#y'know. a quick check up on your coworkers.

[hunterxhavok]

Connor: Batman seems to be acting erratic. Shouldn't you check up on that?

Oliver: Batman has never not acted erratic. If he's possessed his actual friends will do something. C'mon, let's save my other son.

[bloodnight-blaze]

“ kiss me under the mistletoe! ”

ft. xavier, zayne, rafayel, and sylus w a gn!reader.

synopsis: the holidays are long over, but that doesn't stop you from hanging up a mistletoe as an excuse to kiss your boyfriend.

notes: listen.... listen okay.... i can't wait until december to write this i have to get it out now.... lengths of each section may vary but i tried to keep it to an 8 paragraph maximum.

warnings: canon is vague so you decide, inaccurate timing of mistletoe i guess, very short and sweet and self-indulgent, just a lot of fluff and a lot of kissing, reader wears lipstick in raf's part bc i am desperate to cover that man in lipstick stains, zayne is a menace, sylus is also a menace, pet names used: cutie (r), sweetie (s).

XAVIER — is very confused when he wakes up from a nap to see mistletoe dangling in his face. Last he checked, it was the middle of January so he's fairly certain he didn't sleep the entire new year away. Though, it's not something that's entirely out of the question.

Behind the mistletoe he saw your smiling face, and you pull the plant away from him as he sits up, planting yourself right next to him and looking at him expectantly.

Xavier knew what the mistletoe meant, he just didn't quite understand why you were using it now, weeks after Christmas.

You don't seem at all concerned by the timing of this, just smiling at his confusion and raising the mistletoe up a bit as you speak, "This is the part where you kiss me, y'know,"

And while he might have some questions, he's never been one to deny you what you want.

A small huff of amusement, and then he's leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against your lips. You eagerly kissed back, barely able to contain the giddy smile on your face when the kiss breaks.

The smile on your face, coupled with the look of satisfaction in your gaze has him pulling you onto his lap, pressing a few more quick kisses to your lips before he's burying his face in your shoulder and letting out a small sigh.

His heart felt so warm, and even though he just woke up from a nap, he wouldn't mind falling back asleep like this. Which is exactly what he plans on doing, by the way, so any plans you had after your silly little idea are immediately canceled.

ZAYNE — would pretend not to notice it at first. He's not being mean, he just thinks the little frustrated pout you get when he acts like the mistletoe has always been there is cute, so he can't help himself. He's also curious to see just how far you'd go to get a kiss from him without having to ask.

It even becomes a game, of sorts, with Zayne sometimes acting as though he'd finally kiss you when standing under the mistletoe only to instead pat your head or press a kiss to your cheek.

You took his teasing as a challenge, and soon enough you somehow hung up mistletoe in all of the doorways in both your home and his. You even went as far as to hang one in the doorway of his office at the hospital.

A few of his coworkers had questioned him about it, and he couldn't stop the look of fondness that bleeds through his usual calm and collected demeanor, simply telling them that it wasn't any of their concern.

It all coalesces one night, maybe two or three weeks into trying to get a kiss under the mistletoe with him. He showed up at your apartment with dinner only to find you sitting at the kitchen counter, all the mistletoe you had put up set in a pile. Your arms were crossed, and you were glaring down at the plants as if they'd insulted you in some way.

"I give up," You say, a bit dejected. And Zayne feels a bit bad, admittedly, as he sets your dinner on the counter next to all the mistletoe. He doesn't really understand why you're trying to get an excuse to kiss him when you can just do it, but he'll humor you.

With a small sigh, he grabs one of the mistletoes and dangles it above your head. It's enough to get you to perk up, and you brighten immediately when he presses a kiss to your lips. It was quick, and when he pulled away, he mutters a soft, "Satisfied?"

"Hardly," You exhaled, but he covered your mouth with his hand before you could kiss him again, his lips quirking up in a slight smile at the frustrated sound that comes from you. You weren't getting anymore kisses until you ate dinner, no matter how pretty you looked with your puppy-dog eyes.

RAFAYEL — probably wouldn't even realize you had put mistletoe in the entryway of his home. At the very least, when he does notice it, he'll be far more interested in figuring out what shades of pant he could make with the plant rather than anything else.

You can't say you're shocked when you hurry back to his place after running a quick errand to find him crushing the mistletoe. You curse yourself for not buying a backup in case this scenario happened, but there wasn't much you could do.

That doesn't mean you were any less determined, however. The mistletoe may not longer be a plant, but it was in the paint he was making, and therefore the rules still applied, so.

Deciding to be patient, you would wait until Rafayel actually used the paint to make your move. The painting hung on his wall proudly when it was finished, a satisfied smile on his face as he watched you admire it for a few moments, "So? Would you say this is my new masterpiece, cutie?"

And you feign deep thought for a moment before you pull him down into a kiss. It wasn't heated, but it did last for a good second before you pulled away. Bewilderment in his eyes and a pretty blush dusting his ears and cheeks, you smile and simply nod to the painting on the wall, "Mistletoe."

It takes him a few moments to process your word, and his brows furrow slightly, "It's not even December," He says, though he certainly wasn't complaining when you pull him in for another kiss.

You kiss him until his face is covered in lipstick stains, and your lipstick was smeared. His breaths came out in small pants, a dazed look in his eyes when you finally pull away.

"...You're trying to kill me," He quietly accuses after catching his breath, and you can only laugh.

SYLUS — is rather amused when he steps into your apartment to see a thing of mistletoe dangling in the entranceway. He knew you were planning something from the moment you told him to stop by your place.

His amusement only grows when he sees you standing under the mistletoe, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible as he takes his jacket and shoes off. He doesn't need to ask questions, he's not a fool.

The mistletoe was there for a reason, one so glaringly obvious he couldn't help but feel a bit smug knowing that you were trying to find sneaky ways to kiss him. He was flattered, truly, but you didn't need to go to such lengths.

His hands were on your waist in an instant, and you don't miss the gleam in his eyes as he looks at you. Oh, he was never going to let you forget about this moment, and you were half tempted to pull away before he could get the chance to actually kiss you.

His lips capture yours before you can actually distance yourself from him, and it was much more gentle than you were probably expecting it to be. He kissed you like a man dying of thirst, and yet he controlled himself enough to not make you uncomfortable.

"You don't need to use a plant to kiss me, sweetie," He murmurs against your skin after breaking the kiss, instead taking to pressing light kisses against your jaw and neck.

The attention had your mind faltering for just a moment, and you grumble out a quiet 'whatever' before lightly pushing him away from you. You had to cover his mouth with your hand just to get him to stop kissing you. Not that it worked, because he just presses one against your palm, his gaze never leaving yours.

You're the one who wanted a kiss, even going as far as to bringing out mistletoe in the middle of January to achieve your goal. He's just simply giving you what you were asking for.

[sugoi-writes]

(Preview) Trigger Happy, Part 2

SOOOOOOO I reread Trigger Happy for like, the first time after posting it. And my god, it kinda DID things to me. So without further adieu, here is a sneak peek/prelude to Part 2. It's extremely fluffy. No content warnings for this one, other than implied spicy thoughts ( @ieatcocoa I blame you, in the BEST WAY)

MDNI, or I'll cut you

🩸🦌🩸

A few months had passed since your last weekend trip to the cabin. The crisp air of Autumn had been corrupted by the cool embrace of Winter. For Louisianians, there would be no white Christmas, but the promise of chilly mornings and frosty nights lingered with the season.

Life had ultimately gone back to 'normal' for the both of you, as if the tumultuous chase has never happened. Alastor's radio show swung without a hitch, gaining traction with his extensive coverage of the famous 'Bayou Butcher'. Meanwhile, you were performing particularly well at your own job, a promotion lining up for your hard work. Life had improved drastically. 

But... even in the heat of your success, the both of you started to become stir crazy. In your efforts to work harder, the both of you neglected your sanity. All of this for the sake of being 'better off', the both of you had decided. At least you both agreed on one thing: a short getaway was long overdue. Your recommendation for a cabin-filled weekend delighted your overworked partner. And so, you both had worked your magic to make the getaway happen.

🦌❤️🦌

It was Friday morning, just an hour after Alastor got off of work. (Thankfully, he had managed to switch prodcasting times with another coworker, guaranteeing an early departure). When you had packed the last of your bags, you snuck back to your closet once more. Pushing over copious amounts of clothing on the rack, you finally pull out what you'd been looking for: a white linen gown with lace trim... Or at least, it used to be white... It was the dress you wore during the last 'hunt'. 

The fabric was weathered, rumpled, and looked quite horrific, if you were being honest. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks as your fingers brushed over the fabric, erotic memories flashing across your mind. The heavy thuds of footsteps, the smell of the dank bayou, the crunch of withered leaves... And yet all of these memories paled in comparison to him. 

Alastor. 

His heated touch, labored breaths, and manic, brown eyes nestled deep into your debauched dreams. Dreams that you found yourself longing to relive...

You bit your lip, debating if you should pack the dress. You wondered if this would be subtle enough, or if your secret desire for a part two was too 'on the nose'. 

This thought was disrupted by the bedroom door creaking open, and the sound of Alastor's silky, serene voice. 

"Darling, are you almost ready? I've gotten everything else in the trunk so far--" 

Alastor catches you glimpsing at That Dress, his back stiffening as memory lane hits him. Hard. 

He grins soon after, his smile cat-like as he wanders over to you. You're quick to hide the dress behind your back, stammering an excuse. 

"Y-Yes, I have everything-- just-- just thought about this old thing, y'know? I may need to toss it. This filthy thing has been through enough… It's just hanging here, collecting dust." 

Alastor clicks his tongue against his teeth, chuckling at your horrible attempt to deflect,"Dear, why would you want to get rid of this relic? I rather like the dress, you know~" When you avoid his gaze, Alastor sighs dramatically. He reaches behind your back, gently tugging the garment out of your rigid grasp. You can’t help the sheepish noise you make when he slings the dress over his shoulder, letting it hang off of him like a disheveled shawl. 

"Check the back of the closet, dear. In my garment bag," Alastor offers gently, stepping up beside you. You squirm as Alastor places a kiss on your temple and an impossibly large hand on your waist," I have something for you; perfect for the occasion, I'd say." 

You blink in surprise, throwing him a questioning look. Money wasn't exactly tight in your household, but the gesture surprised you all the same. A gift… for you? 

You're met with a beautiful sight. A pristine, red nightgown that made an apple look pink. Upon touching it, you realize it was satin; much nicer than the cotton one you originally had. Your mouth fell agape, your eyes widening in tandem. Dumbfounded at the sight, you hardly moved as Alastor kissed your cheek again. His sincere smile only grew as he gave your waist an affectionate squeeze. 

You follow his suggestion obediently, rummaging carefully until you hit Alastor's bag. While it usually hosted his dry clean-only suits, you noticed that it was uncharacteristic thin. Paper-thin, even.

You take down the bag from the bar gingerly, heart racing with curiosity. Alastor was just as eager, watching you with baited breath as you eased the zipper down. 

"Better to be prepared than not, right~?" Alastor mused, taking your free hand. You finally look his way when you feel a featherlight kiss press to your knuckles.

"This is--" 

"Yes yes, darling, it is. I figured it's only fair that you were dressed in my colors this weekend~" Alastor all but purred, his eyes full of mischief.

"Alastor, it's... Really beautiful. I hope it wasn't too much--"

Another kiss, this time just above your knuckles. A trail of sweet, deceivingly innocent kisses started to ascend your arm. Ever the cheeky man, Alastor was. 

"My love, nothing is ever too much for you. Think nothing of it. Simply wear it... It would make me very happy to see you in it."

You comtemplated his words, really taking them in. Like the lush fabric of the nightgown, you felt... Soft. You were almost liquid smooth, a flush festering on your skin under Alastor's affections. When he had kissed all the way up to your cheek, you turned to meet his lips with your own, smiling blissfully. Thankfully, Alastor didn't seem to mind the interruption

"Well, I guess I can't say no when ask me so sweetly... 'Can't let such a pretty dress go to waste, then~" you chime, giving Alastor another kiss. In fact, to air on caution, you zip the laundry bag closed, tucking it under your arm. You wouldn't want to risk ruining it before Alastor got his chance to...

"And," you added, a renewed glee coursing through you,"I think I'm ready to head out now~" 

Alastor reflects your smile, pressing a firm kiss to your lips to seal the deal.

"Off we go, then. Oh– and I think we should take the scenic route this time, if that’s alright..." You practically giggle as your arm is taken into his, allowing your beau to lead you out of the bedroom. 

"Honey, I would love nothing more." 

🦌🩸🦌

[slasherhaven]

Hello, can I make a request for Thomas? Something about him getting bullied/attacked/picked on by either people from the town or coworkers in the factory and physically strong reader standing up for him and openly liking him/finding him handsome? It can lead to a nswf moment or not, and idk if they would know each other personally prior to that... pls female reader if possible. <3 I love your work.

Unfortunately, no NSFW in this one. Just a steamy kiss!

Thomas’ Future S/O defending him against a bully

Word Count: 2311

You had been working at the meat processing plant for a while now, and since your first week you had befriended the silent and mysterious Thomas Hewitt. You first saw him when you were being given your introductory tour, your less than friendly tour guide had pointed him out and told you to just avoid him, but that only made you more curious about him.

You understandably figured that he just wasn't a friendly guy or that he had caused some trouble in the past but you quickly realised that wasn't quite right. You hadn't even finished your first week there when you realised that he wasn't a problem at all, it was actually the others that bothered him all day, while he just remained silent, kept his head down, carried on with his work, and ignored them.

He wasn't the problem, they were.

So, on that Friday, you marched over to his work station at the back of the room and asked him to have lunch with you. He seemed cautious of you, like you must be pulling a prank on him, before agreeing.

From then on, you and Thomas would always have lunch together, and a friendship formed. You carried most of the conversation but eventually he took to scribbling down what he wanted to say on some paper. You weren't sure if he couldn't talk or just didn't talk, either way you didn't mind. You had earned his trust, at least as much as anyone could right now, because you had always been so kind to him. Yes, he had thought it was a joke at first, but he really was starting to realise that you were being sincere. You were his friend.

You were one of the last to check out at the end of the day, often using the time after everyone had left to speak with Thomas some more. You really enjoyed your time together, even if he wasn't the most talkative person, you liked him.

After checking out, you headed back to the work floor, where you saw Thomas finishing up. But with him, was one of the worst offenders when it came to picking on him. One of the men who thought something of himself, thought himself to be better than everyone, especially Thomas.

He was, once again, berating the taller man. You rolled your eyes and walked over to them. "Get outta here, Pete. Ain't you got something better to do?" you sighed, hoping that the man would just leave without argument.

"You don't gotta defend him because you feel bad for him" Pete scoffed, looking Thomas up and down like he was some sort of spectacle.

"I don't feel bad for him, you're just an asshole and nobody should be subjected to having to listen to you" you crossed your arms over your chest.

"Oh come on, it don't bother ya, right?" Pete asked Thomas, acting as if the insults had just been some friendly banter but you knew better than that. "Probably doesn't even understand what I'm saying" he laughed when the other man didn't respond. "He's just some animal" his smile fell, his expression turning darker, as he glared up at him.

"Oh please, he's a better man than you. Smarter, kinder, more empathetic, better looking. You've got nothing on him, Pete" you glared at the man, suddenly becoming defensive over your friend. Your words made Thomas look down at you, shocked by what you had to say and even more by the sincerity.

"Better looking?" Pete scoffed, clearly amused by your compliment. You cringed a little, knowing you had accidently opened the floodgates, so you made sure to speak before he did.

"Have you looked in the mirror lately? I pity your poor wife" you looked him up and down disapprovingly, like the sight of him repulsed you. And in maybe ways it did.

This time, Pete didn't respond, he just glared before taking a step towards you. Though you were quite ready to handle yourself, you just looked up as Thomas moved to stand slightly in front of you, staring down at the man almost threateningly.

Pete looked up at the much taller man, looking like he was considering his chances before deciding that he would definitely lose. So, he backed down, glaring at both of you, before grabbing his coat and heading out of the door. Leaving only you and Thomas on the work floor.

"I hate that guy. I don't know why he's always picking on you" you let out a huff of annoyance as you dropped your arms to your sides.

Thomas turned back to you as you spoke...he could give you a few reasons...

"Thanks for standing up for me just then but you don't need too, I can handle myself. Anyway, I'm used to the men around here, most of them are pigs" your face and voice softened as you looked up at him.

But he still hung his head. 'Most of them are pigs', he's been called much worse but did you see him like that? Women definitely tended to avoid him like the plague, even though he really wasn't a threat to him, they seemed to think he was. Did you think that?

"Wish they were more like you" you chuckled, making him look at you again. You could see the surprise in his eyes and that made you frown a little. "Oh don't look at me like that. You're the best man I've met around here. Trust me, I feel more comfortable around you than our other co-workers" you told him sincerely but he still adverted his gaze, not believing you.

"Hey, come on, I mean it. I'm not messing with you. Y'know I wouldn't do that to you" you frowned a little, gently placing your hands on his arms. He had stopped flinching away from your touch now, something that he used to to regularly. "You need somebody to help you see how good you actually are..." you told him before insisting, "I meant everything I said, y'know."

His gaze met yours, curious but shy. You had noticed that he had rather expressive eyes.

"We both know how people look at you and I hate it because it's so wrong. I hate even more that you believe them" you sighed as you lowered your hands, stepping back to comfortably leaning back against his worktable.

"You are smart, smarter than anyone gives you credit for, all because you don't talk but that doesn't matter" you shook your head in disapproval. "You're kind and caring. You're always so sweet to me even though people can be so cruel to you. You stood up for me back there even though you didn't have too" you pointed out, "and I know you don't think it, that's clear enough to see, but...well, I think you're pretty damn handsome. And I'm sure I've told you that before".

You have...you have told him that before, always so unashamed about finding him attractive, but he always thought you were messing around.

"I know I've never seen you without the mask-" you continued, noticing how he tensed at the mention of the mask, "-but that doesn't bother me. I can see enough of your face to know you're attractive and you have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen" you compliment. A smile gracing your face when you saw his blush over the top of his mask.

Only then, you realised that you were speaking a lot and probably being a little overwhelming. Maybe he wasn't blushing from the flattery but from embarrassment or discomfort and that wasn't what you wanted at all.

"I'm sorry. I'm probably being a lot right now, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable" you apologised but he quickly shook his head to reassure you. "You don't mind it?" you asked and he shook his head again.

"Well, good" you smiled before reaching out and taking one of his larger hands in yours. "This isn't really how I wanted to bring it up, after an argument with some asshole at work, but...I've never lied to you, Thomas. I really do like you" you told him.

He still didn't talk but he did give your hand a small squeeze, a silent 'I like you too' that made you smile before gently guiding him closer to you. He stepped forward cautiously, like he was waiting for you to burst out laughing and for the hidden audience to come out laughing at him for thinking that he could ever have this for even a moment.

"This okay?" even though you knew he wasn't dumb like everyone else seemed to think, you sometimes worried you were taking advantage of him because he didn't talk and tended to just let things happen to him. For somebody so large and intimidating, he could be rather timid around you.

But he nodded.

You let go of his hand but only to place your hands on his shoulders, leaning up on your toes to carefully press a light kiss to his lips, ignoring the feel of the mask. You had actually planned on inviting him around for dinner, rather than approaching this in the middle of the factory, but this would have to do because it felt like the right moment. Oh well.

Thomas' hands instinctively rested on your waist to support you, since you had to strain on your toes to even reach up to him.

You had always found his height attractive but you couldn't deny it was a little bit of an obstacle right now. Thankfully, he also lent down so that you could relax a little and not have to strain so much to meet his lips.

But as quick as your lips touched his, you pulled away again, gaze scanning his face for a reaction.

His hands were still holding your waist, not wanting to move them and alert you to their presence just in case you became aware to them and decided you wanted them off of you, but also not wanting to pull them away and stop touching you.

He felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck,  neither of you minding how he lent down for you to be able to do so.

Gaze closely scanning your face, he realised that you were watching him expectantly and Thomas froze up for a moment. You were waiting for him to do something, you wanted him to make the next move. For a moment he didn't think he could but your presence put him at ease, you always did.

You have always been so kind, so honest, and so accepting of him. Whenever you came around with that smile on your face, Thomas couldn't ignore the fuzzy feeling he got inside or the smile on his own face.

So, Thomas lent in again and kissed you.

It felt easy with you, it felt right, like this was what you were supposed to be doing. And he hoped that this was the start of something.

The kiss was a tad more forceful than you had anticipated but you blamed it on pent up emotion, and you weren't complaining at all. In fact, one of your hands moved to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss a little. You just couldn't help yourself.

At first you had control of the kiss, Thomas following your lead, learning from you. But he slowly became more confident. His hold on your waist becoming a little firmer, more sure, and taking the lead in the kiss, making you sigh happily into his mouth.

You guided Thomas a little closer, welcoming him into your personal space, and he moved willingly. He couldn't be close enough to you. He picked up on your eagerness, and even if it confused him, he didn't want to disappoint.

Each time one of you made an attempt to deepen the kiss, the other reciprocated it. The hand, that wasn't on the back of his neck, slipped over his chest and to his waist, wanting to feel more of him.

Both of you were a little surprised when your back hit the table behind you but you couldn't help but smile when Thomas' hands gripped your hips, easily lifting you up and sitting you atop the sturdy table.

Now, Thomas was able to straight up and press his body to yours better. Your arms returned to their place around his neck, sitting as close to the edge of the table as possible so that you could feel his strong form against you.

Maybe the two of you were getting a little carried away considering where you were...

But neither of you could help it. You had been pining after him for a while and Thomas felt the same. Plus, the amount of affection he was feeling and receiving in this moment was just overwhelming to him.

Just as you were completely forgetting where you were, the sound of a door slamming snapped you both out of the moment and made you pull away from each other. Both of you flustered as Thomas took a step away from you, the two of you turning to the sound.

Then the supervisor walked in, seeming surprised to see anyone still here. "What are you two still doing here. Get home, I need to lock up" he was more annoyed by you both than anything but you didn't plan on hanging around much longer.

"Sorry, Boss" you apologised as you grabbed your coat. "C'mon, Tommy, I'll drive you home" you offered as you turned back to him. Thomas nodded without hesitation and followed you out of the building, neither of you noticing the glance you both received from the supervisor.

Smiling up at Thomas, you wrapped your arm around his and guided him to your car. You knew that he usually walked to and from work, but you didn't mind giving him a lift at all.

[beelsnack]

I know this happens to plenty of people. You work in fast food or retail and your just trying to make a living. Whether your saving to get out of a crappy household ASAP, no matter the job, paying for college, or any other reason and you WILL have shitty jerk customers (At my first job and first day, I was asked if I spoke English because I couldn’t understand him with the mask and there’s a glass in front of the food. Buddy, shush. Didn’t help that I’m sensitive, ended up crying the moment I got home. These jobs are ones where you learn to really respect these workers cause of the crap they go through when you have it as a job)

In this request, the boys visit MC in the human world when they have the chance. So, my request is how would the brothers and Diavolo (the limit was 8 right?) react to coming to the human world one night to visit MC and they see them just crying and just frustrated in general due to shitty asshole customers from work?

I feel it's necessary to let you know that I actually started working on this request while on my break at my retail job.

I'm sorry you had to deal with that, friend. Pour one out for the retail workers out here busting ass during a global pandemic.

Thanks for being patient with me, friend, I know I don't really have a consistent upload schedule.

-----

Lucifer: In hindsight. he could have planned this out better.

Perhaps his own pride was to blame. He had planned to surprise the human by showing up unannounced after their shift, but he had gotten so caught up in the thought of them jumping into his arms out of sheer joy that he never considered that it might not be a good time.

"Hush now, my dear," Lucifer sat down next to where they had slumped against the wall of their living room. The carpet was slightly stained and part of him wanted to recoil, but there were more important things to worry about. "Those wretches aren't worth your tears."

He brought his arm around their shoulders, tugging them against his side and letting his cloak drape over them like a blanket. They snuggled into him almost instinctively, and he couldn't help but preen a little bit.

"I know," they hiccupped, burying their face in the crook on his neck. "It's just...sometimes it's hard not to focus on it, y'know?"

Lucifer didn't, but that didn't mean he lacked sympathy. The demon placed two gloved fingers beneath their chin and tilted their head upwards.

"Then how about you focus on me instead?"

Mammon: Turns out every Realm had its Karens. Who knew?

When Mammon had first popped into the human's place and seen them face-down on the kitchen table sobbing, his initial reaction had been violence. He wanted to find whoever made his human cry and wring the reason why out of their throat. But, after the initial bloodlust subsided, he realized that he had something way more important to worry about.

He sat down on the chair next to them, taking one of their hands and gently running his thumb over the bumps of their knuckles as they choked out what had happened. Mammon had worked his fair share of part time jobs, he was no stranger to the specific torture that was retail. So hearing that his human had to go through that made his heart break a tiny bit.

Not that he would show it, of course.

"A'ight, human, the Great Mammon is here to help." he grinned, standing up. "I know just what you need."

He strode over to their kitchen like he lived there, flung open the fridge and pulled out a bottle of alcohol.

"Mammon," the human rubbed at the dried tear tracks on their cheeks. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but...how did you know where I keep my liquor?"

"Minor details, human!"

Leviathan: His first instinct was to panic.

The human was flopped face first onto their couch when Levi showed up, and his specialty had always been jumping to conclusions. He almost took himself out on their coffee table in his haste to make sure they were breathing.

And then the human almost took him out because the logical reaction to someone suddenly bursting into your home and getting right up in your face was to a) scream and b) punch.

After the comedy of errors skit was over, the two of them were sitting upright on the couch. The human looked exhausted, both emotionally and physically, as they filled him in on their day from Hell.

(Except not because their actual days in Hell were a lot better than working retail, but that was beside the point.)

"...so not only did I have to interact with people, which is already more than enough, I got screamed at because this old lady didn't like the price of something! Yes, Helen, I personally made the prices higher just to piss you off, you've figured out my master plan!"

"Ew, no, do not want." Levi winced in sympathy. "My personal remedy is playing beat-em-ups."

"Your solution to everything is video games, Levi."

"Shh, no thoughts, only Smash Brothers."

Satan: He had so many questions.

What happened? How long had the human been sitting there stewing in their own misery? Where was he going to hide the body?

Satan was a pro at suppressing rage. So even though he wanted to go rip out the vocal chords of every soccer mom with a let-me-speak-to-the-manager haircut within a five mile radius, he reigned it in enough to settle himself down on the couch next to the distraught human and rub soothing circles on their back while they tried to tell him what happened through their sobs.

"Next time, summon me and I'll kill them for you."

"I don't think corporate would appreciate me summoning a demon in the middle of a department store."

"I don't appreciate corporate telling you that you have to stand there and be verbally abused by a wrinkly old hag who couldn't figure out what the word 'expires' meant." he huffed. The human let themselves flop heavily against his side, and when he looked down at them he noticed that the corner of their mouth had twitched up in the barest hint of a smile.

"She was, like, thirty, Satan."

"She was a wrinkly old hag in spirit."

Asmodeus: "Oh, darling, what happened?"

Usually Asmo preferred to be on his knees for a different reason, but the human was refusing to look up, so kneeling in front of them was his only option to be able to see their face. He reached up to cup their cheeks, wiping away a few tears with his thumbs. "Shh, it's alright, I'm here, darling. Tell me what happened."

They sniffled, a few fresh tears spilling over when they blinked. "I-I'm sorry, Asmo, I - "

"No need to apologize, darling." he moved some of their hair behind their ear. "Just let it all out. Bottling up all of those negative emotions will make you break out."

After a few more minutes, they finally calmed down enough to recount the torture that had been their retail shift.

"Ugh, honestly," Asmo shook his head. "Hearing those kind of stories just makes you wonder. How do people get so entitled like that?"

He stood from his kneeling position, reaching down to hold their hands. "I refuse to let any of those awful people contaminate your beauty, darling. You," he let go of one of their hands to boop them affectionately on the nose. "Need a spa night."

"A spa night?"

"Mm-hm!" Asmo hummed, already on his way to the bathroom. "You let Nurse Asmo was all of those icky feelings away."

Beelzebub: They hadn't even made it fully into the living room.

When Beel stepped through the portal into the human's apartment and saw them curled into a ball near the doorway, he was immediately on high alert and checking for danger. Only after he realized that he didn't smell blood and had made sure to inspect all of the places for danger to hide did he lower his hackles.

The human was watching him through watery eyes, and Beel realized belatedly that he hadn't even greeted them. Well, bit too late for that. He crossed the living room in a few long strides and crouched down in front of them, lifting their hair out of the way to check for injuries.

Satisfied that there was no immediate danger, he scooped them up into his arms and deposited them on the couch. "Do you want to talk about it?"

They shrugged, wiping furiously at their eyes. "Just...people at work were being jerks, is all. I'm probably just being a big baby about it."

"No you aren't," Beel sat down next to them. "You're allowed to be upset if people are being hurtful."

That only brought on a fresh wave of tears, and Beel felt a little guilty. He pulled them closer until they were practically in his lap and tucked them underneath his chin like he could physically shield them from all of the awful things in the Three Realms.

"I'll make us some dinner. Everything's worse when you're hungry."

Bephegor: They started nap time without him.

Well, that's what it looked like when Belphie first popped through the portal. But, upon closer inspection, he noticed that the lump under the blankets that was the human was definitely not sleeping. Their breathing was quick and staccato, interrupted here and there by low, hiccupping whines.

They were crying.

Well that wouldn't do. Crying yourself to sleep just gave you a headache.

"Hey," he peeled back the protective layer of blanket to look at the human. Eyes red-rimmed and puffy, with a little wet spot on the pillow where their tears had landed. They sniffled, trying to shrink back into their blanket burrito, but Belphie held first. "Let me in."

He wiggled his way into the cocoon until they two of them were snuggled together, with their head against his collarbone. "Wanna tell me what happened?"

"Humans suck."

"Didn't we solve this issue already?" Belphie snickered when they pushed weakly against his chest. "Why in particular do humans suck?"

With a shuddering sigh, they recounted the events of the day. How they had been screamed at by customers, then scolded by their boss when said customers complained, then treated like actual garbage by their coworkers when the boss took their anger out on their employees.

"...Yeah, humans suck." Belphie tugged them in a little closer, burying his face in their hair. "But you've got your favorite demonic nap buddy here, so you don't have to worry about humans, okay?"

Diavolo: He felt powerless.

It was not a feeling Diavolo experienced often as the Crown Prince of the Devildom, and the few times he did experience it, he didn't like it.

If they had been in the Devildom, he would simply order whoever had made the human upset to be tortured for a decade or two - well, actually, he would have them brutally killed, revived, and then killed again, but the human was a merciful soul and likely wouldn't let him. But this was the Human Realm, where the only influence he had was the intimidation factor of his height and size. So all he could do was hold the human as they sobbed against his chest.

"This isn't fair to you," he mumbled into their hair as they sat on the couch. "You should be in the Devildom, treated like the noble you are. You shouldn't have to deal with these ingrates who think they're better because you're on the clock at that particular moment."

They whimpered softly as Diavolo murmured sweet things to them. Even if it was merely a fantasy, it was nice to think of a world where they wouldn't have to put up with all of the bullshit of retail.

Maybe one day they would take Diavolo up on his offer.

[bbugyu]

can i kiss you yet? + hong joshua

a mutual friend always made a great excuse to see you, but he definitely wanted more.

wc.2.4k | joshua x gn!reader, fluff, first snow au, foreigners in korea squad up, josh is a tutor u are an ambiguous worker everything is vague shhh, there are really no warning this is just fluff, oh drinking, but only the once, miss park chaeyoung please text me back

haha..... i am....... im not........... im in my joshie feels ok do not talk to me about it im embarrassed. thanks @babiemingoo for ruining my life by saying joshua would fall in love with me, and i quote, "no cap."

~

you spent a lot of time with joshua. by proxy, mostly, but you enjoyed his company nonetheless. your best friend called him her brother - they weren't related by blood, but by circumstance, having separately moved to korea at an old enough age to take care of themselves but young enough to still need the support of someone going through something similar. they were neighbors, and rosie had no way of stopping him from barging through her front door at all hours of the day. she always yelled at him to let her have some privacy. he insisted that if she was doing something that required privacy, then she should tell him beforehand. you always just laughed from your spot on the couch.

joshua would smile and put up a hand when he pretended to notice you for the first time, as though you weren't the express reason he had made an excuse to show up. "hi, y/n."

you would smile back and wiggle your fingers at him. "hi, josh."

this happened almost every time you came over to rosie's apartment, and while you never intended to see him, you would be lying if you said it wasn't a lovely benefit.

she rolled her eyes. "don't you have a job?"

"that's the great thing about being an online tutor," joshua said, making himself comfortable on the opposite end of the couch from you. "flexible scheduling."

you realized you had never asked him about his work. "what do you tutor?"

he looked at you, and you thought you saw a flash of nervousness in his eyes before he grinned. "english. and korean. and algebra. and calculus, sometimes."

"that's, like," you paused, your head knocking to one side. "impressive?"

"is it?" he laughed. "i just voice chat with high school students in sweats."

you shrugged. "i'm bad at math and i'm pretty sure i'd be bad at teaching, so anything like that is impressive to me."

he nodded, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. it was hard for him to believe that you could be bad at anything, but he figured math was an okay thing to be lacking in. "noted."

rosie coughed loudly, making you both direct your attention to where she was leaning against the kitchen counter. "if you guys are done, i would love someone's help deciding what kind of pizza to get."

when you left hours later, rosie asked joshua why he even came over, trying to imply that he was taking too long to admit he liked you.

he pouted out his lips and shook his head. "no reason. i just heard you talking to someone and wanted to make sure you're not inviting over weirdos."

she gave him a sideways glare, knowing that if that were the truth, he would have come over when mingyu showed up the day before. or wonwoo last week. or any of her other friends that frequented her studio apartment. but conveniently, he only ever barged in when it was you, and she had a suspicion that it was because he had learned to recognize your laugh through the thin walls.

the first time you ever met joshua, it was at a bar. you and some work friends had agreed to get drinks together, and when your coworker-turned-bestie got a call from her neighbor saying she got a package, you nudged her.

"is he your oppa, like, just a guy, or like a boyfriend?"

she squinted at you, registering your language switch "ew! oh my god, he's just a guy. he's like a brother."

you heard an indignant noise over the line at her exclamation, and you giggled as you guided the straw in your cocktail to your lips.

"am i lying, joshua?" rosie said, rolling her eyes. "are you not like my brother?"

"joshua?" your eyebrows quirked up, realizing he had an english name, and only processing after the fact that he also understood her. "is he like us?"

"foreign?" rosie asked, looking at you. "yeah, he's from la."

you looked at her expectantly. "well, is joshua free tonight?"

she laughed at you, but redirected the question over the phone anyways, then promptly invited him out to join you at the bar, and he said he could be there in 45 minutes. he arrived with 6 minutes to spare (not that you were watching the clock, but you totally were), and rosie waved him down to join your table, quickly introducing him to the coworkers you had deemed fun enough to hang out with.

"and this is y/n," she said, grabbing your arm. she leaned over to joshua, pretending to whisper. "the other foreigner."

you laughed and shook his hand, saying it was nice to meet him. he smiled back, warmly, and returned the sentiment. he was korean, you realized, despite being from america, and he was incredibly handsome. like, absurdly so, in a way that felt impossible in reality, yet here he was, gaze flickering over your face as you brought your (new) drink to your lips, and the liquid almost caught in your throat when you saw an entire galaxy twinkling in his eyes. you blinked when he went to get a drink, thinking you must be drunker than you thought to have mistaken the reflection of the fairy lights that littered the bar as galaxies, but for some reason, your initial impression seemed to suit him more.

months later, you went to rosie's apartment just to drop off some food - you were teaching yourself how to make korean side dishes, and she volunteered to be your auxiliary food tester if you made too much, which, big surprise, you absolutely did. she made fun of your cooler bag and your big puffy jacket, saying you reminded her of the grandma down the hall, and you laughed heartily as you made your way to her kitchen.

she had an essay to write, so you didn't stick around. shortly after you announced your leave and exited to the hall, the next door opened.

"oh," joshua said, hand still gripping the handle of his front door as he made surprised eye contact with you. "you're leaving already?"

you pursed your lips to hide a smile, wrapping your scarf around your neck. "already?"

"you usually, um," he paused, his hand going to the back of his neck, the other pushing into the pocket of his jeans. "you're usually around for a few hours."

you giggled. "i was just dropping off some food, rosie has an essay to write."

he puffed out a cheek and nodded slowly as he let it deflate. "i guess i shouldn't bother her, then."

you watched him avoid your gaze, then peeked slyly past him into his apartment. you had never been, but it looked neat. neutral. comforting. it seemed like him.

the jig was up, joshua thought, studying your eyes briefly. you clearly knew he only ever barged into his neighbor's apartment because you were there. he had obviously just given it away, but maybe you had always known, and you had just let him think he was convincing when he said he had no idea you were over. but maybe he was okay with that, because you never complained. and maybe that meant you liked seeing him, too.

"are you busy?" he asked suddenly. "i don't mean to keep you, but-"

you shook your head quickly. "i don't have plans."

"uh," he turned to his apartment before looking back at you briefly. "let me grab a jacket, i'll walk you home."

you couldn't help but smile. "okay."

joshua made sure he was quick to get his winter coat and a scarf, but instinctively adjusted his bangs in a mirror and checked his breath. he silently scolded himself for making this out to be something that it wasn't - he was walking you home, not taking you out. but he hoped he would work up the nerve to ask before the end of the walk.

"ready?" you asked, pushing off the wall you were leaning against as you waited.

he smiled at you, silently hoping he was. "yeah, let's go. it's gonna start getting dark soon."

when the two of you exited the apartment building, hands shoved into pockets, joshua commented that it felt like it was gonna snow.

"i think the forecast said tomorrow," you mused, looking up at the overcast sky.

he stared at you as you walked beside him, your lips curved upward in a vague smile as you thought about how much you liked the snow, and when you looked over and caught his gaze, he redirected his eyes just a little too late, then laughed at his own behavior. "sorry, you looked really cute just then."

you couldn't help but smile, nuzzling down into your scarf to hide it. "as opposed to normally, when i don't."

"not what i said," he defended immediately. "i think you always look cute."

you giggled into your scarf, hoping he couldn't see how flustered you felt. "thank you. i think you always look cute, too."

you caught a small smile sneak onto his face as he looked down at his shoes. "thanks."

joshua had never once seemed shy to you. a little hesitant, maybe, when you had first met him, but he exuded confidence. you got the impression that he knew himself better than anyone, and he was happy to express himself genuinely around people that accepted him. he was a bit of a smooth talker, you thought. he had a way of saying exactly what people wanted to hear, whether it was true or not. but today, now, he seemed genuinely reserved. quieter. like he wasn't quite sure what to say to you as you walked side by side on the sidewalk, headed to your apartment.

"what kind of food did you bring to roseanne?" he asked, trying to fill the quiet.

"standard fare," you said, smiling at how he used her full name. "kimchi, seasoned beansprouts, sweet potatoes, fishcakes."

"oh, korean?" he asked, looking at you. "i didn't know you cooked like that."

your lip quirked into a smile at the reaction. "i'm practicing. gotta please a korean husband if i wanna get a permanent visa, y'know."

"right," he said, nodding at your joking tone. "a korean husband."

you blinked, eyes focusing on something in the air, then looked up. "oh my god, is it snowing?"

joshua tore his gaze from you, looking around at the flakes that were gently falling from the sky. "i told you it was gonna snow."

"but the forecast said tomorrow!" you laughed, pulling a hand out of your pocket to try to catch some flakes. "has it snowed yet since new year?"

his heart fluttered lightly as he watched you shove your hand back into your pocket. "no, not yet."

you looked over at him and giggled at how much snow had gathered on his dark hair. "oh, jeez, it's starting to come down." you reached out to him, brushing some flakes off his bangs, and he hoped you thought his ears were just red from the cold. "if we don't hurry, you're not gonna be able to walk home."

that wouldn't be the end of the world, joshua thought. maybe if the snow fell heavy enough, you would tell him to sleep on your couch instead of trekking home. maybe the two of you could chat, alone, just enjoying company until too late in the night. and maybe your heating would go out again, like you often complained about, and maybe the two of you could wind up under the same blanket as you got sleepier.

"do you know that belief?" he asked, glancing at you as you walked. "what koreans say about first snow?"

you looked over to him. "no," you said shortly, switching to korean. "what is it?"

he laughed, but continued in english. "they say that if you're with someone during the first snow of the year, you'll stay together for a long time."

you stopped in your tracks, and he only made it two steps in front of you before he turned, looking at you questioningly. "together?"

he gave a short affirmation, blinking and looking away as he shifted his stance. "yeah, like-" he paused. "supposedly, if you confess during the first snow, it's good luck. or something like that."

you stared at him, studying his eyes as he avoided your gaze, a tiny smile creeping across your face. "josh."

he looked at you, eyebrows quirked. "w'sup?"

you giggled. "are you talking about us right now?"

"oh, are you confessing to me?" he asked, eyes wide and making you laugh as he slowly closed the short distance between you. "confessing during the first snow, wow. you must really like me. y'know, i always kind of thought you had a crush on me."

you rolled your eyes. "yet it took you four months to mention it?"

his nose scrunched up as he grimaced apologetically. "i'm sorry for making you wait," he said, quietly and in korean, close enough that you felt his breath on your skin. you just shook your head at him.

"i made you wait, too."

he looked between your eyes, and you couldn't help but feel like the snow was melting around you from his warm you felt. "can i kiss you yet?"

you let out a breathy giggle, enjoying the way his eyes creased as he smiled at you. "of course you can."

this moment, joshua realized, was one that he had imagined a million times in his head. in a million different scenarios throughout the last four months, he had imagined how incredible it would be to feel your lips against his. and when he finally found himself there, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he pulled you into him, the first snow of the year falling around you, he realized he had imagined it all wrong. because despite thinking that you definitely had the most beautiful lips that he could ever press his to, he had not accounted for the fact that you were smiling, and he was too, and that made them the sweetest. the most fun. the most exciting.

and he hoped you would let him keep kissing you for a long time.

[hawksugarbaby]

Bakudeku- tongue tied

Lime + Tattoo/piercer Au

A/N: TO BE CLEAR. I don't ship toxic bakugo who told Deku to kill himself with baby deku who can't stand up for himself. I ship emotionally mature, developed, redeemed bakugo who is helping deku become a hero (more evidence in the manga than anime right now) with a strong independent deku who can stand on his own feet now.

It was a slower day for the parlour today than typical but this early in the year less people were interested in getting tattoos or piercings since it was cold and people would be wearing fleecy layer over layer and covering every stretch of skin on their bones to keep warm. What was the point in permanently altering a part of you if most of you was covered up?

Of course the tattoo side of the department had it harder than the piercing side as the piercers had enough options on the face and ears to keep them going. And that was where the great Katsuki Bakugo came into play. Hovering around the parlour like a moth waiting for the lights to flicker on, the annoying buzz of his angry voice that never shut up infiltrating Izuku's ears without of a choice making him unwillingly blush whenever he said anything that caught the freckled boy off guard.

The blonde barged into the shop like he owned the place and tapped his foot at the front desk ringing the bell for service continuously until someone paid attention to him. Izuku looked at his colleagues who all turned around and pretended to work, drawing scribbles on their page for new designs which looked like toddlers artwork until it was refined and then, if they felt like it, coloured.

The green haired boy stood begrudgingly from his desk and sauntered over to the front desk to greet his most common customer. "Afternoon Kacchan" he faked a smile and ran his hand through his curly emerald locks grabbing a pen from the pot, flicking the cap off so forcefully it flew across the room like a rocket for someone else to deal with. "It's evening deku" he argued and leaned his bulging arms on the counter smiling irritatingly at izuku. "Sure whatever. What are you here for" he asked, chewing the end of his pencil and glancing from the blonde's face to his muscular arms without a second thought.

Bakugo stuck his tongue out laying it flat against his chin and stared seductively into Izuku's green eyes. His face lit up red and he closed his eyes ignoring the taller man's angry flirtations. "A t-tongue piercing then?" he stuttered, turning around to face the wall and scribble on the clipboard. "Date of birth" he asked, not looking back at the angry customer being ignored by the reason he was there in the first place. "20th of april 2037" "making you 22" Izuku muttered filling in the information on the sheet. He knew Bakugo's phone number and email by heart by now, in case the courage ever took over to message him.

"Sign here" izuku said, turning and handing the clipboard to bakugo who was cracking his fingers as if it was a time killer and pointed to the line for bakugo to sign his loopy name on. For such an aggressive personality his handwriting was saccharine, it felt ungenuine watching the way his wrist flicked so smoothly with each curve connecting every consonant and vowel. "Can I get a hole in my tongue now or?" he asked placing the board on the desk and leaving the question open ended.

"Is everyone else busy!?" izuku shouted to his coworkers who all shouted yes back not wanting to deal with bakugo's attitude when he wasn't being pierced or tattoo'd by izuku. Izuku didn't have a problem around Bakugo, the problem arose when he couldn't focus on the work because his customer was seemingly attempting to seduce the poor artist. His insistence to be with Izuku was also an issue because god forbid he be with another customer when he came in, the indistinguishable groan when he was told to wait was enough to make the customers waiting to book flee the establishment.

"I guess it'll have to be me then" he sighed and walked to the back of the shop expecting bakugo to just follow behind (which he did). Izuku spun a wide leather seat towards the blonde and slapped the seat making a loud thump and he rolled his neck cracking the bones like loud enough you'd assume they broke. "Y'know for someone who's done this too me a bunch of time's i thought i'd know you better" bakugo sighed slumping into the seat while Izuku stretched a pair of latex gloves over his thick fingers, pinging the band against his wrist then pulling the other one on fiddling with the blue rubber.

Izuku his his blooming cheeks unable to tell if bakugo meant for his words to have a double meaning or if Izuku's mind was just all the way in the gutter. "What could you possibly want to know?" he grumbled looking to bakugo from his peripherals. The red eyed male fiddled with his ash blond locks of hair trying to spike them back up but they were flopping down and plastering to his forehead. Izuku's mini studio was ludicrously warm for the beginning of the year when it's supposed to still be winter, but his box felt like a trip to hawaii! "I dunno, why'd you start tattooing and piercing and shit" he asked gulping nervously at the needles laying out on the metal counter.

Izuku turned with the clamp looped on his fingers, a sure way to shut him up and scooted his own chair forward. "Tongue out" he ordered and bakugo smirked leaning forward "very demanding of y-" Izuku rolled his eyes and caught bakugo's tongue while his mouth was open talking and pulled it out by the clamp. "Eenngg! he huuh?" ("heey! The fuck?") bakugo began to gripe incoherently and izuku pressed harder making bakugo gasp and wave his hand "eh ehh ohay ohay" ("eh ehh okay okay"). He stopped attempting to talk but rested his warm hand's just above izuku's knee's making the green haired boy burn pink.

He fiddled with the needle and held his hands in front of him until they stopped shaking and held the clamp firmly grasped on bakugo's tongue "I started tattooing because my mum was struggling with money and I wanted to help her so I found an apprenticeship. Piercing just came easy after tattooing" izuku explained thinking about his mothers partially impressed, mostly shocked when izuku came home with his first tattoo. But she never stopped him if it was what he enjoyed. "Then you became obsessed with me and now I can't leave" he chuckled.

Bakugo's eye's rounded at the sound of Izuku's sweet laugh he'd never heard before. He would have smiled if he could have but there was a needle encroaching slowly. The tip of the sharp metal balanced on his tongue and izuku checked the placement again and nodded to himself "okay i'm going to count to 3 and on three take a deep breath through your nose okay" he quirked an eyebrow and the blonde nodded hesitantly.

"Okay 1... 2... 3 deep breath" he instructed and katsuki inhaled sharply as the needle went through the pink flesh a tiny dribble of blood and izuku switched in the jewellry so quick bakugo hadn't even realised the needle went through. "And you're done. You can exhale now by the way," izuku said, keeping the clamp on his tongue for longer than he needed to just for the satisfaction of silence but of course he had to take it off sooner rather than later.

"Did' ethen hur. Fuck i hath a lithp" he rolled his eye's and wiped away the drool at the corner of his mouth. "Hard to be sexy with a lisp," Izuku threw him an icy bottle of water he barely caught before the words caught up to him. "You think i'm thexy?" "not right now I don't" he laughed and sat back in the chair leaning over the back and hanging his arms over the armrest. "In about 5 minutes when your not afraid of moving your tongue, probably" he glimpsed at the blushing blonde and sighed. "Not afraid" he mumbled "then why do you have a lisp?"

Silence.

"Exactly." izuku retorted quickly and pushed bakugo into the leather seat climbing onto it himself and sitting between bakugo's thighs and grabbing his face. "I hate you you know that" the green haired male pushed bakugo's hair out of his face giving him a clear view of his sparkling red eye's and leaned into him pressing his soft lips against bakugo's rough, cracked ones. Bakugo's hand's hovered around izuku but izuku's gloved hands pushed them down so they rested on his waist gently.

He kissed back softly trying to pull izuku back so neither were in danger of falling of the chair and nothing could be heard except the heavy breathing and their hearts hammering rapidly in their ears. Izuku pulled away resting his forehead against bakugo who was intoxicated by his lips. "I really hate you" the freckled boy muttered and put his hands on bakugo's chest separating them slightly. "Can I come back for a tattoo?" bakugo mumbled not sure what to say and Izuku snorted sliding off the chair and standing up putting his blue gloves in the bin. "Just a tattoo?" he flirted and bakugo, still trying to reboot his brain just blinked and nodded dumbfoundedly.

"Sure come back for a tattoo" izuku laughed and showed him to the door trying too brush his hair down so he wouldn't draw any attention from his coworkers. Bakugo finally formed coherent thoughts and at the door leaned next to izuku's ear "you know why I really got my tongue pierced?" izuku shook his head and bakugo dug his hand into his pocket pulling out a pill sized piece of metal and held it in front of izuku's eye's. Clicking a button on his phone it started to buzz lightly and izuku shoved him out the shop. "GO. NOW. HERE'S YOUR CARE PACKAGE" he shouted shoving a small poly-bag in his hands and slamming the door shut behind him, hard enough an earthquake line ran up the glass.

His brunette coworker bounced up to him, "SOOO" her sweet voice started and izuku shoved her away jokingly. "Get away!"

[ficklewish]

Beneath the Mask

Kuroo Tetsuro x Reader

Word count: 1.1k

Genre: Fluff with a side of crack

Prompt: "it's 3am, why are you at my window"

a/n: this is part of a collab with a discord server I'm in! 🥰 Be sure to check out everyone else's work! Also, I recommend listening to Beneath the Mask while reading, which is a persona 5 song~

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・゜

10:30 pm

You had just gotten home from a long day at work, and you were so so very tired, and all you wanted to do was sleep. However, you knew that you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, as you had made the smart decision to drink coffee a few minutes ago. Knowing that sleep was a no go tonight, you booted up your PS4, ready to play Persona 5 Royal until you tire yourself out. (y'all should play it, it SLAPS) Of course, you took small breaks through playing to use the restroom or to get a snack. Thinking back to what happened in your day, you wondered why today was so tiring. There were no bad customers, it was a slow day, your coworkers weren't doing too much for once, and all the machines worked. It was even better that your best friend and long time crush, Kuroo, had come in and ordered. Of course, he talked to you all the while, and you couldn't stop blushing because of him. Maybe you were just tired due to taking the night shift. Shaking the thought away, you just tried to relax a bit now by playing your game. Or at least you tried to, as you heard a small tap on your window. Getting a bit spooked, you turned towards the window, hoping to see what it was. Only seeing the branches from the tree right outside it, you turn back to your game, paying it no mind. The taps had continued, growing a bit louder each time, and you began to grow paranoid. 

'What if it's not the tree branch? What if someone is trying to get my attention to break in? What if-'

Your train of thought was stopped short as you heard a loud smack on your window, louder than before, and then one last one, that caused your window to break. Forgetting about your fear, you grew angry, and went to look out your window. Down below, was a shocked looking Kuroo, who seems to have realized what he's done. 

"H-hey, Y/N…"

"Don't hey me Kuroo, you broke my window! Besides, it's 3 am, why are you at my window?!"

You could see him slightly wince at the mention of the window. 

"I didn't think it would break! You weren't answering when I was throwing small rocks, so I thought they weren't loud enough and threw bigger ones."

"Y'know, for being a chemistry major, you're really small brained sometimes Kuroo."

The guilty look on his face quickly changed into a smirk. That same damn smirk that you fell in love with. You hated it, but you loved it. You could feel the confidence oozing off of Kuroo. 

"Oh? So you acknowledge that I'm smart?"

"Hush, would a smart chemistry major throw larger rocks at a window?"

"I'm a chemistry major, not a physics one."

Rolling your eyes, you usher Kuroo to your front door, signaling that the door would be open for him. You see him start jogging to your door, so you quickly run to it and unlock it, heading towards the kitchen to give him a quick snack as it was pretty late into the night, and knowing him, he most likely forgot to eat something small before coming to your home. Slicing up a few strawberries and putting them in a bowl, you hold onto it as you hear the door open. 

"Honey, I'm home~."

Kuroo takes off his shoes as you walk towards him, and it was then that you noticed the bouquet of flowers he was holding. You blushed at the thought of him getting them for you, but brushed the thought aside, not wanting to get your hopes up. Now in front of him as he finished taking off his shoes, Kuroo looks at you, then hands the bouquet to you. Looking at the bouquet of pink and red camellias, you take them, and look back up at Kuroo. 

"For me?"

"Who else?"

A fierce blush had taken over your face, and you smelled the flowers in an attempt to hide it. Unfortunately, Kuroo had noticed it before you could hide it, and a small smirk had adorned his face, but for your dignity, he pretended to not notice, and instead turned his attention to the small bowl of strawberries. 

"My strawberries."

Snatching the bowl from your hand while you calmed yourself down, you put the bouquet on the kitchen table and faced Kuroo. 

"So, what brings you here Kuroo?"

"You looked really out of it while you were working, I thought I could help bring you back. 

"At 3 am?"

"I was planning for 9 pm, but I fell asleep."

You blinked once, shook your head, and then gestured for him to follow you to your room. Sitting on your bed, you forgot that you were still playing Persona 5, but decided to leave it on as the current soundtrack playing was soothing. Kuroo sits a bit away from you, the strawberries finished, and he just…stares at you. Becoming self conscious of how you look, you shift in place. 

"W-what? Is there something on my face?"

"Yeah…don't move."

Kuroo places a hand on your cheek and leans in, and you close your eyes and hope he can't see the blush on your face. You feel his thumb swipe over your bottom lip, and you slightly crack open your left eye. You see Kuroo move his face towards yours, his head slightly tilted to the side. 

'Wait, is he gonna kiss me? Shit I'm not ready, my breath probably stinks. What if I mess up? What if it's bad? WHAT IF HE'S NOT-'

Your train of thought is cut short when you feel something warm on your lips. Your eyes flew open, and you saw Kuroo directly in front of you, eyes closed and his lips on yours. They were soft and warm, you couldn't help but melt into it, kissing him back. He pulls away too soon for your tastes, but you decide to leave it be. Opening your eyes, you stare at him and he stares back. The music in the background created a comfortable atmosphere, so comfortable in fact, that you blurted out what first came to mind. 

"You're pretty Kuroo…"

He cackles, his iconic hyena laugh bouncing off the walls of your room. You begin to laugh with him, his laughter contagious. After calming down, Kuroo takes you into his arms and falls back onto your bed, his chin resting on the top of your head. It felt as though you were on a cloud, a warm fuzzy cloud. 

"You know you're gonna have to pay for the window, right?"

"Ah, fuck."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・゜

a/n: jebrbeb I hate how this turned out 😔 please check out everyone else's work from this collab!

[pebblerobber]

A little Twisted (Chapter 3)

Chapter One: The King | Chapter Two: The Collection | Chapter Three: Pet

Co written w/ @desertdwellerdanny

Steve had spent most of the night cutting the body into pieces and burying different parts of it in the woods since it was Billy’s first kill; Steve decided not to put it on display for the world to see it.

It took hours of cutting, hacking at flesh, driving, and digging; Steve was exhausted.

Working a full day’s work than covering up a murder was a lot for a Tuesday night. Steve had called in sick at work just before hopping into the shower, washing the dried blood and dirt from his skin. He would have to burn all their clothes and clean his car, but it was a task for later.

Now, though, he had an anomaly getting ready to sleep in his guest bedroom. It was late, but as he walked in, muddy boots and reddened shirt, Billy stepped out of his room to stare. He stood quietly, leaning against the doorframe of the room and taking in Steve’s state of dishevelment. “Thank you.”

Steve had just finished leaving the voice mail for his father, seeing Billy standing there in his shirt to cover up the scars that lined his body. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Steve asked as he slid his phone back into his pocket, removing the leather gloves he was wearing, caked in mud.

Billy shrugged, head tilting onto the frame, too. “Heard you come in.”

Steve stared at Billy for a bit, wondering if he even slept while he was gone. "You should sleep," Steve mumbled as he walked into his bedroom.

He heard footsteps behind him as Billy followed after, quick on his heels. “What’d you do to him? Did you feed him to dogs?”

Steve let out a sigh as he removed his blood-stained t-shirt. "I cut up his body into pieces and spread it all over Hawkins Forest far away from here."

Billy was quiet behind him. Steve turned, expecting a shocked or horrified expression but instead found Billy’s lips pulling into a small smile. “You’re fuckin genius,” he paused, “what about his fingerprints? They do that now, y'know. Seen it on the news.”

Maybe having someone under his wing wasn't as fun as he thought. Steve rubbed his eyes before placing his shirt in the bag of other clothes he needed to burn. 

"Fingerprints are only good if they have a criminal record," Steve groaned, grabbing Billy’s hand tracing cuts with his fingers "but, you can use a knife and cut open the fingertips here and here."

Billy’s eyebrows pulled together, looking down at their joined hands, “How do you know he doesn’t have a criminal record? I doubt I was the first he tried to attack. He was a sinner.”

"I know a cop; he gives me access to records sometimes…" Steve held onto Billy's hand, not really wanting to let go of his soft skin. "Listen, criminal justice sucks; guys like me don't get caught, guys like him, same thing." 

“I caught him,” Billy said quietly, focusing on the gentle drag of Steve’s skin on his, the touch oddly anchoring, “He’s never going to hurt anyone ever again because of me.”

Steve chuckled; Billy could hear the exhaustion in the back of Steves’s throat. "You’re doing their job for them.”

“Maybe. If they did it themselves, I wouldn’t have to.” Billy hummed, reaching up to lightly push at Steve’s chest, “You’re tired.”

Steve lost his footing, exhaustion pulling at his limbs and nearly falling over. “Well, stop asking so many questions.” Steve groaned, giving him an equally as gentle push back before walking to the bathroom. God, he needed a shower.

“It’s exciting.” Billy shrugged, not moving much from the push, “And you look good covered in blood anyway.” 

Steve stopped in the doorway, placing his hand on the frame as he looked back at Billy with a smirk. “I know.”

The sheer confidence, the grin that felt like Billy was trapped in a feral wolf, it ignited something in him. He didn’t get the chance to act on it, though, Steve winking and closing the door firmly behind him.

“Get some sleep, Billy,” Steve called from the other side of the door as he started the shower, craving the heat to soothe his aching muscles.

Billy could hear the water running through the house’s pipes, the only other sound in his room being the crickets outside of his window. He was tucked up under the covers, mind carefully replaying the night’s events in his head while the fan spun in a comforting whirl above him.

He was officially, undeniably, a murderer. The odd thing was that he didn’t feel particularly bad about it—if anything, Billy felt that he did something good. The murder was warranted. If he hadn’t killed that man, he’d have just found another slew of victims. At least this way, Billy gave the man a chance to be redeemed, to die and repent.

Sleep pulled at his eyelids, the emotional and physical upheaval of today taking its toll on him. Billy tugged gently on the St. Julian the Hospitaller pendant he always kept around his neck and turned to bury himself further into the sheets. Everything was taken care of, Steve having finished tying up loose ends, so there really wasn’t much more to do than sleep. Billy had done a good thing tonight.

Steve had woken up to himself, grinding his hips into the mattress, his cock hard and aching. He usually only woke up like this after taking a life, not cleaning up like some housekeeper. 

A groan escaped his lips as his hips had a mind of their own moving into the mattress at a steady pace. Why did he feel like this? What was about last night that left him so wanting? Steve thought about Billy, the smile, and how perfect he looked, covered in blood. 

The way Billy's eyes shined with that primal need when Steve was covered in the same blood. Fuck. Steve let out a moan--already so close to the edge without even touching himself. He buried his face into his pillow, trying to muffle the groans as he came thinking of him, of Billy. What was wrong with him. Before Steve could put much thought into it, his doorbell rang, and his head shot up FUCK. 

Steve jumped out of bed, nearly falling over in the surprise of someone coming here at all. He ripped off his boxers and cleaned up the mess of slick cum off himself. Too bad he didn’t get to enjoy it more than he had. 

BUZZ

“Fuck I’m coming” Steve threw on his housecoat hanging behind his door, ready for moments like these. He jogged down the hall, trying to rush so the noise didn’t wake his sleeping doll in the guest room. 

“Open the door, Dingus!” A voice called on the other side--Robin. “Ugh, the timing,” Steve groaned; having to put on his human “mask” was annoying when he had barely slept. He opened the door seeing her holding coffee and donuts in her hands. 

“Wow, you look like shit” She laughed,

“What are you doing here?” Steve whispered, still trying to be quiet. The last thing he wanted was Billy to meet his work life. “I heard you called in sick, so did I,” Robin pushed through him to get into the house--which annoyed the fuck out of Steve--but he forced a laugh, trying to keep up appearances.

Steve heard the quiet creaking of floorboards behind him, the slightest indication that Billy was, in fact up but hadn’t come out quite yet. Maybe checking that this wasn’t the police squad coming to send him away. Robin was still blissfully unaware, until the blond curled menace himself stepped out in little else but a pair of boxers and one of Steve’s shirts he had borrowed the night prior.

“And who is this gorgeous little lady?” Billy purred, cocky confidence in each step he took toward them. Fucking hell, this is a disaster.

When Robins’s attention was moved to Billy, Steve glared at him, his face changing from a puppy dog back to the cold hard stare Billy was used to. “Oh, Robin, Steve’s coworker” She pushed the tray of coffees into Steve’s hand. “Who might you be?” Her voice was dripping with curiosity, which sparked some kind of jealous burn in Steve’s chest for some reason.

“A nobody that showed your coworker a good time,” he paused, smouldering eyes on her, “Robin,” Billy repeated, the name said with obvious promise.

Robin raised her eyebrow at Billy when she looked back at Steve, who just looked ever so confused. Honestly, Billy’s idea was flawless, and Steve was pretty proud of him for coming up with a cover-up story on the fly like that. “You fucked this idiot?” Robin pointed at Steve, who looked offended as all hell. “Hey, what the hell do you mean!” Steve slapped her hand away. “You're just jealous I can get laid!” “Oh, don’t go there, Steve!” Robin gasped, “You know I just broke up with Tammy!”

Billy’s eyes flicked between the two—lingering on Steve and his rather abrupt personality change. There was a silent exchange between the two of them before Billy turned his attention back to Robin and gave a salacious grin, “I did actually fuck that idiot, thank you. Or rather, he fucked me. He’s a charmer.”

Steve swallowed hard at just the thought; with how his morning went, it's all he could really think about. "Thank you…" Steve said submissively, giving Robin a shy smile

Robin laughed, “Well, either way," Robin pulled out her coffee from the tray and handed the coffee to Billy. "Here—a coffee. I'm going to go because this is getting weird." 

Steve let out a sigh of relief. "I'll see you tomorrow at work; thanks for everything."

Billy snorted a laugh, nodding his chin at her in thanks as she gave another wave and tease before leaving. He didn’t say much, turning back to Steve, taking a sip of the coffee, and raising his eyebrows in silent question.

After Steve closed the door, he rested his head on it, “Thank you for doing that” Steve looked over at him back to his blank stare that somehow had a little more life in it now that Billy had seen him mask himself.

“What—for pretending to know who the fuck you just acted like or for telling her I let you fuck me?” He took another amused sip of coffee, cocking his hip out.

Steve smiled; seeing Billy enjoy himself was very cute. “Both really, you just gave yourself an alibi.” Steve walked over to his couch, placing the donuts box on the table and taking a long drink of his coffee. He really did feel like shit.

“That was my original plan last night anyway. Getting fucked,” Billy hummed, nudging Steve over before sitting down on the arm of the couch and gingerly poking at Steve’s cheek, “You look like you haven’t slept in three years.”

Steve looked at him, just totally ignoring Billy poking fun at his looks. "Do you mean with me or just in general?"

Billy pressed his lips together in an attempt to poorly hide a smile, “In general. That’s why I went to the bar. Why? Did you want me to mean you?”

Steve took another sip of coffee, unsure he wanted to just out himself over wanting that really badly. "I'm naked under this robe, and I need to clean my sheets," Steve mumbled as he got up to leave.

This time Billy did laugh—loud and unabashed. He whipped out a hand and wrapped it tightly around Steve’s wrist, keeping him from leaving the conversation. “Oh really? Why naked? Why clean your sheets?” The wolfish grin on Billy’s face told Steve he knew precisely why.

"Let go," Steve said sharply; he didn't want to admit that he lost any type of control over himself.

Billy’s grin only got sharper, “Why?”

"I don't need to tell you why" Steve pulled his wrist, trying to get Billy to break the hold, but the blonde tightened his grip.

“But don’t you want to?” Billy hummed, putting his coffee down on the table and scooting closer in, a wild look in his eye like he was waiting for Steve to lash out. To get the real Steve Harrington after seeing him pretend to be someone so different.

 Steve did want to, and he honestly couldn't put his finger on why Billy made him lose control like this. Steve was good at deflecting things onto other people, and he had a plan to do it, but what came out of his mouth was not what he meant. 

"You don't want to have sex with me; I will ruin you." good job, Harrington.

“Maybe that’s exactly why I want to have sex with you.”

Steve stared into Billy's eyes, thinking about how maybe Billy would be okay. He already knows what Steve, the honest Steve and he's killed, someone…

"Still no—we’re not having sex.”

Billy let go of his arm, a red imprint left on his pale skin just from the grip he had. Maybe it’ll bruise. Perhaps he wants it to bruise.

“Yet.”

Steve rolled his eyes at Billy's overconfidence in that statement. It was rare he ever had sex, honestly; he had been going on two years of nothing but his hand. It didn't really bug him—until now. 

"Are you always like this?" Steve asked; it probably sounded ruder than he meant. "Ever since I helped you, it's all you seem to want to do is fuck me."

He just shrugged in response, “You helped me. You’re hot. I slept here, and you didn’t take advantage of me.”

Steve laughed, "I see; well, you don't have to do whatever this is." Taking a sip of his coffee.

Billy raised an eyebrow at him, “Don’t act like that’s not the whole reason you did it. It’s okay—I’m telling you you can fuck me.”

"You think I covered up a whole murder to fuck you?" Steve let out a disappointing sigh, "I did it because I want someone to teach and share my fucking hobby with! I'm tired of pretending to be normal, and you were interesting and fearless. I see myself in you, and I want to share this...gift."

This time it seemed he’d finally gotten through to Billy, his eyebrows pulling up in confusion and that pushy demeanour of his temporarily forgotten. “We can do that again? Do you want to do that again? With me?” He leant back, eyeing Steve, “I won’t kill for fun. They have to deserve it.”

Steve nodded, "Yes, I do, but it won't be for a while" Steve decided his sheets would wait and flopped on the couch, “and I need a nap…"

Billy slid down from his perch on the arm of the couch, lifting Steve’s legs to set on his lap. He reached over to pick his coffee back up and a donut. “Then take one. You deserve it.” Steve reached over to place his coffee on the table. "I still have stuff to do, though," Steve groaned.

“Like what? I’ll help.”

Steve looked over at Billy. "There is a bag of clothes from the two of us I need to burn, and I have to clean out my car."

“Easy. I’ll do it, and you can come to check your car in case I forgot something,” he nudged one of his feet, “You gotta sleep first, though. Or else you’ll miss all those pesky details.”

Steve kind of felt touched? No—happy that Billy wanted to do some of the small details for him. Maybe they would make a good team. But of course, Steve wouldn’t say that to Billy’s face just yet. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“Yeah yeah, don’t worry, old man, I clean up nice,” he joked, wiggling out from under Steve and stealing another donut on his way to where he’d seen him leave the cleaning supplies from last night. It shouldn’t be too hard...

Steve grabbed one of the throw pillows on the couch and put it under his head. He felt a little less on edge about getting everything done before cops started looking for someone to pin down for the murder.

He watched Billy leave, deep throating another doughnut before getting out of his view. Fuck, it was nice to have such a good pet.

[imaginesfubu]

Write a story about Mammon celebrating his first pay check with his gal!! If ya know what I mean

@tehwalkingpoptart Idk what you mean, cuz Mammon would have already spent his first check before calling up his girlfriend for some quality time. 💀😭 I hope it's okay if this story is fluff, because I'm actually at work while writing this. You're my second ask, but you did request something else before...So still my first ask...? Idk, but I hope you enjoy!

Payday: Fem!Reader x Mammon

Out of all the days you had to work, your coworker just had to quit at the very last minute. You hated that you got called in to Hedonist Cleaners, your part-time job that you picked up while living in the Devildom on your day off. You knew that you didn't necessarily have to work while living with Mammon and his brothers, but you insisted because you wanted to repay the demon brothers' kindness for allowing you to live with them during the exchange program.

Two hours. Two painfully long and boring hours before closing time. You looked at the clock impatiently, wishing you had the power to make time go by faster. It wouldn't have been so bad if you had another coworker to talk to, but since you didn't it made it all the more dull for you at the front counter.

Just when you were about to call your manager to ask if you could close the store early, you got a text message from your boyfriend Mammon.

"Hey, babe! Guess who just got PAID?"

Smiling to yourself at your boyfriend's text, you decided to humor him.

"I don't know, who?"

"Your first and only, ME the Great Mammon!"

"Lol, haha"

"So, I was thinkin' if maybe ya wanna go out when ya get off work tonight?"

You paused. You'd love to go, but you didn't bring a change of clothes. There's something about going out in your work uniform before or after hours that irritates you. Mainly it's because you don't want to represent your job when you're off the clock. A small portion of you found it lame even, but sometimes it can't be helped. But if it can...

"Sure, but I didn't bring a change of clothes...what did you have in mind?"

"It's a secret! 😋 Ah, n don't worry about wearin' ya work uniform, my human looks sexy in anythin' 😘"

A warm smile formed on your lips. Even though you and Mammon had been dating for about six months, you still get butterflies in your stomach; your heart still skips beats whenever Mammon shows you affection, and you always feel a happiness that is almost childlike whenever and wherever you spend time with your demon boyfriend.

"Anyway, I'll see ya at 8, babe! 😎"

You marked the text as "read," and went back into work mode the moment a customer walked into the store.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"So, where are we going?" You asked as you buckled your seatbelt in Mammon's car.

"[Y/N], babe, I said it was a secret. C'mon, can't I be a good boyfriend and keep just one lil secret?" Mammon smirked teasingly, causing you to blush and giggle.

"Okay, okay," you gave in with a laugh.

"Yes! Thanks, babe, ya won't regret it!"

As Mammon started up the car and pulled out of the driveway, worry and nervousness glazed over his features. Why? Because it was something out of their normal routine as a couple. Whenever you and Mammon went out for dates, it was either to the movies, eating at fancy restaurants where he was always short on cash, making you foot the remainder if not pay entirely, or simply getting in his sports car and go wherever the road takes them.

This idea of a date was a change of pace, but he didn't know if you would like it.

Mammon made a right turn onto a dirt road, away from the House of Lamentation. Now you were both very confused and very alert as you don't recognize the new path, leading deeper and deeper into the woods.

"Uh, hey, babe? Where exactly are we going?" You asked, trying not to allow your voice to falter.

Tried as you might, Mammon could sense your anxiety, but never took his eyes off the road. The Devildom's wilderness is unsettling to say the least at night to a human, but he knew where he was going. He was determined to protect you. Nothing was going to ruin what he had planned out.

"I love hearin the sound of ya voice, [Y/N], but we gotta stay quiet in this part of the woods," Mammon whispered with a serious tone his voice. It's a tone that you've never heard before coming from him, so you simply nodded and stayed quiet.

"See, if we make too much noise," Mammon whispered, "we'll be attracting danger to ourselves. Trust me, ya don't wanna know what lives out here and I don't feel like makin a mess here, ya know?"

You nodded again, with fear glimmering in your eyes. Mammon leaned over to the passenger side and gave you a quick peck on your cheek, refocusing his attention on the road.

Several minutes went by in tense silence, the only noise being the soft hum from the car engine. You looked up from your D.D.D and noticed you two were heading toward a clearing with a perfect view of the night sky, overlooking the palace of the Devildom, RAD, and other businesses and homes within the city.

As Mammon parked the car on the lookout, he turned to look at you, with a small blush appearing on his face.

"I know this ain't what we usually do for our dates, but I wanted us ta have a nice change of pace, y'know?" Mammon's blush deepened, with your own face reddening as your mind shamelessly wondered about the different scenarios lookout points usually end up. You mentally fought off your dirty thoughts as you focused on the Avatar of Greed, as he continued to stumble on his words.

"So-so, ta show that ya mean a lot ta me, I wanted our date here. 'Cause I wanted ya to know that all a this is yours when... when you're with me."

Mammon's blush deepened. "So, since I got paid, I wanna ask ya something. Come with me, please, [Y/N]," Mammon said nervously, as he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door. You did the same, and followed him to the edge of the cliff.

Before you knew it, Mammon went into his pants pockets and pulled out a small black box as he knelt down on one knee.

Your eyes widened as your placed both hands over your mouth, eyes threatening to create a waterfall.

"Babe no way, no way!" You shrieked in pure joy.

There, resting snugly in the ring's box was a beautiful silver engagement ring, with a medium-sized yellow diamond laying in a bed of small white diamonds.

"I think this is how you lowly humans propose ta each other. So uh, [Y/N], I really and truly love ya with everythin' I have. I don't get as greedy when I'm around ya; I'm only greedy for you and your love. Took me way too long to realize it for myself, but-"

"Ya damn right it took you forever, Mammon! And yes, I'll marry you!" You exclaimed with a laugh, stretching your right arm down toward Mammon as he slid the ring on your right ring finger.

You jumped into his arms the moment he stood upright, hugging and kissing each other passionately.

"I love ya, Mammon," you said softly as you parted from his lips, staying in his embrace.

"I love ya too, [Y/N]...For a lowly human."

You sucked your teeth and playfully hit him on his arm, laughing.

"So, uh...ya like these dates then?" Mammon asked sheepishly.

"Fine time of asking me now after all this! But yes, I don't mind being out here looking out over Devildom, so long as it's with you."

The two of you leaned back against the hood of the car, viewing the beautifully whimsical sky of the Devildom.

Karasu then flew overhead, shouting his congratulations to you while simultaneously clowning on Mammon and all that he stood for in his signature Karasu loving way.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Thanks for reading! Sorry this is so late, but I hope you like it! Between work and figuring out if I'm going back on campus took up most of my time, so I finally finished up while at work. Posting from my cell phone, please forgive me for any grammatical errors!

[quillreflections]

Title: Electric Blue

Chapter: 11/???

Series: Yugioh GX

Pairing: Chazz/reader

Are you hiding, somewhere behind those eyes?

The shrill ringing of your phone pierces through your skull, jarring you awake. You groan loudly. All your limbs feel like sand— sluggishly, you roll over, your pajamas sticking uncomfortably to your sweat-covered body.

Safe to say, you don't feel well.

For a moment, you grope blindly at your nightstand, trying to find your phone; when you don't find it quick enough, you crack an eye open, only to screw your eyes shut immediately. God, the light's far too bright, it'll cause a headache— well, a worse one than the phone has caused, anyways. Why won't it stop ringing?!

Finally, you find your phone, answering it just to stop that hellish sound.

"Hello?" Your voice is thick with sleep and something else.

"Hey, [Name], where are you?" Jaden's voice on the other end of the line.

"In bed. . . why, do you need me?" Your voice cracks somewhere in the middle.

"Well, it's not like you to miss class, so we just wondered—"

"Miss class?! What time is i—" you jolt upright, only to double over as a rough series of coughs tear their way out of your throat.

"Whoa, [Name], you don't sound too good," Jaden's voice trails off, and it sounds like he's relaying your condition to someone else. You take the chance to check the time— it's almost 10. You've missed a couple of classes, but there's still quite a few left; now that you're awake, might as well get going.

"I'm fine, it's just allergies," you assure him. "I'll see you guys at lunch." And before Jaden can argue, you've hung up on him, throwing yourself into the routine of getting ready.

Damn, you practically have to peel your pjs off, they're so soaked— and maybe it's just because you're in a rush, but you're a bit short of breath this morning, having to pause every few moments to rest. This is probably what you get for staying out in the cold with Chazz over Christmas.

☆☆☆

On one hand, the day feels like it's crawling by— you stumble into each class and then keep your eyes on the clock for each hour, knowing that you haven't retained a word of any of your lectures. But on the other hand, the day feels like it hasn't happened at all; your head feels like it's stuffed with cotton, and more than a few professors have gotten onto you about it today.

"—we'll go to the dueling field!"

The ends of your professor's statement finally register. The other students around you begin shoving their chairs back, pushing past each other, chattering excitedly. You're much slower to follow. When you try to stand, it feels like you're much heavier than normal. God, the room is spinning— you turn your head, trying to focus on one single point in the hopes that your vision will stop swimming. You move to climb the stairs leading to the exits, following all your classmates; somewhere on the edge of your hearing, you think that someone calls your name, but the ringing in your ears mounts and drowns out all other sounds. Your chest is heavy now too, and you're having to take deep breaths to get even a hint of air— hey, let's just rest for awhile.

☆☆☆

Chazz fidgets nervously as the professors recount their class roles; his class was pairing with yours for dueling practice, but he'd been searching the crowd since his group walked in, and he can't find you anywhere. When the professors look away, he pulls his PDA from his coat pocket and sends off a quick message. "Where the hell are you?"

When you don't respond, he turns to Bastion, who's standing next to him in the unorganized group of students. "Do you know where [Name] is?"

Bastion shakes his head. "Jaden said it sounded like she'd be in the rest of her classes, but our schedules don't intersect, so I haven't seen her. Why, is she not here either?"

Chazz anxiously looks back down at his PDA— no response. He's almost lost in his thoughts when Bastion nudges him, bringing his attention to the whispering professors a few steps away.

"She was in class when we started— maybe she got lost on the way?" Your professor turns from his coworkers and towards the milling students. "Can anyone go look for Miss [Name] quickly? She seems to have wandered off again!"

Immediately, Chazz throws his hand into the air— when he sees that several other boys have raised their hands to volunteer, he starts waving frantically and stretches up on his toes, doing his best to make sure he's seen. "Hey! If you don't give me permission, I'm gonna go anyways!"

The teachers chuckle, but nod at Chazz anyways, and then he's off like a shooting star. He vaguely remembers your class schedule for this semester; most courses are held in this particular building anyways, so even if he just pokes his head through classroom doorways, he should be fine.

Door after door, hall after hall, still no sign of you. Chazz snarls in frustration as he shoves open the door to yet another empty classroom.

"What the hell?!"

You're sprawled out on the stairs. Even from his spot in the doorway, Chazz can see that you're sweating heavily and struggling to breath— he stumbles over to you, dropping to his knees, grasping you by the shoulder and shaking you gently. "Hey, [Name], c'mon, this isn't funny—"

Your only response is a quiet moan. Chazz exhales, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to yours, only to immediately recoil— god, you're absolutely burning up. There's no way he's hauling you back to class like this. . . he considers calling someone else to help, but the idea of another man seeing you in such a vulnerable state doesn't sit right with him.

As carefully as possible, Chazz slides his arms under you, hoisting you up and holding you close. In your sleep, you whine, nuzzling closer to his chest— despite being so feverish, you shiver in his arms.

☆☆☆

When you finally open your eyes again, you're in a bed that you know isn't your own. You blink a few times, bringing one hand up to rub the sleep from your eyes; everything's white and sterile, and you can only assume you're in the infirmary? Slowly you sit up— ugh, everything aches. What happened?

"You need to take care of yourself too," a voice drifts through the curtains surrounding your bed.

"I'm fine, I want to stay here!" 

Ah, that's a voice you recognize.

"Chazz?" Your own voice is fragile and barely above a whisper, but clearly it's enough; the curtains swish aside, and he steps into your small room, concern painted over his face.

"God, you're so stupid," are the first words spilling from his mouth. Despite that, he smiles, although it's frail— he settles himself in the metal chair by your bedside, reaching out to grab your hand, squeezing tightly. "You should've just stayed in bed, dumbass."

"I. . . felt bad, knowing someone was worried." You shrug awkwardly, wishing you could put more into your voice. "Jaden sounded really concerned, and I did really feel fine—"

"Liar." Chazz scoffs. "And hey—" he stares you down for a moment, the tips of his ears turning red. He averts his eyes before continuing. "I'm always gonna be worried for you anyways, y'know. So like, try to avoid scaring me next time, damn."

You chuckle, but it quickly devolves into a coughing fit; Chazz lets go of your hand and leans closer, rubbing soothing circles on your back instead. Once you catch your breath, you also catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall— it's nearly midnight. You whirl to face him, anxiety visible on your face.

"It's so late! You need to go back and rest too!"

Chazz almost laughs— you'd been unconscious for nearly eight hours, and you're worried about him? He leans back in his chair and crosses his legs, smirking at you. "I'm staying here with you until you're better. Needing me and wanting me are two different things."

You can feel your face heating up under his gaze. Slowly you lay back down, pulling the thin infirmary blankets up in the hopes of capturing some heat. You're glad your voice is so weak at this point, because maybe he won't hear you. "I— want you and I need you, y'know."

Then you roll over and try to steady your breathing, pretending you're asleep, hoping he didn't hear that entirely. Chazz leans back in his chair, hoping he did hear it properly.

[rip I was hoping to get this posted on his birthday but things happened so it's a day late oops lmao]

[stevie-writes-the-pain-away]

Alcoholics Anonymous - Chapter Seven

       "Good morning, princess."

       I smiled at his text, replying back with tired eyes. "Good morning, princey."

       Murdoc had texted just a few minutes after my 6:00am alarm. I was finishing my breakfast when he messaged back and I placed my dishes in the sink. "Plans today?"

       "Working from eight to five at the café, you?"

       "Damn, I'm heading into work as well. Perhaps I could visit during my lunch break?"

       "Haha, I don't see why not."

       I began to wash my dishes, including Cassidy's leftover breakfast as well. I put them away one after the other and carried on my usual morning routine. I had a quick shower and fixed my hair, putting on my uniform before brushing my teeth. I got back to Murdoc's text as I headed out the door. "Then I can't wait." It made my morning.

       Despite working in London, this café didn't get any busy days. Surprisingly, the busiest days we got were on Saturdays and I didn't even work a lot then, so I never really saw how many costumers typically stopped by. There were usually three workers at a time, leaving me plenty of shifts to get in extra hours if I wanted and wasn't too busy with my other jobs. My manager wondered if I could juggle three jobs at a time but she didn't know how desperate I was for both money and distraction. From many, many things.

       I worked as both a cashier and waitress at the café. I even stocked shelves a few times, but there were never many shelves to stock considering how small the place was. It was a simple desk with one register, a display case, and only five tables, not including the front window where we kept the highchairs. That's probably why I loved it so much. I actually got paid well enough to stand and not do much of anything most of the time.

       "Hey, (Y/N)," I heard from behind me. I turned to find my coworker setting a box down and turning into the other room, most likely to get another one.

       "Hey, Lawerence."

       He came back out, stacking boxes of food for me to show off. "How're your other jobs doing?" He was a lanky green-eyed kid with long brown locks and warm, pink skin drowning in countless freckles. He was only twenty and he just started working a few months ago. We talked every now and then but it never went anywhere, I couldn't even call each other friends yet. You could say he was your stereotypical hipster if I'm being honest.

       "They're alright, but you know this shift's my favourite for obvious reasons," I said, struggling to converse.

       He smiled at me, looking out at the empty tables with understanding. "Well, nobody else was able to come in, so would you mind stocking these while I fetch a few more boxes?"

       "No problem," I smiled.

       I had many opportunities to make friends around me, but none who I thought would want to deal with me. We could hang out until they found out about my drinking problem and soon enough, I would be alone again; like everyone I knew before I hit rock bottom. But meeting somebody from the clinic who actually understood the struggle of quitting really lifted a weight from my shoulders. When I went into work I felt like it was another job to try and make friends, but I finally knew I didn't have to do anything apart from the actual job I was being paid to do. I just had to keep at it and be respectful, which made me feel a lot better realizing.

       I spent the next few hours charging and serving customers, putting things away little by little as Lawerence worked in the back. "(Y/N)! Help me lift something!"

       I turned on my heel and walked through the back to give Lawerence a hand when I heard somebody walk through the front door, the same familiar bell notifying our assistance. Lawerence and I hauled the box towards the front and I glanced back, "I'll be right there!"

       As I set our items on the ground, I heard a familiar voice address me. "(Y/N)?" I could hear him smiling. I instantly straightened my back and looked across the other side of the counter.

       "Murdoc!" I exclaimed with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

      "What? Thought I was joking when I said I'd come see ya?"

       All I did was smile and lean on my folded arms. "Would you like to order anything?"

       "Just a large black coffee," he said. I placed the order and handed him his cup.

       "3.50."

       "Aww, you're not gonna give it for free?"

       "Nah, I'd rather keep my job, but maybe some other time," I smiled.

       He chuckled and pulled out change from his pocket, leaving me to count it for him. He left me at my station to get his drink and on his way to his table, he leaned against the counter. "You're free to join me for lunch," he said.

       Looking up at him I sighed. "Not sure if that's very professional," I winced.

       "Who cares about profession," he rolled his eyes. "Nobody's here, anyway."

       I shook my head slowly and gave in, picking a muffin from the glass case beside me and following him to the table at the very back. He pulled out a chair for me and I laughed at his gentlemanly behaviour, sitting down. He took his seat across from me and sipped his coffee. I wondered how one could ever stomach black coffee but figured asking would be pointless. "How did you know where I worked?"

       "Told me the last night," he answered.

       "Right," I corrected myself. The night before was a blast. Murdoc's vision of a hangover cure was multiple glasses of water, juice and caffeine with sunglasses and a movie marathon. I couldn't pay attention to any of the classics that played, they were simply playing in the background as Murdoc and I conversed, telling each other about ourselves. I learned a lot about him; his religion, what interests him, random facts. He told a lot of stories, too, and I didn't remember the last time I had laughed so hard with somebody. Whenever it was my turn to speak, I felt bad. I didn't have anything to say but he still seemed almost hypnotized by anything I said. I didn't understand his patience, but I was grateful. "What've you done today?"

       "Helped a few people think of lyrics and what-not." I watched him shift his cup, focused on the coffee stirring around inside.

       "Is that an everyday thing? Are you a producer?"

       "Oh, no, I'm nobody important," he said. "All I do is organize files, as I said before."

       "Oh, come on, organizing files is just as important as writing the lyrics."

       Murdoc chuckled, taking another sip of his coffee. "I guess it can be," he gave in. "What about you? How long have you worked here?"

       "Not long, actually. I've had quite a few jobs before the ones I have now. I've only worked here for about a year."

       Murdoc nodded and it became quiet between us. "Ever thought of getting out of here?" he asked.

       "A lot . . . a lot, a lot, a lot . . . Never had the money to, though." I didn't consider where the question came from, so out of the blue like that. All I could think of was how strong of an answer I had. Nearly every second - morning, noon, night - I would contemplate the day I'd finally leave London, England and start over somewhere else; somewhere fresh and new and away from all the poor memories I made in that Hell hole. "What about you?"

       "Plenty . . . I've actually been quite a few places," Murdoc answered.

       "Really?" I replied with interest. "Where?"

       "All over Europe, America . . . Even visited Canada and Asia a few times . . . It was a job thing."

       "I never knew you had a travelling job," I said. I began to daydream, wondering what it was like for him to get around so much. It must've been amazing checking out different landscapes and cultures, meeting new people everywhere you went.

       "Yep, I've even spent months overseas . . . far away from here. Though travelling gets a little bothersome nowadays." I snapped out of my daze, confused at how bored he could get hopping from one country to another that much. "I-I mean, I'm grateful, of course, but there's the packing and airports and bumpy roads and difficult weather . . ." he rambled.

       "Damn . . ." I sighed. "I don't think I could ever not be excited to leave and voyage all over the world."

       "Maybe I'll bring you with me eventually and you can see for yourself how stressful touring can be," Murdoc chuckled.

       I laughed back, shaking my head. "I've never been on a plane before . . . and I don't remember the last time I went on a boat," I said, biting my lip with a sudden nervous whole in my stomach.

       "It may seem scary at first, but it's actually pretty fun. It's pretty luxurious," he smirked. "Y'know, people bring you appetizers and beverages, you can listen to music, watch a movie . . . And if you're brave, you can look out the window and look at the breathtaking view," he expressed.

       I smiled at his appreciation of nature, trying to picture all the recollections he was remembering. I couldn't help but feel a strong urge to be apart of his journey. "How long have you been home?"

       Murdoc took a second to think about it, "A few years. Um . . . The band I mainly worked with took a little hiatus so I haven't been working a lot lately. They've gotten around to seeing each other, however, so I'm beginning to help them more and more with songs . . . It'll be a bummer when I leave again, though."

       "What, you're not ready to take a lavish cruise around the world again?"

       Murdoc chuckled to me, "It's not that . . . Touring isn't even all it's cracked up to be." His smirked faded, "I'm just not ready to . . . I don't know . . . Leave what's comfortable, I suppose."

       My smile dropped the slightest, but I still tried to remain bright. "What'll you be missing when you're gone?"

       "As much as I hate to admit it . . . you know me," he added, ". . . but therapy . . . It's more helpful and not as stupid of an idea as I always imagined . . . It's actually pretty eye-opening to listen to others who go through what you go through, y'know?" I nodded, remembering back to last night. Murdoc had expressed a lot about himself, including his self-aware stubbornness, ignorance and tendencies to lack cooperation; and therapy was no exception. "I'd also miss you . . ."

       "M-me?" I questioned with surprise. Murdoc looked up with a rather nervous expression but quickly smirked at my response. "I-I mean . . ."

       He laughed, holding up his mug, "I honestly don't think I've met somebody who understands me more . . . It's nice having friends that listen to you, of course, but bonding with somebody who really gets it hits differently." I sat in near awe, trying to blink the surreal feeling out of my head. "Thanks for that," he concluded. This was very hard for me to process - somebody like Murdoc acting so out of character he felt like a totally new person. "I may be a reserved man, but I know how to show gratitude and thanks," he said, catching onto my bewilderedness. "Though, I barely tell anybody that cheesy bullshit about therapy and friendship, let alone act so soft, so don't think this corny stuff is staying." That would explain a lot, I told myself.

        We were startled by a sudden bell ringing, started both me and Murdoc. Conditioned stimulus rose my head to the door, causing me to shoot up from my spot in alarm. "I-I'm sorry, I've gotta . . ." I said, pointing to my next costumer. Murdoc excused me with a shrug and I quickly made my way over to the cash register, apologizing for my absence and serving the consumer before they left. I looked back at Murdoc who had risen from his seat and made his way over to me.

       "I should probably head out," he said, leaning towards the exit. "I'll see you soon though, I hope," he smiled.

       "Yeah, sure," I smiled back.

       He gave me a small wave and I couldn't help but laugh. "Farewell," he said, leaving through the door.

       I walked home after my shift completely exhausted and a disgusting sweaty mess. I entered my apartment, proceeding to make myself supper in time for Cassidy to be home as well.

       "I saw a recipe for chicken with a red wine sauce," she texted me.

       I gave in, "Sure thing :)." I'd just have chicken without the sauce, it's as simple as that. Although pulling out wine from under the sink was tempting, to say the least, I knew it wasn't worth it. I ignored my shaking bones and swallowed my drool, preparing our dinner.

       Ever since I met Cassidy I always pondered if she knew about my addiction. Even if there was never any closure, there were definitely signs and hints towards my unhealthy relationship with drinking, and I knew she wasn't dumb enough to ignore red flags, right?

       The front door abruptly opened, disturbing my peace as I spun around with panic. "Hey, (N/N)," Cassidy smiled from the entrance.

       I calmed myself down, wondering how deep in thought I was to not hear the door unlock in the first place. "Hey," I responded with a smile.

       I looked back down at the pan in front of me, Cassidy catching a whiff of her meal. Both of our stomachs growled, mine craving more than just the chicken. "Smells good," she complimented. I know, I thought.

       "Well, it's done," I concluded, turning off the stove and grabbing two plates from the cabinets.

       Cassidy walked over and took her portions, leaving me with the rest. As I put my plate together she addressed me, "You're not gonna have any of the sauce?"

       I looked up at her, "Nah . . . Not that hungry."

       "If you say so," Cassidy shrugged. She sat at the dining table, but I felt my heart sink in my chest, as well as lightheadedness from the scent of my demons in the air. I left her alone in the kitchen and quickly escorted myself to my bedroom where I closed the door and rubbed my eyes.

       Rehabilitation was never easy. It looks so effortless when you're standing on the outside, but I didn't know what I was in for when I started taking therapy. If I wanted to, I could've gone into the kitchen then and there and drank until I choked on my vomit before blacking out. It was always easier to give up, but I didn't get as far as I did by falling back into my routine again, did I?

       I distracted myself with dinner and my laundry, cleaning up after myself for the first time in another long week. However, when you're picking up the pieces of your distressing life, it's hard to find a reason not to ignore it and let it destroy you more and more. At that point, I felt like anything and everything I did, no matter where I turned, I would always find a reason to drink rather than find a reason to live anymore. Nothing felt worth staying for that night . . .

       Except for Murdoc.

[dvp95]

can’t breathe when you touch my sleeve - chapter 4

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

rating: e (eventually)

warnings: none

tags: alternate universe, slow burn, fluff & humour, tiny bit of inner turmoil wrt sexuality but trust me it’s not that deep, eventual smut, idiots in love

word count: 3,122 for this chapter (15,775 total)

summary: Dan keeps making a fool of himself in interviews, to the point where it’s basically a meme. Now he’s got to sit down for the better part of an hour and sell his show to the YouTuber he’d had a massive crush on when he was a teenager.

read from the beginning on ao3 or on tumblr!

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

i want to die

Aw, what happened? Did you give SugarScape spoilers?

Despite Dan's horrible mood, that makes him snort. no you buffoon 1 sugarscape has been dead for yrs, much like how i would like to be 2 i don't say spoilers ever 3 it's WORSE

I may be a little out of the loop. You gonna make me guess? I'm sure it wasn't as bad as you think it was.

phil, Dan sends on its own for emphasis. i touched my coworkers tit on live telly and now i can't look her in the fucking eye

Jaime hadn't actually cared much. She'd laughed at him, made some jokes about how Dan's spatial awareness hadn't developed yet, and then moved on with grace. Meanwhile, Dan had been having a mild panic attack on his side of the sofa because all he'd meant to do was brush a distracting piece of lint off Jaime's shoulder and, somehow, drastically missed.

It was all of ten seconds of his life, and Dan is still freaking out about it. He's been pacing his hotel room since they got back, hasn't even bothered changing out of the nice shirt he'd worn for the interview.

Like accidentally? Phil finally replies on Dan's third lap of the room.

no phil i need to grope people on camera to finish. what kind of person do you think i am. YES ACCIDENTALLY.

I dunno what you're into. I'm sure she knew it was an accident?

Yes, Jaime knows it was an accident, but that's not the point. there will be gifs phil

Phil sends him some emojis, only some of which make any sense in context. Dan isn't sure why that calms him down so much. He sits on the edge of his bed and sighs, waiting for Phil to stop typing. It takes a while, but eventually Phil says, Then you'll deal with them. It honestly can't be worse than you falling off the Jimmy Kimmel stage? I swear I saw that gif for months before I knew who you were. And if you're worried about people saying you did it on purpose, tell Jaime. You can talk about it like adults.

It's all laid out very clearly, and while it does make Dan feel better, he doesn't think he's finished being dramatic yet. He checks the time and sighs heavily.

dont suppose you'd be up for a late lunch/early dinner to distract me??

Sure! :), Phil responds immediately. The quickness of his agreement makes that part of Dan's brain start shouting again. I'm actually filming today though. I'll be done in like half an hour if you want to meet me here? Then we can either get takeaway or go out?

It's truly fascinating to Dan how practiced Phil seems to be at giving someone options and pretending like either one is fine rather than just offering his own opinion on the matter.

After assuring Phil that he'll be there, Dan considers getting changed. He's only got fifteen if he wants to get to Phil's place on time, and he isn't exactly known for his quick wardrobe decisions.

In the end, Dan just swaps his nice shoes for some sneakers and rolls his sleeves up. He's a little overdressed still, a McQueen button-down maybe a little too fancy for just hanging out with a new friend, but. He doesn't want to be late. Besides, he looks good. Maybe he likes the idea of Phil being surprised, looking him up and down, having the interview as an excuse to be so dressed up.

The part of Dan's brain that exists to remind him that men are attractive has been so, so loud this week. It's been impossible to ignore.

Dan messes with his straightened fringe until his phone beeps, telling him his Uber is outside. He remembers where Phil lives, in the very vaguest sense, but has to get the exact address from Phil.

He's glad that Phil's front door is painted a specific sort of blue. It would be just Dan's luck to knock on the wrong narrow brick building.

Thor barks, somewhere inside, and Dan shoves his hands in his jean pockets as he waits for Phil to answer the door.

"Hey!" Phil greets him before he's even fully opened the door, beaming. To the great pleasure of Dan's ego, Phil's eyebrows raise as he looks Dan over. "Y'know, you could have changed. I wouldn't have minded waiting a bit."

"Feeling underdressed?" Dan teases.

"A little," says Phil. He pushes his glasses up and gestures at his own graphic tee and slippered feet. "If I'd known there was a dress code, I'd have put on a sports coat."

"You look fine, I was just impatient," says Dan. He waits for another beat. "Uh, can I... come in?"

Phil is giving him a smile, the one with deep eye crinkles and his tongue trapped in his teeth, but it drops as he realises that they've just been standing in his doorway. "Oh! Yeah, sorry, come in. I'm actually not done filming just yet, Thor distracted me. Shouldn't take long."

"What are you filming?" Dan asks curiously, his heart pounding a bit as he follows Phil inside and then, surprisingly, downstairs. "Wait, you're the basement flat? Your video lighting is so good, though!"

"Mostly artificial," says Phil. He sounds wistful. "Someday I'll have a place with a glass window, just you wait."

"What are your windows made of now?"

"What? They're made of glass."

"Then why would you need to wait for one?"

"What did I say?"

"Glass window," says Dan, fighting back giggles. They reach the basement door and Phil lets them in, giving Dan a sheepish sort of smile over his shoulder.

"I meant a glass wall. Like a wall of windows, y'know? That's the dream."

"Yeah, it is," Dan agrees, but he's distracted by the fact that he's in Phil's flat. He kicks his shoes off among the pile next to the door and looks around. "It feels super weird to be seeing this place in 3D."

"Oh, probably," Phil laughs. "You want some slippers? My feet get so cold down here, I've got like a dozen pairs."

"I'm alright."

Phil's flat has less natural light than Dan had expected - or, evidently, than Phil would prefer - but the sheer number of lamps, string lights, and scented candles scattered around the place give it a soft glow that Dan is a big fan of. There are bright colours on every surface and every wall, and the overall effect isn't as overwhelming as it could be. Dan still thinks it could be edited down, but. It's very Phil.

To his vague surprise, he sees Phil's bed pushed against the far wall, a backless bookshelf the only divider from the open living space. Box lights and camera are all set up at the side of his bed.

"If I didn't know what you did for a living," says Dan, gesturing at the setup.

Phil grins at him. "Yeah. My landlord still doesn't believe that I don't make porn. You want a drink?"

"Sure, whatever you're having," says Dan. He spots Thor, curled up on a fluffy dog bed in the corner, and immediately starts cooing. "Oh, there you are! Hello!"

Thor perks up, cocking his head to the side, and Dan gets on the floor to call him over. Within seconds, he ends up on his back with an armful of happy puppy, and he giggles helplessly as Thor licks all over his face.

"Thor, down," Phil says from somewhere above them, sounding amused. Thor backs off, winding through Phil's legs a couple of times before he trots back to his bed.

"I love him," Dan informs Phil, still flat on his back. It's not the most flattering angle to look up at Phil, but he can deal.

"So do I," says Phil. He holds up a glass. "Ribena?"

"Please," says Dan, standing back up to accept the drink. He suddenly feels very weird, standing in the middle of Phil's lounge slash dining area slash kitchen slash bedroom. "Er, you've still got to finish filming, yeah? I can just... sit."

With a small grin, Phil waves at his sofa. "Make yourself at home. Just try not to rile Thor up too much? He's already made my blooper reel longer than the video itself."

"I think I can handle that."

Dan cannot, in fact, handle it. He brings his Ribena to the floor so he can sit next to the dog bed and scratch all of Thor's favourite spots. He finds one of Thor's toys as he listens to Phil wrap up a story that sounds maybe ten percent true, and then - well. It progresses to a tug of war before Dan can even entertain the idea that this might be distracting to Phil.

"Dan," Phil says, in this tone like he's trying to sound stern but can't stop smiling. "Are you growling at Thor?"

Yes. "Maybe."

"Maybe? I'm literally filming right now."

"He's just so cute," Dan whines.

"I know he is," says Phil. "I deal with this struggle every day of my life."

Dan sighs and lets Thor have the rope, watching wistfully as he zooms off with it. "Sorry, I'm really not trying to be a dick. I know this is your job."

"Hey, no," says Phil, suddenly sounding much closer. Dan looks up from corgi-watching to see Phil leaning against one side of his shelves, hands in his pockets and a soft smile playing around his lips. Butterflies erupt somewhere in Dan's belly. "I'm not bothered, really. I think it's cute. I just also, y'know, would like to eat sometime today."

"Why don't I just order something?" Dan suggests.

"Alright," Phil hums. "I'm lactose intolerant and hate mushrooms, but the intolerance can be ignored for pizza if that's what you want."

If that's what Dan wants. "What do you want?"

Phil blinks. "Oh, whatever."

"No," Dan presses. He knows it isn't very good manners, but he wants to see if Phil will actually offer an opinion of his own instead of walking that thin line of indifference. "I will quite literally eat anything. You pick."

It's quiet for a moment while Phil thinks it over, only the hum of the refrigerator and Thor's little huffs of breath for background noise. Dan has to admit that the small basement windows have an upside - less traffic din is able to get through. Coupled with the way Phil has lit his flat, the atmosphere makes Dan feel comfortable, like he could curl up here and just stay.

The rug under Dan is soft, the Ribena is perfectly watered down, and he's got a cute dog and a cute boy to stare at. He really could sit here forever and be content.

"I feel like Chinese," Phil says eventually. He's chewing on his lip, and Dan realises he hasn't seen Phil look so... anxious.

"Chinese sounds great," says Dan. "I'll order."

Phil seems relieved that he hasn't accidentally made a horrible choice or something, and he goes back to filming while Dan fucks around on different apps to find the best Chinese place in Phil's area.

--

"You never actually told me how you managed to grope someone."

Dan, who had gotten all wrapped up in chow mein and MasterChef and had forgotten his hellish morning by this point, chokes on air.

"Oh my god, nooooo," he groans, covering his face with both hands and sinking further into the sofa. He hears Phil laugh. "She just! Had some fucking, like, fluff on her shoulder. Like lint. I was gonna brush it off."

"How did you fuck that up so hard?" Phil asks. He sounds so amused that Dan wants to keep hiding, but the curse has him peeking out between his fingers curiously.

"I've never heard you swear," says Dan.

"I don't," says Phil, "on YouTube."

Unfortunately for Dan, the sound of Phil swearing is very hot. He groans again, overdramatic to cover up his very real blush, and gesticulates wildly. "My limbs are not friends with my brain, okay, I've got very big hands and I misjudged where I was putting one of them."

"Yeah, you do." Phil's eyes track Dan's hands with an intensity that makes Dan's gut constrict. Then he blinks, meets Dan's eye again, and the look is gone. "That sucks. I get it, though, my body and brain are not on the same frequency at all."

Dan thinks, a little hysterically, that this is a very good reason not to try and have sex with AmazingPhil - he doesn't want to end up in A&E.

There are roughly a hundred other reasons, too. Dan's uncertainty about his own identity, the fact that he's only in the UK for another two weeks, and the very real bond that they've been forming as friends are all at the forefront of his mind. Even so, it helps to make a joke to himself about it.

"Have you ever touched a tit accidentally?" Dan asks dryly.

"I've never touched a tit at all," says Phil. He's drinking coffee despite the hour hurtling into evening quickly, and Dan has to wonder if he ever sleeps. "Not really my wheelhouse."

"They're fine," Dan says, with much less enthusiasm than he normally would. He can't sit here and talk about his boob opinions with Phil, though, because that way lies madness. So he changes the subject, talks loudly about the episode of MasterChef they're on.

He's not ready to come out properly to himself, let alone to someone he barely knows.

Well, okay. It would be more accurate to say 'just met', because Dan feels like he does know Phil fairly well at this point. At least as well as he knows Jaime or Patrick. And maybe that's more of a commentary on how shit a coworker he is, how bad at making friends he is, but whatever. The point is that he likes spending time with Phil a lot, and he wants to do it more, but he can't have that conversation yet.

Dan knows he's attracted to guys. When he was younger and had an even worse handle on himself, that attraction would either lead to fumbling, fearing for his safety, or both.

Right now, specifically, he is attracted to Phil. This feels different, because he's got no reason to fear Phil or to immediately jump him, he's just comfortable sitting next to Phil in the dim light and letting the warmth of the feelings settle in his chest.

Maybe someday he'll be ready to tell Phil that he likes guys. Maybe that'll even go somewhere. For now, Dan is going to trash talk the chefs like he knows what he's talking about and settle into Phil's sofa and laugh like he belongs there.

Dan gets a little too comfortable. He has no idea what time it is when his eyes start to droop, but he's sure it's unreasonably early for someone who goes to sleep in the wee hours of morning most of the time.

A hand on his shoulder jerks him back into full awareness, and Dan blinks over at Phil. "Whuh?"

"Hey," says Phil. He's smiling and his voice is low. Dan can feel the slight chill of Phil's palm through the thin material of his dress shirt.

It's overwhelming, suddenly, how much Dan wants to lean in to Phil. The itch under his skin that he would feel ten years or so ago, the restless, guilty want that had him falling into bed with whatever bloke would let him, is thrumming through him with an intensity he hasn't prepared for. Dan's tongue feels heavy, and his gaze drops to Phil's mouth before he can stop it.

"Hey," echoes Dan, a beat or two late.

"You're falling asleep," Phil says. There's something about his tone that Dan can't quite place, so focused on his own emotions as he is. "You wanna stay over?"

Dan really, really does. But he really, really, really shouldn't.

"I can't," he says, not bothering to hide how regretful it makes him to turn the offer down. "Breakfast telly or whatever in the morning."

The loss of Phil's hand on Dan is one that he thinks he'll be feeling until Phil touches him again. "Of course. You probably have to wake up ridiculously early for that, huh?"

"Unfortunately."

Dan orders himself an Uber and slides to the floor with Thor in order to stop himself from giving his body what it wants in the short amount of time before it arrives. Thor likes the attention, and when Dan glances up to see the soft, unguarded look in Phil's eye, he thinks that Phil probably doesn't mind being ditched for his dog.

They chat about MasterChef and Dan's upcoming interview for a few minutes, safe topics, and Dan is disappointed when his phone beeps with the notification that his driver is close. He doesn't actually want to leave, he just knows he has to.

"We have to do this again before you head up to Edinburgh," says Phil. He walks Dan to the door, which is a little pointless - it's a total of eight steps away.

"How'd you know we're going to Edinburgh this weekend?" Dan asks, distracted from the process of getting his shoes on.

"Been in the business a while, lucky guess."

"Right. Well, then, I'll have to see what I'm doing on Friday."

"Yeah, just message me," says Phil.

There's a moment after Dan gets his shoes on where they're both just standing there looking at each other, and Dan's heart starts pounding like he's getting chased.

"I'll see you Friday," Dan says quietly, even though he isn't sure that he's free. He just needs to say something. His phone beeps again, probably telling him the driver is outside, and Dan is both relieved and annoyed.

Phil opens his mouth to say something, but Dan's racing heart and anxious mind doesn't want to hear whatever it is. He steps forward and wraps his arms around Phil's waist in a tight goodbye hug. It's the sort of embrace he'd give any of his friends, nothing overly intimate, but he knows he'll be thinking about it later anyway.

When Phil's arms drape over Dan's shoulders and his thumb brushes deliberate circles over the back of Dan's neck, it hits Dan very suddenly that if he were to try and kiss Phil right now, Phil would let him. That kind of knowledge is intoxicating, the surety of it making Dan's head swim.

But. He still doesn't know for sure what he wants, and his Uber is waiting. So he just pulls away, says goodnight, leaves.

[quicksilversquared]

How to Fake a Marriage: ch 36

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(AO3) (FF.net)

Saying that Nino was a little put out when he arrived and found out that he had just missed Marinette would be an understatement. Apparently he had really been looking forward to talking to both of them.

"I could have rescheduled if you guys had remembered earlier," he grumbled as he and Adrien took the bus back to Adrien's apartment. "Geez. What are the odds of that happening?"

Adrien winced, feeling slightly guilty. Nino didn't get worked up easily at all, so there must have been some reason for the visit besides just seeing old friends. He hadn't mentioned any problems with his relationship with Alya at all before, so maybe there was some other reason entirely.

At least Adrien hoped that whatever was upsetting Nino wasn't something to do with Alya. He really wasn't good at relationship advice, even after dating Marinette for over a year.

Communication was key, he knew that much. Split the chores equally, and help each other. Show the other person that you love them, and surprise them with little gifts and favors. He thought that that was pretty straightforward, really. At least in theory.

"Marinette had forgotten that she had bought tickets to go back to Paris for this weekend," Adrien said, shrugging and making a can't-be-helped face. "She only remembered literally last-minute, and only because she got the email with the ticket reminder."

Nino laughed at that. "Classic Marinette. I thought she had gotten better at remembering things like that."

"She has gotten better. She's just been so busy with both work and commissions that she forgot," Adrien said immediately, feeling slightly defensive on his girlfriend's behalf. Sure, Marinette could be slightly forgetful at times, but it wasn't as though she didn't have a perfectly good reason for that. In school, she had been a superhero on top of everything else (being a student, being class president, helping in her parents' bakery, doing assorted commissions for people, building her design portfolio and teaching herself new sewing skills...). Now, she had both her normal job and a fairly steady stream of commissions to deal with on the side. Even though she was doing an impressive job of balancing everything while still having time left over to spend with Adrien and to relax, it was still a lot.

Nino just shrugged. "If you say so."

The bus pulled to a halt and they hopped off and started walking towards Adrien's building. Dusk had fallen now, and the streetlight were on. A cold gust of wind blew up the street, making both men shiver.

"So how's your work going?" Adrien asked as they walked. Nino hadn't mentioned it much during their last few phone calls, clearly distracted about something. Adrien was willing to bet that that something was probably Alya. "You said there were a couple different movies you were working on?"

"Yeah," Nino confirmed. "One's another indie, and then- you'll never believe this- this big-shot director called me up, wanted to know if I could do the soundtrack for his next movie! So I'm starting on that while I polish up the stuff from the small film. I'm super-excited about it! It could be my breakthrough into getting, y'know, proper steady jobs all the time that actually pay a decent amount. I'm still DJ-ing some evenings, just so I still have that money, but hopefully I won't need to do that anymore soon. Or I'll at least be able to cut down on my hours."

"That's great!" Nino really deserved it. He'd been working so hard for years to try to get a job like that, and for someone to finally notice his hard work and talent was just great. "Next thing you know, you'll be a famous movie soundtrack composer."

Nino snorted and shoved him lightly. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever, dude. I just hope this leads to other jobs, that's all. I don't need to be famous."

Adrien laughed and knocked him right back. "Industry-famous, I mean. Well know enough that directors come knocking at your door. Not necessarily famous like people running after you in the streets."

"Yeah, that would suck." Nino sent a look at Adrien. "Have the tabloids been bugging you again? I know they had kind of been giving up on that gradually."

Adrien couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, they've been giving up on harassing Marinette and I. We're boring and they just keep getting the same answers to their questions. There's an occasional article, but..." He shrugged. "People are tired of seeing the same claims over and over. It's not selling anymore. Also, people have stopped caring about some random French model and his designer friend."

They reached the building and Adrien unlocked the door, ushering Nino in in front of him. They headed upstairs, passing Abbey on the stairs. Adrien waved in greeting and then hurried ahead so that he could unlock his apartment door and get Nino in before Abbey could come up and give the game away by going in to what used to be Marinette's apartment.

That was way too close. Hopefully they wouldn't have that problem again while Nino was there. Adrien felt a little bad about not slowing to chat with Abbey like he and Marinette normally did, but he wasn't entirely positive that she would remember to act like she lived in another apartment on the floor once they reached their respective doors. In fact, he wasn't even sure that Marinette had told Abbey that a friend from Paris was visiting them over the weekend.

He would apologize and explain later. Abbey would understand, he was sure.

"Your apartment has really come a long way since the first time I first saw it," Nino told Adrien as he stepped in and glanced around. He spotted Adrien's slightly puzzled look and rushed to explain. "I mean, the first time Alya and I visited, there wasn't that much here. There was just what you could carry in a couple suitcases and what you had ordered- and, like the furniture and all, but the place was just really, really bare. And now it actually looks lived in. You have all sorts of little knick-knacks here. It looks like a home, instead of a temporary living place."

Adrien laughed. "Yeah, I like it," he admitted. "But it's a curse as well. Marinette has a lot of stuff too, and we're both wondering how we're meant to get it all home once we're done in London. We're going to have to do a couple trips at the end of the year, I think, and maybe ship some stuff. It's been a pretty common conversation topic even though we have a couple months left."

"Are you leaving anything here?"

Adrien had to think about it for a moment. "Well, the furniture, obviously," he joked. "And the kitchen stuff and whatnot. I think the landlady might be a tad bit upset if we ran off with that stuff. But in all seriousness, yeah, there's some stuff that I really don't need to take back," he added before Nino could groan at him too much. "Like, my dad got sheets and towels and whatnot for me when I moved here, and I have plenty of that stuff back in Paris. Marinette did the same, I know. I think we're just going to wash that stuff and donate it. It would cost more to ship it back than it would to just replace things."

Nino nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense."

"I don't know what else we might get rid of," Adrien said. He led the way into the kitchen and pulled out the soup he and Marinette had made to heat it up. "Any food left over, obviously. Marinette bought a sewing table for herself, and that'll probably go to one of her coworkers. Stuff like that. But I like a lot of the things we've acquired and I don't want to get rid of much of it."

"What about your fake marriage certificate?" Nino asked. He grinned at Adrien. "I like that you still have that up, actually. Like, did you never find anything better to put in that frame?"

Adrien had to laugh. "What are you talking about? That's the best thing that could go in that frame. It's such a big part of my London experience. I'm gonna keep it forever."

"You're going to go to all the trouble of bringing it back to Paris? Really?" Nino gave Adrien an incredulous look. "Dude. It's just a piece of paper. You've got the photos and everything, if you wanted reminders of your prank."

Adrien just grinning, shaking his head. He knew Nino wouldn't understand it. The fake marriage certificate reminded him of the start of his time in London, and the start of a new period of his life. It was funny, and, well, what else was he going to put up on his wall? Pictures from his photoshoots?

Nino and Adrien joked and laughed as the soup reheated and they sat down around the table. Adrien checked his phone before he tucked in and saw that Marinette had gotten into Paris and had gotten home safely. Her parents were happy to see her, of course, but still were a little puzzled over her sudden decision to visit. Adrien typed out a quick reply and then put his phone away so he could focus on his dinner.

And so he could talk to Nino, but Nino didn't seem to be in a super-conversational mood now that their meal was in front of him. In fact, he seemed rather distracted.

"This wasn't just a normal visit, was it?" Adrien asked when Nino fell quiet again during dinner. "Was there something you wanted to talk about?"

Nino laughed, finally setting down his fork so he would stop fiddling with his food. "You know me too well. Yeah, there is, but I kind of wanted to talk to both you and Marinette at the same time..."

Adrien tried not to look too alarmed. If Nino came back to London for another weekend, they would have a really hard time trying to hide the fact that he and Marinette were living together. He would have to find some other solution. "We could maybe Skype Marinette so you can talk to her, too."

Nino grinned. "Yeah! That would be great. I didn't really want to make another trip over, since I'm trying to save my money at the moment."

Adrien blinked at the comment. "...for trips to see Alya?"

Nino shook his head. "Not... not exactly. But that's part of what I wanted to talk to you guys about, actually."

Completely lost, Adrien just nodded and reached for his phone. "All right. I'll text Marinette and ask when she can Skype us. Her parents will probably be off to bed soon, so I'm sure she'll be free before long."

Nino nodded.

It didn't take Marinette long at all to respond eagerly. Apparently her parents had already headed off to bed and she was more than willing to Skype with them. She wanted to know what news Nino had to share, and she didn't want to have to just hear it secondhand. Adrien had to hold back the affectionate greeting on the tip of his tongue when Marinette's face popped up on his computer screen. They had done so well so far with not making their Paris friends overly suspicious, and to trip up now would be a letdown. Instead, he contented himself with a "Hey, Marinette!"

"Hey yourself," Marinette shot back. Her eyes were twinkling. "Long time no see, stranger."

Adrien just snorted.

"Okay, less flirting from you two," Nino said, pushing Adrien over so he could sit in front of the screen as well. "Hi, Marinette! So I hear you forgot about your trip until last minute."

Marinette made a face and stuck her tongue out at him. "Yeah, yeah. I thought it was next weekend, not this one. Otherwise I would have let you know ahead of time so we wouldn't miss each other." She made another face (She's so cute, Adrien thought rather dreamily) and then refocused on them again. "So what's up? Adrien said that there was something you wanted to talk to both of us about?"

Abruptly, Nino was nervous again. "Yeah. I, uh, it's, well..."

"Dude."

"I'm thinking about asking Alya to marry me!" Nino suddenly blurted, words rushing out together in a blur. "This December, when I go to visit her in Tibet."

Both Adrien and Marinette gasped.

"Congrats, Nino!" Marinette exclaimed, grinning. "Adrien! Give Nino a hug for me!"

Adrien was already on it, practically knocking Nino over in a tackle of a hug as he grinned. "That's so great! So that's why you're trying to save money right now! Have you gotten a ring yet? Man, marriage fever really has hit our group of friends, hasn't it?"

"I've narrowed it down to two choices," Nino said, shoving at Adrien's side. "Dude, get off. You're squishing me."

Adrien just laughed and wriggled forward a bit more for maximum squishage. Nino groaned.

"So did you want our opinions on the rings or something?" Marinette asked, leaning forward in a failed effort to see them better. "Adrien, get off Nino."

"I like how he listens to you but not me," Nino muttered when Adrien pushed himself back up. "And yeah, I thought I would ask you, actually, since you'd probably have a better idea of what Alya would like. And then I just wanted input from you guys on, y'know, how to do the proposal itself. Because I have some ideas, of course, but..."

Both of his friends grinned, eager to help.

"Well, if you have pictures of the rings, then you can send them to me now," Marinette said, scooting closer to her screen. "And then you can tell us about your ideas! I haven't really heard about Alya's plans for the Tibet part of her trip yet, so you'll have to tell us about that, too."

"Sending," Nino said, tapping at his phone and shooting the pictures in a text to Marinette. Adrien craned his neck to look at the rings. Both were fairly straightforward bands, one with small sapphires on either side of the middle diamond and the other with smaller diamonds alongside the large one, and both would be perfect for Alya. On the computer, Marinette let out a coo of delight.

"These are perfect, Nino!" she exclaimed. "Alya would love either one, really."

"But would she love one more?" Nino asked anxiously. "They're pretty much the same cost, so that's not an issue."

Marinette hummed and looked back at her phone. "I personally like the top one more, but that's just me."

"I concur," Adrien chimed in.

Nino let out his breath. "Okay, that's great. I was honestly about to just flip a coin and decide that way, but if both of you like that one better, then that's fantastic."

"So what about your proposal plans?" Marinette asked immediately. "You said you want to do it in December? And then Alya has a month of travel left after that, right?"

Nino nodded. "Yeah. I originally wanted to wait until she got back home but then I thought, then what makes it special? She's been seeing cool stuff for months. How is a proposal going to be memorable after that? And I had always thought that I might propose while we were traveling at some point, but after this year I think she'll be traveled out for a bit and, well, we can't really do a trip just for no reason plus a honeymoon. And she'll be in such a cool place in December, so..."

"Makes sense," Adrien said, grinning. "So what's the plan?"

Nino let out a long breath. "Well, it's not set in stone yet, but I'll be going on a Wednesday evening, then I'll be accompanying Alya on a couple outings. Then we have Saturday and Sunday to do whatever, since she's scheduled those days off. I leave on Tuesday, and then she heads on to the next place on Thursday. So I figured I would propose on Saturday, so we have a couple days together to, uh, celebrate-"

Marinette and Adrien both snorted.

"-but outside of that? I really don't know. I was thinking about maybe a hike because it's gorgeous in the area she'll be in, but it'll be freezing and the weather might not cooperate, plus from what I understand, she'll be out hiking with her guides to various spots connected with the Miraculous during the week, so she'll probably be tired of that by the time the weekend gets there."

"She'll probably be ready for a massage and some hot tubs," Marinette said with a laugh. "Something indoors and warm. Pampering."

Nino grinned. "You're the best, Marinette. I like that idea. So maybe I can find some sort of spa to go to during the day or something?"

"Ooh! Or maybe hot springs," Marinette said, shifting in front of her computer again. "I know Alya mentioned those when she was looking at stuff for Tibet. She said it was too bad that she probably wouldn't have time to go to them. I mean, they're outside, but the one that she'll be closest to has an absolutely gorgeous view according to the brochures Alya was looking at. You're outside, but you're in the pool and surrounded by stream and warmth and then there's snow, like, half a meter away."

Nino perked up. "Hot springs? So, you sit and soak? That sounds relaxing."

"And probably a little less expensive than a spa," Marinette pointed out. "O a lot less expensive, probably. And it's a nicer setting. More unusual. You can find spas anywhere, but hot springs are less common."

"So I could maybe propose there," Nino said, nodding to himself. "We'd obviously have to have towels and coats, like, right there for when we get out, so I could keep the ring box in my coat pocket and then...maybe I could get out first, and then while Alya is still in the water, turn around and propose right there..." Nino was on a roll now. "And then a restaurant afterwards. I'll maybe drop a few openings for her to let me know what restaurants she's maybe interested in next time I call her- hopefully they won't be booked forever in advance- and we can do that after, and then, ah... back to the hotel, probably." He let out a long breath, grin spreading across his face for real now. "You are actually the best, Marinette, has anyone ever told you that? I never would have thought of that."

"And I'm chopped liver, apparently," Adrien said with a laugh. "But I think that sounds amazing, Nino. Alya's gonna be so thrilled. Are you gonna try to get someone to take pictures of the proposal or nah?"

Nino made a face. "I...don't know? Like, if the opportunity comes up for me to somehow get someone, then sure, I might try, but I mostly want pictures right afterwards. We'll send you selfies afterwards for sure."

"I'm so happy for you guys," Marinette said again, grinning. "I can't wait to see those pictures and to hear how it went."

"You have to wait a couple months yet," Nino reminded them. "And I don't think I need to remind you not to breathe a word of this to Alya, right? I want her to be completely surprised."

"No problem, dude," Adrien assured him. "We won't breathe a word."

  The rest of the weekend was mostly filled with Adrien and Nino hanging out. Since the weather outside had taken a turn for the crummy- "Seriously, dude, all of this rain is just depressing. How do you live here?"- they mostly just hung out in the apartment and played video games. Nino kept adding new handicaps for Adrien so he could try to be able to win for once. Some were more successful than others.

"How are you still winning even when you have a blindfold on?" Nino had complained after Adrien narrowly beat him. "That's absolutely ridiculous, dude. Insane."

Adrien had just grinned. Plagg, who had decided to be helpful for once by hiding in Adrien's collar and whispering directions into his ear, sniggered quietly.

Nino headed back to Paris midday Sunday, and Adrien saw him to the train station before heading to a cafe nearby. Marinette would be coming in on the same train Nino would be leaving on shortly, and there was no point in heading back to the apartment early by himself. As he nibbled on the croissant he had ordered (nowhere near as good as the ones the Dupain-Chengs made, but still decent enough), Adrien thought about the bomb Nino had dropped on him over the weekend.

Nino and Alya would be getting engaged.

Really, it shouldn't have been a surprise. Nino had mentioned thinking about getting engaged before, and his only reservation had been Alya's trip and how being engaged or married while she was gone might affect them more than if they were simply dating. Now that Alya's trip was partway done and would be drawing to a close in January, it made sense that Nino would be thinking about engagement again. He could take advantage of the amazing places Alya was travelling to with her research to give Alya the magical proposal she had always wanted.

And all the planning and talk of engagement had gotten Adrien thinking. While he and Marinette had technically only been dating for just over a year now, he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, without a doubt. They wouldn't be able to be public with their relationship until they got back to Paris and an engagement wouldn't change that.

But if they got engaged right before they went back...

It was something to think about. Also, he couldn't help but think that it would be funny to go back home and announce that they were engaged out of the blue, which would mean that they would have to keep their secret, well, secret for another few months.

Adrien's phone chimed, and he immediately lunged for it. Marinette's familiar contact popped up on his screen, beaming up at him.

Marinette: Just got in! I think I saw Nino on the platform, but only for a second and the crowd was too thick to check. I wanted to go over and say hi :(

Adrien grinned and hopped up, clearing his table and heading back to the station, the remaining part of his croissant in one hand. He had missed seeing Marinette, even though she had only been gone for two days. How Nino managed to go weeks without Alya, he wasn't sure. It had to be hard.

He was only outside for a minute before he spotted Marinette coming through the crowd with her little bag. He trotted towards her, a grin on his lips. She just rolled her eyes when she saw him.

"Miss me?" Adrien teased as he joined her and they headed together towards the bus station. "It's been forever!"

"It's been two days," Marinette corrected. "But yes, I suppose I did miss you, even though we video-chatted during that time. Can you believe it?"

"It's great news," Adrien agreed, picking up the change in topic easily enough. He had known that Marinette must have just been bursting, wanting to talk to someone about Alya and Nino's soon-to-be engagement. "I actually should have been expecting it. Nino had talked about getting engaged before, but he was just worried about the timing with Alya's trip. So it makes sense that he would want to propose now."

"Alya is going to be thrilled," Marinette said. She was grinning. "It's going to be just her kind of proposal. Somewhere exotic and unique, but she'll be nice and comfortable in the hot springs."

"That was an amazing idea," Adrien told her. He had seen how much Nino had lit up at the suggestion, and he had spotted Nino reading up on hot springs in the region of Tibet that he and Alya were going to be visiting several times over the weekend. He seemed to be trying to figure out which would be closest and still have the best view and the best premises. "Nino was really thrilled to have more of the details in place. And I can't wait until he proposes. I want to hear how it goes, but there's still more than a month to go!"

Marinette laughed.

"Why now, though?" Adrien wondered. "Why are people getting engaged all at once now? First Ivan and Mylène, and now Nino and Alya. Well, within a couple months, at least. Soon. It's like there's an engagement bug going around."

"Well, I assume people were waiting until they graduated, for one," Marinette pointed out, giggling. "And then they probably wanted to earn some money before having a wedding. A couple years gives them that. They can get their careers properly started and get the time off they want for the wedding and honeymoon. And they've been together forever."

Adrien nodded. There was no denying that. He wasn't surprised that either couple would get engaged (or be considering it), just the fact that both couples would be making the same move within months of each other.

"So how was your weekend?" Adrien asked, deciding to change the topic for now. They reached the bus stop and sat down to wait. "Did you enjoy seeing your parents?"

"I did," Marinette agreed. "It was nice to work in the bakery for a bit again. I got to do some decorating, as usual." She giggled. "And I had to do a fast shower before I took the train back, because I was mixing up some bread last-minute to help my dad and I started the mixer up too fast and the flour went all over. I looked like a ghost."

Adrien laughed. That was so typically Marinette. "Oh, I wish I could have seen that. I bet you looked adorable."

"I looked a mess is what I looked, thank-you-very-much."

It didn't take long for the bus to come, or for them to get back to the apartment. Once they got back, it was time to return their apartment to normal.

"Oh, I'm astounded that Nino didn't notice anything," Marinette said as they hung up their coats. Up on the top shelf, Marinette's heavy sweaters and coats had been hastily covered by Adrien's sweaters, and the result was messy, to say the least. "We kind of just have things covered up everywhere."

"It helped that he was distracted," Adrien agreed. He pulled his shoes off and headed back to their bedroom, where they had stored most of Marinette's things that hadn't been simply covered to keep them out of sight. "I'm just glad he didn't come back into the bedroom at all. The stuff back here wasn't very well hidden- though at least we did remember to take out the trash this time around."

"Well, we didn't exactly have anywhere else to store things." They rounded the bed to pick up the sewing table, with Marinette's sewing machine perched on top of it. "How soon do you think they're going to get married? Do you think they'll have a long engagement, or a short one?"

Adrien had to think about it as they slowly moved table and machine around their bed. Truth be told, he really didn't know. Nino had wanted to propose over a year ago- or, well, he had considered it some at that point, at least- so maybe they would want a wedding sooner rather than later. But then again Alya was going to be busy with getting all of her research organized and ready to publish, so maybe it would take them longer to plan the wedding. He couldn't remember if either Nino or Alya had ever mentioned to him what kind of wedding they would want to have- large or small, fancy or straightforward, even if they would have a wedding or if they would rather elope.

Yeah, he was pretty sure that they had never mentioned any of that stuff.

"It probably depends on a lot of things," Adrien said as way of answer. "I mean, we could ask Nino since he and Alya have probably talked about getting married before. Or we could wait and ask both of them after Nino proposes."

"I know Alya has mentioned wanting a late spring or early summer wedding, when the weather won't be too hot," Marinette continued, like she hadn't heard Adrien's comment. "So it'll either be a short engagement, or just over a year. I'd guess that they would go for the just over a year just to have the time to plan, but maybe I'm wrong."

"What are Ivan and Mylène doing?" Adrien asked as they set the table down for a short break. "Have they told you? You saw them over the weekend, right?"

"Early fall next year," Marinette said immediately. "Around the same time when they first started dating, though I think that decision was part because of that and part because Mylène loves fall."

"Does Ivan love fall, too?"

Marinette laughed. "Ivan loves making Mylène happy. And I don't think he had a super-strong opinion on the season." She perked up suddenly, clapping her hands together. "Oh! And speaking of Ivan and Mylène, Mylène wants me to go dress-shopping with her when I'm home for Christmas. She's going to look into making an appointment right after the holidays so I don't have to take too many more days off, but she'll let me know what she finds."

Adrien grinned as they picked the table back up again and kept moving. "She doesn't think Alix can give her the best dress advice? I'm shocked."

"I think Alix is in charge of helping with refreshments." Marinette maneuvered the table into place against the wall and they carefully set it down. "Or music, or maybe just the bachelorette party. Mylène didn't exactly have a ton of details squared away yet, since they only just got engaged."

"And now Nino and Alya are going to be getting engaged."

"Yeah."

Adrien swallowed a so who do you think is going to be next? He knew a few of their other lycée and collège friends were dating people, but he wasn't entirely sure how serious those relationships were, partly because he didn't want to pry and partly because... well, he hadn't been in Paris for the last two-plus years and even before that, he only saw some of his former classmates on a rather infrequent basis.

Slowly but surely, the rest of their apartment got back to normal, clothes and baskets of cloth and magazines going back to their normal spots. Adrien refolded the last of his sweaters and put it back in its spot before turning back to an exhausted-looking Marinette, who was surveying their living room with a tired look. A thought hit him and Adrien snuck up behind his girlfriend with a mischievous twist to his lips.

"We forgot something," Adrien said, grinning when Marinette turned to him with a puzzled expression. "Something important."

Marinette frowned as she tried to figure it out, oblivious to his arm snaking around her waist to pull her closer. "Really? Wha- eep!"

"This," Adrien murmured, swallowing her yelp of surprise with a kiss. She melted into him with a hum. "Love you, Bug."

"I love you too, Chaton."

[justcallmemav]

7/20/18

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

Pt.20

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

“You didn't get along with her, so this shouldn't be affecting you this bad.”

(She saw how you treated me and wanted to adopt me.)

“You trust people too easy, girl.”

( I had known him for 13 years. I built that trust. )

“You put yourself in this situation.”

( I didn't ask for it.)

“I never liked him anyways, trash grew legs and took itself out.”

(I loved him for five years.)

▪▪   ·I love you, mom. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted me to be.

---

▪▪   ·I'm at work I'll message you when I'm off. Ly2.

---

▪���   ·I could use a call right now.

---

▪▪  ·Can't talk right now, will call tomorrow. You'll be fine for a day.

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

▪  You're my best friend. I love you. I can't take it anymore.

---------

▪   I think this is it.

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

▪▪▪  Thank you for always loving me unconditionally. You're the greatest sister anyone could ask for. I love you. You're better off without me.

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

      You came to visit me two days after i was taken into the hospital on july 20th at 9 o'clock at night.

      I was drinking an excessive amount within the matter of two hours.

     Within the last few minutes of the second hour, I saw the walls of the world around me collapsing.

This is it.

I have nothing left.

     My mind wouldn't rest. I took a xanax but it didn't help ease my mind.

     It sure couldn't mend my broken heart.

                  This was the last time.

It didn't work before.

           It has to work now.

                          So I begged, and I cried.

I prayed to a God I wasn't even sure existed.

Please take me now.

        I want to come home.

                      I think I'm ready now.

JUST TAKE ME NOW. I AM READY. PLEASE FUCKING TAKE ME. I'M READY.

      I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I made the choice to give into my thoughts and my depression. I made the choice to finalize this shit I consider living. This existence. This truly was it. This is the end.

      I let my hands trace their way to my fate. To my drawer. Opening the pill bottle. Where the palm of my hand met my lips to fill my mouth with what I knew would make everything better soon. Next thing I know, my body was lured to the bottle of vodka as it stands at the end of the bed. I wrap my fingers tight around the neck of the bottle, lips to the glass. Down the hatch and into the rabbit hole I go. I feel my body spiral. Down...down...down...down…

                      Boom

                         So bitter.

                        Yet so good.

Was this the only way i could be happy again?

I will reach the numbness I yearn to undergo.

I've heard the rumors.

Does it seem as free as they say?

            Then along came the thump.

                       ALAS~

Nothingness.

Darkness. No voices, no pain, no criticism. Just the echoes of my heart beat.

Thump.. Thump….. Thump….

After what felt like days… the darkness fades steadily. The numbness dissolves like ice through my fingertips.

               Off in the distance I hear something. A cry? A car? A siren? A siren.

I struggle to come to consciousness.

                 I find it nearly impossible.

Then out of the blue, I hear a voice.

                A voice so faint and familiar.

After some time, I can open my eyes half way as I slip back into consciousness.

My vision is hazy. I managed to come to when I hear her voice.

“Cayley, there's some people here who need you to get up and come outside. They need to check on you.”

I see the pigments from the lights spinning on their vehicles, bouncing off of the brick walls on the outside of my home, but it's all blurry.

       I struggled to stand as I stepped through my threshold to go outside.

Who needs to talk to me? About what? Why?

I look up and see two policemen and a paramedic. I begin to hyperventilate.

“Is my dad okay?”

Ma'am, we received a call stating that you may be a harm to yourself, so I ask that you don't resist help. Are you able to follow us to the back of the ambulance, ma'am?

·I haven't done anything and I'm not a harm to myself.

·For your own safety we need to make sure that's true. We can't take risks, miss.

·I'm sorry, please ma'am let go of my arm, I don't need help. GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME I AM FINE.

I hear my father talking to the police officer but couldn't make out what they were saying over dad's coworker crying and all of the sounds around me. I panicked. I heard my dad speaking once more, only this time it was directed at me.

He asked me three things.

“CAYLEY BABY WHAT’D YOU DO?”

“WHAT DID YOU TAKE?”

My hearing began to fade slowly, as I focused on the ringing gradually developing in my head. I could ever so slightly hear the walkie talkies and daddys office keys jingling in his pocket. I heard Sues charm bracelet that she loves so much.

I felt my heartbeat through my chest, as if it was trying to escape. I feel my heart rate descend,  I look up to see what was around me. Everyone was there.

I saw my father crying and shaking.

 I saw his girlfriend crying.

    I saw my father's coworker crying.

          I was embarrassed.

Yet, too weak to care.

I muttered to the medic under my breath;

“I'm ready to go. Ma'am please take me.”

I collapse, but the woman was quick to catch me. She definitely had motherly instincts. Not even 2 seconds after i collapsed, I lose consciousness.

          I woke up in the back of an ambulance. I'm being hovered by two men with papers on clipboards and the medic who stopped me from busting my ass on concrete. They're bombarding me with questions and demands.

“Your oxygen levels are low, ma'am. I need you to inhale and exhale on ten. The oxygen being distributed through the tubes in your nostrils is a bit cold. Just a fair warning. Are you physically capable of removing your tunnels, lip piercing, your engagement ring, and whatever else pierced or on your person that could be a threat to yourself of me?”

“Do I have to take off my ring?”

“Yes ma'am, unfortunately it's code. We'll put it in this bag. It will stay unbothered. Please remove your piercings.”

Shortly after I began hyperventilating because I couldn't stop crying, and boom.

All consciousness was lost.

How could I harm anyone with a ring?

She should have been patient, anyways.

~Don't rush me.~

       You asked me why I did it. It took you two days, it took my father less than 60 seconds to get to me when he saw the ambulance at the door.

       You took 48 hours to muster the pride to visit me, and when you did, you showed no emotion at all. You hugged me that day and I felt no love.

        I was barely aware of what was going on, yet I somehow sensed tension coming from your end. As if you were forcing yourself to care when deep down you knew you didn't.

I felt like I was being smothered by a well maintained, ‘JLo Glo’ scented greeting mat.

          Even when I was much younger and you would stay in and drink, you'd hug me and I felt this giant strange force field of motherly love surrounding me, if that makes any sense. There was a step by step process of your home drunk persona and it went the same way every time.. but I'll get to that in a moment.

    Anyways, I'm still thankful you showed. Even two days late. You had me slightly convinced that you actually cared.

ALMOST. I was informed of the insensitive remarks you made to my father about me.  You really had the audacity to turn around and say I was wanting everyone to be worried about CAYLEY because ‘everything has to be about CAYLEY and CAYLEY was just looking for attention'.

         Like I didn't come home from school and take two steps through the threshold only to see you crying because you got dumped. You threatened to end your life. (Because you loved this man so much. The man you are with now. 9 years later. The man you use for money. Whom you cheat on)  Me and your biological daughter took you and admitted you.

         I felt like i betrayed you, but i needed you to be alive. For...whatever reason. I guess cos y'know.. a 12 year old needs a parent. You came home and the meds they gave you calmed you down, but you liked that too much. You quickly became dependent, actually you still are. You contradict yourself too often.

         Don't you remember what I have been put through..? By you, mostly. You were and still are so hypocritical that it makes me chuckle. Sigh- anyways, I couldn't fully comprehend anything you said during our visit. I couldn't gather the energy to move nor look at you, let alone reply to your bullshit motherhood quotes.

        You left when the time was up, two weeks go by in a blur still ever so slowly, and they transfer me. People were able to reach out to me. A handful of people I love and cherish which includes my sister, my father, his girlfriend... the woman who has been more of a mother to me than you ever were.

       It didn't take much time after me being in that God forsaken inpatient facility for me to be pulled aside by a nurse in a confidential manner. My brain threw around every possible reason as to why she was doing this.

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

Am I going home?

Are they moving me again?

What did I do wrong?

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

  ~ Nothing, stop with the assumptions~

    She informed me that I had received multiple calls from a woman saying she is my mother but she couldn't pass it through because another woman, who ALSO claimed to be my parent/caregiver, had requested that this number (she was giving me )go on a restricted no contact list. She handed me a sheet of paper with with a number on it. Buttttt, it wasn't yours. So I had no idea what was going on. Who's my caregiver? Did my sister put you on the no call list? Nope. It wasn't your number and you never do wrong, so you denied having anything to do with that whole thing. I decided to call the number while the addiction groups were in the other room. I had no reason to be there so I had time to meditate, draw, socialize, or find out who was on the other end of that phone line.

It's obvious what I chose.

It took a few tries until someone finally answered. When they did I felt like an idiot. How could I not know.

You hated her because of how hard she tried to see me and my siblings. You had so many hateful things to say about her, yet no validation. It made you angrier when you told us about her then made her out to be a bad guy and we still got in touch with her. You hated that, didn't you. You hated it because the truth was going to come out if we found her.

Lady, I met my real mother when i was 11 years old. That was the day my father bought my favorite hat… a black fedora with a blue stripe inside of a purple stripe in the middle (which I still own). I was wearing this black shirt with a red graphic design on the front and back that was WAY too baggy on me and a pair of cuffed blue jeans, I do believe. It's been eight years, I have great memory but I'm not special like that.

If it weren't for daddy, my sister, and my brother... I would've never known who she was. Well, when I finally got ahold of my biological mother on the phone the day after I received the number by the nurse… she was genuinely upset. She said one thing that will stick to my brain for the rest of my life.

“I lost you once I can't lose you again”

You won't have to.

[fuck-customers]

Few Months worth of BS

So a mix of be hardly getting on tumblr anymore and submissions being closed whenever I am on has caused a pileup of BS stories from both jobs, enjoy. 

Note- Job 1 is gas station cashier, job 2 is Tiny SeaTzars

1. Job 1- it’s like 9am, i’m barely awake and this dude who looks old enough to be my dad comes in. He’s nice enough, pleasant guy, buys his stuff and leaves. Comes back in like 5 seconds later to ask if i’m married. I was 17 at the time so I said “Sir, i’m 17.” and he immediately backpedaled thank the heavens. Creepy enough, yeah? Nope! His first thought was to say “I’m so sorry, it’s just my wife recently passed and I’ve been looking.” To which my manager (my mom) pops around the corner and says “Well you’re looking in the wrong places sugar.” In a lovely tone that screamed “You’re 3 seconds from joining your wife”. He left redder than a tomato and that incident has become a running joke with everyone. 

2. Job 1- Slow day so far, mostly just pissers. (peeps who use the bathroom and don’t buy anything) Dude comes in looking like hell. Fills his own cup up from our fountain and gets pissy when it rings up a whopping $2, says it’s a refill. I tell him we don’t have refill prices. So he goes and switches it out to one of our cups. Then he wants to pay with a card, gets even more pissy when I tell him there’s a $5 minimum on cards, says “that’s bullshit, since when?” Well ever since the card fees aren’t worth it on under $5 purchases, so always. Best part of that is we have LARGE signs on both sides of the door and ON THE FRONT of the fountain machine that say “Due to fees, there is a five dollar minimum purchase requirement on all cards, thank you for your cooperation!” He gets pissed beyond words, my manager tries getting him to calm down, he says “Not right now, you really don’t know the kind of day i’m having.” Things escalated quick and next thing I know he throws his full cup of soda on the floor and stormed out cussing up a storm. I ran after him and got his plate number as my manager called the cops but they couldn’t get anything from it so he’s never been found and ugh. Prick. Prick is all I can say.

3. Job 2- Someone actually called Tiny SeaTzars to ask for the hours of the CFK (backwards) next door. Just… really?

4. Job 2- We have a new dude, on like his second week. If a pizza is expired (been in the box for over an hour) we workers can eat it. Boy he was happy about that. Thing is, he’s almost always eating. Wasn’t working Friday but got told Saturday. It’s about 6pm, y'know, near peak rush hour when we can easily make a $2k hour, and he’s in the back leisurely eating pizza. Everyone else is busting their ass and he’s eating. Makeline dude had to leave his post to get sauce (because SOMEONE wasn’t at his post where he could be asked to get it for him so makeline doesn’t have to LEAVE THEIR POST IN THE MIDDLE OF A RUSH) and found him and chews him out, and thankfully he got a writeup for it. But just??? Bruh what level of stupidity/obliviousness do you gotta be on to see everyone rushing and running around you and think “Oh, time to eat some pizza.” ????

4. Job 1- Lady I don’t know comes up to the pump and sets of the bell that says someone’s trying to get gas. We have some regulars that we just release it and they’re trusted to come in and pay after, otherwise we’re prepay. However, I have never seen this chick before since I’ve worked here so not doing that. I tap her pump on my screen to shut it up and wait for her to come in. She does, all smiles, and says hi. I ask what I could help her with, she gets a confused look on her face and says “I need gas.” and I tell her we’re prepay. Bitch mode starts to wind up and she asks in a pissy voice “Really? Since when?” and I tell her “Since the station opened.” and then she says “Hmph, okay, I’ll talk to Sean (store owner) about that.” and leaves. Like, okay? We’re prepay, you’re not gonna change that by talking to the boss, who will tell you we are prepay. I don’t get people who think they can namedrop my boss to scare me??? Like “I know Sean.” Yeah, he runs a mechanic shop, half the county knows him, your point?? Best part is when they mispronounce his name or get it entirely wrong. “Yeah, me and Shane have been friends since we were kids.” Well good for you and Shane, but that ain’t helping you with SEAN.

5. Job 2- Lady calls in a 10 pizza order to be picked up the next day at 10am. We don’t open until 10:30. I try telling her and she get’s angry but tried meeting in the middle for 10:15. Talked to my managers and they said no way before 10:30. Tell her and she gets so pissed. “For such a big order you can’t get there 15 minutes early to open?” Okay first of all, do you really believe that we get here at 10:30 and open up? What the fuck are we going to sell?? We need to count down the registers, prep the toppings, make sheetouts and stock the hotboxes. We’re here at 6am or better just so we CAN open up at 10:30. We can’t just open the doors at 10:15 because if there’s more customers waiting around we’ll have to serve them when we’re NOT ready because we let you in, and then it snowballs into “well you were open this early yesterday/last week/blahblah” and then we get in trouble. In the end she cancelled her order and asked for corporates number. 

6. Job 2- Sunday after-church rush. Coworker calls in to ask for when he works next. Manager flat out tells him to get up and come check for himself because we can’t stop and look for him right now and hangs up. Seriously dude, literally EVERYONE knows to take a picture of the schedule when it’s posted. You hang around for half an hour before you leave every day anyway so wtf is stopping you from being an adult and taking a picture of your hours?? He called back like three times over the next few hours and we finally slowed down and told him but my god how stubborn and lazy do you have to be.

7. Job 1- Dude and his friend come in, one goes the the bathroom, the other gets some candy (which is RIGHT on the other side of my counter) and then goes looking around the shelves for other stuff. Buddy comes back to pay for gas and other guy leaves. I tell bathroom boy to hold on and I do a quick survey of the shelves find nothing, then go out to their car and see candy snatcher reclined in the seat eating the Reese’s he just took. I tapped on the window and the dude about jumped a foot in the air. I said “So, do you wanna pay for that or should I just go on and call the cops on you for shoplifting?” and luckily the dude doesn’t try fighting it and comes back in and tells his friend to pay for it. Friend is notably pissed and just glares at him. Tells me to just put whatever change is left after the candy in gas and heads out. Sincerely hope his friend at least thunked him in the back of the head for trying, and failing, at being a petty candy thief. 

8. Job 2- Ever since I’ve gotten glasses my eyes have been bloodshot almost a constant 24/7. Eyedrops clear it up for maybe an hour or two. The first few days the “are you high” question and jokes were kinda funny and amusing, but it’s been two months and it’s still going on. I would just stop wearing my glasses but I need them to legally drive (astigmatism in both eyes) so ugh.

9. Job 1- Once again, the station is prepay. It’s written on every pump in very large letters above every handle. Please tell me why these 5 asian guys (I think relevant? They didn’t seem to understand me well so maybe language block?) could not get it through their heads that they have to pay before they get their gas. They come in saying the pump isn’t working, I say we’re prepay, you have to pay before you get it. One of them goes to hand me his card and I ask how much in gas he’d like. Confusion. Ended up having to explain what prepay was (felt like a tool because of it) and they ended up leaving saying “Okay, we go to station down the street.” And I just.. Okay? Every station in the county is prepay but okay, you do you. Honestly this is more of a “I hope I didn’t offend them” than a fuck them thing. Felt bad I couldn’t help them.

10. Job 2- We ran out of green peppers, so one of our supremes is off the menu unless they’re fine with no peppers. Dude calls and wants the pepper supreme. I tell him we’re out of green pepper and he goes into upset toddler mode. 

Him: “Out of peppers, are you kidding me? How does that even happen?!”

Me: “Well, it’s kinda a supply and demand thing, Sir. If it’s a popular topping we’ll run out of it quick.”

H: “How can you run out of peppers it’s a pizza store you’d think you’d be able to tell when to order more of a topping!!”

And we don’t order it ourselves? We take count and tell our District Manager that we need things and he’s supposed to order them for us? (Dumb system I know but it’s what’s in place) 

In the end he asked for a manager and just hung up when he said the same thing. Found out he left a review on google about us. “Horribly unprepaired for the simplest of orders.” okay buddy, take the one star review and shove it up your ass.

11. Job 2- This one girl I go to school with got hired on. She seemed nice enough, we never talked before but apparently she knew me. She’s a decent worker (few nit-picky things, nothing bad) but… She makes me want to hit her sometimes. I get it, you’re trying to be funny/bubbly/joking/whatever, but I don’t know you well enough for you to be making jokes off of my appearance? I’m aware I that have a slightly larger than average head, I don’t like attention being drawn to it, especially randomly? We’re stretching dough and she just randomly says “You got a big ass head you know that? A big ass head.” and laughs. Like… Thanks, it’s not like that was a point of ridicule in the past or anything. And then while we’re washing dishes she gets mad and threatens to beat me for, wait for it, splashing her with water.

At the sink.

While doing dishes.

And she’s too extra with her reactions. Little extra is funny, I admit, but she is over the top. I was washing deep dish pans and a flake of bread flew off and hit her with some water. She spat and did that little “pthptpthpthtpht” thing  for almost an entire minute, then went on to say “We gonna throw hands if you do that again” I just… Kindly shut the fuck up and let me to dishes by myself if you’re gonna be such an extra [word that almost got this post deleted] like that okay? Just kindly fuck off.

I have plenty more but I feel like this post is too long as is. Enjoy my suffering and expect more to come.