or forehead leaving you breathless and aching to feel her plump lips on yours. You wondered if she could tell, if she noticed the way your hands fidgeted in your lap or the way your gaze kept flickering to her lips when you thought she wasn’t looking. But if she did, she didn’t say a word.

When you finally arrived at the mall, Melissa led you inside with a hand on the small of your back, her presence steady and grounding. You were still a little dazed, still reeling from every soft touch and lingering look she’d given you in the car.

The mall was bustling, but with Melissa by your side, you felt a strange sense of calm. Or maybe it was just that her confidence had a way of rubbing off on you, making you feel like you belonged, like you deserved to be here with her. She guided you through the maze of stores, her hand warm and reassuring on your back, and you tried not to think about how natural it felt, how right.

As you walked, she glanced at you, a thoughtful look in her green eyes. “We’re going to find something that suits you. Something… fitting.” She stopped in front of a high-end boutique, her tongue clicking as she turned to you. “Because from now on, you’re mine. And I want you to look like it.”

Your mouth went dry, and you felt your heart skip a beat at her words. Hers. The idea made your stomach flutter in a way you couldn’t quite describe.

“Y-Yours?” you stammered.

Melissa smirked, looking at you with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. “That’s right. My property, my rules.” There was an unmistakable edge of possessiveness in her voice, one that left you feeling both nervous and exhilarated.

You swallowed, your cheeks burning as you nodded, unable to find the words to respond. But She didn’t seem to mind. She simply took your hand and led you inside, guiding you through racks of designer clothes with an expert eye.

“What about this?” the redhead prompted, holding up a sleek black dress, her gaze assessing as she looked you over.

You fidgeted, feeling self-conscious under her scrutiny. “It’s… nice.”

Melissa raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your lack of enthusiasm. “Nice isn’t good enough. You’re going to try it on. And a few other things, too.”

Before you could protest, she had already gathered a small pile of clothes and was steering you toward the fitting rooms. Her hand was warm on your back, her presence reassuring even as she pushed you a little out of your comfort zone.

Inside the fitting room, you tried on each piece she’d picked out, feeling more and more like a different person with each outfit. The clothes were sleek, sophisticated, a far cry from the simple, practical pieces you usually wore. But when you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but feel… good. Confident, even.

Melissa seemed to sense it, too. Each time you stepped out to show her an outfit, she looked you up and down with a smile that was equal parts approval and pride. “Now this,” she said, adjusting the collar of a suit you were wearing, her fingers brushing against your collarbone. “This is what I’m talking about.”

Her hand lingered for a moment, her touch sending a thrill through you that left you breathless. And then, without warning, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to your nose, soft and warm against your skin. The act was quick but enough to make you widen your eyes.

“Perfect,” she murmured. “You look perfect.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you ducked your head, trying to hide the smile that tugged at your lips. But the Schemmenti woman wasn’t having it. She tipped your chin up with a gentle finger, her gaze intense as she looked at you.

“Don’t hide,” she spoke softly. “I want to see that smile.”

You couldn’t help it; you smiled, a soft, shy smile that felt a little too vulnerable, a little too real. But Melissa just smiled back, her gaze warm and unwavering.

“Good girl,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, let’s go pick out some accessories. Can’t have you looking half-done, can we?”

“No, ma'am,”

You followed her out of the fitting room, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. Each touch, each lingering look left you feeling more and more like you were on the edge of something—something you couldn’t quite name, but something you wanted more than anything. And as you walked by her side, her hand resting on your lower back, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you were already hers in more ways than you could admit.

As you followed Melissa through the boutique, your mind was still buzzing with the strange excitement and nervousness from her words. You had tried on a few outfits by now, each one more elegant and polished than the last. But something about the idea of being hers lingered in the back of your mind, making your pulse race and your hands tremble ever so slightly.

“Let’s check out the lingerie section,” the green eyed woman suggest, smooth and confident as she steered you toward a secluded corner of the store. The racks here were lined with delicate lace, silk, and satin, all in a rainbow of colors. But it was the deep purple set that caught your eye first.

It was beautiful—luxurious and eye-catching, a perfect shade of rich purple with intricate lace detailing, the kind of lingerie that made you feel like you were stepping into a world of indulgence. You reached out for it, running your fingers over the smooth fabric. The soft, luxurious material felt like a secret, something that belonged to you alone.

The older woman noticed your interest right away. Her gaze flickered to the set, then to you, and the corner of her mouth curled into a knowing smirk.

“Like what you see?”

You felt your heart race as you nodded, a small, awkward laugh escaping your lips. “It’s... it’s gorgeous.”

“Good,” she murmured, taking the set from your hands with ease. “I think you’d look perfect in it. And, if I’m being honest, I’m not just buying you clothes... I’m making sure you're well taken care of in every way.”

You swallowed, the intensity in her voice making your stomach flip. You tried to compose yourself, but it wasn’t easy. The idea of her buying you something so intimate felt overwhelming in the best possible way.

Without waiting for you to respond, Melissa walked to the register, the purple lingerie in her hands like it was already meant for you. She turned over her shoulder as she moved, her expression softening. “Don’t worry,” she added, “you’ll wear it for me soon enough.”

“What?”

You couldn’t help but shiver at her words, a heat flooding your body at the thought of her seeing you in it, touching you in it.

At the register, Melissa didn’t hesitate. She handed over the lingerie set along with a few other items, her face unreadable but her eyes glinting with something you couldn’t quite place.

When she came back to you, the shopping bag in hand, she gave you a little wink. “You’re gonna love it. And so will I.”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak. Your mind was still reeling from the intensity of the moment, from the way she made you feel like you were hers in ways you hadn’t even fully understood. The thought of wearing it for her, of being the person she chose to spoil and take care of, sent a jolt through you, and you weren’t sure if it was nervousness, excitement, or something else entirely.

But as Melissa led you back toward the exit of the boutique, her hand once again gently resting on your lower back, you couldn’t help but feel grateful, in awe of her confidence, her ability to make you feel seen and wanted in ways you’d never experienced before.

As you both made your way to the door, the weight of the shopping bags in your hands seemed to make the moment feel heavier, more real. Your nerves, still buzzing, didn't help the heat in your cheeks from all the attention Melissa had been showering on you. You could feel the weight of the purple lingerie in your bag like a secret, a promise, and it made your heart thud in your chest.

But then, as you approached the car, you hesitated. Your fingers clenched around the strap of the bag, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell if you were excited or terrified. You glanced up at her, who was busy unlocking the car, her back to you.

The way she’d spoken earlier, the way she took control, was almost too much to process. And then, as if sensing the shift in your mood, she turned to face you, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in your lost expression.

Her face softened as she noticed the hesitation in your steps, but her voice dropped into something more serious. “What’s wrong? You’ve been quiet since we left the store, sweetheart.”

“I-”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. You felt as though something was building inside you, a storm of emotions that you couldn’t quite name. The purple lingerie, her touch, the overwhelming sense of being wanted in ways you didn’t know you could be—it was all too much to process.

But before you could speak, Melissa raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a teasing but commanding smirk. Suddenly, she stopped walking. Her hand shot out, gripping your wrist with an unexpected firmness, pulling you gently but decisively toward her.

“Tell me. What are you doing?”

Instead of answering, you stood there, caught between the pull of her touch and the weight of her gaze, knowing that this moment was more than you could handle and yet somehow not wanting it to end.

And just like that, you were left hanging—unsure of what would happen next.

[yakuzacanons]

Yakuza Character Drink Headcanons

A brief break from the romance posts since I realize I did two in a row. Also thank you for all of the love you’ve shown my posts. Especially love when y’all write in the tags. Reminder that you can send any submissions or requests of any kind my way. Until then, enjoy this shorter post and I’ll see y’all tomorrow!

Kazuma Kiryu

Mostly drinks just water. Dislikes overly sweet drinks. Will totally go on whiskey distillery tours if given the choice. Favorite alcohol is whiskey. Has never been blackout drunk. When drunk, he just gets tired.

Majima Goro

Likes mildly sweetened drinks as well as sour drinks, like lemonade. Boba weirds him out (”Drinks are for sippin’ Not chewin’ on stuff!”) and he’s not a fan of coffee. Likes all alcohol but loves sharing a beer with Saejima most. A loud menace and easily provoked when drunk.

Saejima Taiga

Black coffee at the start of the day. Likes milkshakes. Fascinated by Ramune (”Why’s this drink got a lil’ ball inside?”) but tends to break them when opening them due to his strength. Favorite alcohol is beer, hands down. Gets hiccups when he drinks but rarely gets more than tipsy.

Akiyama Shun

Drinks mostly fruit juice of any kind. Almost never drinks water, he’s practically a camel. He’s a big fan of champagne but knows it’s not practical so usually gets whiskey or shochu. He’s a flirty drunk and giggles a lot.

Tanimura Masayoshi

Chugs soda like there’s no tomorrow when he’s working. Prefers soda over coffee. During sit down meals, he drinks tea, mostly chrysanthemum tea. Fond of boba drinks. Likes to drink shochu but is a total lightweight.

Ryuji Goda

Really into tea. Especially traditional tea ceremonies. Has his own personal tea set and takes it quite seriously. Honestly doesn’t drink much else. For alcohol, he dabbles in whiskey or champagne but knows his limits very well and will never get publicly drunk.

Mine Yoshitaka

Drinks protein shakes when he works out. Otherwise, it’s mostly water or herbal tea. Is surprisingly into cocktails and finds bartending to be rather interesting. Has a personal minibar at home. Never has more than one drink in public so he never gets drunk outside of his home.

Daigo Dojima

Like Ryuji except with coffee. Very interested in brewing his own coffee and will always take time to brew himself a cup in the morning. Hates instant coffee. Likes rum and whiskey. Drinking gives him headaches so he doesn’t do it often.

Nishikiyama Akira

Smoothies and fruit juice all the way. He does genuinely like the taste but also does it because it’s popular with the ladies. Tries to get into whiskey but really prefers vodka. Not great at knowing his limits with alcohol.

Tachibana Tetsu

It’s coffee in the morning and water at night. Detests soda. The carbonation feels uncomfortable to him. Seldom drinks, mostly because he’s a total lightweight and most alcohol makes him totally nauseous. Likes gin and tonic the most.

Haruka Sawamura

Boba tea drinker. Likes to get all kinds of toppings put into her drink. Blends her own juice at home using fruits from the market. Particularly fond of guava or strawberry juice. Has never tasted alcohol but the smell reminds her of cleaning products.

[ladylilithprime]

What Is More Infinite Than The Universe

Series: Fluffy Faerie Tales

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Sastimmy/Jamstiel (Jimmy Novak/Sam Winchester/Castiel), Balthazar/Meg

Rating: General to Teen and Up

Tags/Warnings: Half-Fae Sam Winchester, Jimmy and Castiel Are Twins, References to Dean Winchester's Canon Levels of Stubbornness, Archangel Gabriel Casually Hanging Out In A Faerie Cafe, Dragon Balthazar, Dragon Meg

Summary: Some businesses shut down when the weather turns bad. Others tend to get an uptick in activity. Some good... some not.

For: @fluffyfebruary challenge!

Prompt: Day 9: Storm

Read on AO3

WHEN THE WEATHER forecast for the week had handed down the verdict that Seven Mile Island, New Jersey, was going to be inundated with rain for five out of seven days, several of the tourist spots opted to close up shop for the week. Walking tours, wetlands exploration, and the ever popular beachcombing activities of a coastal location just weren't as appealing (or safe) when having to battle the elements to get anywhere. Conversely, places like The Kitchen Witch, The Black Cats' Kettle, and Lighthouse CommodiTeas saw a distinct uptick in their usual customer traffic, including the lifeguards and tour guides who would otherwise be staying home or stuck in their main offices doing paperwork. Nice, hot meals and rich soups from the two witch-owned restaurants really hit the spot on a cold, wet day, and the warm drinks and fresh-baked cookies and pastries from the faerie-owned cafe were a welcome treat anytime, but especially during less than pleasant weather.

"It's really coming down out there!" Balt announced to the cafe at large as he opened the door, sending a burst of cold air into the cozy interior. He quickly deployed one dark blue and black wing to block further incursions of wind as he held the door open for Meg, tucking it back out of sight into the pocket dimension where dragons kept the majority of their mass while in human shape as he let the door swing shut behind them.

"Pulling extra shifts this week?" Sam guessed, eyeing them both even as he reached for the phoenix ash. Jimmy followed his lead and started pulling out the sweetened condensed milk, chocolate sauce, and cinnamon chili powder. It was rare to see Balt and Meg coming in together as they usually kept an alternating shift schedule on purpose. Unsurprisingly, the dragons both nodded.

"Wouldn't you both have less to do when it's raining like this?" one of the other customers asked, frowning in puzzlement. Jimmy recalled that she was one of the newer tour guides for the wetlands and had lamented that the weather had shut down the job she had been looking forward to starting.

"Weather like this tends to mean more accidents, which means having as many doctors and nurses on call in the ER as can be spared," Meg sighed. "Search and rescue, too, given the risk of flooding, and that's assuming it doesn't kick up into a hurricane."

"The relevant local powers are all keeping an eye on things," Sam assured her, getting a grateful nod in return.

"And the hazards of fires don't drop just because it's wet out," Balt chimed in with a grimace. "No easier to put them out once started, either. Imma spend as much time using my wings as an umbrella for my mates as I am diving in to haul folks outta trouble."

"But why?" the customer asked, confused. "Wouldn't most people stay home if they didn't have to go out?"

"Nah, plenty'a people out and about, even on days like this," Gabriel piped up from where he'd been enjoying his usual Trickster's Special and a S'mores Brownie. He waved a hand around the cafe. "Case in point, we're all here, and when we leave we'll have to be out there. Now, we're all gonna be blessed with whatever good luck boost our bodacious baristas have included in our drinks, but that only covers us and anyone else who comes in for a pre- or post-work pick-me-up. It doesn't cover the folks who decided they'd rather warm up with a shot or six at the bar, or tried to start a fire in their electric fireplace."

"'Two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I am not yet completely sure about the universe.' Albert Einstein," Sam quoted, passing Jimmy the cups for toppings.

"Isn't it kind of racist for you to say that?" another customer asked, frowning.

"The boss is half human," Charlie pointed out with a shrug. "If anyone should be allowed to mock both humans and faeries with impunity, it's him. And besides, Einstein was human and he saw a lot less of human stupidity than the boss has."

"And if he'd ever met my older brother he probably wouldn't have limited it to human stupidity," Sam grumbled.

"Dean-bean still being very himself about the alicorn incident?" Gabriel guessed, tsking when Sam and Jimmy both nodded. "You ever decide to cash in that favor I owe you, Samarooni, just let me know..."

"I think sending you after him would be a bit overkill," Sam said dryly. "But we appreciate the offer."

"Don't worry, I sicc'ed Baby on him," Charlie said, winking at Gabriel's pout. "We'll just see how many miles of nothing but dubstep he can tolerate before he caves and actually apologizes. Balt, Meg, you two want anything else besides your usuals?"

"Can we each get a couple dozen assorted baked goods?" Meg asked, after exchanging a glance with Balt. "Not much keeps morale up in the ER like free pastries, and Clarence makes some of the best we've ever had."

Jimmy glanced at Sam. Sam shrugged and glanced back towards the kitchen where Cas was listening. Jimmy caught sight of his brother surveying the ovens and the trays standing by, then nodded and held up ten fingers. "If you can spare ten minutes, we'll get you squared away with an assortment fresh out of the oven."

"I'll make Balt drop me off first," Meg grinned. "He can afford to be a little late."

[copperleaf1]

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While many Tirunelveli hotels might just offer a place to sleep, Copper Leaf Hotels provides a welcoming atmosphere and a commitment to making your stay enjoyable. Our friendly and attentive staff is dedicated to exceeding your expectations. We’re happy to provide recommendations for local attractions, assist with booking tours, or answer any questions you may have about the city.

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Don’t settle for just any hotel in Tirunelveli. Choose Copper Leaf Hotels for a comfortable and convenient stay in the heart of the city, exceptional service, and all at an unbeatable price. Browse our website or contact us today to book your stay at Copper Leaf Hotels — undoubtedly one of the best hotels in Tirunelveli for budget-conscious travelers seeking a memorable experience!

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For more details visit our website: www.copperleafhotels.com

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[honeymoonavenue]

ariana performing REM

[honeymoon-babe]

sweetener tour 6.18.2019 | manhattan, nyc 

[universal-gay]

i just got done seeing ariana grande in columbus and wow that was unreal 😭😫

[lovesanmotion]

Thank U - Jung Wooyoung

summary: after having a bad day and a terrible case of homesickness, wooyoung makes your comfort foods

cw: food

tags: @bonbonhwa

Lately, everything seems to confuse you and everything you do just doesn't seem right at all. Even though your eyes and mind tells you that everything is just the way how it is like the usual, your conscience would whisper and say it's not. You felt conflicted, not knowing which to listen to. But one thing is for sure, even though no matter how many times you say you're okay, you aren't.

Since the pandemic rolled into every country and the government order lockdowns and quarantines here and there, you weren't bothered at first. You slightly thanked the heavens because first of all, finally you were having an amount of time for yourself and rest. Being in the office and working at a corporate company that has you working for them for nine consistent hours mentally and physically drains you. Second, you finally have time for your two year boyfriend, Jung Wooyoung. You felt sad and sorry how you wouldn't be able to squeeze him into your packed schedule. But Wooyoung understood perfectly that you are a busy working woman and he deeply appreciates you and your hardwork. And Wooyoung would communicate with you through the little things.

But as the days, weeks and months grew longer and the future seemed uncertain, you were growing weary and loss. Now, you are stuck at home, working on your laptop with a heavy heart as another feeling sprouted into your chest: homesickness.

You missed the colorful and joyful festivals that held every summer, the taste of the fruity cold desserts and more importantly, the family whom you've left behind in your home country. Every night, you would video call with your family and siblings, ask them how they are and how they are coping with what's happening and wishing them well. At the end of the day, hearing how they are well and all would bring you comfort.

Until there was one day you couldn't bear it anymore. The longing feeling of feeling the sun's blazing rays under your skin, the humid air passing through you and the sight of the tall city buildings and delectable cold desserts made you miss your home country even more. You never voiced out your feelings of homesickness, but Wooyoung surely did see it through you.

The following day, Wooyoung told you that he'd be going to the supermarket to get ingredients. You nodded our head and saw him off by the door. But in all honesty, Wooyoung wasn't really going to the supermarket, he took a little de tour and went into a place called Daehangno in Hyehwa-dong where he bought a lot of ingredients, a little more even.

When he thinks he has everything he needs, he goes back home, greets you with a kiss on top of your head before changing his clothes and getting his work done in the kitchen immediately. On the kitchen counter top, Wooyoung displayed all the ingredients he bought from the market, starting to make the main dish first. Cutting the pork, chillies, onions and more before blanching them into the hot oil and then adding mayonnaise. Before finishing, Wooyoung didn't forgot to cook two sunny side ups, one for you and one for him.

And on the table, he made your favorite dish, sisig.

For the dessert, Wooyoung took out two tall glasses and poured shaved ice and various fruits, jellies and nuts into the glass, topping it off with sweetened milk before placing it onto the table.

And on the table, he made your favorite dessert, halo halo.

"Y/N, come and eat now" Wooyoung softly spoke after he knocked on the door. You immediately obliged and wanted nothing more than to put your laptop away and join your boyfriend in the dining table. And much to your surprise, he made you your favorites on the table.

You didn't know how Wooyoung made these, but they looked pleasing in the eyes and surely the taste as well. Tears brimmed your eyes as flashes of your childhood memories flooded into your brain. Instead of taking a seat in the chair that he pulled out for you, you flung your arms around him and hugged him tightly.

[tinygalaxykid]

Bad Kids!ACOC AU

Ok so if you haven't seen my recent ACOC!Riz sketch, go check it out. My hope is that I’ll be able to draw all of the bad kids before the finale but we’ll see. This is long bc it’s my general setup for this AU but I’ll be making small posts about backstories, magic items, etc. Feel free to jump on this HC, just tag me.

This definitely takes place post-acoc but maybe in an alt timeline just because I don’t know what the political and religious situation of the post-campaign will be.

Riz is made out of sweet & sour hard candy. He has sugar freckles and is sour-apple flavored. He’s still a rouge, having learned his tricks being a poor villager in a crime-filled village of Southern Candia. His mom, Skolanda is jolly-rancher like candy and Pok was actually a fructerian apple person. After being turned away from the Candian military for his small stature he decides to clean up his crime-ridden village, fancying himself a detective and a vigilante. His non-offical tagline is “Sour, sweet, then gone.”

Fabian Aramais Seacaster is made of tiramisu as his father Bill Seacaster, an infamous, curdled pirate of the Dairy Sea, met and married Hillariel from a small peninsula of Fructera where everyone is made of creamed coffee. They settled down in Port Syrup and live very comfortably. 

Kristen is actually Fructerian and living in a religious city just past the border of Candia. She’s made of honey roasted apple pie (apple-bees?) and is in Candia as a bulbian missionary hoping to spread the faith to these non-believers. It’s her first time out of her home and she is READY to spread the gospel!

Adiane is made of icing and whipped cream. She’s from a highborn family close to Ceresia and her parents happen to be close to one Lord and Lady Cruller. While still being shitty, awful, usurping people, her family still practices magic from a private library of historical Candian tomes they refuse to share with the public. 

Gorgug, adopted by two candy heart parents in Dulcington, is a vegetainan pumpkin boy! Somedays he’s not sure what sets him apart more, him being over 6 ft tall or the fact that he’s the first plant-based person most of the townfolk have ever seen. He works as a stable-boy (for meeps!) in Castle Candy.

Fig (not actually a fig, I know), is red-hot tamale candy! After realizing that her yogurt father, Gilear, may not be her real dad, she is trying to break away from her Mother, Sandralynn, who works under the Queen’s Guard, Sir Amanda Maylard, so that she can go find her real family in the great stone candy mountains.

They all meet during the official post-war coronation of Queen Saccharina Frostwhip of House Rocks. Riz goes there searching for the legendary Sir Amanda Maylard whose expertise in tracking have proven her invaluable to Candia. Seeking to become her apprentice, he sneaks his way into the coronation to find a moment to talk with her.

Fabian is there with both his parents (officially invited as his father had a few friendly encounters with one Amethar Rocks during the Ravening War) and sits with their family friend, Manta-Ray Jack.

Kristen in there with a few other bulb officials. They’re not technically invited but they were hoping that their presence could steer some of the Candian heathens in the right direction.

Seeing as no one can prove the the Abernants involvement with Lord Cruller’s coup (even if they were exceptionally compliant with his reign), the whole family attends with young Adiane in tow who is feeling EXTREMELY uncomfortable attending the festivals and parties being thrown in the queen’s honor.

Gorgug and his parents take place in the festivities as does the rest of Dulcington and somehow gets lost and sort of makes his way into the castle?

Lastly, Fig is there because her boring-ass mom has to attend the coronation and so she going to drag fig over there in a stupid dress and a stupid hairdo even though Fig told her a thousand times that she didn’t want to go. Honestly, Fig is just hoping she can steal a meep from the stables and make her way towards the candy mountains.

They all meet after the coronation when the Seacasters and the Abernants are receiving tours of Castle Candy. Fabian peer pressures Adiane into sneaking away so that they can explore the Castle on their own (Adine only agreed because Aelwyn was being particularly unbearable and Fabian only asked so her as recon for flirting with her sister). It’s just when they stumble upon the training grounds when they find one Sir Amanda Maylard escorting a (small?) trespasser out of the grounds. Riz is trying to explain his value as a squire and apprentice but to no avail. As luck would have it, Sir Amanda doesn’t finish escorting him out of the grounds because all havoc breaks loose when some candian villager breaks into the stables to steal a meep and some vegetainian boy has to wrestle her off of it???

Fig, Adaine, Fabian, Gorgug, and Riz meet when they are all adequately being punished for their respective crimes. While Sir Amanda holds them, waiting for their parents to give them even more berating, Kristen Applebees tries to make her introduction, hoping that her good influence can show them the light of the bulb.

Even MORE shenanigans ensue thanks to Fabian’s peer pressuring as they all escape Sir Amanda Maylard and manage to make it out of the castle with some fancy new magic relics retrieved from the Ice Cream temple by Queen Saccharina just months ago.

The all quickly become great friends after running into a man who claims himself to an arch-mage of the sweetening path and a lover to Joren Rocks, a man named Arthur Augefort. He tells them of untold fortunes that lie in the Great Stone Candy mountains and seeing as they all have vested interests in magic, escaping their shitty family, adventure, and Gorgug just kinda agreeing, they head north on the Sucrosi Road.

The go on adventures, blah, blah, blah. After discovering new magics  in north Candia, the bad kids sail across the dairy sea to a pirate island called Leviathan, somehow make into the Meatlands where they meet some friendly people named Jawbone and Tracker, then they head to Vegetainia where they fight off an extremist group of Bulbians callled the Harvestmen, and somewhere along the way kill Adiane’s dad.

[ventureswithbooks]

🌟QOTD: you are destined to pick between two gorgeous fae…one who is of the darkness and one who is of the light…who do you pick? . . Hello friends and happy Friday finally!! I am so so excited to bring you all this gorgeous book today!! When I first read the synopsis (swipe to read for yourself) I was hooked!! Fae, magic, and ancient prophecy all wrapped into a book sprinkled with romance…how can you go wrong?!? Until Nov 19th this book is only $0.99 on kindle!! And to sweeten the deal find a great giveaway below! . . 👑 GRAND PRIZE: -$10 Starbucks gift card -Signed map of Nevermore 👑TO ENTER: -Must be following me @ventureswithbooks @michele.barrow.belisle and @bookofmatchesmedia -Like, comment, save, and tag 1 bookish friend 👑EXTRA ENTRIES: -Share giveaway in story for 24hrs tagging @michele.barrow.belisle and @bookofmatchesmedia -Tag 3 friends in a comment (you can do this up to 10 times on each post) -Search #FireAndIceTour and enter the giveaway on all the tour hosts' posts every day for 10 days for more chances to win! 👑RULES: Giveaway will end on November 20, 2021 at midnight PST, open to US/INTL, not affiliated with IG, must be 16+ or have parental permission to enter, must be a public act to verify entries. . . #MicheleBarrowBelisle #FireAndIce #FireAndIceBook #FaerieSongSaga #BOMMtours #BOMMIndieAuthors #BookOfMatchesMedia #indieauthor #kindlesale #bookblog #unitedbookstagram #bookpics #instagramreads #fantasybooks #readersofinsta #vscoreads #bookster #yalovin #readreadread #ireadya #bookaddicted #totalbooknerd #idratherbereading #bookrecs #readeveryday #rainbowbookshelf https://www.instagram.com/p/CWLc5I7rw8R/?utm_medium=tumblr

[oftenderweapons]

Where, when and how - maknae line

Pairing: maknae line member x reader 

Wordcount: 1.0k words

Genre: smut, fluff, (Taehyung’s contains a fair bit of angst)

Rating: 18+

Hello lovelies! Since quarantine is separating many lovers all around the world I thought about how the boys would handle being away from their girlfriend. It’s obviously smutty. Every piece is about 1000 words each.

Trigger warning: swearing; smut, hinted and sometimes pretty descriptive, really it depends. LOADS OF SEX TOYS (it was supposed to be a sex-toy themed thingy because yay!self-love and yes, you can use them together with your significant other too), some mild bdsm here and there, praise kink (you know where it comes from), swearing and alcohol (nothing extreme, just tipsy), masturbation and that should be pretty much everything. Also, nipple piercing? Tae is frustrated, Jimin is the bratties brat to ever brat (takes one to know one LOL) and Koo is a switch (and by switch I mean he’s shy but nasty, and I still don’t know what’s his trigger).

You can find the hyung line here

Pssst--- here is my masterlist---

Jimin

You loved listening to Jimin, especially when he came home in the evening and told you about his day. You loved chitchatting while preparing dinner, you loved having his head on your lap, his fingers intertwined with yours, your free hand caressing his scalp and handcombing his hair. You loved his tenderness, his voice growing sleepy as it got late. You loved climbing in bed and feeling his hand snake around your waist from behind you, naturally and innocently palming your breast as he fell asleep.

You were listening to his voice through the speakers of your phone, video calling each other as you made dinner and he had a brunch together with the boys in Paris. Last night it had been their last concert of the European Tour and soon they would be heading back to Seoul, even though their schedule included a couple weeks in the US before actually returning to their motherland. He wasn’t yet allowed to tell you their plans but supposedly they had to meet a coreographer and visit a couple studios.

It was extraordinarily hilarious to watch him talk as he filled his mouth with continental breakfast, sickeningly sweet apple juice and pain brioche and bacon endlessly flowing around him. Every now and then he interrupted himself to reply to the boys, who sometimes appeared behind him, sleepy, a bit groggy and absolutely exhausted. Suga was propped on his elbows against the countertop, his eyes closing again as he waited for coffee, Namjoon, with a disgusted expression hugged the sugar bowl to his chest and poured a worrying amount of sweetener in his oversized cup of coffee. JK, his shirt sweaty, was drinking a smoothie after his morning workout. Taehyung was nowhere to be seen, but knowing him, he was probably still sleeping.

“Jin hyung yesterday had a flimsy shirt. I think we have never seen that much skin of him! It was so windy!!!” Jimin said, imitating the shirt lifting, his teasing voice all out while his eyes disappeared in a big smile.

You had held on pretty fairly for the whole tour, always taking twenty minutes to have a chat almost every day. You had visited him mid-tour in New York for a couple days, but otherwise you had endured the distance with a tight-lipped smile.

But right now you felt your heart chipping slightly, tears coming to your eyes. You promptly swiped them away.

Jimin, always so attuned to your emotions, noticed it right away. “Baby, are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s the onions!” You smiled and quickly went back to your cooking. But he knew. Seventeen more days until he could see you again. And hold you. And lose himself in you again. He wasn’t bold enough for steamy video calls like Tae. And it’s not like those could provide the kind of emotional support that made him crave for intimacy and reassured him after it. But still, he wanted you to know.

So that night, after making his suitcase, he entered a website he had been tiptoeing around for a while and started exploring, sometimes with shame tinting his cheeks, sometimes with curiosity capturing his stare, sometimes with desire warming his loins. After a thorough analysis of every single category, he checked the basket and proceeded to shipping and payment.

A couple days later you awoke to pictures flooding your twitter feed, your beautiful boyfriend and his six band mates walking out of the LAX airport, Jimin wearing a flowing, quite see-through sky blue shirt embroidered in lilies, his delirious ballerina legs clad in his usual skinny black jeans. Blonde and gracious, lips pouty and pink, sunglasses on, he waved at the crowd and disappeared inside a grey van with a flirty grin. You barely held in a moan. And the long time without any kind of intimacy was most definitely getting to your head. Your fingers toyed with the edge of your panties, almost ready to give up on your intention of waiting for Jimin to come back and get you wild. But right in that moment your doorbell rang and you quickly donned a robe to answer the door. As you saw the delivery boy from the security cam, your first thought was that you had not ordered anything and out of suspicion you properly got dressed. But when he got to your apartment’s door he mentioned the name of the sender and everything made sense, though you hadn’t quite expected a surprise. You thanked him and got inside, package in hand, straight to the kitchen where you grabbed a knife and tore the seal. It was quite heavy and big, and the tag name was not recognisable. With increased curiosity, you opened the lid and saw a small envelope. It had been typed but it seemed to be signed under Jimin’s safe name, Your angel fairy.

“There are things you promised me and things I promised you for when I come back. But there is just one thing we both promised to each other for eternity. And that is Love. Every single object in here is only aimed at that. For a loving heartfelt and gentle as a cherry. For a loving playful and childlike like tickles. For a loving sparkling like twin falling stars. For a loving loyal and enthralling like chains of gold. For a loving sturdy and stinging as wood and leather. For a loving precious like a gem. And finally for a loving eternal as the darkness of the night. To my beloved,

From your angel fairy.”

He had really splurged on this.

You bit your lip in anticipation and tried to guess who was who. Because for those seven types of loving there were seven corresponding items. The first one had to be the massage candles. You once had told him you wanted to try and massage him with those and probably cherries were his fragrance of choice.

The second must have been the tickler, the delicate white feathers perfectly matching Jimin’s personality and taste. Twin falling stars was a bit trickier but at the bottom of the box you found a smaller elegant box containing a delicate chain with two star-shaped, sparkly nipple clamps, which you absolutely adored.

The chains of gold must have been the fine jewellery harness designed to wrap around your neck, snake down between your breasts and loosely hang around your waist in multiple strings.

The wood and leather must have been the double sided paddle, one softened with some padding and leather, the other nothing but unforgiving hardwood. A corner of your mind went back to that time he had brought your large wooden hair-brush on top of your bed and asked you if you wanted to try it on him, you remembered how you had curled a hand around his cheek, comforting and reassuring him, praising him, showing that there was nothing to be ashamed or afraid of. The bright red colour of his behind the morning after, your worried expression and his face hiding in your neck when he told you not to worry because he had enjoyed every second of it.

That loving, precious like a gem, could be nothing but the buttplug, which you had confessed you wanted to try on yourself during your last escapade in New York. You looked forward to that.

And finally the darkness of the night - the blindfold. Black and silken.

“A little bird told me you received a package... How do you like it?” There it was, Jimin’s text. You couldn’t wait for that little brat to come back home.

Taehyung

Brazil was beautiful. A beautiful hot mess. He felt sweat in his every nook and cranny, the humidity sticking to his skin even though it was almost midnight. As he got out of the shower he looked at himself in the mirror. He still felt messy.

He also felt like calling you. Right then and there.

He felt like being at home and walking in your shared room naked and getting head from you. With the windows open and some night breeze flowing in.

“Thinking about you.” He simply texted.

“Just out of a meeting. Can’t wait to head home.” You replied. “But I still have a lot to do.”

“I miss you in my bed.”

“Do you, now?” You were half walking half texting, waiting to get your lunch.

“I need you to get rid of some steam...”

“Tonight, promise.” As your order was ready, you quickly proceeded to eat.

Taehyung didn’t reply. He was tired and you were busy.

He collapsed in bed shortly after putting down his phone.

His sleep was troubled, he woke up tangled in the sheets, his leg thrown over a mountain of pillows and his hips were agonisingly pressing against the humid white cotton. Again, he felt sweaty. And turned on. He felt compressed. Like a clown inside a box that jumps out when you open it. He wondered what it would take for his box to be opened.

When he woke up he saw your “good morning” text, replied quickly before rinsing his face and hitting the gym in the hotel. He overworked himself in hope it could get the thought of you out of his head. Instead, every exercise had him thinking about new ways to fuck you, a stronger, healthier body meaning nothing but much more force and more experimental and effective angles. Jungkook and Jimin obviously noticed, while Namjoon and Jin kept obliviously running on the treadmill.

“You think he’s angry?” Asked Jungkook.

“Just repressed. We should tell the girls to warn his girlfriend. Maybe we should have her come meet him.”

“The trip is long and she’s gonna be jet-lagged out of her mind. Let’s just tell the girls and have the two of them figure it out.”

Jungkook told his girlfriend through text: “Can you tell Tae’s girlfriend to call him? He’s getting sour.”

“Told her. She said she on it. Luv you. Later.” Jungkook blushed thinking about his plans for later that night and then moved on with his exercises.

Taehyung kept bench pressing like he wanted to lift the whole world with his two bare shouders.

At around four pm, his phone far away from him to keep him from doing something stupid, Taehyung was stage rehearsing, his voice rougher and angrier than ever, his whole body craving for release and intimacy. At this point Yoongi too had noticed, giving a small side glance to Jimin, who shook his shoulders in hopelessness.

As he grew more and more insufferable, Namjoon saw it was almost six pm and called for a break, immediately nearing Taehyung and taking him aside for a while.

“What’s wrong.” Namjoon didn’t approach the matter softly.

Taehyung took a pause. Namjoon was almost tempted to call Jimin. Maybe he knew how to deal with this. Maybe he was too rough, too direct or too logical rather than emotional, he could —

“I miss her, hyung.” Taehyung said. Namjoon exhaled heavily. He knew how that felt. “I miss her and we call each other every day, we text, but it’s so bad. I miss everything about her. I thought it was a crush and that it would be easy. After all we’ve been dating for a couple months and...” Namjoon waited, his eyes fixed on Tae. “But I think I’m in love. It’s like, here.” He pressed his fist between his ribs and his stomach. “And I’m so tense, all the time. At night it’s even worse. I haven’t been sleeping much.”

Namjoon waited as if to let him speak, but apparently he was done. “Do you want to call her? Take the rest of the day off and we go on without you?”

“She’s sleeping right now. Fucking time zones. And if I call her, it will get worse.”

Namjoon knew. The wanting, the longing. It just intensifies.

Namjoon checked his phone. “Okay. Rehearsal’s almost over anyways. You just need to survive a couple more songs, then we’re gonna take a night just the seven of us, yeah?”

Taehyung nodded.

“Also, schedule a video call. We’ll be in London in four days and time difference will be easier.” He patted his shoulder. “And please, get laid. Or you can take it out on the stage tomorrow. Army will go feral if they see you like this.”

Taehyung chuckled.

“Do we have anything scheduled tomorrow morning?”

“Concert tomorrow night so no schedule until 11. Jin, JK and I are hitting the gym at nine, if you wanna join.”

“We‘ll see.” Tae smiled. He felt better.

Rehearsal ended up okay after that, Taehyung in a more playful mood. As soon as he got to his phone he saw one of your texts, he was tempted opening it right away, but he waited when he saw it was a lengthy voice note.

He arrived in his hotel room and hit the shower straight away. He was supposed to meet the others in half an hour, and he knew if he laid down and listened to your text he would get distracted and call you. As he got out of the shower he got dressed and sat on the bed, his phone tempting him. Damn it. He opened the text.

“Taehyung-“ A heavy breath. “I’ve been missing you.” Your voice was soft and delicate, almost sleepy. “It’s five am and I can’t sleep.” A raspy moan followed and he had to rewind the text and turn up the volume. Moan confirmed. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Your hands on me, everywhere. The way you kissed me before you left.” This time the moaning was clearer and louder. “Every time I touch myself I feel like my fingers aren’t long or strong enough compared to yours.” Tae felt that comment in his bones. He would be late to dinner anyway. From his phone you emitted a small whimper. “Good, the way you went down on me. I’ve tried toys that could possibly substitute you as long as you’re away but no toy could ever look at me like you did that night, with your mouth latched on my clit and your hand grasping my thighs.” He could almost taste you. God, that night had been indecent to say the least. “I can’t wait to have you back. I’m gonna have you laid out in bed, spread wide on top of the sheets and I’m gonna ride you until I can‘t even remember how much I missed you.”

Now Taehyung moaned himself. He texted you. It was nine am in Seoul, that meant you were at work, that meant you’d be worked up all day long.

“I’m free tomorrow morning. That is tonight, to you. I wanna see that nasty shit you’ve been up to with my wanna-be substitute. Maybe if you’re good enough I’m gonna send you a little something too. But you’ll have to earn it.”

He was already going to send you a golden necklace with a vibrating pendant anyway.

Jungkook

He didn’t let himself think about you much. Just ten minutes in the shower. Sometimes eight were enough, it just depended on how turned on he was. Even though your trip to Australia was making things difficult, you still managed to see each other every day or so. Sometimes you just had dinner with a screen in front of each other, chatting about your day. Sometimes you called after dinner, a glass of wine, some laughter, the boys coming in every now and then to say hi and ask how you were doing. Other times it was strictly the two of you, your soft voice reassuring him as he confessed how he was feeling. This distance had seriously improved your communication, especially since there was no way to use body language to express feelings and emotions. You reminded him daily that you love him, always telling him before you closed the call. He told you daily about what was going on and how he felt about it. He really hoped you would keep being so talkative when you came back. Most importantly, he hoped you would keep praising him. Sometimes he did exactly what you wanted so that you would praise him. He realised that the more he expressed how he felt, the more loving and praising you grew.

Your stay in Australia was supposed to last a little more than five weeks. Three weeks had gone by quickly, always busy with paperwork or work appointments. However, lately you had started missing Jungkook a little bit too severely. You knew he was shy and you would never press him into doing anything he didn’t hint at you. So when one night, after a glass of wine too many, he started talking about how much he missed your body, you replied encouragingly, leading him on.

“What do you miss about it?”

“You know. Waking up beside you. Feeling you next to me early in the morning.”

“I miss that too. Starting the day without you in the shower is difficult,” you teased, pushing it a little.

He blushed a little. “Do you miss that too?”

“I miss all of that. Do you?” You filled your glass once more. Maybe it would help you loosen up a little.

“You know I do.” He mirrored your gesture and took a sip.

“It feels good when you say it,” you answered, undoing a button of your blouse.

“I miss your body a lot. Even though I don’t usually think about it. It gets worse,” he said, eyes were glued to your fingers.

“I’m happy that you told me. It makes me feel like I’m not alone in this.”

“You are not alone. But I wish I was there.” He was going to evaporate.

You took a deep breath.

“What would you do if you were here?”

“Kiss you. Straight away. I’d hold you so tight I’d almost suffocate you.” He didn’t hesitate one second before answering your question. But then he took a long pause. “I would pick you up, wrap your legs around my waist. Lay you down on the bed. Kiss you harder.”

You licked your lips. “Have you been hitting the gym more often lately?”

He was a little bit confused by your question but he nodded.

“It shows. You look stronger. Makes me wonder how good it will be when we do it again.”

His mouth hung open. “I—“

“Use your words, sweetie.”

His situation got even worse as he blushed for the nickname. And then his whole demeanour did a 180. “Forget the bed. I think I’m gonna slam you against the wall. You’d be wearing a skirt and it would be so easy to slip inside you.”

You worded the next sentence carefully. If you pushed it too much, he would emotionally ball up like a hedgehog and shut you out. “Would you have me against the wall?”

“Fuck you standing? Yes, babe.” He pressed his tongue against his cheek, then clenched his jaw. His hand was laying on his thigh, slipping slowly to his crotch. Nothing you were going to notice since his camera was on his face and part of his chest.

“But you know I’m heavy, right?”

“You’re not that heavy. I can pick you up if I want to. And lately you’ve been looking thinner. I hope you’re eating. I love feeling you up,” he purred.

“I’ve been working out too. I have to get you out of my head.”

“What do you need to get out of your head?”

“All the things I want from you.” You needed him to push you a little.

“What do you want?”

“I want you inside me.”

“Yeah, and? Come on, babe, use your words.” His smile was borderline sadistic as he used your own words against you.

“Messy, sweaty. I don’t care if it hurts. I want you to fuck me so hard I’ll be feeling it for days afterwards.”

He moaned a little at that. How tight you would feel around him... He realised it was the right moment to tell you. “I got us something.”

“What?”

“It’s supposed to arrive by the time you’re here.”

“Really? What is it?”

He took a deep breath and then he started spitting out words at an alarming rate.

“The other day at the gym there was this couple doing something like couple yoga or something, and she was hanging from a hammock of sort and I couldn’t help but think about how intimate it was and how much I wanted to do that with you and I got us a swing.”

“You what?” You brought the glass to your lips again. Smiling.

“I got us a swing.”

“What kind of swing, baby?”

“That kind of swing. I saw it in a... video, sometime ago, and I remembered it and I wanna use it with you. If you want to, I mean, we don’t have to—” He babbled adorably.

“What if I want to?”

He inhaled and took a sip of wine.

“I can’t wait to use it with you. I keep imagining the sound of you slamming against me. I’ll moan for you so loud and lovely that everyone will know you’re loving me nice and good. You’re amazing, Koo.”

He basked in your compliment. “Come back home soon. Otherwise I’ll have to come and get you. Cuff you to my own wrist and bring you back to my side, where you belong.”

“Can’t wait to put my hands on you. My mouth,” you murmured, one more button coming undone.

“You can’t right now, but if you take off your shirt maybe you might convince me to take the first plane to Sydney.” 

His hand had already undone his belt and he was almost going to undo the button of his jeans when you said, “do you think I could convince you if I told you I’m not wearing a bra right now?”

He looked shocked. “You should show me.”

You quickly undid your blouse and let it hang open. That’s when he noticed something glittering.

“Is it...”

“I thought I could use the time away to get it done, so it can properly heal.”

Right there, on your right nipple you let the small piercing show.

“You’re so getting fucked when you come back. First I’ll get my tongue on that and you know exactly where it’s gonna go next.”

You grinned devilishly. “Good, because it’s all I’ve been thinking of.”

[purplesurveys]

1277

Who are you most nervous about introducing potential significant others to?  Ooooh moving forward, probably Angela hahahaha I have no idea how I’d break it to her if ever I do start seeing somebody again. She’s well aware of all the shit that I let slide so she might get intense with the scrutineering.

What is the most exciting thing about your life right now?  Just the fact that I feel on top of the world these days. My days of being depressed and picking at my insecurities seem to be far behind me and the change has looked to be apparent coming from friends who’ve told me I seem happier, louder these days.

What was the most important non-academic thing you learned in high school?  To not be scared to fight harder for the things you believe in or what make up your identity, coming from having to hide a same-sex relationship during that period. That feeling of being constricted and having to hide to stay on some conservative seniors’ good graces really pissed me off so high school was really crucial in letting me discover just how much I’d be willing to fight and test the waters to be able to live as me.

Have you ever had a job that deeply affected your personal life? How so and do you still work there?  Hmm no, not really. If anything my job is one of the things that helped make me a lot livelier and happier.

Do you have a “one who got away”?  It felt that way at the start when my view was still skewed, but it didn’t take long until I realized she was not a loss at all.

If you were in a superhero movie, would you be the hero or the villain? Hero.

If you found a mouse in your house, would you be frightened?  Mice or rats are the literal worst fucking thing I could see in my house. I definitely see myself making a big deal out of it lmao, especially rats.

Have you ever tried to perform magic tricks?  Nobody ever taught me, so no.

Can you do more with a yo-yo than just "go up and down"? Nah, which kinda makes me feel ashamed because considering it was a Filipino who invented the modern yo-yo, I feel like it should be my responsibility to know a few tricks LOL.

What is one form of technology that you wouldn't be able to live without?  Instant messenger.

Did you get an allowance, growing up? Why or why not?  Starting high school. Before that I was living in our family’s duplex, so my grandma could make packed meals for all of us – not to mention the fact that my parents were also still on their way to establishing themselves at their respective workplaces so we weren’t all that well-off yet. 

When we moved into our own place, we started with my mom making our meals but eventually it just proved to be time-consuming and a lot of work considering she also had a job to go to. With that and the fact that both my parents at that point already got a couple of promotions, we switched to allowance.

Would you rather go to a water park or an amusement park? Why?  Amusement parks though I would only probably head to the safer rides and food stalls with all the deep-fried offerings haha. I cannot handle more intense rides. On the other hand, water parks have always sounded nasty to me.

What is one instrument you wouldn't mind learning how to play?  Piano.

What's the longest amount of time you've had to wait in line for something?  The stupid LTO, because you can never count on government agencies to be efficient. Technically my whole time in there took a couple of stages, but all in all I spent eight hours there.

What is something that you would like to learn more about?  Korean. I just graduated from my Basic Korean 1 class but I already have plans to enroll in the following course, since I seemed to do well and I want to keep the momentum going.

What is something that one of your family member collects?  Mom has a large collection of chef-themed figurines and other sorts of trinkets like a chef timer, shot glasses, etc - but mostly the figurines - that she has displayed in a glass case. I should keep that in mind for when I start Christmas shopping, actually...she hasn’t updated that collection in a long time. Thanks for the idea!

Have you ever moved to a new school before? If so, how did it feel?  No, not in the middle of the same period since I went to the same school from kinder to high school for 14 years. I only “moved” when I started college. Like I’ve said in previous surveys, it felt freeing to finally not under be the hands of an environment ran by...well, Catholics. It was a culture shock to see rallies everywhere, to find out I could wear short shorts or even go to school naked if I wanted to, and to see boys in my class (I went to an all-girls), but it was all the good kind of shock.

Have you ever legitimately forgotten to do homework?  Always, because I never wrote them down.

Do you enjoy autumn leaves or spring flowers more? Why?  I experience neither season.

Depending on where you live, why might a day of school get canceled? Typhoon.

If you could meet any fictional character from a book, who would it be? Melanie Hamilton from Gone with the World.

What are some common places that people tour when they come to your city?  I rarely see foreigners here since my area isn’t particularly known for tourism; most go to the island provinces like Cebu, Aklan, Palawan, etc. If I had to recommend spots here, I’d tell them to go for Pinto and maybe the rooftop bars that offer a view of Manila’s skyline. 

What's one food that you did not enjoy as a child, but do as an adult?  Chicken curry, which I used to dread.

Would you rather have a mermaid tail, a fairy's wings or a unicorn's horn? I guess the wings just because I feel like it’s the only practical one.

What is an animal that you'd like to have as a pet but it's not allowed?  I don’t think that way about animals I can’t keep as pets anyway.

What are some things that you do to make the world a better place?  I always clean up at restaurants (my mom doesn’t understand why I do it because “the servers are here for a reason, Robyn”) but I always see the relief on their faces when they see I’ve stacked up the plates and cups so I don’t see a reason to stop doing it. I keep the door open for people who happen to enter/exit a building the same time as me, share dog adoption posts, don’t make a fuss about or towards a shop staff who messes up...things like that. I hope it’s able to help, even if just in a small way.

Has the last person you had sex with ever had sex with someone besides you?  I don’t know. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has already.

What’s your favorite store at your mall?  We have several malls within the vicinity but I like frequenting NCAT.

Have you ever done a workout DVD?  No but my mom is fond of those.

Who usually takes out the trash in your family?  Either of my parents.

What song are you currently obsessed with?  My Universe is soooooo good. It’s Coldplay’s classic sound but they somehow managed to perfectly blend in BTS’ style as well, so I love how it turned out.

When you go fishing, do you make someone else get the fish off the hook?  I've never gone fishing.

Do you take any prescription meds?  Nope.

What happens if you don’t take them?  Who was the last person you dreamt about?  My dad.

Do you prefer your tea sweetened or unsweetened?  Sweetened, though I don’t usually actively look for iced tea. I’d have it if it was served, but I don’t typically order it for myself.

How often do you honk your horn?  As long as I am annoyed, which gives my mom a mini heart attack every time because she insists I just let people have their way to avoid getting into fights. Sometimes when she’s driving and someone’s being stupid on the road I lurch forward to do the honking for her and it pisses her off soooooooooo much but it also gets the job done so *shrug*

Do you have any children? If so, names and ages? I don’t.

Have your parents ever witnessed you doing something inappropriate? What?  TMI but I almost got caught doing the m-word once but my reflexes were at lightning speed that day so when my door opened I was able to fix myself up and appear as though nothing was happening lol. My mom also saw a hickey on me once but I was able to veer the conversation away when she started inquiring.

Did you get babysat a lot as a kid?  No, I did the babysitting.

If you were the principal of a school, what would you do differently? Actually deal with teachers who mistreat or make issues towards their students. I had several teachers I know didn’t like me but I could never do anything about it because there was no way in hell the school was going to take my side.

Are you doing anything fun tomorrow?  Continued from yesterday. If I took this question yesterday to refer to today I would’ve answered yes because we actually have a really fun PR stunt scheduled for execution today, wherein we get to sponsor someone’s whole wedding from food to flowers to the host and fillm crew :D :D But tomorrow is just Monday so the real answer to this is no.

What is something you'd like to receive as a housewarming gift?  I dunno the usual housewarming gifts, but I would appreciate anything practical, or anything that you’ll need at the least expected times, like batteries or even like Sticky Tack.

How old were you when you first experienced the effects of puberty?  Oooh I was an early bird – I was 9 when I could first tell my first period was on its way; it came a month after I turned 10.

What is your least favorite holiday, and why?  I don’t dislike any holiday because they all mean a day off work lol.

What were some outdoor games you played as a child?  We usually played piko (hopscotch), our local version of freeze tag that we dubbed “Ice ice water” for whatever reason, and a garter game that we call 10-20. Dodgeball was a favorite during recess and lunch, too.

Did you accompany your parents on "Take Your Child to Work" Day? That’s not observed here, but my mom did use to take me and my siblings to her first workplace. Are cemeteries peaceful to you, or do they freak you out?  They’re actually more interesting to me than anything else. I like learning about the different lives of many different people, even if I only technically know them by their birthday and date of death. Sometimes the inscriptions would be more detailed and tell more about their life, sometimes I’d come across babies who only lived a few days...and it’s just interesting to have those glimpses into life.

Which ancient civilization would you be interested in learning more about?  Filipino, because Western colonization destroyed proof of most of it. 

Do you have better long-term memory or short-term memory?  Long.

What was the last situation that made you cry? Describe.  I cried this morning. Nothing bad or heavy, I just found myself thinking again about my mental state last year.

Which forest animal would you be most afraid to encounter?  Anything that wouldn’t hesitate to tear my limbs apart.

Do you believe in anything supernatural? (ie: spirits, etc)  No.

Has anyone close to you ever gone to war?  No. The closest link I have to the military, other than my dead great-grandfather, is Angela’s uncle who’s like a general or like a colonel or something, idk titles.

Have you ever experienced altitude sickness?  Yeah, occasionally. Pressure in the ear is a bigger nuisance to me, though.

Is there anything, any event, you wish you could remember more clearly?  The last time I saw my grandfather. My only clear memory of him that day was stepping out of the house to leave (my mom and I were visiting) and him sending me off with the message to always be kind and good. If I had known I would never see him again, I never would’ve left.

Have you ever rubbed anyone’s feet?  Hmm no, not that I can recall.

If you had to get advice from someone of the opposite sex, who would you go to?  I’d go to Hans for certain advice, but not for every single situation. He’s the only person that comes to mind.

What was the last new food/drink that you tried?  So last Wednesday I finally got to try this Instagram-based doughnut shop that I’ve been eyeing since August and it turned out to be even MUCH BETTER THAN EXPECTEDDDDDD. Like yeah their photos were always mouthwatering but I didn’t expect it to taste as good as it looks, since most pretty food I’ve encountered usually end up just tasting meh. Anywho, I got two orders of their sampler box and they served me their specialty bacon doughnut, signature brown butter, and a bunch of their chocolate and peanut butter variants and I loved every single fucking thing.

Have you had a good day today or was yesterday better?  Oh it’s hard to tell, it’s only 9:05 AM. Both days might be uneventful, though.

Have you ever played Sudoku?  I don’t actually get how to play it hahaha. I feel like I’m too stupid for sudoku.

Do you ever take surveys for money?  I tried it last year when applying for jobs was still a bitch for me, but the thing is most of those surveys look for employed participants so there was rarely ever a survey that fit me anyway.

Do you like Barbie or Bratz better?  Bratz.

Do you prefer purple or green grapes?  I don’t like grapes.

Who was the last person that made you laugh?  Idk, probs one of the boys since I was watching videos of them earlier today.

Where does your best friend live?  A nearby city.

Who did you last confide in?  Angela.

Does your car have an alarm?  Sure.

Where was your mom born?  Somewhere in Metro Manila.

What can always make you feel better no matter what?  My dogs.

What is something you’ll never eat again? Why?  I don’t think there is anything. I feel like I’m always bound to retry things and that I would be open to doing so, even fruits. One thing I’m firm about never drinking again, though, is coconut water. Get that SHIT away from me.

What is currently happening that is scaring you?  I’m not feeling scared these days.

Have you ever found a stranger’s note somewhere? If so, what did it say?  Probably. But nothing sticks out.

[copperleaf1]

Tirunelveli Hotels: Top-Rated Comfort at Copper Leaf (Budget-Friendly!)

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[honeymoonavenue]

ariana performing successful on night one of her sweetener tour

[pengychan]

[Good Omens] Winging It - Matthew 16:19

Summary: Shockingly, attempting to destroy an angel without consulting God first comes with consequences. There is more than one way to fall, and a thousand more ways to inconvenience an angel and a demon who just wanted to be left in peace. Characters: Gabriel, Crowley, Aziraphale, Beelzebub, Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon Rating: T  

Prologue and all chapters are tagged as ‘winging it’ on my blog.

A/N: Someone's having second thoughts..

***

Like every demon - or angel, for that matter - Beelzebub, Prince of Hell and Lord of the Flies, did not require sleep. 

Last time they had slept had been sometime in the early 1300s, when some Italian scribbler who was very much alive had inexplicably gained access to Hell and proceeded to take a tour. He’d been found rather quickly and escorted to Beelzebub’s office while Dagon tried to find out how in Heaven had a living mortal gained access. 

They never did find out - the explanation that he ‘got lost in a forest’ was of amazingly little use - and for the entire time he was there, the mortal did nothing but ramble about his political enemies back in Florence. In rhyme, which was perplexing but hadn’t done much to make up for the sheer boredom of the entire tirade. 

In the end, Beelzebub had just fallen asleep; when they woke up again, the mortal had been thrown back up on Earth. Theoretically the decision should have been theirs, but truth be told it had been a relief and Beelzebub had been rather glad someone else had gotten that windbag out of their hair. 

The mortal had proceeded to write about his short visit to Hell but, when they got their hands on a copy of their account - all in rhyme, of course - the Lord of the Flies hadn’t been too surprised to find that the account mostly consisted of entirely made-up fantasies.

Plenty of revenge fantasies, which they could respect, but fantasies nonetheless. Beelzebub had later found out the man had claimed to have visited Heaven too, which Gabriel firmly denied during a meeting - rather annoyed by the implication he would break out in song about the holiness of Maryam for no apparent reason other than putting up a show for a mortal.

“No mortal was ever here before death,” he had said rather stiffly. “Clearly, our security is not the one that needs improvement.”

Neither of them had the foggiest idea what that ‘Purgatory’ nonsense was all about, and it was eye-wateringly boring to read, so they had just let the matter drop.

Anyway. To cut a very long story short, Beelzebub did not require sleep.

Gabriel did, on the other hand, and it hadn’t taken all that long for him to fall asleep, snoring… not loudly, but just enough to grate the nerves of anyone who didn’t happen to be a Prince of Hell with rather hellish tastes over what was a soothing sound and what was not. So in the end they had stayed exactly where they were, and elected to follow his example by falling asleep as well, not least because it meant it would allow them to put off actually thinking about what had just happened for a few more hours.

They hadn’t counted on waking up with the distinct feeling of being in the grip of a kraken because Gabriel had apparently decided to cling to them with all limbs. With a roll of their eyes, Beelzebub changed form into that of a fly to escape it and re-transformed a few feet away from the bed, eyeing in silence at the still sleeping form that occupied it.

Gabriel was laying on his side, and Beelzebub could distinctly see the ragged scars on his shoulder blades, where the wings had been cut away. Or rather, torn; Michael’s sword may have helped cut them away, yes, but they figured the last part would need to be done by hand, ripping the stumps right out of his flesh so that nothing remained. 

They could imagine the scene quite well, the dripping blood and the wet ripping sound; all quite familiar in Hell, all things they were rather indifferent to. Not that time, though. Now, the more they stared, the angrier they got. 

How dare they damage him, they thought. I ought to have enveloped Michael in Hellfire when she stepped in my throne room with that useless pitcher of holy water, they thought. 

Except that they knew that would have hurt Gabriel more than even having his wings torn out had. Despite everything, despite his old friends’ choice to carry out his sentence rather than rebelling on his behalf, Gabriel still claimed he understood their choice. 

“We don’t question God,” he had told them last time they had brought up the subject, his voice somewhat sorrowful. “I would have done the same in their place, if I was the one ordered to cast out any of them. I don’t think I would now, but I would have then.”

But when he had a chance to strike Ba’al down, so very long ago, he had not. He had tried to reach out. He had tried to keep them there.

Ba’al.

Looking silently at Gabriel’s back, which rose and fell with each breath - with each snore - Beelzebub could admit to themselves that in a corner of their mind, throughout the night before, they had feared to hear that name again. They had feared it would leave Gabriel’s lips while he gasped in the dark, holding onto them, looking up at them in the faint light coming from the streetlight outside the window. They had feared it would all turn out to be about who they had been, and could never be again.

But that name hadn’t been uttered, not even once. Gabriel was not longing for someone long gone: he knew exactly who he’d chosen to spend the night with regardless of any possible consequences. When the sickly-sweet, cloying sense of love which had almost choked them when they first remembered what had been returned, Beelzebub knew it was for them. For the Prince of Hell and Lord of the Flies, as they were, right there and then.

It was worrying. It was a relief. It was doubly worrying that it was a relief. Beelzebub, who pointed out often and gladly how Gabriel was never the sharpest knife in the drawer, began to belatedly realize they’d been hoisted by their own petard. And as soon as they did, they found themselves doing the only thing they could think of: find something else to keep themselves occupied with, anything to turn their musings away from the thing churning in their chest.

And at the moment there didn’t seem to be a lot to do other than making coffee, so they went with that. By the time they poured the hot water from the cheap electric kettle into a mug filled halfway with soluble coffee, Gabriel was beginning to stir. 

Two thoughts hit Beelzebub at the same time: the first was that they were still unclothed, which was not proper, and the second that they really didn’t much care what was proper and what was not. As they did their best to regain composure, bringing the mug to their lips, Gabriel turned on his back and then yawned, which made his face look really stupid. Beelzebub gave him an unimpressed glance over the rim of their mug. 

Then Gabriel sat up on the bed and stretched. Beelzebub's glance was... a little less unimpressed. At least for a few seconds, until the second Gabriel turned to look at them; when he did, their expression was unimpressed as ever. Clearly unbothered by that fact, he smiled. 

“Good morning,” he said.

Beezelbub scoffed. “I cannot imagine what could possibly be so good about mornings.”

“Well, last night was--” he paused, searching for a word. “Pleasant. No?”

There was the slightest, barely detectable trace of hesitation in his voice. It told Beelzebub two things, in no uncertain terms: that he certainly found it pleasant, and that being told the Lord of the Flies hadn’t would probably wound his pride… or perhaps even cut a bit deeper than that. 

And Beelzebub was not generally in the habit of lying. Looking at Gabriel now did not really bring forth any urges, regardless how annoyingly good looking he was, but the act itself had been pleasant and they saw no point in denying it. There was a great deal they were currently denying - well, delaying having to reflect upon - but the pleasure they took was not it. 

“It was,” they conceded, and the hesitation on Gabriel’s face disappeared almost instantly. “But it was last night. I asked what is so good about this morning.”

A shrug. “You made coffee,” Gabriel said, standing up. Beelzebub scoffed.

“For myself. You can make your own,” the Lord of the Flies replied, and brought the mug up to their lips - only for it to be taken away in a quick, annoyingly smooth motion. 

“Thank you.”

“I said it’s for myself.”

“I only need a couple of sips.”

“No,” Beelzebub snapped, and reached to take the mug again, only for Gabriel to lift it up above his head… and well above their reach. They glared up at him with enough intensity to melt metal. Figuratively, of course, or else Gabriel would have indeed begun melting or burst into flames, which would have been well-deserved but rather unpleasant. Instead he stood there, alive and well and with that dumb smile still on his face. Ugh, the idiot. 

Beelzebub crossed their arms. “Are you this stupidly tall with the only purpose of annoying me?”

“Well, I do appreciate the looks of my current form, but it was not my decision. You should take your complaint to God.”

“Believe me, I will once the War happens--”

“If the War happens…”

“-- And we tear down the gates to Heaven to conquer it.”

“Of course.” Gabriel chuckled and brought the steaming mug to his mouth and took a gulp - only to immediately spit it back in the mug with a hawking noise. Beelzebub made a face. 

“... Come to think of it, you can keep it.”

“Agh! Did you--how much powder-- is there any sugar…?” he choked. Beelzebub’s lips twitched. “Are you familiar, even in passing, with the expression ‘bitter as Hell’?”

“Ugh!” Gabriel made a face, putting the mug of coffee down and rubbing his lips with the back of his hand. “Is this why you didn’t stop me?”

Truth be told Beelzebub hadn’t thought for a moment he may not appreciate highly concentrated soluble coffee without any sweetener to speak of, but they immediately decided to stick with that version. It sounded quite a bit better than ‘I forgot I could have forced you to give it back with a mere fraction of the power in my left hand’s little finger’.

So in the end they said, “This ought to teach you not to cross the Lord of the Flies.”

Gabriel wrinkled his nose. “Evil,” he muttered, but his lips were curling in a smile again. Beelzebub had been called evil plenty of times - occasionally as an insult, more often as a neutral and objective descriptor and several times with well-deserved reverence - but they couldn’t remember any other time there’d been such obvious fondness attached to it.

He is an idiot, they thought, and I am twice the idiot he is for falling right in my own trap.

“You may apologize by making more coffee,” they muttered, and he did, not really bothering to cover himself in any way. Not that Beelzebub had expected him to show embarrassment over his nakedness - they hadn’t bothered to put anything on yet either, that sort of shame was entirely too human for them and they suspected they were well past that phase either way - but what made them pause was the realization that Gabriel no longer attempted to conceal the scars where his wings had been from their gaze.

***

“... And then I suggest we put together a task force to put some order in the Earth observation files. I suppose a lot of issues could have been avoided if we’d kept a closer eye on those in the past few millennia.”

Uriel nodded at Micheal’s words, writing something down. “Yes, it makes sense. I will make a list of viable names for it.”

A nod. “Good. Anything else? Sandalphon?” she called out… getting no answer. “Sandalphon.”

Michael’s tone grew just a little sharper, but it was enough to make Sandalphon recoil. He cleared his throat, looking up. “Yes, yes. I agree.”

Michael stared. “Agree to what, specifically?”

“To the-- the thing with the-- and that other-- thing, with...” Sandalphon searched for the next word for a few moments, gave up, and let out a sigh, dropping his shoulders. “My apologies. I got distracted. But I am sure I agree with whatever you just said.”

Michael let out a sigh, gathering the papers. “And what is it that had you so distracted?”

Sandalphon hesitated a moment, acutely aware of Uriel’s gaze on him. “I was thinking about Gabriel,” he began, causing Michael to lift her gaze from the sheets and look at him. 

“What of him? Is he all right?” she asked, frowning. She’d seen Gabriel a couple of weeks earlier, but as she had taken on the lion’s share of what had been Gabriel’s role on top of her own - Sandalphon wondered, not for the first time, if it was her way to make up for the fact she had been the one to cut off his wings - there had been no time for her to pay him another visit. 

“No, no, he’s fine,” Sandalphon said quickly. “Called him a couple of days ago. He was on his way back from Devon, from a visit to that Brown fellow’s brother. He asked to confirm if all dogs do indeed go to Heaven, no idea why, but I checked for him. They do, by the way. No exceptions. Cats as well - most animals, really. The only exception to the rule are geese.”

Michael’s lips curled in a smile. “That’s good to know. What’s on your mind about Gabriel, then?”

“Well…” Sandalphon looked at the pen in his hands, fidgeting with it. “You know how we… reversed that entire thing with forgetting about him? By accepting we had to remember what we didn’t want to think about, and not just what we wished to remember?”

“Of course we do,” Uriel said, and something in her tone caused Sandalphon to look up. One glance, and he instinctively knew. “... You’re wondering if it would be the same for the others.”

Sandalphon nodded. Michael frowned in confusion , gaze shifting between the two of them.

“Others? What are you two talking about?”

Uriel looked at her in the eye. “The other ones that Fell. Long ago,” she said, and Michael’s posture stiffened, her hands gripping the sheets just a little tighter. 

“... We have no reason to wish to remember them. They’re gone. What is left are enemies, and-”

“And enemies are easier to fight if you can't recall them being anything else,” Uriel finished. 

Sandalphon suspected that was not how Michael had meant her sentence to go, but she did not argue against her statement. It was true; they all knew that. Michael was silent for a few moments, and finally stood. “There’s your answer. We may remember them if we try, I suppose, the same way we did with Gabriel. But ask yourselves if you really think we should,” she said, her voice quiet, and left the meeting room without another word. 

Sandalphon let out a long breath just as Uriel turned to look at him. She seemed calm, her voice quiet when she spoke. “What do you think, then? Should we?”

Until not too long ago, Sandalphon knew, the answer would have been a resounding no. Things were easier, then. Now, he sighed. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “I really don’t know.”

***

When a look at Gabriel’s folder revealed no new sins, Beelzebub was… not precisely surprised. They were not disappointed, either, which was rather more surprising than the blank bottom half of the sheet they were currently glaring at. They scoffed and closed the folder, letting it drop on the floor by their throne.

Well, there was the answer - carnal acts with a demon did not count as a grievous sin, or any kind of sin at all. Beelzebub now felt doubly foolish for telling Gabriel there was even a risk, if anything because it gave him a chance to show off how sickeningly sappy he could get.

“I figured,” the idiot had said. “I think I’ll take the chance.”

It would have been reassuring to think he had taken the chance out of lust, succumbing to it as many humans do, but it was clear the previous evening that was not the case. They both had taken pleasure in the act, and did plan to do so again in the future, but Beelzebub doubted Gabriel lusted any more than they did. The absolute bellend was willing to risk damnation, or a significant tilt of the scale towards it, not for lust - but for them.

He wouldn’t have been willing to risk so much before. He was not, not even for Ba’al.

“We are not the beings we were then,” he had said, and he was right. Beelzebub was no longer the being that Archangel Gabriel had loved at the dawn of existence, before the War, before the Fall. They both had known that. Beelzebub hadn’t counted on the fact the utter imbecile would fall, figuratively, for the being they were now. Their plan had worked, only for them to realize they had never paused to wonder what they would do if it worked too well. 

Beelzebub groaned, pressing a hand against their eyes and leaning back their head against the throne’s headrest with a thunk. The most frustrating part was that they knew they were supposed to be very much pleased with that turn of events. Of course, something as undignified as falling in love was very much beneath a Prince of Hell and would make them a laughing stock if word came out, though very few would dare laugh to their face - but no one would need to know that sappy detail. They could very well pass it off as lust.

No one would bat an eye if Beelzebub claimed Gabriel’s soul after successfully winning it for Hell, made him a demon, and kept him by their side; the Prince of Hell took what they wanted without question, and wouldn’t be the first to keep close a mortal they were particularly proud of winning over for their cause. A former archangel, too - no one would question for a moment it was merely a matter of keeping a trophy. They’d be none the wiser; it could work out perfectly.

Except that there was a part of Beelzebub, the one that had forced them to pause the previous evening to warn Gabriel that what they were doing may count as a sin, that knew it would not. For all the chances Gabriel may be willing to take for them, up to and including eternal damnation, the Lord of the Flies knew with utmost certainty he would never be happy in Hell.

“Ridiculous,” they snapped at the empty room. “No one is happy in Hell. No one is meant to be. That is the point, that is… that…”

“Why rebel to the absolute authority of God to pass absolute the absolute authority of Satan?”

Gabriel’s question echoed in their mind, causing Beelzebub to scowl. What an idiotic question - what choice did they have? After God threw them in Hell for wanting a choice, they… they…

No. God cast us out, decreed we were not to return to Heaven; never that we were to stay here. 

The thought hit them like a blow, and the faint buzzing of the flies around them was silenced abruptly. It was true - how had they not seen it before? They were cast out of Heaven as humanity would later be cast out of Eden, but nothing else, despite the nonsense in the Bible about being committed to chains of gloomy darkness, whatever that was supposed to mean.

There was a universe out there they may have roamed as humanity roamed Earth, but they had not. Satan chose where to dwell, and they all had followed - the fallen angels who had rebelled to stop being followers. They had been divided up in ranks, they who had grown to resent the ranks among God’s angels, and when humanity was created they were ordered to corrupt them. They had obeyed, accepted that was to be their lot in existence until they gambled everything, again, to try and conquer the one place in all Creation they had been shut out of. 

They had made themselves into the opposite of all that God and his angels were, in all but one thing: after the Fall, after receiving new orders, they had not questioned again, either. 

“It was God’s Great Plan you were fulfilling,” Gabriel had said, and it was with utter annoyance and a fair dose of dread that Beelzebub admitted to themself that the idiot… had a point. Was Hell, all of what surrounded them now - the realm they were Prince of - anything like what they had thought their existence outside the suffocating order created by God would be? They had a far higher rank in it than they did in Heaven, but… that was the only difference. 

And if the War never happens, what then? No resolution, an eternity of corrupting mortal souls because we were told to six thousand years ago, according to a Plan we rebelled against in the first place? A Plan none of us really knows? Is that it, an eternity of this?

The questions circled in Beelzebub’s mind as many moths unable to find light, and in the stillness and silence of their throne room, there was no answer. 

Amongst the cracked certainties, however, there was one that did not waver: willing to risk his soul for them or not, disillusioned with Heaven or not and regardless of the high position Beelzebub could get him, Gabriel would be desperately miserable in Hell.

And Beelzebub, Prince of Hell and Lord of the Flies, found that was not something they would be able to handle.

***

“Well well well, look who’s in here. The supervisor.”

“The supervisor who’s been avoiding us the whole morning.”

“Clearly to avoid telling us how the evening went.”

With a chuckle, Gabriel looked up from his checklist to see Łukasz and Fabrizio standing at the door of the small room service as the supervisor’s office. Blocking the door, more accurately. “I have been busy, is all. I was avoiding no one.”

“Uh-huh. So, what’s the word?”

Gabriel’s smile widened. “It-- went quite well,” he said, and nearly dropped the clipboard when both of them released high, unholy screeches. Humans certainly did seem to express their approval in a very different way from the polite applause that was the norm in Haven.

“So, did you--”

“I will not get into details, if you don’t mind,” Gabriel cut Fabrizio off, leaning back against the seat. “But let’s say that this morning we have… parted in more amicable terms than last time.”

“Good! You owe us a pint each, then.”

“What? I cannot recall agreeing to--” Gabriel began, but they were both already gone, and he could hear their snickers as they walked back to their work stations. He rolled his eyes, still smiling, and focused on his work again. In the back of his mind there was a nagging question - did it count as a sin? Did it tip the scales? Where did his soul stand between Heaven and Hell? - but he decided that, if Beelzebub did not volunteer that information, he would not ask. 

Mortals didn’t get the luxury of always knowing which way their actions would tip the scales in the end, after all, and Gabriel felt more and more like he could handle that.

***

“You know what book you should have loaned him? The Malleus Maleficarum.”

Aziraphale - who had been trying rather hard to scrub all memory of the encounter from his brain - raised an eyebrow, took the cup of candied peanuts from the vendor and thanked her before he followed Crowley a few steps away down the sidewalk. “I believe you may be getting confused, dear. The Malleus Maleficarum is most certainly not a pornography book. Peanut?”

“I’m aware,” Crowley pointed out, and did take a candied peanut. He threw it up in the air and opened his mouth to catch it, only for it to bounce off his forehead and on the ground. Aziraphale politely pretended not to have noticed and just casually put the cup within Crowley’s reach again as they walked down the street towards the bookstore.

“Then why should I have loaned him that specific book?”

“It does contain descriptions of what to expect from carnal relations with demons.”

This time, Aziraphale eyed him with mild concern. He’d admittedly always skimmed over that part, but he recalled quite sordid details that simply could not be true… right? “Surely, all of that is nonsense,” he declared. To his relief, Crowley shrugged. 

“Of course it’s nonsense, I was blind drunk when Kramer interviewed me, he asked the weirdest questions - I had to come up with something. No one can say I’m not at my most creative when drunk. And that guy and his friend took everything so seriously, I would say it’s on him. ”

… Wait a moment. “You-- you mean to tell me, you were one of their sources to write the Malleus Maleficarum?”

“Purely by accident, I assure you - never thought it was going to be for a witch hunting manual - but yes. Would you like me to sign your copy?”

“It is a first edition. You may most certainly not sign it,” Aziraphale said over a mouthful of candied peanuts, still rather relieved to know everything in that book was, after all, nonsensical rubbish. “I suspect that had I given Gabriel that, he may have reconsidered his… plans.”

“For the sake of my sanity, I want to tell myself he did reconsider anyway.”

“So will I. Peanut?” he offered, holding out the cup again.

This time, Crowley managed to catch it in mid-air.

***

Gabriel was still trying to catch his breath when he noticed Aziraphale’s book on his nightstand.

He ought to return it, he thought distantly, only to be immediately distracted when Beelzebub settled across his back, chin pressed against the back of his shoulder. “I hope this will teach you not to steal my coffee in the future,” they said, and Gabriel let out a breathless laugh.

“If this is what happens when I take your coffee, I’ll do it more often,” he said, cheek pressed against the pillow; he was going to feel that in the morning, but didn’t mind at all. He waited for a retort, but there was only a hum, quiet breathing against his neck. “... Are you all right?”

“Of course I am.”

“Something’s on your mind.”

“There’s always something on my mind,” Beelzebub muttered, and tapped Gabriel’s head with a finger. “Unlike yours.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, too lost in the afterglow to realize Beelzebub had dodged the question. They didn't seem to be in a talkative mood that evening. Or rather, even less of a talkative mood than usual. “I do have something on my mind.”

“Oh? And what is it?”

I need to return that book, for one.

“Well,” he said instead. “Would you join me in London this weekend?”

***

“An answering machine, really who has those anymore-- hey, Brother Francis, it’s Warlock. Guess the store is closed? I tried looking up the opening times but it’s got no website or Facebook or whatever. It’s probably the only one left in the world without those. You should get a mobile phone too. Anyway, uh, I’ve got nothing to do this Sunday, so I was thinking I could hang in London. If you and Nann-- shit, I didn’t mean to say that.” A pause. “Yeah, uh, sorry I said shit. I mean, if Crowley is there too, uh, guess it wouldn’t suck to meet up. Or something. Just a thought. Whatever. I’ll call back.”

There was a click when the answering machine finished playing the message. Aziraphale glanced over at Crowley. “Well, what does Nanny Crowley think?”

“Nanny Crowley has no objections. What does Brother Aziraphale think?”

“Brother Aziraphale thinks the boy is up for a serious talk about his language this Sunday, and that Nanny Crowley will not interfere,” Aziraphale informed him. Crowley just grinned before snatching the last candied peanut from the cup he’d left on the table.

“I’ll do my best.”

***

“I will give you the keys of the kingdom of Heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in Heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in Heaven.” -- Matthew 16:19

***

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