#then went 'aight' and continued serving customers

[thegrimreaperisanerd]

On a lighter note somebody on A03 just dropped this comment on Chapter 15 of DUCKLINGS THAT DROWN with a fan comic???? They gave me permission to repost it here and I had to because I'm obsessed!

Dolores Dei in her waiting outfit? The black speech bubbles for (real) Kim contrasting the white, pure, *fake*, speech of dream Kim?? How they're all drawn in general???

THE GAME MENU AS THE DREAM ENDS AND HARRY WAKES UP ALONE IN THE DARK???

I have been looking at this for hours.

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 7

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER SEVEN

Lunch with Bucky was spent in a little Italian place right across the bar. It belonged to a seventy-year old Italian immigrant named Marco who invested in it with nothing but his savings when he first came to New York. Fifteen years later, his little dining place stood still through its ups and downs. In fact, business was getting stronger for Marco ever since the bar opened.  His target customers expanded from fellow immigrants to little boys who played soccer in the little league and finally to drunk bastards who wanted pizza in the middle of the night. He also started putting up a 24/7 sign and hired more people to work for him. Marco gave me a sympathetic smile as soon as he passed by you with a bottle of hot sauce he knew you liked.

"Where's the hunk?" His Italian accent never faltered. "Ditched ya?"

Lunch with Bucky was also cut short when he received a phone call from Leonard about an emergency in the White Wolf. "It's Leonard." He said. "Gotta get back to the hotel." Then you slipped in a tiny question, seeing a different phone on his hand: "Is that your phone? I thought you left it in your penthouse, that's why you crashed into our apartment."

"I borrowed Peter's old phone when we did our little fiancè act back there. Then I got my phone back after I ate all that food."

"And here you are again eating."

"Not anymore, I'm not." He chuckled, getting up from the chair and throwing his napkin gently on the table. "I gotta go, doll. Duty awaits. I'll see you around."

You were left there with two plates of pasta, one large pizza, and a hundred dollar bill that covered the whole meal. "Plus tip." Bucky then fled and hailed a cab. He gave you one last look and a small salute before getting inside then off he went.

"He had some business work to do." You replied. "Can I take these to-go please? Oh, and here." You handed Marco the hundred dollar bill and said something you have never said (not once!) in your entire life. "Keep the change."

Marco grinned, took the money and placed it inside his apron pockets. "Any chance you got four more of this?"

"Hey, that's with the tip already!" You playfully rolled your eyes and leaned back on the chair. "And you should ask the hunk that. Not me."

He started taking some plates off the table, his back a bit hunched as he did. "Who was that anyway? Finally replaced that old boyfriend of yours?"

"Old boyfriend? Marco, I'm single. Oh no, you're not at that stage now, are you?" It was meant as a joke but you did genuinely care for the old guy.

Marco stopped from picking up the plates and stood taller. "What ya talking 'bout?"

"You know," you whispered, "the forgetful stage."

"Oh fuck off." You earned a glare from him then continued to pick up the plates from the table before wiping it clean. A mother covered her three-year-old daughter's ears, with pasta noodles falling out of her mouth. She said something to Marco but was overpowered by his voice. A man in his 40's kept looking at you and Marco, probably wondering what the fuss was all about. "I'm still young!" He added. "And you know who I'm talking about. The guy you live with."

You scoffed and gave him an unbelievable look as you watched him clean, avoiding the stares people were starting to give. "That's not my boyfriend, Marco." You whispered.

"What? He's not?"

"He's my roommate." You took a sip of your bottled water. "We're roommates, nothing more."

"Well, good. I like the hunk better than that skinny roommate of yours." He bellowed laughing, holding his big, round belly. His voice echoed against the walls.

"Wait, so you thought Peter was my boyfriend this whole time?" You genuinely asked.

"Well, yeah! You were always together eating and whatnot. What was I supposed to think?"

You were supposed to argue with Marco that it was okay to be friends with someone of the opposite gender: to platonically hangout twenty-four seven, have pizza nights, movie nights, and all the things couples do but in a very platonic way. But Marco was an old man who stubbornly clung to his ancient beliefs. You didn't want to light a fire you and him. Besides, you were still on your way to earning his trust and getting a friend discount.

"Unbelievable." You mumbled, hoping he wouldn't hear it. Despite his old age, Marco still had the ears of a twenty-year old.

"You and me, both. All the time I was thinking to myself, you could do better!"

Oh, God. I know where this is going. You thought. "I'm not letting you set me up with your son, Marco."

"Why not?"

"Because he's old." You groaned, wishing he would just clear the table and just get it on with your to-go Italian food.

"So was that hunk you were with!"

Tired of all the back and forths, you sighed. "Marco, can't you just give me the food? I still have work to do."

"Yeah, yeah, aight. Don't nag me." Marco grunted. "You sounding like my ex-wife back there." His voice faded once he went back towards the counter, and started placing the food in the little to-go boxes.

Your phone on the table lit up. A text message from Peter asking you if you were still with Bucky. You replied back instantly that he went back to the White Wolf. You received no more messages from him after that.

A few seconds later, a figure approached and stopped right in front of you. You looked up and saw one of your friends who also did photography back in college.

"Wanda?"

Wanda flashed you that sweet smile of hers that reminded you of chocolates, rainbows, and unicorns.

"Aria! Wow, it's so nice to see you!" She crouched down to envelope you in a warm hug, then sat across from you, where Bucky was sitting a few minutes ago. She placed her small, shiny purse right on the table, her painted nails never letting it go. "I was just walking down the street and then saw you from the window. How are you? It's been quite long, huh?"

"Yeah, I'm doing good." Wanda could be such a Chatty Cathy. She was the kind of person that never let silence take over a room. If you memory served you right, you haven't seen each other since you graduated from college. She was a year younger than you and even though you stayed in New York the whole time, you never bothered to visit her at NYU Tisch during her last year. "How about you? How have you been doing?"

"I'm doing real good too! I actually set up my own studio a year ago in Manhattan after being a wedding photographer. I now photograph models, sometimes I do photowalks. I also hold photo exhibits from time to time." Unlike you, Wanda chose to follow her passion and majored in Photography and Imaging. "It's been really fun!"

Albeit feeling happy for her, a pang of jealousy struck you. You tried your best to ignore it and said: "That's great, Wanda. I'm so proud of you. You've come a long way since then."

She grinned. "I did, yeah. How about you? How's the business thing?"

You pursed your lips. "I'm actually juggling two jobs right now. I bartend at that bar over there," you pointed across the street, "and I also started a photography business." You continued. "I just do product photos for small businesses."

It was nothing big like Wanda's. Actually, it wasn't anything compared to her Manhattan studio and photowalks and photo exhibits. Nothing at all.

Her jaw dropped. Eyes wide. "Bartending? Wow! That doesn't sound like you at all!"

You chuckled then shook your head. "Who would've thought, huh? But it's pretty convenient and it pays half of my rent."

"You're still living with the Parker guy?"

"Actually, yes I still am." You replied. "But it's just the two of us now."

"Nothing more comforting than a familiar face around, huh?" She answered. "Oh hey, it's great you're still doing photography. I thought it was just a hobby of yours."

"I fell in love with it more during college, you know that."

Wanda just nodded her head in response then looked at her wrist watch. "Right. Well, this has been fun but I have a meeting to go to at some company who wants to talk about collaborations and stuff. You know the drill." She stood up from the chair, its legs scraping the wooden floors. "It was really nice to see you, Aria. I hope we can see each other again soon."

You mirrored her and stood up, reaching for a hug. "It's nice to see you too, Wanda." You let her go, then rambled. "I'm just in the bar if you ever wanna grab a drink or maybe coffee or lunch or anything, really."

"I will." She replied.

Before walking out, Wanda placed her hand on your shoulder, matched with a tight-lipped smile; like the gesture of someone towards a family member at one's funeral. Funnily enough, it was kind of appropriate. Your career in photography might as well be dead. You haven't received any work inquiry in over a month now, and some businesses have been rejecting your photography services. It was the classic "it's not you, it's me" scenario. They just found someone better.

With Wanda out of sight, you drained your thoughts and continued to stare at the moving cars on the streets. Getting you out of your trance was Marco tapping you on the shoulder.

"You alright there, kid?" He asked while handing you a plastic bag full.

"Yeah, sorry." You answered. "Just got distracted." You relieved him of your to-go food, grabbing it from his calloused hands.

"I know that kid you were talking to."

"Wanda?"

"Yeah, yeah. She photographed my son's wedding."

"The one you kept setting me up with?"

"Not that old bastard." He answered, frowning. "The younger, hotter one. With all the cheekbones and the eyes. Got them from me." Marco looked like a taller Danny DeVito. You doubted this "younger, hotter one" of his looked anything like Marco. "She also photographed my daughter's wedding."

"Jesus. How many children do you have?"

"Five." He chuckled. "I got some great swimmers."

You made a guttural sound and rolled your eyes. "Oh, God. Did not need to know that. Anyway, I gotta go. See you around, Marco." With that, you started to walk out and headed straight to the apartment.

There was nothing much to do once you got in the apartment besides putting the leftovers inside the fridge. The bar usually opened at four in the afternoon for happy hour so you took a short nap and was able to clear you head of all the things that happened overnight.

You woke up at about three in the afternoon and headed down the bar. By the time you got there, Nick was already inside, arranging the tables and chairs that were turned upside down.

"Hey, you got in early today." You greeted him as you approached the bar counter.

Nick looked up, hands still wrapped around a table. "Yeah well, I can't let you be employee of the month every single time."

"Living right above the bar does have some of its perks." You chuckled, grabbing an apron. "Need help with those?"

He answered no but his actions said otherwise. You jogged towards him and lifted the other side of the table, placing it on the floor without making much of a sound. You walked towards the other tables then started lifting one, praying to God you won't let it slip away from your arms but of course, you still had no luck on your side. Once Nick asked you that one question ("Do you want to go on a date with me?") you didn't want to hear, you dropped the table on your right foot. Bam! You stifled the sound of pain that itched your throat. Nick shuffled towards me and asked me if you were okay. You gently shrugged him off, telling him that it was nothing and that you you recently had a concussion less than twenty-four hours ago, this was absolutely nothing.

"You sure?" He asked. His hand gripped my waist, trying to maintain my balance.

"Yes, Nick." You straightened up and tried to stretch your right foot, checking if it was sprained or not. Thankfully, it was still good for running.

He let go of you then scratched the back of his head. His eyes focused on the wooden floors. "That was not a good time to ask that."

"I don't think there was ever a good time to ask that."

"Is that a no?"

Your mind recalled the conversation you and Peter had at the elevator: "Never dip the pen in company ink, right?"

Yes, it was easier to let him down easy with no one else around. You could also tell him you'll think about it but either way, you'd still be spending the remaining minutes in the bar with the fleeting awkwardness hanging in the air. But the silence was becoming heavier each second you weren't saying anything so you just shut your mind for a second and said: "Is it okay if I think about it first?"

"Yes. Sure. Of course!" He replied, finally meeting your eyes. "Just let me know. You know where to find me. Just here in the bar. 'Cause I work here."

"I know, Nick." You snickered. "I work here too."

"Right, right." He shook his head. "I'm just gonna..." He trailed off, pointing to the tables with his thumb.

"Yeah, I'll just..." You didn't know where else to go so you just made up an excuse. "I'll just be in the kitchen."

"What are you gonna do there?"

"I think there are still some shipments there? From earlier?" Lie. "I'll take care of them. Don't worry."

"O-okay."

And with that, you left Nick arranging tables and chairs while you headed towards the kitchen, sat on the floor and scrolled through different social media platforms before one of the cooks entered the kitchen. You ignored the befuddled look she gave you. It was the sign to  stand up and walk out of the kitchen. So you did.

Once Peter walked in the doors, you grabbed a bottle of beer and removed the bottle cap. You greeted him with a smile and placed his drink on the counter. "Hey, Parker. Guess what?"

"Hey, y/n." He smiled, sitting on the stool and placing his briefcase on the counter. He immediately grabbed the beer bottle and took his first sip. "Nick finally asked you out?"

"You don't know the rules to the 'Guess What' game, do you?"

"Oh, I know the rules." He replied. "I'm just a born rule breaker. So," he stared at his beer bottle scratching the sticker with his thumbs, "did you say yes?"

"I told him I'll think about it."

"And you've thought about it?"

"Yes."

"...and?"

"I'm gonna tell him no." You walked away from Peter, pouring beer from the beer tap into a beer mug for one of the regulars who just walked in. "It's kind of hard to work with someone you're dating or you've dated. I mean, you learned that the hard way, right?"

Peter groaned, reminiscing the time he dated his co-worker, a certain Denise, for six months, stringing her along for a couple more before dumping her. He couldn't even begin to describe how much hatred Denise had for Peter. One night, you found Peter on the rooftop, writing his resignation letter. Of course, you had to throw it after sneaking up on him behind his back. Apparently, Peter couldn't take any more of Denise's death stares during meetings, lunch breaks, and any time she was around Peter. Luckily, Denise got fired the next day for some legal dispute. Peter drank his whole night away that very day and you ended up taking care of him. The next day, you told him everything he'd done that night except one thing: trying to kiss you.

"Hey," Peter hissed, "here he comes. Good luck." He swiftly left his briefcase and beer bottle on the counter, hurrying his way towards the toilet.

You gave Nick a small smile once he opened the counter pass-through. "Nick. Hi."

"Y/n. Hi!"

"So, about the thing earlier -- "

"Can I get a beer?" Interrupted a man on your left side but you couldn't care less. You put up your hand in front of his face. "In a mug!"

Before you could even say "I'm sorry, Nick, but I can't date a co-worker. It's just not right. But you're great. Not just with me" the man shooed your hand away. "Hey! The hell is this?"

You groaned. "You'll get your beer in just one moment, okay?"

The man huffed and left the counter then sat on a nearby table, flipping me off. You rolled your eyes at him and brought your attention back to Nick who was still waiting for your answer. While halfway through your short speech you have been preparing in your head, he interrupted with a: "Yeah, yeah, I know where this is going. It's fine. It's alright. I understand. I'll let you get back to work."

He started turning around but you immediately stopped him. "So this is okay, right? No weird tension between us, or something like that?"

He nodded his head and sent you a warm smile. "Yeah, everything's good. At least I tried, y'know. I'll, uh, see ya around 'cause y'know -- "

"You work here, yeah."

"Yeah. Well... " And with that, he treaded away towards the pass-through and approached some newcomers.

The man from earlier was still staring at you so you went ahead and opened the beer tap. Before the liquid even reached the top of the mug, a hand laid on top of the tap handle and turned the tap off.

"Now," Bucky's voice rang inside your ears, "how about you make me a mean drink, doll?"

[centerofreality]

Doya, BB-chan? remember your Kiryu with Kiryu-Fan after him? it's hilarious! I love it! Can you do a Majima version? This time have Nishitani and a Majima-fanatic after him? gotta have Majima get a taste of his own medicine [you don't need to prioritized this requests, take your time, please]🧡 thank you

You had a crush on Goro Majima for so long that you’ve become his one and only fan. You knew so much yet so little. Even with your infatuation, you didn’t know how to express your feelings to the mysterious eye-patched man working at the Grand Cabaret. Nishitani, being the kindhearted man he was, decided to lend a hand in one of the many ways he knew how. Being competitive. 

UHHHHHHH- 70+ FOLLOWERS???!! YOU ALL ARE WILD!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I know I’m not active here as much but I’m grateful for all of your support!! Modules are really taking most of my time so I never got around to Tumblr. As a gift, I took the chance on what anon requested me and decided to make a oneshot! I’m not good at writing stories but hopefully, I can make it work!

Reader will be more feminine here but I will be writing they/them pronouns. Sorry about that!

Includes: Nishitani flirting with both Y/N and Majima because he has no shame, Suggestive Themes (because Nishitani), Cursing and Explicit Language, Fluff and semi-crack? Me not knowing how to write a story.

                                                  ============ 

“How old are ya again, Y/N-chan? Majima-chan is an old man, ya know.” “At least he looks like he’s actually in his 20′s, unlike you.” “I look younger than I look!”

You sigh and look at the man sitting across from you. Nishitani only had a smirk as he bounces his legs, a hostess sitting beside him and serving the both of you. “Are you here to annoy Majima-san again?” You ask him with your eyebrows raised.

“Of course!” Typical.

You, Y/N L/N, were friends with the horny criminal, Homare Nishitani. People didn’t know how or why you were friends with him, and truth be told, you didn’t know either. He had suddenly approached you one day and asked if you ‘had the hots for Majima-kun too.’, and that the both of you go to the Cabaret Grand to annoy him. He was wild and didn’t care if he was being loud. You thought he was going to throw you in the river when you had rejected his advances of ‘leaving Majima-kun and have fun at my place’ but surprisingly, you stayed alive and have been friends ever since.

One of the perks of being with Nishitani was-

“Heyyyy, Majima-kun!!!” Nishitani waves maniacally to the approaching man who looked less than pleased, even if he had a polite smile.

Yep, Nishitani’s perks were that you get basically free access to the Grand. You always spend your money on this place and even then, Majima doesn’t really show up much.

“Nishitani-san.” Majima’s face was stoic as ever but when he turned to you, his eyes got softer and he even let a small smile appear on his face as he bowed politely. “L/N-san. Thank you for coming to our establishment again today.” Had you not been anywhere but around Majima, you would have screamed at the top of your lungs. Instead, you internally squealed and bowed your head. “G-good work again, Majima-san!!”

“I’m the one paying ‘ere, ‘ya know!” Nishitani rolled his eyes before he looked at Majima, “How lucky are we though that we have the famous manager himself to attend to our table!”

“You are not harassing any of our hostesses here, I presume. I wanted to check if my guess was right.” Your eyes widened and you glare at Nishitani, “Harass?!?! Nishitani!!” The man immediately held his hands up and sat a few inches away from the hostess that he was so close with, “I ain’t doin’ nothin’!! My hands are clean!”

Majima watches the both of you interact, he was confused about why the two of you were friends to begin with. No, he wasn’t jealous that the two of you were always together, and even if you were a couple - which he could hardly believe - it wasn’t his business to know. 

“It’s all good, manager!” One of his girls said with a smile and he nodded, “I’ll be going then, please continue to enjoy your stay here.” You let out a dreamy sigh as he walked away.

“Majima-kun would ace being in a maid cafe. With the frilly dress and the cat ears and everything, that’d get me rock hard on the spot.” Nishitani randomly said, picking his ears with his pinkie as the hostess giggled at your red face, “L/N-san, do you perhaps...” “Have a mad infatuation with the guy? Hell yeah, they are.” You only looked away bashful. Were you really that obvious??

“I have a feeling Majima-san likes you back too! He treats you as his favorite customer as much as I know!” “Doesn’t he do that to all customers?” You meekly asked, watching her think and shrug. “I think he’s much more genuine to you than anyone else.”

“Not even me?” Nishitani pouted while you look at the large signs of Cabaret Grand with wide eyes. Really?? Majima...likes you back? You shake your head. No, you shouldn’t hope. There weren’t any chances that you and Majima would end up together anyway.

“Ahh, look how fucking in love they are. Why can’t I have that? I’m a handsome looking guy.” Nishitani asked, leaning back on the soft cushions of the seats as the hostess poured him another drink. “It isn’t just about looks, it’s like..it’s like, he may look intimidating but I know he has a good heart. He’s kind and respectful and I admire him a lot..” You ranted before you grab the glass of juice (because Nishitani took all the alcohol, as much as he wanted to see you drunk on broad daylight) and drank it in one go. Nishitani whistles.

“Why don’t you confess to him then? It’s worth a try, right?” The hostess suggested, pouring your glass. “What if he rejects me? I wouldn’t be able to go here again because of the embarrassment!” You cover your face and groan, dragging your hands down while Nishitani laughed at your pitiful state. “Stop laughing! It’s not funny!” “It’s a little funny!”

You look at your phone and seeing the time that’s passed, you curse under your breath and quickly finish your glass, standing up. “Eh? Going already, sweetcheeks?” Nishitani tilted his head. “Yeah, I still have work to do. I’ll be back again tomorrow!” You wave at him and the hostess who waved back as you left.

“Those two need to get a room, I’m getting blue balls just by watching them.” Nishitani groans before he pauses... then he smirks. He had just the idea.

The next day, you went to the VIP and paused, watching Nishitani flirt with a disinterested Majima. As soon as his eye had spotted you, it lit up as he bowed at you, jerking his hands away from a sulking Nishitani. “Hello again, L/N-san. VIP again?” He approached you as you played with your fingers, grinning. “A-ah, y-yeah! Here to support you and everyone else here as always!” You thanked the heavens that your voice didn’t crack as Majima smiled, “You have my utmost gratitude.”

You watched him walk past you, smelling a whiff of his cologne. You immediately sat next to Nishitani and squealed on his shoulder. “Watch the merchandise!” Even with Nishitani’s protest, he let you be.

“Even he smells good!” You shake him as he tried to balance his glass. “Guy’s stubborn as hell. Wouldn’t take my offer.” You stopped moving him around and looked up at him. “What offer?” “Just me and him on a date, no biggie.” He shrugged.

“A-a-a da-date?!?!” You exclaim and hide back when a few people in the VIP glanced at the both of you, only to look away, seeing Nishitani. “Are you serious?!” You whispered to the giggling man.

“Look, we didn’t make the fucking Majima Fanclub for nothing, aight?” The Majima Fanclub consisted of You, Nishitani, and his family who were just there because their boss told them to. 

“If you’re not going to ask him then I’m going to take my chance. Finders Keepers.” He stuck his tongue out at you as you looked almost betrayed. Somehow, that made you fired up and more confident. You were going to beat Nishitani and confess to him! 

“W-well, I’m going to ask him on a date too!” “Oho, you’re challenging me?” Nishitani leaned forward, a competitive glint in his eyes. “Exactly, Whoever gets accepted first is the winner.” You told him, head up and straight posture. He laughed, “I like your words, darling.”

It had taken you several hours to brainstorm. But you had finally thought of something..

--

“Out of all the things, you pick Letters?? Boooooring.” “Have any ideas, smart guy?” You rolled your eyes at Nishitani who was lazily drawing scribbles on a piece of paper, his glass of alcohol showing a mark on his paper. “Ah, shit- fuck-” He cursed, having broken yet another crayon.

“I told you, you should have picked the markers instead.” You shake your head, laughing a little. The two of you were at one of the most popular Cabarets in Sotenbori yet the two of you were writing and drawing love letters.

“Why did you pick letters anyway?” The man beside you asked, cutting a choppy heart with a piece of paper. “Letters are a lot more genuine than gifts, you know? It’s heartfelt and simple, but means a lot to both you and to the one you’re sending it to.” You smile and Nishitani stifled his laughter, “Are you still in high school? That sounds so fucking cheesy, I love it.” You tried your best to make yours look neat but due to how nervous you were, the handwriting ended up a little messy. “You send it to him!” You exclaim, shoving the folded note. “Like hell I am!” Nishitani moved back and called for a hostess who so happened to be the same hostess from before.

“Is your manager available right now, pretty lady?” “Yes, actually. He’s at the rooftop and taking a break. Is there anything you need from him?” The hostess answered and blinked when the both of you handed your letters to her. “Can you give us a favor and give ‘im these? You can throw Y/N’s in the trash.” “No, you throw his in the trash!” The hostess grinned and shakes her head before taking them. “I’ll give these to him then, I’ll be back.”

As you waited patiently, playing with your glass, you thought if your letter was good enough. Nishitani looked pretty confident and to be honest? You were starting to lose the fire in you. This was a bad idea. You would just make a fool out of yourself to the guy you like!

“Nishitani, I shouldn’t have given away that letter.” You only got a smack on the back of your head as Nishitani groaned, retreating his hand away, “You dumbass. This was your idea. You gotta suck it up and own up to it.” “That’s not a good thing to say to your friend.” You pout as you rub your head. 

“Still, I don’t think he’ll even look at mine.” The yakuza sighs and pours himself a glass. “If he does, I’ll beat him up. There, does that make you feel better?” “That would just make me feel worse!” You scold but you had a smile on your face, making Nishitani grin, showing his slightly sharp teeth.

A few minutes later, the hostess came back, and much to your surprise, Majima was with her. He looked almost bored as the hostess pulled him in front the both of you. “I wanted Majima-san to personally give them to you!” Majima sighs and watched you sheepishly apologize before he handed back your letters. “Thanks so much, Majima-san!” The hostess looked delighted as the man quickly walked away to another table, almost flustered.

“He’s gonna love my drawing! I’m gonna keep this forever!” Nishitani cackles before he opened his letter with a grin. You then took a deep breath and opened yours, seeing if he said something too.

To Majima-san,

I know that I’m just a customer but I want to say that I like you and I admire you a lot. I have been for a long time, and only now did I got the courage to express my feelings. At first, I thought it was a simple crush but as time passed by, that feeling never went away. In fact, I think I like you a lot more now. Would you mind going out with me at Osaka King sometime?  I completely understand if you don’t like me back and if you don’t want to go out, no matter what happens, I will continue to support you and the staff here in Cabaret Grand as your loyal customer!

“Ah man, he only gave a note about how I sucked at drawing him! That asshole!” Nishitani grumbled, “What about you?” He looked at you only to see that you were practically frozen in your position, staring at the letter with wide eyes. “What?” He blinked and went for a peek. “He said yes..” You gape and cover your mouth, letting him read it as you were too speechless to even do anything.

             -L/N Y/N

Sure, I would love to. What does 10 am tomorrow sound like? : )                                                   - Goro Majima

“The fucker actually did it,” Nishitani mumbled and you looked around for Majima, seeing that he was still in the VIP room. Like he had known you were looking for him, he turned around and the two of you made eye contact. You beamed at him and he smiled, chuckling a bit before he went on his way. You were breathless, holding your cheeks together with bright eyes and a lovestruck smile.

That was a date.

[adorablele]

we’re just friends; l.dh

hello!!! can i request an imagine with haechan kinda like they were best friends in the past and then after a long time they meet each other again and he finds you really pretty? love all your writings!!!!! 💗💘💞💕 

↬ pairing; lee donghyuck x female!reader

↬  genre; fluff,, angst 

↬ word count; 3.5k+ (my longest fic yet pls don’t flop)

↬ summary; he put the wrong label on your friendship, just like how the grocery store labeled the aisle incorrectly.

↬ a/n; I thought the photo of hyuck was very nice which was why I used it as a header, but if anyone would like to make a header for this fic, I’ll give you virtual hugs <3 also, this is the FIRST TIME I’m writing an angsty ending so feedback is appreciated :)))) 

“excuse me.” someone tapped him on the shoulder.

seven year old donghyuck turned around, quizzically looking at you, “what?”

you made a face at his response. “you need to go to the back of the line,” your tone matched his.

“why?” he immediately asked, eyes boring into yours.

you stared back. “‘cause I was here first.”

“who says?” 

“I say!” you retorted, crossing your arms.

he snorted, “I was clearly here first, that’s why you’re standing behind me.”

you glared at the boy, “what are you a pig?”

he opened his mouth, but you cut him off, “and, the first person stands on the line. you’re in front of it, so I’m first.”

the clearing of a throat interrupted your argument. the two of you looked at the class know-it-all. 

“you guys are both wrong, I’m first.”

“who says?” both you and donghyuck asked.

having caused such a ruckus, the teacher booted the two of you to the back of the line. with a glare aimed at the smug little girl, the both of you followed the teacher’s instruction. 

on his way back, donghyuck spotted his friends, giving them a smile. they high-fived and allowed him to stand in front of them in line. you frowned at him, reminding him that ‘you can’t cut,’ before dutifully continuing your lonesome journey to the back of the line. donghyuck chuckled at your sulkily hung head and told his friends to save two spots at the lunch table. 

“she’s so annoying,” you mumbled, kicking the nonexistent pebbles on the floor, “she thinks she knows everything.”

“I know right,” the boy agreed, eyebrows raising when you jumped.

upon realizing it was him, your gaze went back down to the floor, “I thought you were up there with your friends.”

“the teacher told me to get to the back of the line,” he lied.

you looked at him for a moment. he simply looked back. you pursed your lips, crossing your arms and turning your head, chin up and away from him, “serves you right!” you then proceeded to march away, following the moving line. 

not hearing his footsteps, you peeked behind you. you sighed and fully turned around, placing a hand on your hip.

“are you coming?”

“it’s supposed to be there, not their,” he mumbled to you, reading over your shoulder.

“I’ll fix it when I revise and edit,” you dismissed, continuing to write your draft.

“there’s not supposed to be a comma after you,” he pointed out.

“again, I’ll just fix it when I’m editing,” you told him, thoughts halting because of the boy.

“you know-”

“oh my god, hyuck! just give me these comments when we peer review on thursday!” you exclaimed, glaring at the smirking 10 year old.

“don’t use the lord’s name in vain,” he tsked.

“how cute,” the waitress cooed, setting down the drinks on the table, “are you guys studying together?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you muttered, annoyance laced in your voice.

the waitress arched a brow, leaning closer to donghyuck. “you like her, don’t you?” she loudly whispered.

he looked at her like she was crazy, not noticing the way your hand froze once the question was asked. “we’re just friends.”

with a slow nod, the waitress looked over at you. she chuckled when you quickly looked down at your paper. “whatever you say,” she shrugged, leaving to go serve other customers in the busy diner.

“what if we drift apart?” you sighed, sipping your juice box as he ate his sandwich on the picnic blanket.

we laughed, ‘we von’t brif abarph.”

you frowned at the boy, “chew your food.”

after a minute of silence, he spoke again. “we won’t drift apart.”

you didn’t say anything. he peered over at you, the loud slurping of the juice box catching his attention.

“I think it’s empty,” he commented, taking another bite of his sandwich. 

you pushed his shoulder, “hyuck, be serious! some friend drift away in middle school.”

he rubbed his shoulder, the crushed juice box gripped tightly in your hand. he sighed and leaned back. “life can’t tear us apart,” he looked up at the sky, “and even if they try, I won’t let you go so easily.”

he grinned at you, the muscles moving automatically upon seeing your sparkly gaze on him, “I mean, who else am I supposed to copy answers from?”

you rolled your eyes, “what are friends for, I guess.”

“you are not going to leave me to ride the bus alone on the first day of school!” 

donghyuck chuckled at the threat you told him the night before, the words somehow motivating him to get out of bed despite how much his blankets begged him to come back. when he arrived at the bus stop, you were pacing back and forth, eyes frantically looking around.

“the bus doesn’t arrive for another-” 

“where have you been?” you cried, hugging him, “I thought I was going to be alone!”

“well, I’m here,” he laughed, patting you on the back reassuringly, “still sleepy, but here nonetheless.”

he listened as you rambled away, nerves floating through your words as the two of you waited for the bus to arrive. you were silent when the bus parked in front of the two of you. he gestured for you to walk in first, and you did, planting down in the window seat. donghyuck yawned, slumping into the seat next to you. he didn’t waste any time, plopping his backpack on the floor next to yours as he leaned his head against your shoulder. 

he quietly counted to himself, hoping that he’ll help him fall back asleep. when he got to thirty, he felt your fingers brush through his hair. it caught him off guard, but eventually, he relaxed, continuing to count to sixty before he left to dreamland.

somewhere along the way, he stopped counting. he didn’t need to count, simply waiting until you played with his hair for him to feel relaxed enough to sleep. 

“hey, are you two dating?” a brown haired boy asked one morning. donghyuck recognized him, the guy sat two seats behind the bus driver. he believed his name had min in it or something.

however, donghyuck didn’t think much about the boy’s name, choosing to laugh at his question instead. you joined in not a second later. donghyuck stared at the boy like he was the funniest person in the world. 

“we’re just friends.”

the guy’s eyes flickered between the two of you suspiciously before he shrugged, “right okay.”

“hey jeno,” he called out waving over to his friend who was actively ignoring him, “jeno, come here! they’re not dating!”

jeno glared at his friend, quickly walking over to him, “why does that matter?” 

“because you-” jeno interrupted his friend, sending an apologetic glance at you and donghyuck, “sorry about jaemin, he’s stupid sometimes.”

you waved him off and gave a nod towards donghyuck. “it’s okay, stupid is his middle name.”

donghyuck gave you a side-eye, “I’m not the one who used soap as toothpaste this morning.”

“they’re both green!” you defended.

jeno and jaemin were easily forgotten, left to watch the two of you bicker away. 

jaemin snickered in jeno’s ear, “we’re just friends, they say.”

“I know you have it!” renjun yelled, keeping jaemin in a headlock.

“renjun, let jaemin go,” you sighed, setting down your lunch on the table.

“so abusive,” jaemin weeped, clinging onto you once he was out of renjun’s deadly arms.

“we don’t know if he was the one who took your moomin plushie, so calm down,” you told him. however, your words went to waste when jaemin stuck his tongue out at renjun, triggering the boy to lunge at him. you looked over at jeno, hoping he’d stop the fight, but jeno remained unbothered, finishing whatever he was writing. 

donghyuck silently sat there, the moonmin plushie hidden in his backpack. he went by unnoticed, his plan succeeding. a subtle, sly smirk rested on his lips, one that no one noticed. no one, but you. 

“hyuck,” you called out.

“yeah,” he smiled, feigning an innocent look.

“where’d you hide it?”

“hide what?” he asked, tilting his head.

you gave him a pointed look to which he responded with a shrug, “why are you- hey!”

renjun grabbed donghyuck’s backpack, digging through it like there’s no tomorrow. he lifted the plushie out of the bag, lips lined straight.

“aight, imma head out,” donghyuck coughed, bolting out of the lunch room.

“you’re so dead!” renjun screamed chasing after his friend.

donghyuck slumped against the wall, trying to catch his breath. he was almost successful in framing jaemin for his mischievous act, keyword being almost. he shook his head, your careful eyes popping into his mind.

of course you figured it out, you always did.

“well, we have a month,” jaemin smiled.

“yeah, why don’t we start planning?” jeno suggested.

renjun pulled out his notebook, labeling the page as ‘donghyuck’s a coward - things to do so he’ll pee himself’. And while the three of them were busy brainstorming activities for the group to do before he left, donghyuck couldn’t help but focus on you. 

you were silent, mouth sewn shut ever since he dropped the news. you wouldn’t look at him, and after a few minutes of picking at your food, you excused yourself. he trailed after you, spotting you in a squatted position in the field.

“life can’t tear us apart, huh?” you laughed, plucking the dandelion from the ground. 

he squatted down next to you, staring at the dandelion twirling in your hand. 

“that’s still true.”

“you’re moving, hyuck.” your voice was soft, almost blending in with the whistles of the wind. you crushed the dandelion pedals, the tears starting to prick in your eyes.

he lifted your chin to look up at him. he wiped away the tears, cupping your face. 

“hey, hey, you’re going to be fine! you’ve got jeno, jaemin and renjun by your side,” he reassured.

donghyuck pulled you into a hug, the pedals in your hand drifting away in the slight breeze. he watched them slowly land a few feet away from the picnic blanket. his grip tightened, your tears streaming down your face.

“I won’t let you go so easily,” he promised. 

donghyuck wished he stuck to those words, but here he was, five years later, with zero attempts to contact you. he touched the chain around his neck, fingers trailing down to the jewel with your birthday engraved in it. 

(“you never remember my birthday,” you pouted, “so here’s your reminder!”)

subconsciously, he started to rub it, the fleeting thought that this could magically summon you passed through his mind. he shook his head, ignoring all the unpacked boxes surrounding him and deciding that it was a nice day to go walking.

following the familiar tune, donghyuck walked until he spotted the ice cream truck nearby. just as he was about to stand behind the line, a person cut in front of him. he blinked, shocked that someone, presumably an adult, would cut in front of him for some ice cream. what shocked him more was this unsettling feeling that this girl looked like you. 

“excuse me,” he said, tapping the person on the shoulder.

donghyuck couldn’t believe his eyes, even when he recognized that scar on your eyebrow from when he dared you to jump off the swing, teasing you that you didn’t have the guts.

(“you’re bleeding!” he cried, tears effortlessly falling down his face as you cried along with him.)

if he wasn’t so close, he wouldn’t have been able to see it. 

“yes?” you asked, tone way politer than it was back in first grade.

donghyuck almost forgot why he even approached you, distracted by how the sun created a halo around you. his heart sped up, maybe you weren’t y/n. he didn’t remember you looking this pretty.

“you need to go to the back of the line,” he finally said.

you furrowed your brows, head tilting. “why…” your voice trailed off, a hint in your voice saying that your question wasn’t applying to what he just said.

he grinned seeing the gears turning in your head. “‘cause I was here first.”

if possible, the sun shone brighter, acting as the lightbulb that went off in your head.

“donghyuck?” 

“are you sure you’re free today?” he asked, eyeing the basket in your hand.

you nodded, “yeah. I was planning to enjoy this meal in the park since it’s such a nice day out today.”

“by yourself?” he asked, raising a brow.

“can’t tell if you’re judging me, but yes, by myself.”

“I’m not,” he paused, “intruding on a date with yourself?”

you stopped walking, turning to look to your left like someone was there, “hey y/n, are you okay with this?”

you stepped to the left, looking to your right, “yeah, I’m good, what about you?”

stepping back to the right, you frowned to your left, “I don’t know.” you looked back at donghyuck’s amused eyes, “he hasn’t contacted us in five years, should he really eat lunch with us?”

for the last time, you stepped to the left, “just don’t give him the cake.”

with a nod, you stepped in front of donghyuck, “myself and I think it’s okay.”

“lee donghyuck!” three boys shouted, attracting the attention of the people trying to enjoy a peaceful day at the park.

his eyes widened, looking over at your cheeky smile. 

“maybe I lied,” you giggled. 

and before he could think about the butterflies that erupted in his stomach when he heard the sound, the aforementioned three boys attacked him with slaps on the backs, words overlapping each other. 

“where have you been?”

“you do have a phone, right?”

“why are you avoiding us?”

“did you move back here?”

“are you visiting?”

“guys!” you yelled, catching the attention of the boys, “whoever’s barbecuing might want to check on the food, it’s smelling a bit burnt.”

“and-” you interrupted yourself, laughing at the untold story.

donghyuck didn’t mind, he was busy processing the noise, still not used to the fluttering in his stomach. your laugh resonated in his ears and harmonized with the chirps of the birds. it left him with a stomach full of giddiness.

“it would help if you finished your story,” renjun pointed out, taking a bite of his food.

you waved him off, “I will, I will!”

you continued your tale, recounting countless shenanigans that he missed in the past five years like when jaemin got bombarded with pom poms because he accidentally walked into the girl’s locker room.

(“I guess that’s one way to get their attention,” you laughed.

“it was my first week there! how was I supposed to know they were lying to me?”

“maybe read the signs?” renjun suggested.)

or when jeno had to reject a guy because he slipped a confession letter into the wrong locker. 

(“what a heartbreaker,” jaemin tsked, receiving a glare from jeno. 

“the letter didn’t even have his name on the paper!”)

or when renjun almost blew up the school during chemistry because he refused to listen to his lab partner. 

(“he wanted to impress her,” jeno commented.

“spoiler alert, it failed,” you added.

“she thought I was dumb,” renjun frowned.)

or when you tackled a random stranger, thinking he was the one who pranked you.

“he’s my boyfriend, now.”

did he mishear that?

“right now,” you pouted, plushed  beautifully under the sun’s rays, “he’s abroad in europe.”

“he’ll be back in two days, don’t worry,” jaemin reassured you, patting you on the back.

your eyes held all the stars in the galaxy when you talked about pandas, your favorite animal, and donghyuck thought that that was the only time your eyes would ever put the stars to shame. 

he was wrong.

as you were spewing out stories about your boyfriend, your eyes made him think that he was looking through a telescope, staring up at the night sky. you held a shy smile, melting donghyuck’s heart to mush. 

but then those words echoed in his mind. 

he’s my boyfriend.

they swirled in his mind, traveling down his spine and coiling around his heart like a snake. it crushed him, leaving a pool of disappointment in his chest. he shouldn’t be disappointed.

he looked at your practically glowing figure. your cheeks were faint with red, your lips softer than the blanket on your lap, your hands looking too heavy for you to hold, but you weren’t his. 

“we’re just friends,” he breathed out, words blending with the wind. they were heavier than he remembered, bitter as he let it rest on his tongue. thankfully, no one heard him. except you, of course.

“did you say something?” you asked him, almost swearing that you saw his mouth move.

he blinked, “what?”

you furrowed your brows, “nothing, I thought you had something to say.”

donghyuck shook his head, heart palpitating with your eyes intensely analyzing him. he took a bite of his food, hoping that you wouldn’t bother him now that he was occupied with chewing. and you did, dropping the topic and continuing on about the adventures you had with jeno, jaemin, renjun and- he doesn’t know your boyfriend’s name. 

he scoffed silently to himself, he’ll find out later. he’s bound to hear the guy’s name again, anyway.

donghyuck found it funny how he left the picnic early to get his mind off of you, yet here he was, strolling behind you with the shopping cart filled with various junk foods. it was almost two in the morning, but he couldn’t say no to you, not when he could practically see your cute pout through the phone. 

you hopped on the colored tiles scattered on the floor, humming along to some tune playing in your head. your eyes roamed over the sweet treats on the shelves, and he chuckled when you pointed out that the aisle was labeled as spices. donghyuck thought it was unfair that you seemed to shine no matter the time of day, even under the dimly lit grocery store lamps. he sighed, especially under the dimly lit grocery store lamps.

with a gasp, you grabbed a box of cookies from the shelf, waving them in his face. “it’s your favorite cookies!” you teased.

he hated those cookies. 

“actually, I’m already going with someone to the dance.”

the girl shook her head, pushing the cookies back to him, “who-”

“you got me cookies?” you squealed, appearing out of nowhere and taking the box of cookies from him.

“actually-” his admirer started, trying to take back the gift from you.

you ignored the girl, ripping opening the box and stuffing one in your mouth.

“thanks hyuck!”

“is she the one your taking to the dance?” the other girl sneered, looking at you with a glare.

he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, smiling fondly at you as you giddily ate the cookies you knew he didn’t like. “well yeah, she’s my girl friend.” 

and you looked at him with a mouth full of cookies and cheeks flushed red. you nodded, “yep, he’s my boyfriend.”

he chuckled, his thumb wiping away the crumbs on your face. “you’re not going to leave any cookies for me?” he teased.

while he meant for the label to be platonic (simply a girl who’s a friend), donghyuck knew that his classmate took it romantically. and he almost went along with it, but when jaemin asked him if the two of you were finally dating, he laughed it off. ‘we’re just friends.’ he ignored the discontent in his stomach and how empty it felt when you shrugged off his arm.

regret clouded his mind, forcing another memory into his brain.

“my family is waiting for me in the car,” donghyuck chuckled, your arms locked in place.

“let them wait,” you frowned, words muffled by his shirt.

“I got to get going.”

your grip tightened and you told him three words that he acted like he didn’t hear.

“I love you,” he blurted.

your smile dropped, along with your arms. you stared at him with confused eyes and backed up three steps.

“remember when that girl told me that?” he quickly added, the seed of regret growing, continuously gnawing away at his heart with each second that passed by, “she made a banner and everything.”

silence.

you could see through him, you always did. that made his heart pound even more. you were just staring at him.

“I have a boyfriend.” your voice was level despite the wavering in your eyes and the tense scrunch of your shoulders. 

he swallowed, hesitant to speak. “I know.”

donghyuck clenched his jaw, he knew that. he didn’t need another reminder that he was too late. he didn’t need another reminder that he should’ve confessed to you before he left. he didn’t need another reminder that you moved on. 

“I...I have to go.”

you left him there, surrounded by boxes of sweet snacks in an aisle labeled as spices. 

[ofhellsbells]

@ofcupidslove​

The 21 Club, often simply 21, is an American traditional cuisine restaurant and former prohibition-era speakeasy, located at 21 West 52nd Street in New York City. The Bar Room includes a restaurant, a lounge and, as the name implies, a bar. The walls and ceiling of the Bar Room are covered with antique toys and sports memorabilia donated by famous patrons. The best known feature of 21 is the line of painted cast iron lawn jockey statues which adorns the balcony above the entrance. In the 1930s, some of the affluent customers of the bar began to show their appreciation by presenting 21 with jockeys painted to represent the racing colors of the stables they owned. There are 33 jockeys on the exterior of the building, and 2 more inside the doors.

‘21’ Club debuted America's original gourmet hamburger in 1950. It was cooked in duck fat, spiked with fennel seeds, and sold for a whopping $2.75 in an era of five- and 10-cent hamburgers. In dollar-adjusted value, that price is equivalent to over $25. The price today is $36, although the preparation has changed significantly — the current version of the ‘21’ Burger is closer to a classic hamburger, with a pickled relish and served on a brioche bun with fries on the side.

Belphegor had chosen this location (through Dean’s aid) because it served one of the best burgers in New York City while also being fancy enough that it might actually seem worthy of her. They rented out the whole restaurant for their date with Cupid, though that wasn’t to say that the rest of the restaurant would be empty. In fact, they made sure the whole restaurant would be full of loving couples. With Chastity’s help, they conducted numerous interviews with thousands of couples to make sure the restaurant would be full of only the most loving couples, so Cupid could be surrounded with a large amount of love and energy. After she finished breaking Lucifer and Levi’s curses, they imagined she would need something uplifting like that to energize her.

Once the restaurant owners understood what Belphegor was trying to do (and with a significant sum of money), they allowed Belphegor to decorate the restaurant however Belphegor wanted to. They planned out a design with Chastity’s help, but ultimately, most of the work was done by Belphegor themself. At the table Belphegor had designated as the one for their date, there were four chairs. In one of the chairs was a giant stuffed animals sloth, and in the chair opposite to it, there was a giant stack of boxes of chocolates. They put Cupid’s favorite flowers on all of the tables. Chastity had helped with that part. The flowers were actually from Cupid’s shop, but Chastity had told her that they were for a wedding. She’d even invented a pretend couple with pretend personalities to make the ruse more believable, ensuring Belphegor that Cupid had no idea the flowers were for her gift. There was one additional bouquet that Belphegor picked out themself for their table in particular. It wasn’t as cleanly or beautifully designed as the other flower arrangements, but they’d wanted to try their own hand at it too to show how much they were willing to do for her. They hung up decorations, and they cleared out some tables to make some room for a small dance floor and a stage for a band. They invited Snoop Dog, since he seemed to know a lot about love, and Bryson Bernard, who made the Cupid Shuffle and named himself after Cupid.

Belphegor was in their more confident form, dressed in a pink suit. There was a lot more effort put into their appearance this time. Their clothes weren’t oversized or wrinkled and were clearly tailored to Belphegor. Their shoes were actually tied, and their hair was neatly styled and combed. Chastity took several pictures of them in various spots both in the restaurant and out of it, along with pictures of the venue itself before she left Belphegor to wait on their date on their own.

Belphegor waited patiently at their table for Cupid to come and just entertained themself by listening to all the couples around them and watching how they interacted with each other in an attempt to understand how to be a better date for Cupid. They apparently had plenty of time for it since it was well over an hour since they’d asked Cupid to meet up with them. They hadn’t originally told her where she needed to go when they’d met up with her that morning. At the time, they’d focused more with supporting her and trying to instill her with confidence in herself. They’d brought her breakfast and kissed and bit her neck just like Dean had told them. They told her that they’d text her the directions of where to meet them once the time came for them to celebrate her birthday, so it could still stay a surprise to the very end. Then, they’d just left her to her work, so they didn’t distract her for too long. Maybe that interruption was part of why she was late, but it didn’t bother them too much. What she was doing was important, and they were proud of her no matter how long it took.

An hour started to turn into several hours, but they were still confident that Cupid would show up. “She’s coming,” they assured the staff of the 21 Club when they came to comfort Belphegor, apologizing for Cupid not being there. “She’s just running a little late is all.” They all gave Belphegor a look of pity, which they didn’t understand, and left them to continue waiting. Several people approached them like this as the hours went on. Nearly all of the couples thanked Belphegor for paying for their meals. They all assured Bells that even though this ‘didn’t work out,’ they’d still find the one someday. Belphegor didn’t know what they meant by that and primarily elected to ignore those kinds of comments altogether. There were starting to be fewer and fewer couples in the restaurant anyways, so they wouldn’t have to hear it for much longer.

Maybe she doesn’t really like you as much as you think she does, spoke the Void. Belphegor ignored them just as much, if not more. They might not have understood love that well yet, but they knew more than they did before. They were confident in the fact that Cupid loved them. She’d said it multiple times, and they’d always believe her. They knew, just as strongly, that they loved her too. It added to their resolve to stay here and wait for her no matter how long it took.

Another hour passed. All of the couples Belphegor had invited were gone now, replaced with other customers so the restaurant could keep its business going. Bryson had left too, and Snoop Dog had spent the past half hour sitting with Belphegor. “What I’m saying is fuck bitches.” 

Belphegor nodded, not understanding what he was talking about but just agreeing with him. “Fuck bitches,” they repeated.

“Exactly!” He nodded and sighed. “Aight, I better get going. I’ve got another gig in an hour, but it was cool kickin’ it with you.”

“Fo shizzle,” Belphegor grinned, quoting what he’d often said to them. “I’ll tell you how it goes once Cupid gets here and we finish our date.” 

Snoop Dog sighed and waved them off before taking off. “See you later, kid.”

“Bye!” they called after him and continued waiting for Cupid.

Eventually, it got to the point where it was near the time for the restaurant to close up. One of the waiters came out to talk to Belphegor. “So she still isn’t here yet?” he asked. Belphegor shook their head. “Well, you better order now, or you won’t be able to anymore. I can’t get her to show up any sooner, but what do you want to eat?”

Belphegor glanced over at Cupid’s empty seat. They didn’t want to order without her, but at this point they had to. “I’ll have the Speakeasy Steak Tartare, the 21 Burger, and the 21 Express.” They’d decided hours ago what they wanted to eat, but they just picked something for Cupid based on what they knew she liked. She would’ve wanted the burger, and the last thing was a dessert they could share once Cupid got here. The waiter went off to the kitchen to put in their order, and Belphegor continued waiting. After several minutes, Cupid still wasn’t here, so they sent her a text. They’d sent her several already.

[Sent 5:02 PM]: Hey, here’s the directions. [Link attached] [Sent 6:33 PM]: Don’t worry about being late. I’m still here. Take your time :) [Sent 8:21 PM]: In case you get here in the next minute or two, I’m just going to the bathroom really quick. I didn’t leave you, I promise. [Sent 10:49 PM]: They said I had to order now, so I just ordered for you. I hope that’s okay, but we can pick up something else somewhere else if you don’t like it.  [Sent 11:24 PM]: I hope things are going okay for you. I know you can do it! And if you need anything, just let me know. [Unsent 11:25 PM]: I lov

They closed their phone as the waiter arrived with their food. Belphegor thanked them, and they went off to help other tables. They waited a few more minutes, just in case Cupid got there, but in the end, they couldn’t hold back from eating their own food. They managed to finish it all, and Cupid’s food still remained untouched. As it got closer to closing time, it became clear that she wasn’t going to make it in time to eat her food at the restaurant. Belphegor asked for a to-go box, and put both her food and their dessert away. They at least had enough decency to not eat dessert without her. Still, they waited. They waited until the restaurant wouldn’t let them wait anymore.

“I’m sorry she stood you up,” said their waiter. “But honestly, with as much as you did, if she stood you up, she doesn’t deserve you.”

Belphegor scowled. “She deserves everything!” they snapped. “And you don’t know anything about her.”

The waiter held up their hands defensively. “Okayyy, but you still need to go. We’re closing for the night. I’ll have someone help you carry your things out, and you can wait outside for her if you want, but we’ve got to finish cleaning here.” Belphegor sighed, calming down a little to do what the waiter asked. The remaining staff carried their things outside, and Belphegor sat on the steps to the restaurant, still waiting.

[misfitsluug]

just listen to my voice | kritz

aaa a aaa back at it again, i don’t know what to say so yeah akcjsmfn

/ t w o. /

▕▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▏

john.

The best way to start off summer is getting cute boys number.

My mind raced, I sighed dreamily while walking to work; music playing through my ears as I hummed along to it.

It was the next day, however today was bright and early, I took the morning shift so I could hang out with Cameron again.

Cameron.

I felt my cheeks heat up, I scolded myself for finding such interest in a guy I just met yesterday.

Either way, once I made it to the diner, I began mopping the checkered floors.

A couple of customers entered and I served them until I recognized a familiar face. "Welcome to Nanc- Smitty?"

"Heh, the one and only! I decided I'd pay ya’ a visit," Jaren explained, I smiled and followed him to a table, sitting on the other side of the table. "How've you been, Johnny?"

"Pretty good, actually. I met this guy yesterday during work and I- he's- he's really cute."

"Hm, my gay senses are tingling. What's his name?"

"Cameron, Cam for short. He's like one of those cliche bad boys but not really that bad, ya know?"

"You gonna see him again soon?-" A loud cough from same guy in the kitchen interrupted our conversation, I sighed softly and stood up. "Yeah, seeing him later today. I'll be right back, 'kay?" I spoke and he nodded, I brought the other customers their orders as I finally gave Jaren his own order, a simple strawberry milkshake and a plate of waffles.

"Aye, thanks Johnny."

"How many times have I told you to stop calling me that," I groaned, pulling out my phone to see (2) two messages. "What? You think I'm not gonna call you that? Plus, it pisses you off, therefore anything you say is irrelevant.”

"Yeah, whatever, asshole," I complained, reading the messages on my phone:

Buttface McGee : 'Hey broski, I'm going out with my friends. See ya.'

'Whatever. Have fun:)'

I replied to my sister's text and went to a different message that I was happy to see.

Cameron:)) -

'good morning honey :-)'

'Morning, ass-wipe.'

'yikes, woke up on the wrong side of the bed?'

'Nah. I'm assuming you're still in bed?'

'hey, I'm not getting outta bed till you calldjeidi'

'You okay?'

'just dropped my phone 😎' He replied, I giggled and sighed, to which Jaren noticed. "You texting him?"

"Heh, yeah. I dunno, for a guy I just met yesterday, he's being too nice," I said, putting my phone back into my pocket.

"Well, at least he's being nice. If he's ever acting like an asshole, I swear, I'll beat the shit outta him," He said while eating his waffles.

"That isn't necessary, Jaren. I'm just scared, what if we become more than just friends?"

"Then be happy about it."

"It isn't that simple," I mumbled.

"John, I swear I'm gonna punch you," Jaren threatened, sipping at his milkshake. I sighed almost hopelessly, then my phone buzzed again.

"Who is it?"

"Cameron."

"See, it's pretty simple. Why else he be texting you or give you his phone number? You fucking dummy."

"Whatever," I spat, I could see Jaren's small grin from the corner of my eye as I looked at the message.

'hey honey, whatcha' doing today?'

'I'ma hang out w/ a friend, wanna come?'

'no it's okay, i don't wanna bother'

'You won't be, he wants to meet you.'

'you sure?'

'yea, why not?'

'aight, call me l8ter then:))'

'kay uwu’

"Hey, do you mind if Cam joins us?" I asked and Jaren's smile widened.

"Fuck yeah, let him come. I'm gonna make so much fun of you," He claimed, although I didn't doubt him. I stood up and picked up the leftover plates from different tables, walking into the kitchen and cleaning before heading back to Smitty, taking his plates as well, then changing back into my non-work clothes.

I stayed around chatting with Smitty until my shift ended.

I sighed and stood up from my seat. "Hey, you ready?"

"Yep," Smitty stood up, stretching with a pained groan. "Yo, my fucking ass hurts from sitting."

"Hah, loser. I'ma call Cam, hold up," I said, Smitty nodded and I clicked his number, sending it into a call.

"Hello, my honey," He spoke, making me flustered.

"Whatever, nerd. You still down to hang out?"

"Yeah, I'll wait for you."

"Alright, I'll be outside your place soon."

"Cool, see ya," Cam hung up, I motioned Smitty to follow me to Cameron's complex. I told him about how he called me honey, how he's so fucking tall (he's 6'7), how kind he is despite the fact he wears mostly all black, how he and I went on an adventure and spray painted on an abandoned apartment wall, and how sweet Cam is until he said:

"You have a crush on him, don't you?"

"What the fuck dude, no!" I exclaimed, crossing my arms.

"Shut the hell up, I know you do."

"Do not!"

Do I?

"Psh, whatever, you oblivious fuck."

"Shut up bitch. We're here," I replied, standing in front of the fence, texting Cam that we're here, I immediately saw him walk towards the gate door and opened it. "Cam, Jaren. Jaren, Cam."

"Nice to meet you, mate," Cam shook his hand as Jaren stared at him flabbergasted (most likely because of how fucking tall he is). "Sup dude. So, where are we going? John mentioned something about an adventure?"

"Oh, it's a surprise. Wouldn't want to ruin the fun for you, just follow me."

"Something tells me he's gonna murder us," Jaren whispered to me, I glared and him with a tiny giggle. "Anyways, Cameron. Can I speak to you privately?"

"Yeah? I guess."

"Just stay back here, Johnny," Jaren winked, walking up to Cameron whilst I mentally panicked; Jaren isn't afraid of telling anybody anything.

I couldn't hear them anyway, which made me more anxious. Cam shook his head 'no' twice and Jaren nodded, walking back to me.

"What the hell did you—"

"Okay so, I asked him if he could tell us where we're going, he said no. Then I asked if he was gonna murder us, then he said no."

"Really? Why should I believe you?"

"Because we're besties," Smitty fluttered his eyes seemingly innocent.

"Fine, whatever," I rolled my eyes, looking at the back of Cameron's head.

His hair looked brownish in the afternoon light but his hair was a pretty dirty blonde, his black leather jacket wrapped around his waist with a white shirt and black ripped jeans; which didn't at all fit his personality and I wish I could tell him that. Then I slowly realized where he was taking us.

"Hey, isn't this the way to the train tracks?"

"Bingo! Except we're taking a bit of a short cut," Cameron continued. "Because I don't want the cops chasing us again, decided on going this way."

"Wait, you guys were chased by the cops?" Smitty gasped.

"Yeah, you didn't tell your little friend about that? About how amazingly awesome and hot I am?"

"No, I didn't tell him about the cops," I said prior to Jaren shouting: “And I'm not that short!". After that was said, there was an awkward silence floating in the air, the tense rose, as we approached and entered the lush forest where we ended up close to the train tracks and soon enough, the apartments appeared. "See, now we're here!" Cameron exclaimed.

"Why didn't tell me about the short cut before? This was so much faster," I asked him while Jaren examened the apartments; Cameron's face suddenly tinted a light pink. "W-Well, I didn't know the shortcut existed until one of my sources told me."

"Do you even have a source?-"

"Anyways! Let's head inside," Cameron announced, walking towards the tall buildings. I followed him before replaying what he just said in my head. "Wait, we're going inside?"

"Yeah, don't you want to go to the top?" He inquired.

"Hell yeah!" Smitty shouted.

"Fuck no!" I belted. "No way in fucking hell am I going up there. No offense to the both of you but I am no fan of heights."

"C'mon, let's have some fun! Please, John," Smitty begged but I just shook my head. "Cameron! Help me convince him!"

"Here, I got you. You'll be okay," Cameron spoke sweetly, grabbing my hand. "You won't fall or anything."

I felt my cheeks heat up, I looked down at our intertwined fingers and back towards Cam. "You better fucking promise."

"Yeah, I fucking promise," Cameron smiled.

"And you told me that you didn't have a crush on him," Smitty whispered to me, I scolded him mentally as we entered the apartment. It was extremely vacant and quiet, grey walls are torn and the smell of cement lingered in the wind. We were all completely silent, anxiety started to pool inside my chest as I squeezed Cam's hand. "Hey, you'll be okay," He mumbled to me, I nodded again. The stairs creaked with each step as we got higher until we reached a hallway where a ladder awaited at the end of the hall. Cameron let go of my hand to climb the ladder, me and Smitty climbed after him.

There we stood at the top, I looked up to see the forest and behind all those trees was town. The sounds of the trees swaying sent a cool breeze, making my hairs rise. I walked to the edge of the building, looking down only to see the ground that felt miles away from where we stood, I stepped back with a yelp. "Hey hey, calm down, honey. I'm right here," Cameron's hand on my shoulder as I turned around, he offered his hand to me again and I took it hesitantly, holding him tightly. The sky was a beautiful light blue, orange and pink while the white clouds began turning into a light purple. "This is fucking amazing.”

"Yeah, it is," Cameron answered, his voice soft and calming.

"Hey, I'm glad you came along, Cameron," Smitty mentioned.

"Yeah, no problem-"

"WHO'S UP THERE?!" A deep voice shouted, making me jump and hold Cameron's hand stronger, Smitty looked back and turned around to Cam. "Shit, the hell are we supposed to do?" The Canadian whispered.

"You guys hide behind that," Cameron pointed to a vent block as Jaren ran except for me. "John-"

"Cam, what the fuck are you doing?" I whispered anxiously, the other man's footsteps getting closer. "John, please. I can do this, I don't want you getting hurt."

"You think I want the same for you?" I whisper shouted.

"John, go back there now," Cameron grabbed my shoulders. "Please."

I hesitated but moved backward to Jaren, my anxiety pumped as I watched the policeman walk towards Cameron. "Young man, what are you doing here? These parts are closed off."

"Yeah, I know," Cameron put his hands in his pocket. "Listen, I just wanted to see the view."

"Mhm, listen, let's just head on down and back into town. Deal?" The man asked, Cameron nodded and silently followed the policeman. I let out a small breath, Smitty looked up and sighed, standing up quietly. "You okay, John?"

I couldn’t answer.

I just wish I hadn't gotten attached so quickly to him.

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1866 WORDS.

[artisticestheticreads]

Connected

Writer’s Note: This will be my first published fanfic series with redeemed Erik “Killmonger” Stevens. This is taking place before the birth of Serenity and how he meets her mother who was the reader in Easter but now is a Black OC. Not quite sure how many chapters this will be. Please enjoy and read this chapter while listening to Tadow by Masego. Please enjoy and I will love to hear some feedback or suggestions.

Warning: This will contain that, some race issues, fluff, alcohol, and sexual tension. Definitely a slow burn and much more.

~

ONE

       It was an easy Friday when Erik as a Teachers Assistant. He was off finally for Spring Break and decided to make it to his favorite smooth jazz/poet slam club called SMOOTH in Downtown LA. He went by his studio apartment to shower and change. He threw on dark blue jeans, a black turtleneck sweater and black Timberland boots he got custom made from his old friend in Oakland. He put some Jamaican Castor oil on his braided dreads to protect against the cold weather; grabbed his jacket and was on the way. He parked his car in the lot, gave dap to the bouncer and made his way to his usual spot in the corner. A light skin waitress with a long red lace front wig made his way with a cup of whiskey on rocks and greeted him; she made her back to the bar. He sipped and tasted the nut, fruit and floral smoothness and watched the talent on stage. The band was playing a smooth jazz beat in the background as the burnt umber tone male made his way to the mic.

“Hello, everyone. Welcome to SMOOTH Friday Nights to ease the tension of the hard work week. Next up with the poetic flow of Erykah Badu, the skin of a rich coffee and the heart of a true queen. Please give it up to our sweet, black sista, Maya Symoné.” The crowd all snapped applauding her as she made her way. She wore a long, black body con dress with deep slits on both sides starting from the top of her thigh down. Her hair was neatly tucked underneath her African tribal head wrap, baby hairs and edges resembled the curves of the Pacific Ocean. She dressed her feet in a pair of combat boot heels that had golden lace hoops and black laces. Her skin looked like it glittered and golden under the yellow spotlight. Her ringed fingered hands touched the microphone and her glorious face became clearer. Her brows were thick but clean shaped. Her lips had a beautiful, deep Cupid’s bow and full covered in ruby lipstick. Her deep almond eyes were blessed with long thick lashes. Her round button nose had a beauty mark placed under on the right side of her nose; Erik was stunned especially by her voice.

“Good evening, everyone. Thank you for joining us tonight. If you are new here, let me formally introduce myself. I am Maya Symoné. I am a free stylist but my style is more of a rant of some sort. Sometimes I’ll rhyme and others I may not so bear with me. For the ones, who know of me, also knows of my Instagram and YouTube channel where I basically talk to my lovely family also known as my subscribes about things I go through on a day to day basis.” She sipped the tea on her stool and held the mic taking a deep breath closing her eyes making the crowd laugh.

“I had a follower by the user name beth”. She looked side to side at the crowd as they grunted and understood where this was going. “Beth something or other commented under a post I photographed with a beautiful, sensual black couple with fros and the caption read ‘nothing is more real than BLACK love’. She commented and I quote ‘WHY are you sooooooo obsessed with black on black love? WHY don’t you try a different race? WHY does it have to ALWAYS be about black love and pride? WHY is being with a black man so great?’“ She stopped and placed her hands on her curvy frame and popped her tongue pretending to think. She placed her hands and said “why” as the yellow dim light turned red and everyone snapped waiting to her words. “Why does my love for my brothas threaten them so fucking bad? WE should be asking opposite races why them dating our men is such a fad. Y’ see, there is nothing wrong with loving who you love. But somehow, someway my love for a strong, black, independent king is a sin BUT all I gotta say it ain’t nothing like black men.  I honestly can’t see myself with the opposite race. I can’t see myself with some who have not been here, right here in my place. Why? Why? Because how will I show my future chocolate covered baby girl, my angel, my image how it feels to be loved by the black man. When I see a black father with his daughter, it is the most beautiful thing I witness. The love, the strength, the example of how that little girl’s future king should treat her when the time arrives. Without black fathers, our little queens may meet their demise. How will I teach my sons how to be strong black kings? Because ladies, we can only do so much for our future warriors, correct? Because without our men, our baby boys won’t know what the future of a  black male brings.” 

  They agreed and she continued. “Why would I want to bed with the opposite race? I would not and Ima tell ya why. Because have you ever felt so much love, protection, intimacy during intercourse with other than a black man? Nope. Our men and women, know how to love one another. The way a man, a black man makes you feel can make ya whole day. That little touch, that caress he does can make a black woman smile for hours. It has happened...trust me. WHY would I want to be with someone....” She stopped and wiped a tear off her cheek with people encouraging her to keep pushing; Erik noticed from afar. “Why would I want to be with someone WHO does not get my anger when my people are being slaughtered for sport? Who does not get my anger, frustration or how I feel about losing apart of me. Who has never been through the struggle of being Black in America? I tell you why. Because nothing is more real than having your lover, your friend, your everything gets you because they are you in every aspect. Because nothing is more real than BLACK love...that’s why. Thank you.” Everyone cheered and the red light turned black to her not on stage anymore. 

     Erik sat there taken back, letting every word marinate in his mind. The way Maya spoke to his soul got him by surprise. He looked throughout the crowd to see her sitting by her self sipping her drink which looked like what he was drinking. The waitress came by his table to drop off another drink but before she left, he whispered something in her ear. Maya looked up to the stage playing and felt a presence too familiar. “Hey, girl. Here is another drink, from a secret admirer” pointing towards Erik and, with that, she walked away. Maya met eyes with him and nodded her head looking towards the stage, he smirked as she sipped from his offering.

    Erik sat there leaning on his folded forearms. Watching her until he saw a tall, fair skin man sit next to her and kiss her cheek. He felt defeated in watching so he sipped from his second drink and looked to the stage. In peripheral, he noticed her stealing glances from him. She turned to her friend and spoke in his ear, giggling and she pointed towards his table subtly. Her friend looked up to Erik, who pretended he didn’t notice and got up fixing his leather coat. He stood on Erik’s left and asked in his deep voice “may I sit, brotha?” Erik nodded and he sat. “I see you bought Maya a drink.”

“Look, I ain’t mean-” The friend interrupted him and said “no, no man. I am not mad. I am used to brothas doing that” as he chuckled and grabbed the cigar from his pocket with a lighter. He lit it and blew the air out to the other direction. “Maya has swarms of negroes coming to her. Trying to get into her panties and shit. Makes me sick that she goes through that what is more important is what makes you different?” Erik looked to him finally and stated the obvious. “Unlike them, I ain’t tryna to do anything,  aight? My folks raised me better than that. She seems like a woman who ain’t with the bull shit and that’s why them muthafuckas didn’t stand a chance. I just bought her a drink to show that her performance was spot on and to the point, nothing more.”

“Well, that is a huge relief. Thought you would be the type of man who just wants to hit it and quit it.” He turned and saw her to his right, with a smile and her hands behind her back. He said, “Hello, Miss Maya.” She returned a grin and a “hello there” before looking to her friend. “Tay, ya man is here. He is waiting for you at our table. I’ll stay here and keep this young brotha company.” Tay stood and said his goodbyes and she replaced him in the seat, leaning her round face on her hands. “Thank you for my drink. I appreciate it.” He smirked while saying “don’t mention it. After what you all told us, you needed one.” She gave a silent giggle and kept her eyes on his. “Tell me about it. What is your name by the way?”

“Erik Stevens. Nice to meet you, Miss.” He shooked her hand and took note of how soft her skin was. “Well, Mr. Erik. What do you do?” He sat back with his hands on his thighs. “I’m a TA at an elementary school in downtown.” Maya’s lips parted. “Really? Why not teach?” He shook his head then replied. “Not yet. Still training. I just like helping little kids stay woke, love watching their minds work.” Maya leaned back in her chair with a little raise in the corner of her mouth. “Well, by the look of your arms through that sweater, you are not built for it”; his deep chuckle filled the air between them and made her smile. “What were you doing before,” she asked him as she got closer. His smile slowly disappeared. “I’m an ex-Navy veteran. Served since I was 21, left when I was 29.” 

“Ah, that makes more sense”, she stated with narrowed eyes and a raised brow. “It’s actually funny. My father is retired from the US Army. Served ever since before I was born.” She brought her glass to her lips that the waitress bought her. Erik observed her and the way her skin glowed, so beautiful so radiant, as he heard smooth jazz in the background. “Maya, would you like to dance?” Maya grinned with her lips and nodded as he stood to pull out her chair and she led him to the dance floor. He watched the way her hips swayed side to side. She spun her body to face him and he placed his hands on her hips while she put her on his broad shoulders. They danced side to side, looking at one another in the eyes. He asked “so, I was wondering how you would feel about going out to eat? Y’know to get to know each other.” 

     She sized him up then said, “let me see if you can keep up”. She stretched her arm out and he spun her in a circle to the beat. Her back was pressed against his back and their hips were moving together as one. She lied her head on his shoulder and his hand slowly went up to caress her neck with the tips of his fingers. Maya smiled at his touch and wrapped his left arm around her waist. He took whiff her scent and was instantly enticed. She lifted her right arm to place around his neck and let her hand caress the back of his neck. His fingers caressed the back of her hand once she turned to face him. “Ya pretty damn smooth”, Miss Maya said. He chuckled and said, “guess I’m just blessed with.” She giggled as she got closer to his body, looking up into his eyes. Those eyes, her eyes made his knees weak, his heart smile and a grin appeared from across his face. He held her left hand in his right with his other hand on the small of her back, pulling her in. They danced the whole night but, unfortunately, it was time to go. They stood outside as she waited for her uber. 

“Sure, you don’t want me to drive you home”, Erik asked with his hands locked behind his back. “Yes, thank you though Mr. Stevens.” He looked at her then asked “so, was I smooth enough to get ya number or nah?” She gave half a smirk and started to walk away to her uber. Leaving him confused. “I'm guessing you haven’t checked ya pockets yet, brotha,” she said over her shoulder. He dug in his pocket to find a napkin with a kiss mark and her name along with ten numbers. “How did you”-

She interrupted and said, “you’re not the only smooth one” with a wink and finally leaving. He placed the number back inside and made his way to his car, with a smirk of his own.

~

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[amaloaf]

Forget (Remember) ch. 4

Hey remember this? Apparently I did so here it is, only 6+ months late. Sorry for any inconsistencies, I kinda had to do an overhaul on some of the plot points, nothing major.

The new doctor in town, Doc, was kind enough. He picked out the glass in Sarge’s hand and bandaged it without saying more than three word to either of them. He made fast work of it and before either of them knew, one tetanus shot and and a wise sounding “be more careful next time” later, they were back on the street left to awkwardly walk home.

Sarge couldn't even pretend to look at Fillmore. He just clenched his fists until his bandaged hand stung to distract himself as he stormed back to his store. Fillmore spoke to his back.

“So we're not even gonna talk about this?” Sarge could hear the uneven sound of Fillmore’s wheelchair moving over the rugged terrain. If he were a better man he would go back and at least have the decency to push his partner back to his hut. However, he was just too angry to give a damn about anything regarding Fillmore so he made the show of loudly stomping his feet back to the surplus garage. At least Fillmore was kind enough not to call after him.

Doug “Mater” Keever was waiting inside the door when he went inside. He had some idea of why he was here, so Sarge brushed past him in favor of helping an old woman who was looking at some of the various scrap he kept in the back of the store. She soon left with a sturdy copper pipe, though, and Sarge was forced to acknowledge the other man's presence.

“Doug.” He nodded in his direction.

“Sarge.” Doug seemed to consider him for a moment before deciding to continue. “I hear y’alls havin’ relationship issues.” He stated bluntly. Sarge glared at him from over a display table, he had never had and issue with Mater or his family (in fact they were currently the only outed gay couple in the town who had yet to be stricken by misfortune, which Sarge took some comfort in), but that didn't mean there wasn't any reason to start. Especially if they wanted to start sticking their grimy noses were they didn't belong. Mater put his hands up in defense, though his cheeky smile certainly didn't go unnoticed, “Now, now I di’nt mean nuthin’ by it ya know me Sarge. But I can't safely say I hadn’t been in your shoes before and thought yous could use a helpin’ hand in all that drama.”

“I haven't a clue about what in God’s name your talking about.”, he lied. Maybe, if Sarge was lucky, he could maybe not have the entire town find out about what goes on his bedroom before the day ends. “In case you haven't noticed I'm just a simple man living a single, bachelor life in a up-and-coming pitstop town. I'm not exactly the settling down type.” Another lie. “Besides, even if I was having issues, which I'm not, why would you be any help, I mean it's not like we have anything… in common.” Even Sarge couldn't deny how full of shit he sounded. Mater just chuckled, a deep but warm sound that came from the chest, and looked at Sarge with a mix of amusement and pity.

“Y'know Sarge, denial’s a big ol’ parta the comin’ out process. I won't deny I spent years fightin’ myself at e’ry turn ‘cause I felt I hadda be sumn’ I wasn't.” Sarge stiffened at his words, his shoulders pulling back and his spine going rigid. “I'm jus’ tellin’ ya, it doesn't havta be that way for ya. Radiator Springs is safe, ain't nobody gon’ be able to touch ya here, you can jus’.. be yerself.” Mater said as he watched Sarge, hoping for some sort of recognition or even just a show that he was listening.

Sarge expertly kept his eyes trained on the wall. He kept his arms crossed, voice dangerously low and whispered, “Get the fuck out of my shop before you regret making assumptions that you know a damned thing about me.”

Mater sighed. “Aight, then. Have a good resta ya day, Sarge.” Mater began to walk out but paused in the doorway, “Woulda at leas’ think bout what I-” he was cut up by Sarge slamming the door behind him and removed the sign on the window that said “Open” to “Out to Lunch”. He watched Mater regard the sign before walking off his property, slight disappointment clear in his posture.

‘Good. Serves him right for trying to breach my privacy.’ Sarge thought. He finally felt like he had a second to breath, like he had been holding his breath since the tattoo parlor. He realized he hadn't even gotten dressed this morning and was still just in his sweatpants and jacket. His watch told him it was almost 12:30. Lunch break shower it is.

….

A shower really did do wonders on him. He finally looked halfway respectable, his hair combed and his oddly colored skin at least clean. Fresh clothes and he was practically a new man. No other residents came to the shop for the rest of the business day, so he could rest easy helping customers and negotiating prices. He even caught a shoplifter, a sniveling teen with greasy hair growing past his collar that had tried to shove some blank dog tags into his pocket. He felt a small sense of pride handing the boys apologetic parents a pamphlet for a correctional military camp and watching the kids face twist in horror.

A small part of his brain told him Fillmore would be disappointed, and that he should of been more forgiving. He pushed those thoughts away, after all he had a business to run.

It wasn't until he closed up for the night that he was suddenly aware of how hungry he was, and how empty his kitchen was of any nutritional substance. ‘Normally I eat at Fillmore’s’ he thought miserably as he closed another cabinet after no food had materialized between the last five minutes he had checked. ‘‘Flo’s can't be THAT busy. I'll just get something to go.’’

He was right in a sense; Flo’s cafe was having a fairly slow night, it was just housing everyone Sarge was trying to avoid. Ramone sat on a barstool, trying to start a conversation with the new doctor. The town sheriff was having a malt on the doctors other side, and Doc seemed to be warming up to him much better. Mater sat with his husband, Carlo, and their kid Toby, (who they just called “Tow” since the poor kids lisp made it hard to pronounce his own name and they just couldn't resist the pun to their profession) at an outside table. Tow was talking loudly about some sort of lizard he had seen and was spraying food whenever he talked. Scattered townsfolk and shopkeepers lounged around, relaxing after another busy workday. The worst of it though, was Fillmore sat in his and Sarge's normal table, forlornly picking through a salad. It was enough to make Sarge up and leave, but before he could try and slip away Flo called from the doorway, making everyone in the restaurant look his way.

“Hey there General! The usual?” She shouted, and by the coy grin on her face, Sarge just knew she and Ramone had planned something. He faked a half smile and shouted back, “Yes, if you don't mind!”, before stomping up to sit at the bar next to Ramone.

Doc took notice of the new patron and leaned over, “How's your hand doin’, Sargent?” Sheriff immediately noticed Sarge's hand, which had begun to show stains of blood through the bandaging.

“Woof, how'd you get that, Sarge?”, he asked, voice laced with trace amounts of concern through his malt.

“Grabbed a figurine too rough and it shattered in my hand. It's doing much better though Doctor, thanks.” Sarge replied. “I'll change the bandaging again tonight, I think.”, he added quickly before the doctor could lecture him on taking care of his wound.

“Good. Make sure to disinfect it as well.” He said before adding, “Oh, and you can just call me Doc, no need to be so formal.”

“Just Doc, huh?” Ramone said as Flo placed a hearty red stew with a glass of water in front of Sarge and sliding a ham sandwich to Doc. “Does that come with a story?” Ramone added with a grin, “or do we have to crack your cold facade first?”

“Maybe my origins will be revealed in due time.” Doc said evenly as he took a sandwich half in his hands. “But for now let’s enjoy the lovely food that's been placed before us.”

‘Amen’ Sarge thought. He could feel Fillmore's eye glancing over his back and he wanted to be gone as soon as physically possible. Just when he began to gulp down his last few spoonfuls he felt a large, warm, familiar hand on his back. He turned his head just enough to regard Fillmore but made no effort to make conversation. Ramone and Doc both glanced at them, smugly and curiously, respectively, before politely turning away. Sheriff, never one for social graces, made no such niceties, watching them over Doc’s shoulder.

“Ge- Sarge, do you think we could talk now?” Fillmore asked, his voice gentle.

Sarge thought about it for a moment before answering, “No. I don't think I'm ready yet.” It wasn't a complete lie, but just enough of one to make him feel bad all the same for not working through these relationship issues. “Just… give me time.” Fillmore removed his hand and began to turn the wheelchair around and leave the room.

Sarge couldn't stand watching him go. Even his hand being removed from Sarge's back made his heart ache.

[runekirikjartan]

Hi heard you are wanting prompts about mad sweeney/reader fanfics. Wondering why there isn't any, let me just say your not the only one. Like really, who doesn't like him! What if the recently hired waitress!reader has caught the eye of mad sweeney (c'mon the irish charm) as she gets flustered easily and stutters when talking to him. Maybe tries to impress her with his coin tricks. She leaves her late shift at the bar she gets bothered by some customers but mad sweeney saves the day.

Oh anon I love Irish charm, it sweeps me off my feet every goddamn time c:I’m getting back into the swing of writing but hopefully this ends up going well.

pretty sure I hit over 1500+ words on this one

You’re new in town. It’s obvious enough as you entered the pub when you saw the sign claiming new employees were neeed. Getting the job was easy enough, when you thought about it. Be friendly, be polite, be able to hold your own, and serve the customers. Shouldn’t be too hard. It didn’t take you long to get your first shift, that night itself you were dressed in a neat blouse, and a short skirt that fell to just above your knees.

It doesn’t take long for the pub to fill up, it gets loud, and busy, very busy. People coming and going, some stopping to chat you up, others simply making conversation about the weather. It doesn’t faze you, most these conversations, they make time running up and down the length of the bar much more bearable. Conversations start and end, as the night grows longer, the atmosphere of the bar changes. The air gets filled with drunken laughter, the lighting switches to a more dim lighting, and in swaggers the most confident man you’d probably have ever seen in your life.

You don’t know how to describe him, but what catches your attention is the well trimmed beard, his hair, shaved at the sides, in a pseudo mohawk, is much more attractive than you think it should be. He gives the room a grin, obviously acting like a regular. His blue button up hugged his arms and chest as he swaggered up to the bar, giving you a cheeky grin.

“Well hello darlin’ didn’t realize we had some new ladies in town.” He drawls, crossing his arms on the bar top and leaning in to wink at you. His eyes twinkling under the lights. A hint of gold glitters between his teeth and his smile widens as he leans over the wooden bar top, getting a good look at you.

You try to reply, to get out the usual “What would you like for tonight?” The same thing you’ve been saying for the past four hours of your shift, but all that comes out is a slight “uh…” and a stutter that leaves your cheeks glowing red and a chuckle escaping his lips.

“S-sorry,” You stuttered, your cheeks burning as you glanced away for a second to collect yourself. “What can I get you?”

“Now I’ll tell you what hun, I’ll show you a magic trick just ta calm your nerves, then ya can grab me a pint aight?” He rambled on instead of answering your question, pulling a coin from what seemed like thin air. He continued to do so as you stared in awe, pulling one from his sleeve, his pocket, behind his ear, his hair, even producing one as he stuck his tongue out playfully. With each one, your grin, and his grew wider, friendlier. When he set the last, what you thought was the last coin down, he leaned on his elbow to catch your gaze and grinned.

“Cat got yer tongue hun?” He queried. A part of you wished you could get your head out of the clouds and shut him up, still in awe that he’d managed to practically ‘conjure’ up this many coins without letting the trick slip.

“Uh… Right. What can I get you tonight? Sorry.” You asked again, apologizing even though you probably didn’t have too.

“Well sweetheart, I’d like a pint of whiskey and maybe your phone number to go along with it.” He raised an eyebrow as your jaw slightly dropped, your lips parting in surprise before your blush brightened your cheeks at full force. You fumbled with the cloth in your hands and nodded, more for your sake than his, and you turned around for a glass and the bottle of whiskey from beneath the bar.

As you poured the pint, you let your gaze just rest on him, taking in the sharp cut pattern in his hair, the gleam in his eyes that intensified with the lighting. You slid the glass over to him, giving him a soft smile.

He lifted it gratefully, taking his first sip. “I suppose I’ll have to come by at the end of your shift for your number then?”

He was gone before you could nod, his body disappearing among the crowd of people, you’d figure you wouldn’t see him for the rest of the night.

An hour after you had been sure you had met possibly the man of your dreams, the middle of the pub had cleared. A loud accented voice shouting, almost rattling you at how aggressive it sounded. Familiar red hair moved away from the crowd, there he was, stripping off his button up down to suspenders and a white tank top, his arms bulging at his sides as he stared down a dark skinned man, about maybe six inches shorter than him.

While the switch from pure charm to raw aggression initially scared you, you couldn’t help but leaning against to watch closer as they began to throw punches, flinching when they connected with each other. It didn’t take too long, the fight pretty much over in minutes, leaving the red headed charmer with a bloody mouth, a bruised eye and blood matted beard. You went around the bar to help him, placing a hand on his shoulder as he steadied himself against the barstool.

“Are you okay?” You ask, gently, not wanting to aggravate him. He turns his head to look at you, eyes a narrow slit. As he recognizes you, they soften and he gives you a bloody grin, a low rumble emanating from his chest, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“Ya ain’t seen nothin’ I can take sweetheart.” He leans in to peck your cheek, uncaring of the slight blood smear he leaves. “I’ll see ya after your shift.”

Your blush has come back full force, as he pulls himself up and disappears, probably to the restroom to get cleaned up. A patron hands you a napkin, and gestures to your cheek. Your face burns and you wipe at the blood you know is smeared across your cheek and jaw.

3 AM comes and it’s the first time you’re locking up. The cold air bites at your lips as you tug your coat around you with one hand, the other fiddling with the key in the lock on the grill doors.

You hear chatter to your right, but you pay no bother to it, the cold isn’t something you enjoy, and neither is walking home alone. You pull the key away as it locks, stuffing it deep into your coat pocket, before lifting your head and turning to begin the trek home. The wind blows past your face and the chatter becomes more distinct, as if it was getting closer.

You chew on your bottom lip, flinching at the sting of your teeth against numb skin, you duck your head and keep your gaze half on the floor on in front of you, watching your step, when you hear the chatter practically behind you. You slow, and the footsteps behind you do the same, the chatter ceases. You turn around, ready to tell someone to piss right off, and you catch a view of a trio of men, all stocky and beefy, looking piss drunk, their faces half hidden by shadows.

“There we are boys, darlin’s noticed and turned around.” One man slurs, stepping forward, his pals, the other two following his steps. You frown and take a step back in return.

“Fuck right off!” You spit, your hands clenched into fists, eyes glaring at them. “What are you doin’ following me?”

They chuckle, disregarding your question. The other two split away from the first man and you realize they’re looking to surround you. Any other night, you’d reckon you’d be able to at least take one of them, maybe just by kicking them in the balls and in the pelvis, but with three. Your best idea would be to try and run. You look around, trying to find a way to escape, but they close in quickly, backing you against the wall. Alcohol’s thick on their breath. You press yourself back as far as you can against the bricks, shoving off their grubby, wandering hands.

Just as they get more grabbier, a loud shout catches their attention. Familiar red hair catches under the streetlight and you let out a sigh of a relief, With them distracted, you shove your way between them to make an escape towards him, your ‘Prince Charming’. He grabbed you gently, pulling you behind him, standing almost menacingly in front of you, his teeth, less bloodier than they were back at the bar.

“And what do you lads think you’re doin’ to a vulnerable lady at this time of night?” He growls, his accent think, his voice rumbling deep. He takes a step forward as one of the men do. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”

“Do what’cha want with the girl, she ain’t our type anyway Sweeney.” The leader growls, before spitting into the gutter.

“It’s Mad, Mad Sweeney to you lads. And I see ya come near tha’ lass again and I’ll kick yer arses myself.” You’re practically clinging to his arm, with one hand, the other clenched in his blue button up, twisting the the fabric between your fingers. As the trio stalk off like a pack of cats, your saviour- Mad Sweeney- turns around to look down at you. Standing outside now, you never realized how tall he was when you both were back in that bar. You chewed on your bottom lip and his expression softened, his lips turning upwards in a smile.

“I’m sorry ya had to go through that lass.” He cupped your cheek, thumb rubbing over it gently. You give him a soft smile back, your hand coming up to lay on his.

“Thank you.” You say, your voice is soft, but it sounds like speakers in the empty streets.

“It was my pleasure darlin’.” He lifts his eyes to the streetlights, and they highlight just how beautiful his eyes are, melted chocolate, or a swirl of caramel in coffee. He looks back down at you. “I’ll let’cha get back on yer way then.” He drops his hand, and steps out of your way. You hesitate, looking back at him.

“Maybe… it’d be better if you walked me home?” You give him a coy smile, red blushing cheeks under the guise of being cold.

He breaks out into a grin, holding his hand out for you. “Well, I didn’t get yer number back before your shift was done.” He said teasingly, before closing his fingers around your hand gently, pulling you to his side. You lead the way to your apartment, fiddling with the key with cold hands. He takes it from you, unlocking the door and handing it back, letting you invite him in away from the cold. As you hit the switch, in the lights, you can see the flush in his cheeks as he towers over you. He’s taller than you, could definitely lift you with one hand if he wanted too. You keep your eyes on his, and they have a glittering gleam to them that fascinates you. He smiles, and you smile back, he takes the blue button up off, and leaves his second shirt and tank top on.

The blue shirt ends up thrown over the back of the couch, your back pressed against the cushions with a 6’4 mass of muscle and charm gently mouthing at your jaw and throat. You scratch at his back, pulling up his tank top, tugging at those suspenders that highlight his chest and arms.

God aren’t you glad you got that new job.

[throwingideasatthewall]

Clone Wars        Slaves of the Republic

Chil-dren

     Children are slaves

     Contin        -uing          on,                  That’s            Kin             da-

     Narrator

  (smarter than Anakin)

   It hasn’t been for several years           though right?

  Z-y      ger-i         a-  

  Seriously         you guys co -exist       and have a giant council,

    How did no one       notice this shit?

   Also if they’re         Sep-ar            Tist-             -      they have a   govern     -ment-

   So, is this some kind of   iron   curtain?

  Se-      riously?        -         How?

Also why is     Rex       or Cody?      —       Okay, seriously what is up with the    uniform?          -        Where’d you even get that from?

    There’s one dude,

   And if it was from like a secret         stash of disguises?

    Wouldn’t that be          several years          out of date?

   Like,      What?           -        You’re better off not doing the    dis-guises

    Also, geez a lot of assumptions like one       extremist made a claim and now the whole planet has the       burn           ...     Like seriously it’s in      char-        acter,

   But this means Obi-Wan was only agreeing with her because he knows her personally

    (’Her’ being            Man-             dal             Or              Ia             N       Duchess,’)

   Those are    ships

   What- music-

    Why?

 The music is just      nope,

   Bor        der-        Ing-          On-         .        Seriously     why is he here?           .          What is with the          clothing ?

       Why?

        Seriously, how is that going to           fool anyone,

         They’re-

       I don’t like the lack of logic            already in this episode,

  Why?

  ‘you’ll be so distracted by that she won’t notice that we completely invaded her kingdom wearing the uniform (possibly 10 years out of date) of her guard and do not at all look like a species

        Or anyone     she hi       -re         -d

     (And somehow     won’t get stabbed to death)

  Oh, 

   And       Ahsoka,

   Sl-ave

    Y-eah,

    Also why is       she wearing face coverings?

   Like, didn’t seem to be a       custom?

    Odd         Dis         guise

    (I guess anything covering features would         give her less of a chance of being           recognized)

      (Yeah but you know more about the emotions involved,             And probably would be better acting at it)

           Ma-ster

             No,

           Damn      she just scorch     ed his teaching

         Boomers,             Don’t know                  shit

            Why is it                  blue?

            Why is there a               dragon thing?                     -  

I don’t know     Ah-soka why don’t you ask the     clone you’re work      -ing with,              Or remember how they raised you for the sole purpose of serving their system

     Fighting for it

      This

  Oh great   did she tell you that information  ?

    (Instead of         y’know        fixing the damn problem,”

       Yeah,            Sucks,

      Oh they actually        brought that up,

     Okay, I deduct that point           (Slight               ly,)                -                Invit            -ation                  -                 Fair

          Brig              -and

         Again what makes them think that this is anything more than an        extremist ?

        Like, how is that        important?

       Halt,

     What,

     That          thi-ng,                ?

        Again           what?

           ?

   Also yeah the uniforms look      significantly different?

       That mean              anything?

        Again

        Oh, so those            birds are native ?

        Or, Other            Wise-

       Se-        riously           what?

       Not exactly how         attraction works,           Which I think is          what they were trying to             imply there,

      There needed to be more of a       look over-              Or                Him      taking off his hat               (For that                gasp reaction,)

            Also yeah        a newly minted slave would totally                   bow,                      To their oppressor,

               That’s                   something Anakin,                  should be doing,

               Ah, did you not send from                        your-self?                          That would’ve been more of a rea-lis-      tic scene for        the drinks line,

     Ha-           tred             -          Yeah no this is a really bad       job,

     Yeah, there’s no way       she’s falling for this,

  ‘This is he      he’s cute so I’ll play along,

      There’s, no other way this     isn’t ending with a dagger to a neck,

      Wa- rrior

      Oh she’s      talking about Ana                             -kin

  Stock,

  Again he literally sent you the    whole population of the planet,

   So, I don’t think he was that       specific,

   You know   it’s a good thing         Ahsoka’s as an adult            Because this would be highly      disturbing with any other      alternative..

   Also I guess that kind of makes sense as           the shock wearing off 

     but she definitely wouldn’t be that wild,

     Mo-

     Pro-cessed

    Yeah there’s      no way lady is falling for this,

    That’s     got dragged into it        temperament,

     Point,          It’s           Not-

     It’s         not          fitting        ‘ I know you’re         bull-     shitting me,”

    Her,

  Yeah there’s      no way,      she’s falling for this,

   (Anyone   would probably have a let’s see      where this leads,

   This-            Isn’t             It-

      You know this flir-            ting is better than anything that happens with    Padme-

       Like     it’s at least got the tone       -right

     Good

       But also no

      She’s significantly older than him and...  toxic,

       I’m going with     tox        -ic          -         Also- yeah 

   Anakin is definitely a lot better       at this-

 Ah-       soka          -            Not          even bothering        with it,

      Ai

         Again,       Why is this so much better than anything with       Pad-me,

  Like it’s toxic          -     but it holds them both accountable,

  Generally a lot      better writt          -en

   (Hopefully they were going for they don’t actually love each other      they just like breaking the rul-es)

   Because-       I can’t see it as any       -thing          else          Now,

   (Or even then,)

     Da-          Mn-

  W-e

  Yeah dude      it’s clear that she’s faking,

   What’s a        Hutt?

   Mm

  What?

  Also yeah no one questioned them about their     human appearance-

   Why-

 Ob-vious

  Also, yeah what are they even doing     bury-ing them alive,

         Why-

        Obi-Wan acts a lot more sus instead of just staying down in the pit with him under the guise of screwing with a prisoner

        Also yeah      I can’t blame him,

           She’s an adult

  Bru-tal

     Tox          -ic

       Also,           You          figured out the price between you two                That   should be     a lot more dramatic,

     They’re adults.

       Gi-

       Also yeah        no way she’s falling for that           -                 Also yeah   where did his name come from?            -          Like did they give an           alias at some point?           -         Cause is Lars just seems to come out of the air-

   [they told them that they knew said dude, Anakin talked with the queen but I can’t- but he didn’t mention her name-

      Me

     Again this is pretty good 

   though the tone did drop there a little,

   She’s        screwing with him-

     Yeah,          I’d be worried about him drinking the Kool-Aid right about now         too

     [he already drank the Generational Overstep one           ]

    We-ll

   P-

  Holo-

  What       -       Sl-        aves        -       Uhm,

   Sucks          . .      that he decided to enable that shitty system

    Accoun-    tability is always better,

    But if he dies the system of his        own making it his own fault,

      ?

      -  also yeah     now we’re sussing out the human targets,

         Ye-ah

 Yeah       no she’s definitely fucking with them,

   Also you’re telling me they didn’t notice him from the       white republic ass       robes?

      (Or did they just          give that to him?)

     Sub-mission

     Yes      she’s right,

  Mhm, loving this ro-     ast of Kenobi right now,

     It’s still said by a         worse enable

     So not too sweet

      But it      hits a spot,

       Any          way,

      Aight

Well isn’t this Anakin’s fantasy,     finally his anger out on his abuser              (Vent-ing)

           Hm,

           Yea-

             O-k

             Ok

            Seriously that is damn light

            Call-ing him a                   boomer

              Then they’re both enabling old Gen                     So pretty past the                  redemption mark,

                 But,                    Still,

Cath,arsis      is nice,  

B-ack

 W-h

 Yeah,        see      she     ��knew          it      was        bull,         shit-

    D-ie

   Wh-elp-           -          A more realistic relationship                   (toxic)

              High                  -                  Well

(Also when did the      clone get back?)

        Well,

      Also R2-D2 has the capabilities of a           projectile              launch                -er                  -               G           -uard                -              A-i

        Whe-

       Whe-n?

       Okay?

      D-amn      

      A-gain

      Exp-ression going a little          Looney Tunes        the-           re-

     (I should be able to read           their ex-           pression,”

]

 How?

  Did      that?

   She wasn’t wearing a     shock collar,

   And we didn’t see her gets sent to processing with that kind of thing would be implemented,

   Ser-

    Oof           -          Rex?           -        Freckin         down,

     Oof,

   W-h-         elp

   Again     emotion?

        [what’s              the           emotion?]

      W-h                  Oh-    

       I thought that was         pretty neat~ 

       Th-em      

      Da-mn   

     Also,             friends,         His       poisonous        en-abler          who        groomed          him          to            be          a child soldier,        And someone from a        younger       generation,         Who he groomed to be a child soldier,           Great         freck           ‘in           friends,               W-    

     Hey, that’s              some thing,              Mis-             s-             ion             .    

      Again has anyone been taking the mission        seriously            .         ever?         ..         At any point?   

     Anakin‘s been hecking around with this                      Obi-Wan decided screw            Subtlety, and went for             one guy,    

        And Ahsoka’s been been            be               grud               G                    Ing                        Ly                       -                      Putting                         up                      with                        it-                        ...                    Gen                          eral                         . . .                          Ser                          -vant                              -                                 Okay the tone just went into                               gar-                                 g-                               ,ling                               marbles,                                  And the                                   expression                                          is                                   neutral                                     (at                                      best)                                                                            What                                         the                                         hell?

   (Seriously why whenever Anakin‘s unfortunate childhood            it turns into gargling marbles?

        Like I can’t even tell what               emotion that is

     Either way    it’s just not how people talk,           Voice possibly getting         lower,          Not         what th             is- is

She is right - he has enabled a terrible system and continue(s - to be Obi- wan and the Council’s         bitch         (Non   identification          term,)

       Me

      Power

 Hey, no     difference from Obi-Wan,

      Great,

       Here,    The Boomer bait     Obi-Wan gave me,     Promising a place in      their screwed up           Future,       That I traded it then          Future            Now             Present              Ahsoka      ’s           (Chance)         at          A            Non-       (Completely)        Feck      -e-d              Child                 hood                 For,                  Thank       -s

   (Totally not a servant)

      Despite the      very conditional nature of         that agreement

              Also I real-ly like what they did there,      Anakin not being a slave         (Like he       said,

      Like in childhood)

              Now just being        a willing          servant,

        Really showing the         Modi    -cum      Of         Diff        er        en         ce         Be-tween    Being unwittingly       ordered         into it,                  And      (continued)     choosing to           enable it

       Fri-en          d-s

         Well that’s better for Ahsoka than literally anything Anakin and Obi-Wan have done for her

         Con-stantly              putting her in harms way-

         (Not giving a shit       about the child soldier thing)

          Great

          Why?

I don’t   honestly don’t get the idea behind the get up

As seen none of the   other     [of her     species]      Is     wearing     similar   get up

 Just-      doesn’t        add       up,-

  Aight

   Seems-         fine-  

     More hassle to get        food and water and        everything else up there to be        quite honest,

    Also seriously what is up with the wildlife?

   Like we have the cute        squishy things?

   And then        these?

    How?

   Promised

    Also,      That really     didn’t sound        too malicious         ...      Don’t get me wrong I think      I know what they’re trying to imply,

   But dude here’s suffering from          Clovis syndrome,

    Aka the tone just isn’t       carry          -ing           —-           There doesn’t seem to be any   malician     .behind what he just said,

   Like dude sounded like he said      “mine” as in mine for       board game night,

   “sk         -ug,”         Ok,     that’s Malacian      but it’s not the        right        kind,

       That just sounds          mildly offensive

                Non                    committal

                 Doesn’t really connect with    the tone of the previous sentence,

    Which was         like;           ‘The queen has promised you to me       how do you feel about it?’

      That, just coming            out of nowhere,

         Not carrying

        W-help

         A-         Ight-

         Not even             -consistent

           Like seriously,

       If you’re going to do a flat character              like that;

            At least try to do it                consistently;          Like dude went from “lust”, (I’m assuming it seems more like self-  conscious/doubt) to me then off-hand        Passive aggressiveness, then       Disciplinary,         Without so much          Of a pre-            empt       (Not        prompt,)                We never saw that        conscious          -ness               turn                to           aloofness,               Then cold rage,              pushing the button                   no shift,                     Only                impromptu                    jump,

            Shame would’ve been interesting if Ahsoka had a Clovis like friend,

            (I don’t know                  his age,)

                Again,

                Re-action?

  What am I supposed to feel          what, emotion is that

       I have           no clue,

      Well,         Why?

   [Why-

       ?

     Who is        this guy?

      A slave           owner/buy               -er?

        Whel-

        We’ve       found them

         No you were brought to them            -by force-

          Also where is the dude              that was just in a chair?

            Where?

           [also wow for Rex this must feel a                return ho                              me-

    Oh-but-

     Okay, not gonna          question it,

        Jedi

         -             Also yeah that was the question what their education of their youth actually is like

   *Groom            Ing

      Like the      propaganda        must be         damn          thick,

         As well as         the child abuse                    (If this is the state of society and seeing how they can see another         adult human being              (Sen             -tient)                 Yeah there’s no way those kids are in good condition,

            Also this dude comes off as such a              doof,

              Like not even remotely intim-              idating-                      -                  Well,                   Fuck

(Also yeah I’m pretty sure the         queen is going to be real fucking pleased that you just wasted a bunch of        stock

 Of a trade that is just getting back up and running again

 Also yeah     Kenobi really fucked this one up      -     His job to find them-       Fecked that      up-          -          Atten       -tion               -           Worst. way to get        attention         ever,

      You

  See, they’re specifically doing this to        mess with him-          -            De-fy

   And Obi-wan was then     allowed to wander off,

   While dude     spun the wrong way in his chair,

      Wh-

      Wh-at

      Why?

     Rom-antic     ?

    Lady that’s like pointing and saying you were once an abuse victim weren’t you?

    Like, very likely

  With the council, the clones            At least two slave               states                 (Planets)

       I think the only way you could get                 “vagu-er”                       Is saying                 child soldier,                       Sl-ave

  Being a slave      doesn’t make you       naturally virtuous,

    With      abusers,      it makes you pissed off

      Others,          Ty-pica               ll           y            Fine,

   But again that’s not guaranteed,

   Ex-abuse victims can still enable the abusers-

       And-

   [There’s just a lot of problems with this that I’m kind of     gargling,]

    Point being you can’t tell      something like that,

    And      suffering doesn’t make you more       virtuous,

          (Just means normal human decency stand out a lot more in the   darkness of degeneracy,

        Any,            Way,

   Groom         Ing

    Oh

   So they are actually       fram-          ing that it’s a bad thing,

     Good, cause it is

  Obi-Wan is a grooming frick

   And Ahsoka is a child robb         -ed of her child-            hood-

      By the council and implied to be              by Anakin              (Who did nothing and enabled it long past the point of        return,)

      Self-

     And literally        every-one             else                 (Inc-luding              the abuser        as we just saw)

         Self-           destruction            (and           enabling                it)             is a shit time,

             Be            Absolutely nothing besides a toxic enabler      upon a pile of rubble,

   It’s damn       useless,

    Oh, that’s almost           flirt              Ing-

That’s really dramatic music        for FLYING Frogs,

        Stay

        Again, he’s not       terribly opposed to this,

    -it

    Again, that came out of nowhere

    Like Anakin slavery hangups are the equivalent of an           on and off switch

     * Note, a reason.                To,              Slavery is bad         objectif             ication of other humans is bad,               Don’t do it,

          I called them hangups just to denote the fact            that there never anything,                  im-portant,                consistent or some thing he sticks by,

             Being perfectly fine with this        flirt      -ing        off the clock

    With a sl             -aver             -             Only occurring at random with no reuniting theme

         And literally just sounds like the writers,             Shou-ting-               “ Hey guys remember Anakin was a             slave?”

           Yes and while that can cause            rush-es of             e-motion

            None of that                 is shown,

            We don’t see Anakin clenching his fist and it building up that resent       -ment-

         We don’t see him fighting              the idea,                 that the            Jedi just use him,                 Like his               old slave                master-

                We don’t       see any emotion,

              It’s just dull

              Not like an emotional dull

              Like an unemotional one,

                            There’s not        h-ing

                            Which is a shame because there should be a lot of emotion here-

         And there’s not-

     She’s          Right,

     And Anakin is an          inhuman        abomination,            That can’t even           manage an emotion,

     (Might want to try          someone else)

        Really?

        Because he hasn’t managed a single emotion or       conflict this entire time,

        Unless you mean biologically complicated in that case yes how the feck does this man work?

        Adult people are             very emotional,              Dude can’t          even manage a bit of it

   - His expressions        are damn atrocities

      (Of logic!)

     (And        ,empathy)

   Again      Emotion,

  Well I will give this episode the benefit,        It’s the episode that got things the            closest thing to right             (Greivous’s lair,           Not          withstanding)                In terms of tone, 

       Near the middle

    (Before promptly          coming crashing down to the ground,)

     Unfortunately considering the rest of the episodes that isn’t really high  praise

      The thing about tone is I need to be able to understand what emotions your char-acters are feeling and being por-tray-ed in about every scene,

       And,           You can’t cut corners

       And hav-ing switching emotional        moods            With             out              pre            empt              or under-              standing,

        Still passing the threshold of being a              good story;

          -Co-herent tale that can be followed

          - doesn’t normalize        problematic or self-destructive                   Behavior

         However not one of a fun story;

       Leaving me with the persistent fee-      ling of chew-            Ing metal

      Mildly      irritating,        Clunky,          And not the least bit entertaining        or of any value                 (Much)

     That it has yet to          rise above