#you can call her out but her actions don't allow you to call her slurs or a “fake woman” ????!

[anchorandrope]

don't get me wrong, im 100% against stalking culture but if you are gonna talk it about it only when it happens in latinamerica, asia and africa i believe you might be xenophobic! actually, most of stalking events happens in usa and europe so yeah we should collectively agree stalking is horrible and must be stopped but if you use a stalking situation to call other people racist and xenophobic stuff or you are gonna stay silent when the exact same thing or worst happens in your country you might be a problem!

[loggiepj]

lizzie

Summary: just an angsty one shot story 😂✌🏳️‍🌈

"TOM SAID she had been using Rooney to gain more credits to her work, always insisting to come along Rooney when she's in film productions, pretending she was only supporting her then girlfriend just so she could give her scripts to producers. And she did this while cheating on her behind her back."

You bit your lip to stop yourself from bursting into tears, hand on your chest, slipping to your collarbone then up to your neck as you willed yourself to breathe.

"That's awful," you heard Lizzie's beautiful voice slurring through the confines of the comfort room, through the door of the cubicle you were trapped in. "I can't believe she could do such a thing. She was so sweet and all, I thought . . . I thought—"

"Oh, we thought so too, Liz," another person chimed in, "but don't be easily fooled. I heard Rooney's lawyer will be filing a case against her sometime soon."

Your other hand went to embrace yourself, clutching against the side of your sweater as you might lose it.

"It was a risk on the producer's part to still include her in this film," said another, "knowing her reputation."

In the following silence, you could hear Elizabeth's sigh. "God, I wouldn't have known."

It was complete torture, having to listen through it all, having to witness how someone you had grown close to in the past few weeks could crush you down in an instant. Five minutes and thirty seven seconds, to be exact.

As if the gods above had acknowledged you had suffered enough, they eventually left the comfort room and began discussing about the next scenes as they walked through the door.

When you heard the door shut close, you broke down. The kind of cry where you seemed to be running out of air to breathe, as if you had been clawing your insides until there's nothing left. You didn't think it was possible to cry for someone like this. You felt like a kid, but you couldn't wail louder since anyone could just walk into the toilet.

The gossips you had endured during highschool, about you being gay, had nothing in comparison to what just happened. Especially the one who was involved was someone special to you. And it felt worse coming from her. To think that Lizzie would actually believe them, believe the rumors circulating about you. To think that she could be different from others. But you'd thought wrong.

It all started with Rooney. She was an actress you fell in love with when you got to work with her and Tom in Carol movie. You had been together with Rooney for almost six years. And yet for one simple action, a drunk crewmate kissing you on the lips inside the producer's room, mistaking you as his girlfriend, Rooney threw everything.

It was all one big misunderstanding. One night, you were just making love. The next, you weren't allowed to enter the penthouse you were both staying, considering Rooney owned that unit and you gave up yours when you moved in with her.

Her sister, Kate, the ever merciful one, contacted you afterwards the sudden eviction, saying that she would try to persuade Rooney to be at least forgiving to let you stay for the meantime while you were looking for another place to live.

But that didn't happen. After that incident, rumors of you cheating started to spread around in the industry, some were exaggerated to give that appeal. And no one trusted you anymore, that you would only use people to your own benefit.

If you weren't only friends with the director of the current film you were working with, you wouldn't have any project.

And then you met Elizabeth Olsen.

You can call me Lizzie, by the way, was what she said when the two of you first talked.

Lizzie had a very distinctive and elegant appearance. She had fair skin, light brown hair, and expressive eyes that were usually a striking green. She was almost an inch taller than you, but if she wore heels, you'd always look up to her whenever the two of you were talking.

You knew her from her massive role as Wanda Maximoff in Marvel Universe films, and you even used to idolize her as someone who's good in everything, no matter what genre the film she was in.

And you both just instantly clicked, like you were made for each other. You could talk to her for hours and hours through the production days, either before the filming would start, during breaks or at the end of the day. She would also share everything to you, with enthusiasm to your mutual interests, as if you were long-time friends. She looked at you without judgment, making you wonder if she knew about the rumors, the one thing that could destroy this newfound promising relationship. Knowing Lizzie wasn't into social media and stuff was what kept you asleep most nights.

You had even asked her to a date that weekend and you both enjoyed it to the fact that she almost invited you inside her nearby apartment when you gave her a ride home. There was this kind of feeling you feel whenever she was around, sometimes butterflies, sometimes longing.

But everything crumbled down when a newcomer saw the two of you flirting with each other.

YOU SPLASHED some cold water into your face as you prepared yourself to face the outside world, hoping it wasn't that obvious that you were just crying seconds ago.

When you went back to the studio to get some work done, you saw Lizzie on one corner practicing some lines with her co-star.

Maybe you were only overthinking it. Maybe she would see you through, talk to you about it, listen to your side of the story. But when you approached them, they only went silent.

"Hey," you greeted, trying to diminish any awkwardness.

"Hi Y/n," Lizzie replied with a smile, "we're just quickly rehearsing for the next scene."

"Oh, okay, sorry to bother you both," you said, "I'll just talk to you later then."

She only smiled back as she went back to her script. You would have just let it go if it weren't for the fact that she would always choose to talk to you.

LATER was no different as you went to knock against the door of her trailer upon hearing Lizzie's laughter inside. Abruptly, the laughters died, and you swore you could hear shushing. When her friend opened the door the second time you knocked, said friend only told you Lizzie wasn't in there even when you knew she was.

THROUGH the days that followed, it was slowly sinking in that maybe they got her too. That Lizzie believed them too.

You tried to give Lizzie the benefit of the doubt. That maybe she was only busy, knowing the most critical scenes were being shot. But you had probably sent her a lot of messages to which Lizzie had only replied words fewer and bland as compared to the older ones she had sent you.

WHEN you tried to approach Lizzie during one of the breaks, surprising her with your favorite cheesecake she said she liked, she thanked you rather hurriedly.

"Thanks, Y/n," she said. "You shouldn't have."

"It's fine," you said back, brushing her off as she tried to return the box to you. "I was in the area earlier when I passed by the store, and I remembered you wanting to eat another slice of it."

What was redness that you used to see adorned on Lizzie's cheeks, was inexistent as she hesitantly accepted the gift. You could tell she was sporting a smile you had seen her do whenever she was uncomfortable during interviews.

It gave you the kick to stop whatever this was you were doing. You then decided not to torture her anymore with how forward you were. It was clear she didn't want anything to do with you. That you were just mere friends in passing. That that date was only that. Nothing more.

"Lizzie!" someone called her from afar, apparently saving her from this awkward interaction. Saving you both.

"Shoot, sorry, Y/n," she said with an apologetic smile. "I have to leave, but thank you again for this. You're too sweet for this world."

You forced a huge smile her way. "Yeah, no worries. See you later."

BUT YOU had avoided her later. You had avoided them. And through the days that followed, you began distancing yourself from the cast and crew, knowing now what they had been talking behind your back. You just went to the studio to help work with the script then went back straight home. No more small talks in the hallway as you passed by them, occasionally wearing a hoodie over your face, wishing it was Harry Potter's cloak of invisibility.

At nights, you stared at the photos of the two of you together during production and even that one dinner date you had at a private restaurant, wondering how two individuals went from these to complete strangers.

You couldn't help but wonder if Lizzie has missed you at all. But when you glanced at her from a distance whenever you couldn't avoid not coming to the studio, laughing and making vlog with her co-stars and makeup artists, you could feel she was glad she dodged a bullet that was you. That she almost went out with someone like you, someone who couldn't be trusted.

You had even stopped eating your favorite cheesecake, knowing it would only remind you of her. Lesson learned. Never suggest your favorites to anyone.

THAT was when you started hanging out with Emma Watson, whom you had gotten closer as you were part of her writing crew in another film you were working for.

She had well defined cheekbones and chocolate brown eyes. But what stood out the most was her English accent. Sometimes, you just wanted to listen to her talk all day.

Emma already knew the rumors about you, and called them bullshit. Maybe it was the British in her, but she told you she didn't care about anyone's past other than first impressions. Besides, if she weren't a fan of your works, she wouldn't have given a chance to know you.

When she revealed to you she liked girls too, you grew more comfortable around her.

You also started to make friends with the other film's crew, and maybe that was what you needed, what you were missing. You no longer felt sad or lonely whenever you were around them. And having to fit two jobs in a day, it felt different having something to look forward to whenever you finished working for Lizzie's film. Good kind of different.

"WAIT, you're already leaving? Are you not going with us?" your director friend asked the moment he saw you packing things up, preparing to leave.

"What do you mean?"

"Liz invited the whole cast and crew for a housewarming party at her new house," he replied.

You had no idea but who were you to receive first invitation from her in the first place. You were a nobody.

"Oh I . . . I actually am needed to get this edit reviewed," you said, easily making up an excuse. Although technically, it wasn't a lie.

"That's a bummer. I was pretty sure Liz said to invite you too." He sighed. "Well, don't work yourself too hard, Y/n."

You only smiled back as you left, staying out of sight from others, keeping distance away from the lobby where you could see the whole cast chatting as they waited for the car service to get to Lizzie's house. And for a brief moment, you caught sight of the woman who once captured your heart, broke it and left to rot. Elizabeth looked so beautiful and fresh even after a day's production, and she was wearing that jacket she stole from you that very first day.

"HAVE you ever loved someone?"

You had been staring at your notifications, watching for what seemed like hours at Lizzie's messages asking where you were and why you weren't at her housewarming party.

You didn't even noticed Emma had asked you a question until she nudged your shoulder.

"Sorry, what?" you asked, slipping your phone into your pocket.

"I asked if you've ever loved someone? Any lovers? Girlfriends? Boyfriend? Flings?" she asked teasingly, "It's just I haven't seen you around with anyone."

"I mean, you've heard the rumors—"

"Fuck all the rumors, I'm not blind, Y/n," Emma interrupted. "You're actually gorgeous. It could cause a scandal."

Avoiding the girl's gaze, you laughed at her. "What are you suggesting?"

There was complete silence, making you look back at Emma deep in thoughts.

"What do you say about you becoming my girlfriend?"

"What?"

"It's just for PR stuff and all," she reasoned. "And for promoting this movie."

"Promoting? They'd hate you. They'd hate me more."

"At least, it would be a distraction from the public. I haven't actually come out as gay but I've provided signs, yet people just turn a blind eye. And this will help confirm my sexuality. If they hated me for dating the rumored you, they'd hate me less for being gay."

You fell silent as you thought about it.

"My PR manager will pay you, of course. You're saving up for a house, right? I want to help you."

Then she looked at her hands on her lap, nervous. "Besides, you're the only one I felt comfortable doing this with." She then glanced back at you. "So . . . Are you with me?"

WHEN you started going out with Emma publicly, the photos of you together holding hands in public immediately spread through the news and gossip channels. You started to become famous, more on the bad side though, of how you were only using Emma again for your selfish reasons and how stupid Emma was for dating you.

At least, there were only a few articles about how disappointed they were Emma turned out to be gay. People were more disappointed she was dating a parasite.

IT WAS almost a month after when you received a missed call from your ex girlfriend Rooney. And she had called you multiple times until you blocked her number. And when she figured out you blocked her, she sent you numerous emails.

Emma was with you as you anxiously worked through the next scene's script.

"You okay?" Emma asked, her hand on your shoulder made you jump on your seat. "Sorry."

"It's okay," you managed to reply.

"What are you worrying about?"

You hesitated, frown growing deeper. "It's just . . . I think my ex girlfriend will finally end my career."

"How?"

"She's going to file a case against me," you said, almost in tears.

"Is that what you think she's going to do?" She chuckled softly.

"What are you giggling about? It's not funny."

"Sorry," she went on still laughing, "but you have to see this."

Apparently, Rooney had posted a public apology addressed to you, clearing you out, redeeming your image, and admitting it was her jealousy that ended your relationship, that she was willing to destroy her career in exchange for yours. And that she wanted so badly to talk to you if you'd only let her.

It felt like a relief as you saw the ones who reposted the post, as you read the comments from people defending you and supporting you, that Emma was a better choice than Rooney. It felt like the weight of the world was taken off your shoulder.

Emma then wrapped her arms around you as you sobbed into her chest. And she only let you.

Some weeks later, Emma asked you out on a date. A real date, saying she was willing to try. Maybe it was Rooney's post that made her trust you. Maybe she was just scared. But you also wanted to try it with her.

Rooney eventually stopped contacting you. The damage has already been done. One day, you may be able to forgive her. But never to forget.

MAYBE the public apology was what made Lizzie finally approached you during the last few days in the production. She brought you a gift, the cheesecake that used to be your favorite. Now, you didn't like how too sweet it was, wanting nothing more than to savor Cornish pasty introduced by your girlfriend Emma.

"Hey, Y/n," she greeted. "I . . . I brought you this."

"Thank you, Lizzie," you said, accepting with haste.

There was awkward silence as she placed her hands inside the pockets of her jeans. "Last day, huh? You want to go for sushi later? My treat."

And maybe it really was the public post Rooney made that made her finally talk to you, as if she was still the same person she was the first time you met. And as if you were still interested in her as you were months ago.

"Sorry, I have to meet Em for dinner tonight," you said, smiling apologetically.

"It's fine, it's fine," she said, brushing you off with a forced chuckle. "So, it's true you two are dating, huh?"

You nodded, avoiding the brunette's gaze. "Yeah, it is."

"She doesn't know how lucky she is."

You paused, wondering why you were no longer feeling any butterflies in your stomach whenever she was around. "I'm the lucky one, actually. Goodnight, Elizabeth."

"G-Goodnight, Y/n."

Like you said, the damage was already done.

[hwanchaesong]

━⁠☞🍽️ Fifth Course: Watching his delish life in pictures comes with a sense of dread. Isn't it vexing that he's living the life while you're out there vomiting in pungent public restrooms? 🥢

🎧: Olivia Rodrigo - Good 4 U

wc: 543

genre & warnings: angst like yn is really mad lmao, nonidol!san, yn is drunk af, mentions of alcohol and drinking, cursing, lovers to exes, betrayal, mentions of vomit etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The Sour Restaurant series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

"Y/N, you really should stop drinking excessively y-"

"Shut the fuck up!" you slurred, slumping on the wall of your bathroom and glaring at your ex whom your friends did the honor of calling to get you home safely.

San sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he's had enough of your childish antics. You two have already broken up a few months ago so really, you are not supposed to be his responsibility.

Still, he's not that merciless. He can't just allow you to go home by yourself where potential danger could get you killed. Unless your liver suddenly decides to give up on you.

His kindness does nothing but to further aggregate you, though.

No, not kindness. Consideration.

Yes, that's the right word.

It infuriates you to no end that even in the middle of the night, he comes running to the bar and picks you up to get you to your apartment in one piece.

But what you hated more is seeing him in a state of good life.

After all the shit he's put you through. You're here still suffering the repercussions of his actions while he's out there being happy and lovey-dovey with your former best friend.

Truly a vomit-inducing situation even without the help of alcohol.

Imagine, back then, if you would have known that they'd get together after he dumped you for no reason then you wouldn't have trusted them.

Fucking hell.

It did you no good to remember that shitty place that you promised not to visit ever again. But life ain't that easy, because if it is, then you'd be rich and happily married to the love of your life.

You were snapped out of your maddening stupor when his phone rang, not paying attention as he excused himself and chose to fixate your gaze on the crack of your bathroom floor.

Then again, sometimes, you hear bullshit when you don't need it the most.

He's talking to her. In your house. In a very loving voice. The same tone that he used to utilize whenever he speaks with you, now reserved for someone else.

"Yes baby, I'll be home in a while, okay? Okay. I'll see you later. I love you so much."

Disgusting, vile creatures that are incapable of feeling guilt. Oh, how you wish you could just strike them with thunder so they can finally go to hell, where they can burn together.

"Y/N I will h-"

"Get out here." you mumble lowly, standing up from your position and he frowns.

"What's your problem?" he asks, confused as to why you're acting sober and gloomy.

You laugh weakly, coming closer to him only to push him out of the bathroom, "My problem is none of your business. So, get the hell out of my apartment and do not ever, fucking ever show your face to me again."

You did not give him the chance to reply as you shut the door on his face, your whole body flopping on the cold tiles.

Soon enough, you heard the main door of your apartment close and you can't help but chuckle despite the tears streaming down your face.

It really is not difficult for him to leave you after all.

taglist:

@acciocriativity @iarayara @stolasisyourparent @xdannix @nsixns @heartssol @vixensss @shakalakaboomboo

[your-girl-mj]

whiney when drunk [1610!miles × drunk!reader]

summary: [name] drinks too much, and miles has to face its consequences.

warning: mention of skintone, but i think it was harmless. kinda cringe, but she's drunk, so what can i say?

note: based on a scene from "Hidden Love" when the girl got drunk. she/her for reader, he/him for miles

created: august 7, 2023

published: august 9, 2023

first part | second part

miles were in the middle of his homework, and the paper is consist with equations and small doodles on the side. his head booping at the music from his headphones, tapping his pen every now and then.

his work came to a halt when his phone rang and the music stopped. the device moves the slightest as it vibrates on the hard surface of his desk.

checking the caller id, a smile tugged his lips, seeing it was his girlfriend. "hola, mamí." he greeted his eyes, caught the clock, and it was already nine, almost ten. "are you finished hanging out? want me to pick you up?" miles asked, already standing up from his seat.

miles knew it was [name] and her friend's outing since they all passed their finals. she asked him to come as well, but he still needs to finish his homework for college. "..hello?" a slur voice erupts from the device, making miles frown his brows in confusion. he struggled to put his suit on with one hand as the other held the phone.

"[name], are drunk?" he frowned. It's not like he's not allowing her to drink. he just doesn't want her to get drunk and feel horrible in the morning after. and of course, especially when there are boys in her friend group. "you said you don't drink."

"...i don't." she answered before a little giggle followed right after. "i miss my boyfriend..." her hand was leaning on a table. her vision is blurry, and her body seems to be disobedient today and does not help her balance. "my... adorable spidey—"

"okay, okay!" he cut her off his nervousness are rising up at the thought of his girlfriend exposing his identity because she's drunk, quickly putting his jordans in a bag as well as things he knew she'll need, then rushing to get his keys. "don't drink anymore, okay?"

"mm.." she hummed, looking around the restaurant. picking a food from her plate and eat it. her head is too fuzy to think straight and following the first thing that comes to her mind.

"can you tell me where you are?" miles rubs a hand over his face, a little disappointed that she drinks a little too much than she couldn't handle.

"[adress.]" she said in a slow and low voice. her eyes were dropping as it was only two hours before midnight.

"wait there, I'm on my way." he puts on his mask and jumps off his window. his other hand still cling on his phone.

"whhhyy?" she squint her eyes, tilting her head before she soon feels like her head is weighted two times heavier and presses her temple on the cold surface of the table, resting it there.

her friends calling her name in the background, but she paid no mind to them, wanting to only hear her boyfriend's voice.

"because I'm going to pick up a drunkard." with that miles hangup. leaving a very confused [name] on the other side.

"a what?" she sat up straight, migraine swirl in her head making her massage her head. "miles? hello?" looking at her phone, the girl only saw her lockscreen of her and miles. [name] clicked her tongue, "you can come here and you'll see me, but when i come there, i won't see you." she frowns at the image of miles in her phone. "you're so weird..."

"i'll be off," she announced to her friend group, taking her bag with a drowsy action. as she stood, her feet were giving her a hard time to walk straight.

a series of goodbyes are heard as she slowly walked her way out. pushing the door with all her left out strength, it didn't budge as she thought it would. "girl, how much did you drink?" the voice of a friend came to her side, helping her pull the door open.

"i don't know.." she blurb out, "miles is going to..pick me up, you don't have to come.." [name] lightly push her friend back to the entrance. "have fun in there.."

"no, no, no. I'll get back when your boyfriend shows up," her friend insisted, holding her arm to steady her body. "you okay?"

"no," [name] answered, getting out of her friend's grasp and crouching down with her head leaning on her knees. "i feel like throwing up..." her voice coming out as mumbled, her friend slowly rubbing circles on her back.

miles, finally in his civilian clothes; jogged up to where the said place is. a sigh left him as he saw his girl sitting down on the floor with a friend by her side.

"oh, hey! you're here," her friend greeted, noticing miles, standing up straight. [name] leaning her body into her friend's leg. "it was a mistake to make her drink, we're sorry."

"nah, it's good." he nods, then meets his girl's eye level. [name] slowly lift her head up and meet his disappointed face. the girl only scoffed at him, frowning.

"who are you?" her eyes squinted as she tried to look harder and tried to figure out why he looked familiar. miles couldn't stop a chuckle to get out.

"your boyfriend." he answered, his negative feelings are now gone. he waved back to her friend as she made her way inside.

"no, you're not." huffing, she turned away from him. still sitting down on the street.

"then, i'm a friend of your boyfriend."

"no, you're not... i only know one."

"and who is it?" he started to get along with whatever she had in her mind. slowly taking her hands, and tried to pull her up.

"ganke, and he's asian.. and white." she mumbled, standing up as he pulled her. miles came to a conclusion that she'll be an easy target for kidnapping. "and you're not white..." she leaned her body into his, taking a short nap. her voice is now talking nonsense.

"no, i'm not." he laughed, slowly taking her arm and guiding her on the way to take a cab. his other hand held tightly on her waist, not wanting her to fall. "you're whiny when you're drunk." shaking his head, a smile still plastered on his lips

it only took a short while before she protested, "don't touch me," scolding him, [name] pulled away from him and sat down once again, "i have a boyfriend. and i'm waiting for him.."

miles are smiling ear to ear as she refuses to take his hand because she thinks he is a stranger, "but i'm your boyfriend." he sat down as well. it was a good thing they stopped in a park with no people around.

"you are..?" she tilted her head, looking at him clearly now. miles only replied with a hum, nodding. [name] took his face and observed it carefully. miles thought she's getting more adorable as second pass by. "miles!" she broke into a grin, squeezing his face.

"hey!" he lightly greets her, mimicking her beam. "you finally recognise me," placing his hand aboves hers, he caresses the back of her palm.

"i missed youuu!" [name] whined, the alcohol is taking major effects. as tears coming out of her eyes, pouting at him, "but you don't miss me.."

"aw, mamí.. i missed you every day. " bring her hand to his lips, and he kissed her palm. smiling at her with a lovesick grin.

"you don't..." she cried, taking her hand away; wiping her eyes. miles blink at her, confused why would she think that way.

"i do, [nickname].." he took her hands again, rubbing it gently.

"you don't." her face is flushed, hazy eyes are fighting for consciousness. "you said we're gonna— we're gonna have a date and then... you cancelled..again!" she started to cry for the second time tonight. her voice cutting off on its own as it was hard for her to talk while sobbing. "you don't love me anymore..!"

what makes it worse, her sobs made her migraine throb much more. miles can only feel guilt in his chest. he chose not to explain it tonight since he knows she'll not remember anything and that he can focus on taking care of her. but how?

his head was in a fuzz, not knowing what to do. is this why she doesn't drink? "i do love you, [nickname]." she cried even harder, making miles in a full panic. "don't cry, don't cry, baby..." he pulled out wipes from his bag and wiped her face gently. "...how much did you drink?"

"dunno'... it was on a small cup. hehe, cute cup.." [name]'s face is red from her cries and the effect of the drinks. she stays still as miles clean her face, "i feel sick..."

"i know you do, let it out. you'll feel better," her boyfriend pulled out a plastic bag and held it for her.

"no! it's disgusting..." her eyes are now close, her head bopping before miles catching and made her lean into him. "i love you..." she mumbled, nuzzling on his chest. a pout is still present.

"i love you too, [nickname.]" he kisses her forehead, giving her a tight embrace, rocking her back and forth in slow motion. the guilt is still present.

"kiss?" she perk her lips up, wanting to give her a peck. miles waste no time to fulfil her wish and give her a short yet sweet kiss.

"you taste like booze." he commented. she's so wasted that she can't even feel her own feet.

she suddenly opened her eyes at him, her lips started to wobble and started to cry again, "i'm sorry...! i didn't mean toooo!" she sobbed.

miles could only blink at her, and a chuckle escaped him. "it's okay, mami. you're okay," a snort followed.

[name] looked at him betrayed, "you're laughing..." this made miles purse his lip, taking all his might to not laugh. "you're making fun of meeee," she then layed down on the cold floor, lazily swinging her arms.

who knew booze can change a whole person's personality?

miles did his best not to laugh, "no, i'm not laughing, [nickname]," he took her hands and carry her to her feet, the boy is biting down a grin as she kept looking at his face, "i'm not making fun of you, it's okay you got drunk."

"but you're mad!" she throws her head back, huffing. her head feels heavy all of a sudden, and everything is blurry like before. miles was quick to put a support behind her head, confused by what she meant.

"mad? why would i get mad?" Scooping her by her hips and back, miles carried her like a princess. he made sure his girl was comfortable before walking, doing his best to not sway too much.

[name] snuggled into his arms as he carried her, "on the phone.. you're mad because i got dru...nk ..." her voice trailed off, slowly getting others taken by sleep, "but i love you so..." with that, she's finally sleeping soundly on his chest.

miles smiled at her, she looks so beautiful even with a rough night like this. kissing her forehead, he replied to her words. "yo tambien te amo, mi vida." [i love you too, my life.]

should i make a "morning after" part?

edit: morning after part <3 here

[s-creations]

PDA - RadioStatic One-Shot Collection

Collection of 10 one-shots (5 for Alastor, 5 for Vox) that revolve around some actions that related to PDA. As stated from some website article that I read and don't remember which one it is.

This was just an idea that came to me and I feel that there needs to be more RadioStatic fluff for this fandom. So I'm here to provide.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Alastor/Vox (RadioStatic) Warnings/Additional Tags: Rosie mentioned, Mimsy mentioned, unnamed sinner, slight depictions of violence, a lot of fluff, so much fluff, call the dentist because this is going to cause some cavities, warning on a use of a slur, small moments of rivalry between Alastor and Valentino, additional tags to come if needed.

Alastor

1) Sitting in Their Lap

Even if his mate was the owner of the largest tech company. Even if he had promised to carry around the infernal contraption with him to ease Vox’s mind. Even if said contraption was built specifically with him in mind. Even with all of these valid reasons, Alastor still hated cell phones. More so when that annoying vibration interrupted his evening. 

Letting out a heavy sigh, Alastor placed his book aside to better pick the wretched thing up off the side table. There was a sting of worry when he saw ‘Velvette - Social Media Bitch!’ (which she had put in) on the screen. Pressing his pointer finger against the answer button, he raised it to his ear. 

“Hello, Velvette. How can I help you this fine evening?”

“You need to get Vox, now.”

Alastor’s ears twitched, but his face remained impassive. “I see. How bad is it?”

“He’s been working for four days straight! He won’t eat, he won’t answer or even open the door.”

At that point, Alastor heard Valentino’s voice calling out in rather heavy desperation “Open the fucking door!” followed by furious banging. 

“Vox locked you out in every way, it would seem.” Alastor replied casually, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Which is why I’m calling you.”

“Fret not my dear, I’ll be over soon. Tell Valentino to stop trying to break the door down before he actually breaks something. More of himself than the door.”

Alastor ended the call before the other could answer back. Allowing himself to let his frustration show, the air filled with heavy static. He knew Vox had been at work for a few days. But had stupidly assumed the younger would actually eat and sleep without the need of Alastor to remind him. 

Apparently not.

“You workaholic idiot.” Alastor hissed out, allowing the shadows to wrap around him. Easily pulling him into the dark void to traverse across Hell.

The workers and other residents of VeesTower were used to having Alastor appear out of nowhere on occasion. So none were taken aback as the Radio Demon appeared suddenly. All situated around the large door that led to Vox’s office. Clearly more worried about the Media Overlord’s well-being than Alastor’s arrival. 

“Fucking finally!” Velvette walked over, anger being used to hide her concern. “Take him to that stupid hotel or some restaurant or something, I don’t care. Just get him out of there!”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” Alastor said while patting Velvette’s head. Easily avoiding the bite attempt to said hand. “I’ll handle this easily. You all can scooch back to your normal routine of whatever you find so important.”

He didn’t wait for them to move before sinking into the shadows once more. Appearing in the Media Overlord’s office the next second. 

The technological fortress was still a nightmare for Alastor. Even if he and Vox were partners, that didn’t mean he enjoyed all the lights and noise and coldness this place seemed to bring. The way eyes had to be glued to a screen to get any kind of entertainment or information just rubbed him the wrong way. Alastor was the tilted Radio Demon for a reason after all. Even with his distaste for this all, he also knew it was the reason they worked so well together. 

Radio and Television, the Powerhouse of Entertainment. 

Trademark Vox.

That sought after power, however, only worked so well if they were put together. You know, well rested, well fed, and not looking like the dead. Or, well, more like the dead. 

Vox hadn’t looked away from his many screens, plugged directly into the feed through the ports in the back of his head, seemingly trying to take in as much information as he could at once. Seeming unaware that anyone had entered his domain. Finger numbly tapping away at the large keyboard in front of him. Paying no mind as Alastor stepped beside him. 

His first true note of awareness was when he jerked away from Alastor’s hand touching his shoulder. Screens flickering and sparking rather dramatically as Vox finally broke out of his working stupor. When his screen finally returned to normal, Vox’s eyes turned to look at Alastor. Who merely smiled back.

“...Alastor? What are- How did you get in here?”

“You seem to forget I can move through the shadows.” The Radio Demon held back his chuckle as Vox paused to think those words over. 

“No…I know that. But, that… I told you I was working late today.”

Alastor hummed softly. “Yes, you did. That was also about, oh, four days ago.”

“Four? …No, it’s only been a few hours.”

“Plus a few more. Your business colleagues called me in a tizzy with how long you’ve been in here and how you’ve apparently not been eating or sleeping. Which, seeing your collection of empty energy drink cans, speaks very loudly of this.” To emphasize his point, Alastor gently kicked the nearest can. Which caused the others to clang together in a cascade of clattering. 

“Fuck, has it been… Shit, okay, hold on, I have… There are a few things I need to finish and I’ll be done…”

“No, no, no, none of that.” Alastor quickly but gently took hold of Vox’s wrists when the Media Overlord reached for the keyboard once more. “I think you can pass whatever you’ve been working on to one of your many underpaid underlings to handle.”

“Alastor, let go. It won’t take that long…” Vox’s argument fell on deaf ears as Alastor, not only did not let go of his wrists, but also casually plopped himself down into his partner’s lap. “The fuck, Alastor.”

“Apparently my words aren’t enough to convince you. Guess we’re moving onto the next stage.”

“Alastor-”

“Stop struggling-”

“Would you just-”

“You’re making it worse for yourself.”

“God damn it, stop-” Vox’s screech of outrage was cut off as tendrils of shadows now claimed his wrists. Forcing him to wrap his arms around Alastor. Who smiled as if he had no idea what was going on. “I need to work, Alastor!”

“How are you supposed to work if you’re holding me close like this? It seems to me you’re a little needy for attention at the moment.”

Vox really wanted to argue back. But he did note how comfortably tucked around Alastor he was. As well as how easily he was leaning back into the large office chair. Even with a part of his mind screaming to get back to work, it was a very small portion. Which was ever shrinking as Alastor’s fingers gently traveled over the back of his screen. Said demon taking his time to carefully pull the cables out. 

Each time the stream of information quieted down. 

Each time Vox felt himself sinking into Alastor’s warmth. 

Each time the fight to stay awake fell away. 

Alastor watched in fascination as the surrounding screens, Vox’s face included, started to dim. Humming in contentment as Vox’s eyes finally closed and the Media Overlord fell asleep.

There was a moment of annoyance when his cell phone buzzed once more. Pulling it out to find a text awaiting him. 

‘Did you finally get that fucker to sleep?’

Ah, Velvette had an interesting way of showing she cared. Alastor sent off a quick ‘Yes’ before crushing the accursed thing in his hand. Tossing it aside as he turned back to Vox. Alastor was sure he would get an earful from the other when Vox found out when he’d just done. But that was a future issue. 

Right now, Alastor just wanted to remain in the quiet office before debating over which bedroom to head to. 

“For all that I have to do for you,” Alastor dramatically sighed. Even if no one was there to see the performance. “You’d better appreciate that I care for you so.”

+_+_+_+_+_+

2) Holding Hands with Your Partner

There were very few people that Alastor would allow to touch him. Rosie was an obvious one as he was only alive and where he was today because of her. Mimzy was another given. They were friends when they were alive, so why wouldn’t that connection be continued through death. 

It was even rarer that Alastor would intentionally initiate the contact. That he would seek out that ‘human’ touch that so many others craved. While he deeply cared for Rosie and Mimzy, he could never feel that want for their touch. 

Vox was the only being Alastor sought after. 

The Radio Demon established early in their relationship that Vox would join Alastor for his semi-weekly afternoon stroll. As a way for Vox to take a healthy break from his technology empire. It worked well…for a few years. Until Vox created those horrible cell phones. While their walks did continue, it would normally be interrupted by the Media Overlord’s phone going off. Pulling his attention away from the quiet moment. 

Alastor was annoyed at first. But he calmed himself knowing that Vox’s empire had far more moving pieces than his own. So, if Vox had to put out a few fires while they were together, so be it. 

Plus, it resulted in an aspect of a walk that Alastor really enjoyed. 

As Vox tended to not really pay attention to his surroundings while he was discussing on the phone, it was up to Alastor to keep him out of the road. Which resulted in the Radio Demon needing to hook his arm around the other’s. Gripping Vox’s hand gently to properly steer him away from danger. Like unintentionally walking into traffic. 

That was the scene set for the citizens of the Pride Ring. Vox conversed with someone over the phone while Alastor led the way down the sidewalk. Happily squeezing the Media Overlord’s hand with his own while the other hand held his staff. Uncaring as sinners quickly got out of their way. Less obstacles needed to avoid.

The quiet afternoon was shattered when a sinner, Alastor having no idea who, appeared before them. 

“Alastor!” the sinner called out, “That ‘so-called’ dangerous Radio Demon. I’m calling your bullshit out!”

Ah, they were very new apparently. Alastor’s smile tightened as all parties ignored how the street was suddenly cleared of anyone else. 

“Are we feeling bored today?” Alastor replied back casually, “Have nothing better to do?”

“Shut up! I can’t believe you’re the demon so many people are afraid of. You’re a fucking pansy. Holding hands like a faggot with your stupid little flat faced bitch-”

The sinner barely had time to blink before they were consumed by black tendrils erupted beneath them. Only their hand was seen through the mess. A muffled scream barely heard as they were lowered into the shadowy pit. Alastor watched all of this gleefully as the sinner disappeared. 

People could bad mouth him all day and he would call it ‘low level entertainment’. 

Turn that to Vox and that’s where they fuck up.

It all only lasted a few seconds, the road returning to the normal quiet calm when the shadows and sinner disappeared. 

“Yeah, okay, just give them the contract and set up a meeting next week. We’ve worked on this long enough.” Vox let out a huff as he ended the call. When he finally took in his surroundings, he frowned in confusion. “Why did we stop?”

“Just had to worry about some trash. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Alastor smirks gleefully, watching at the rosy hue that appeared on Vox’s screen. 

“Whatever, are we okay to go on?”

“Of course, dear.”

+_+_+_+_+_+

3) Holding Them Close While Dancing

Alastor didn’t turn away from the microphone hearing the studio door open. His ears twitching the only indication that he knew someone had entered. 

“Well, my dear listeners, it seems that this broadcast is coming to a close. Don’t fret yourself as I will be back next week. More wonderful music sent to you through the airwaves, along with the latest stories and tales that Hell has to offer. For now, enjoy this send off and take care.”

Muting his microphone, Alastor let out a small sigh before turning his chair, still not addressing his guest. He already knew it was Vox. Said Media Overlord would be leaning against the wall of the studio closest to the door. No doubt watching closely as Alastor placed a new record on. Using a physical record player, mind you. He’ll leave the digital aspect of entertainment to Vox. 

Speaking of…

With all of it set up, Alastor rose from his chair and turned to Vox. Softly smiling as he silently holds out a hand.

Vox took it quickly. Pulling the other Overlord closer and placing his free hand on Alastor’s shoulder. Who let out a soft chuckle as he rested his other hand on Vox’s waist. 

“Will you ever feel comfortable enough to lead?” Alastor playfully teased as they slowly began to sway.

“You mean having to take control after having to run a business all day? Never.” 

They shared a soft laugh, pressing closer. Alastor bends down slightly to press their foreheads together. Watching as Vox closed his eyes, screen dimmed softly as the Media Overlord rested against Alastor happily.

It was a sort of ritual they had started years ago. When Vox was so focused and working hard on building his empire. Just like the required afternoon walks, they’d started to share a dance on the last song of Alastor’s broadcast. A request made by Vox this time.

Alastor was more than happy to comply. 

So, like clockwork, Vox will arrive to Alastor’s radio tower just as he announces the broadcast’s conclusion. Waiting for Alastor to initiate the contact so he doesn’t interrupt. When this started, Vox would be too exhausted to actually stand, let alone dance. Both arms draped over Alastor’s shoulders while he cozied up as best he could. 

On his part, Alastor was more than happy to cradle the other close. Using his arms and shadows to keep Vox upright. When the song ended, Vox would already be asleep, meaning Alastor would have to carry him off to bed. 

As the years passed, Vox would have enough energy to keep up. It wasn’t a proper dance as the Media Overlord had no idea how to. But just slowly swaying seemed to be enough for him.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Alastor had asked long ago, whispering as to not disrupt the song, “What brought this on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s clear you can’t dance.”

“Hey now.”

“But, you’re not asking me to teach you. We just casually sway. So this isn’t a request to show off your moves. Which brings me back to my previous question. Why did you request this?” Alastor watched in fascination as Vox’s screen turned a pinkish blue hue. A clear indication of Vox being flustered. 

“You’ll think it’s stupid.” Was the weakly offered reply. 

“I very much doubt that. I may tease, but know that I do care about your thoughts.” 

Vox was quiet for a few more moments before answering with, “I was…just worried I’d be too focused on working and I wouldn’t give time to you. I know that I’m best with schedules. So, I made sure to schedule time with you.”

“Like dancing at the end of my broadcasts.”

“Yeah.” Vox’s quiet worry was quickly dispelled as Alastor nuzzled against him, laughing softly.

“Aren't you absolutely sweet.”

“Shut up.” The wide smile didn’t back up the words. 

That was all. A process they’d kept for years, never breaking it once. Potential clients learned very quickly to not get in Vox’s way when it was broadcast night. 

“Did I lose you?”

Alastor blinked a few times before focusing on Vox. Said Overlord raising a brow with a smile.

“Just past memories, nothing to worry about.”

They stilled as the song reached its conclusion. Still close as they lovingly stared at each other. 

“Don’t suppose I could ask for one more dance?” Vox asked. 

Alastor’s smile grew at that. “Of course. Anything for you.” 

+_+_+_+_+_+

4) Putting Your Arms Around Their Waist or Shoulders

While both were some time of Overlord in media form, how they built their empire was differently obtained. 

Alastor worked in the shadows. Built around mystery as he appeared to not hold many contracts but somehow held a lot of power. He was a quiet stalker who watched and waited for the moment to strike. A being who could be unassuming…if you didn’t know better.

Vox was loud and in your face. Which made sense considering his power grew from eyes on screens. He was all about being the loudest voice and biggest personality in the room. Contracts were plentiful. Always growing as Vox could convince anyone with his charm and voice to hand over their souls. Vox was teasingly marked to be the ‘face of the people’ for how often he was seen around the city.

They were practically opposites, but worked so well together. 

That didn’t mean they had to enjoy everything the other did. 

Such as Vox’s bi-annual ‘party’. An all day event where he could mingle with other powerful demons and swindle souls on hard times or those with hopes of entertainment dreams. It was absolutely his element. 

Vox loved it.

Alastor…could stomach it. Sometimes. Rarely.

This was not his favorite scene. Only going to show quiet support and to gleefully watch the idiots who gave their souls away so easily. As well as to keep an eye on anyone who could even assume they could challenge or attack Vox. As the years passed and Vox became an Overlord of his own name, Alastor spent less time at these events. Appearing more at the end of the event to make sure he could pull Vox away to a quiet room. The Media Overlord tended to get more than a little tipsy at the end of the night.

It was one such evening, rather early evening to Alastor’s normal arrival time, that he appeared from the shadows. Ignoring the frantic footsteps as sinners fleed, he instead focused on the rather blinding lights emitting from the Vees Tower as he walked in. 

The large entrance showed the scars of hosting such a large event. Trash was everywhere, along with some articles of clothing that Alastor gave a wide berth to. A number of furniture pieces were either turned over or broken, no doubt Vox would be frustrated with needing to replace so many. Food and drink were found in some rather odd places. The floor practically covered with passed out sinners. 

How hard has some partied this year? No matter, they would be out on the streets soon enough and become someone else’s problem. 

Alastor weaved his way around the mess, having no envy for those who would be put in charge of cleaning this place up. Eyes continuously scanned the area as he searched for the only reason he came here. Relief hitting his chest as Alastor finally found Vox…only for it to falter seeing how uncomfortable the other appeared. 

To the untrained soul, Vox appeared to be completely at ease. Leaning against the bar with his signature smile on his face, eyes on his conversation companion. It seemed that he was fully interested in what was happening.

Alastor knew better. The smile was tight. Eyes would quickly flicker away to survey the area before returning to the other. His freehand that was holding the glass was wrapped around his middle. His entire form was tense, as if he was ready to run the moment he could. Why Vox hadn’t just left was the question Alastor had on his mind. One he would worry about after he got Vox away from here. 

While he could just walk over, Alastor decided to create a rather grand entrance by traveling through the shadows. Appearing behind Vox the next second, casually wrapping his arms around the Media Overlord. Humming softly as he rested his chin on Vox’s shoulder. 

“Hello there, dear,” Alastor whispered, “I thought you’d have wrapped up by now.”

Vox practically melted against Alastor. Arms crossed over to join the Radio Demon’s as his smirk became more genuine. “Hey you. Sorry, I was just holding a conversation far longer than I thought it would go.”

At that small gesture towards the other sinner, Alastor finally gave his undivided attention over to them. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have assumed she was from the Envy ring. Carrying very heavy aquatic features. Hair a fiery red contained in one long fin. Skin pale bluish-gray with spiral designs of dark blue patterned around it. Thick fins appear on her elbows and behind her legs, traveling up from her heels to just below her knees. Yellow eyes narrowed on Alastor. Clearly upset he’d interrupted the conversation. 

“Oh? It must have been riveting if you’re still listening.” Alastor purred back, arms tightening around Vox in a clear stance of ‘mine’. 

The glass in the sinner’s hand let out a worrying cracking sound as she gripped it tighter. 

Seems someone was hoping to score a night with the Media Overlord. How unfortunate for her.

“It was…informative.” Vox replied, clearly trying not to make the situation worse. He wanted out, not a fight.

“I’m sure you can tell me all about it later. Why don’t we retire for the evening?”

“And who exactly are you?” The sinner finally spoke up. Alastor having just moved to stare between her and Vox, back facing her. 

Smile tightengin, the Radio Demon slowly turned his head to stare back at her. The air filled with warning static as he answered with, “I’m his husband.”

She immediately backed down. Either from the heavy air due to the magic or from the sharp statement, Alastor didn’t know or care. Instead, he wrapped an arm around Vox as he led him away. Making for the elevator to Vox’s private suite. 

“Thank you.” Vox whispered with a heavy sigh. 

“I will never understand why you don’t just kill the sinners that bother you and move on.”

“That doesn’t look good if I just kill when I don’t find something interesting. Young sinners will be fearful if they think bad ideas will equate to them being killed.”

“You’re such a bleeding heart.”

“As if!”

They shared a laugh as the elevator doors opened. Alastor shifted them to press Vox against the back of the as a shadow tendril pushed the button. Claiming a kiss just as the doors began to close.

+_+_+_+_+_+

5) Gently Touching Them

The bedroom was dark and unnervingly quiet. So still was the atmosphere. Vark laid, as best he could, across the foot of the bed. Whining softly as his wide eyes looked up to the still form. Alastor, who’d pulled up one of the large chairs in the bedroom, placed a few comforting pets to the shark's head. His tense smile softens slightly to try and offer some comfort to the creature. But it was very little as they both looked back at the bed’s occupant. 

Vox had been laying in his bed since yesterday afternoon. Being brought down by a rather nasty virus. Leaving his screen black and inoperative as his body was a dull blue. It was eerie, as he appeared to be dead. Alastor would have believed so if he didn’t know better. At the moment, Vox was just asleep. 

“Energy reserve. His body needs to rest while it fights whatever’s taken him down.” Velvette had helpfully explained the first time Alastor was introduced to this. 

Even with how painfully worrying this all was, Alastor knew all he could do now was wait. Wait in painful silence for Vox to offer some sort of life. Leaving Alastor and Vark to watch on nervously.

The quiet was suddenly interrupted when Vox’s body suddenly convulsed. His screen flashing between the blue screen with a long string of text that Alastor couldn’t read to the technical difficulty rainbow signal image. Vark jerked away, having to move to avoid either being kicked or shocked by the small bolts of electricity.

Alastor stood from the chair. Ignoring the painful shocks as he held the other down by his shoulders. Waiting for the episode to subside as he watched Vox flail in pain. When the Media Overlord calmed down and the room fell back into the cool darkness, Alastor whispered out, “Vox?”

He didn’t receive a verbal reply. Instead his ears twitched hearing a small ‘beep’ sound from the same screen he was holding. Leaning closer, Alastor watched the upper left corner as his name was slowly typed out. 

Alastor?

Well, at least he was somewhat awake and aware. 

“Hello dear, how are you feeling?” Alastor spoke softly. He sat on the edge of the bed as he moved his hands to gently take Vox’s own.

Tired…

“That’s understandable.”

What happened?

“A virus is taking its toll on you. Don’t worry, no one but your business partners and I know.”

There was a garbled line of text following this. Alastor had learned long ago that this was Vox’s written version of rambling rage. ‘Keyboard Smashing’ he believed the terminology was for this. He couldn’t help but laugh softly. Gently running his hands along Vox’s arms to hopefully soothe him. 

“Calm yourself. Getting angry will help with nothing, especially not in your current situation.”

An attack?

“Possibly. Velvette is looking into it currently. If it is, I’ll let you know so we can plan a proper punishment for the sinner. For now, you need to rest.”

Alastor’s touches moved beyond Vox’s arms to wherever he could comfortably reach. Along the other Overlord’s chest and stomach, neck and back, and feather touches along the frame of the dark screen. His smile softens as he watches Vox relax further. An indication that he was falling asleep once more.

“I’ll be here,” Alastor whispered, “Just relax…”

He leaned forward to gently press a kiss onto Vox’s screen.

“I’m here…”

______________________________________________________________

Vox

1) Cuddling with Them / Playing with Their Hair

Vox will thank whatever higher power that had given him a chance to allow Alastor to trust him so much. Granted, it had been an uphill fight for years to get to this point. Many, many years. But it was absolutely worth it for an evening like this. Even if it starts off in a rather terrifying situation. 

It was when the feed of a certain section of the city started to flicker out of view that alerter Vox that something was wrong. He recognized the familiar static and glitch as Alastor’s. But also understood the next second that the Radio Demon was not in the best of moods because the feed was almost destroyed with how extreme the distortion was. Upon realizing there was danger approaching his tower, Vox departed from his office as quickly as he could. 

When Vox reached the entry level was the same time that Alastor all but stormed into the large shop. With an air of ‘I’ll kill the next person who even looks at me wrong’ and a mix of radio static. Which cleared out the store quickly until it was just the Overlords. 

Vox couldn’t help but freeze when their eyes connected. A cold sensation washing over him. Even if they were together, he was also aware that Alastor was not in the best place, mentally or emotionally, at the moment. So he was in a dangerously sensitive situation.

Never breaking eye contact, Vox carefully held out a hand towards the Radio Demon. Alastor’s eyes flickered down to it for a brief moment before returning back to Vox. Who didn’t dare blink. It was a tense few seconds until Alastor let out a huff and took it. 

 At least he was aware enough to know who Vox was and what was happening.

Deeming it safe, Vox blinked and relaxed slightly. Taking another risk, he turned away to lead the way back to the elevator. Never releasing Alastor’s hand as he pushed the button to his private penthouse.

First goal was to get and keep Alastor away from everyone else.

The elevator dinged to announce their arrival to the selected floor. Vox gently and slowly moved out, continually pulling Alastor along with him. Now here, the next thing to cross off was to get food in them both. While he would never admit it, one of Alastor’s comforts was feeding Vox.

The moment he was free from the elevator, Alastor broke away. Vox watched as he made his way to the kitchen. Carefully moving to the barstools as his eyes never moved away from the other as the kitchen was upturned while supplies were being pulled out. The Media Overlord more than content with watching as Alastor moved around the polished space.

In almost no time, a bowl was placed in front of Vox. Who looked down to take in the contents. Jambalaya. Ah, he really wasn’t in a good mood if he was going right to his comfort meal. He didn’t question it as he began to eat. Looking back up quickly to watch as Alastor tucked into his own portion.

His smile was still tight, meaning his mood was still sour. Point further made when Alastor let out a low growl as he glared at his bowl. Even after the food was finished, it apparently did very little to help the situation. 

Taking a bit of a risk, Vox slowly made his way over. Removing the empty bowl from Alastor’s tight grip and put them away. Hands free once more, Vox put his full attention on the other sinner. Listening for any warning growls as he reaches out to gently cup Alastor’s cheek.

The first crack in the armor appeared when Alastor easily pressed against it. 

“How about we go lay down for a bit, yeah?”

While Alastor didn’t say anything, he did grab Vox’s wrist and pulled him over to the large couch. The Media Overlord unable to hold back a small chuckle. Giving another small noise of surprise when he was suddenly pushed down onto the couch. Recovering quickly to get a bit more comfortable as Alastor joined him. The Radio Demon practically clawing at Vox’s shirt while he laid across the other. Head laying down on Vox’s shoulder as he closed his eyes. 

Freeing his hands, Vox gently ran his fingers through Alastor’s hair. Scratching at his scalp and carefully pulling out some knots. 

That got the response Vox had been waiting for. Alastor practically melted at the touches, his smile now one of genuine comfort. The Media Overlord shifted slightly so he could place gentle kisses between Alastor’s ears. Hands never stopping, moving between the hair and rubbing the large ears. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Vox whispered, hands never stopping.

“No.” Was the short reply. The only word said for who knows how many hours. 

Vox chuckles softly, “Okay. You don’t have to, I won’t force it. Do you at least want to move to the bed at some point?”

“No.”

“Alright then. Guess we’re sleeping here tonight.”

And they did. Neither moving, Alastor still laying across Vox, cheek pressed against the other’s shoulder. Vox’s screen dimmed with a very faint ‘on standby’ displayed. Fingers still tangled in the red hair. 

+_+_+_+_+_+

2) Whispering in Their Ear

“Hey Bambi.”

Vox couldn’t help but laugh as he watched Alastor’s ear flickered at his gentle whisper. Voluntary or involuntary, it wasn’t quite clear. But the annoyance on Alastor’s face was very much intentional.

“Must you?” The Radio Demon’s eyes narrowed further as Vox casually dropped next to him onto the couch. 

“Must I what? Tease you? Of course! Anyway I can see your more ‘animalistic’ side, I’ll take every chance.” 

“You’re lucky I find you so amusing.”

“Only amusing! Bambi, you hurt me, I thought I was more than just entertainment for you?” Vox let out a dramatic sigh as he lay across Alastor. Who attempted to pay him no mind, but his smile did soften. 

“Yes, well, don’t push your luck.”

Alastor couldn’t hold back a laugh as Vox shifted so he could gently pin the Radio Demon down. 

“I will push what I like.” Vox teased back.

“What am I going to do with you.”

“Would you stop making it sound like being with me is some kind of punishment! You agreed to this!”

Alastor let out another burst of laughter at Vox’s pout.

_________________________

“Alastor.” 

The Radio Demon couldn’t help the shiver that traveled up his spine. His name whispered in such a way that shook him to his core in the best way. Previous tense posture in which Alastor was glaring at the hotel wall melted away. 

Letting out a small hum, he turned to better address Vox. Who was leaning over the back of the couch.

“What can I help you with, my Podcast?”

“Were you trying to burn a hole into the wall?” The Media Overlord attempted to sound casual.

“Now why would I go and do a thing like that? Purposefully damage my pet project. How dare you assume something so horrible.”

“Well, your face said everything that you’re pissed about something.”

Alastor hummed once more as his reply. He playfully rolled his eyes as he was gently pulled close to Vox. Happy to drape himself over the other Overlord even as his face remained blanked.

“Did you talk to Velvette?” Vox whispered softly.

Alastor’s ears flicked casually in response. “...Yes.”

“You know not all of Hell would go for the Hotel. Also, it’s Hell. Sinners will pick apart everything if they’re bored.”

“I’m more worried about Charlie,” Alastor mumbled back, “She’s been held up in her room all day.” 

Vox laughed softly, “You’re such a bleeding heart.”

Shifting closer, Alastor tucked his head closer to Vox’s chest. “Don’t call me that.”

“Of course not. Never.”

Ears flickered softly as the whispers once more. 

_________________________

It was the middle of the night and Vox couldn’t sleep. Staring up at the canopy above him while his arms were gently placed around Alastor. Said demon fast asleep, eyes closed with his mouth still curved up in a small smile. At least he’d been able to fall asleep easily. On Vox’s part, his mind was a buzz of never ending information. 

One of the major downsides to being the Media Overlord was the never really finding a moment of quiet. How he could never properly connect from everything. 

Letting out a slow sigh, Vox shifted enough to look down at Alastor. Fingers gently running through the soft red hair. 

“Hey Alastor,” Vox whispered. Even as Alastor slept peacefully, his ears twitched as if he was listening. At least, that’s what Vox liked to believe. “I hope you don’t mind if I talk for a while. I know you harp on me not sleeping well. But it’s kind of hard when my mind won’t shut up. I’m sure I’ll wear myself out eventually. Until then, do you mind if I just ramble?”

Alastor’s ears twitched once more.

“I’ll take that as a yes…”

+_+_+_+_+_+

3) Massaging Their Feet

Vox knew Alastor was only his true self when it was just them behind closed doors. When the Radio Demon knew he could relax because the target was no longer on his back. Knowing he could leave whatever he needed to at the door until he was in public view once more. 

Vox also knew that Alastor would rather look perfectly put together than to let Hell obtained features be seen. 

Case in point, when Alastor decided that wearing shoes over his hooves was a practical idea.

Said Radio Demon held back a grateful grunt of relief when both of his hooves were freed. His shoes may have been fashionable, but they were also extremely tight. It also didn’t help that he was stuck on wearing shoes that were more meant for ‘humans’ and not hooves. 

“I’m still not sure I fully understand why you insist on wearing shoes at all.” Vox commented as he carried the tray filled with tea and cups over to the small end table. Setting it down before sitting next to Alastor. 

“Hooves don’t really pull the whole ensemble together,” Alastor replied while rubbing his ankles, “Apparently antlers are menacing. Hooves, not as much.”

“They are rather adorable.”

“You’re not helping.”

Vox couldn’t hold back a laugh. “I suppose deer hooves are not the same as goat hooves. Either way, the point I’m trying to get is to question if fashion is more important than comfort.”

“The short answer is yes.”

“What’s the long answer?”

“Don’t want to waste the time.”

Rolling his eyes, Vox focused instead on putting Alastor’s cup together. Holding it out and was greeted with a raised brow by Alastor.

“I can make my own cup.”

“Would you please just take it.”

Alastor did with a small huff. Following it with a small bleat of shock as he was moved to lay across the couch. With his feet resting comfortably on Vox’s lap. 

“How is this, comfortable?” Vox asked. 

Alastor shuffled slightly before nodding. “Fine.”

“Good. You just relax, I’ll take care of the rest.”

Alastor’s question of what Vox was planning was answered when skilled hands started to massage his legs, primarily focusing on the hooves that had caused so much trouble that day. There was a heavy shiver that traveled through his body before Alastor sunk further into the couch. Happy to nurse his cup while Vox moved his hands down to work on the hooves next. 

The room soon filled with gentle jazz music as Alastor closed his eyes. 

+_+_+_+_+_+

4) Gazing at Them/Into Their Eyes

Vox growled softly as his foot tapped against the elevator floor. Glaring at the glowing numbers as if that would make it faster. He really should start setting alarms instead of relying on Velvette or Peppermint to alert him when he needs to leave for the Overlord’s meeting. The former forgot just as often as Vox did and Peppermint… Maybe he’s given too much work. 

Ah, an issue for another time. 

Grumbling out a low ‘Finally.’ as the elevator lets out a loud ding, Vox slips between the slowly opening doors to try and beat the clock as he heads straight for the wide meeting room. Which did not go unnoticed by those already there, the rest of the Overlords. 

“We’re cutting it a little close today, aren’t we.” Carmilla commented without looking up from her papers. 

“Sorry for making sure Hell can function without me steering the ship. Controlling the entire electrical infrastructure tends to take up a lot of time.” Vox sniped back with a sharp smirk.

“Perhaps if you hired reliable contracts to work for you, you wouldn’t be so busy. Or, at the very least, help you keep track on time. But what do I know? It’s not as if we both run major businesses.”

Velvette was right. Carmilla was an old bitch.

Smirk becoming a little strained now, Vox turned to claim a seat next to Alastor. Only to find that all were occupied. Those closest taken by Rosie and Zestial. Vox knew he’d never get the Cannibal Overlord to move and Zestial could never be pushed from his front pedestal. 

“May I direct you to the otherside of the table for a chair?” Carmilla sweetly asked with a smug smile on her face. 

Vox didn’t reply this time. Instead he gave a small huff, keeping his head held high as he walked over to claim the last empty chair. Sitting down with the air of indifference, turning his attention back to Carmilla. 

“Now that we’re all here…” As the weapons dealer officially started the meeting. Vox’s attention instantly began to slip. 

His form eventually slumps into the chair. Eyes lidded as he followed Camilla’s movements and the information that was projected onto the screen. Resting his head on his hand to get in a more comfortable position as his attention slowly turned over to Alastor. Who was fully focused on what was happening. 

It was something that Vox found absolutely fascinating about the Radio Demon. For someone so terrifying, he did deeply care about the citizens of Hell. It’s one of the many reasons Vox adored Alastor. Because he does worry about the residents of Hell, even if he never shows it. Deciding instead to be fearful than fluffy. A scary sweetheart. Deranged darling.

He’s so cute.

“Am I boring you, Vox?”

The spell was broken by Carmilla’s voice. Vox blinking furiously as the cloud of daydreaming floats away, propping himself back up in his chair. Noting how all eyes are on him again. Alastor’s smile seemed to be wider somehow.

“Ah, what, no. I’m fine.” Vox cleared his throat, shifting a little further. 

Carmilla raised a brow, frowned deeping, but said nothing more about it. Instead, she turned back to her notes.

Letting out a slow sigh, Vox settled back down. Attempting to truly stay focused on what was no doubt important information. Only to be pulled away when a tingle of being watched traveled over him. Causing him to turn away once more, 

Vox’s search was over quickly when his eyes connected with Alastor. Who was still facing forward but side eyeing the Media Overlord. 

Alastor’s smile softened as their eyes met. Giving a slow blink that caused Vox’s heart to beat faster in happiness. The action a silent way for the other to say he missed Vox. How he wants to give his full attention to his partner but clearly couldn’t at that point. In response, Vox leans on his hand once more as he returns his own slow blink back. Eyes lidded as he watched Alastor’s shoulders shake with silent laughter. Ears twitching in joy. 

Vox unable to hold back the happy sigh as Alastor smiled back. 

“Would you please just stop!” Carmilla’s shout caused all to jump.

“You seem a little tense,” Alastor replied softly, “Whatever’s the matter?”

“Your flirting is causing Vox’s power to interfere with the building’s power.”

“Then it may be best to postpone this until you can fix that faulty wiring. It’s poor performance if your building could possibly be interrupted by Vox. I’m sure his exhaustion isn’t helping with all of this.”

“Alastor-”

“If you’re really that concerned, maybe your time would be best spent on creating a seating chart.”

With that, Alastor stood and made his way to the door. Vox followed close behind soon after. Neither said anything until they were in the elevator, the doors closing and moving down.

“...Was I really that out of it?” Vox asked, sounding worried.

Alastor laughed, “You’re such a silly little sinner. My silly little sinner. Adorable.”

+_+_+_+_+_+

5) Telling Them You Love Them

“I love you.” Vox nervously sputtered out. Feeling unbearably warm under the orange turtleneck as he held out the single rose. Insides squirming as he waited for Alastor to do…anything.

The Radio Demon observed the offered flower with a raised brow for a few moments. For Vox, it felt like hours. His fear rising slightly as Alstor finally reached out to pluck a flower from the Media demon’s hold. Said flower instantly withered in the gentle grasp. Turning whatever bravado Vox might have had to flicker away almost instantly.

“Oh, shit- fuck. I’m sorry, I forgot-” 

“It’s a rather dangerous game you’re playing,” Alastor spoke softly, “Handing your heart over to someone who causes such destruction with a simple touch.”

“You’re not always like that.”

“Can you afford the risk?”

“...I’d like to try.” Vox’s mouth snapped shut hearing Alastor’s gentle laugh. Watching in small fascination as the dried rose was raised, Alastor chomped down to completely consume the ash pedals. Vox’s only able to watch.

“You are such a charmer,” Alastor replied after swallowing. “It’s far too soon for you to say such words… But you are entertaining. I won't lie and say that I’m a bit curious.”

Hope rising once more, Vox couldn’t help but smile widely. “So does that mean… Are we?”

“What a way with words you have. I’ll save you the fumbling and just reply with yes, we are.”

Vox pulled himself back from a full crash. 

_________________________

The raining of blood was nothing new. The cause of said blood was a little different. 

Vox could only watch with one functioning eye, hand covering the part of his screen that was broken, as Alastor easily tore the nearest sinner apart. In his full demon form as his glowing eyes hunting down his next victim, the air filled with horrible static. Loud enough to cause the lighting in the nearby area to flicker. 

As the alleyway cleared out, Alastor started to finally calm down. Not enough to be rid of his twisted form fully. But enough to at least shrink down to look Vox over better. Intending on taking stalk with how damaged the Media demon was. 

On his part, as soon Alastor was within reach, Vox cupped his hands around the scared cheeks. Uncaring at how deformed the other was. His only visible eye showing nothing but adoration for Alastor. All of which caused the Radio Demon to pause in slight confusion.

“You’re fucking beautiful…” Vox’s voice glitched but was clear enough to sound breathless. 

Alastor let out a crackly chuckle as he nuzzled against the hands framing his face. 

“I love you.” 

A gentle nip to the skin was the reply.

_________________________

Alastor was practically dancing as he moved around the sleek, modern kitchen. Humming along with the song playing on the radio he’d brought along with him. Seeming to float as he built that evening’s meal. 

Vox more than happy to watch, sitting at the island as he leaned on his hand. Eyes lidded as he took in every inch of his partner. Which eventually caught the Radio Demon’s attention.

Leaving the soup to simmer, Alastor turned to lean over the island countertop. His smile softened as he reached across to gently pull Vox’s hand free, placing a kiss on the back of it. The Media Overlord’s stomach felt warm with growing happiness. 

“Are you enjoying the show?” Alastor asked, voice so low that it caused a shiver to travel up Vox’s spine. 

“Of course. To use your own words, if I may, you’re very entertaining.”

Letting out a chuckle, Alastor nuzzled against the hand he still held. “Intimidation is the highest form of flattery.”

“I don’t think using your quote is intimidation.”

“Just take the compliment.”

“I love you.”

A small but joyous huff sounded, Alastor placing one more kiss. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I thought I was entertaining!”

“That’s my title for this evening. Yours is ridiculous.”

_________________________

“This is so unnecessary.”

“Just take it Alastor” 

“I don’t need it.”

“It’ll make me feel better.”

“That sounds like a you issue.”

Vox let out a low groan as he laid his face against the smooth tabletop. The hand that was holding the practically shiny new phone still propped up to hold it out to the Radio Demon.

“Alastor…please…I’m just trying to help.”

“In what way would a cellular device help me? Unless you’ve made it so it can be transformed into a weapon of some kind.”

“I could do that.”

“Vox.”

The Media Overlord let out a heavy sigh as he stared the other down. “Alastor.”

“What would you have me do with this?”

“Call for help?”

“Oh, please.”

“What if you needed to contact Velvette or Valentino?”

“Why would I need to contact your business partners?”

“What if you need to contact me?”

“Are you planning on severing our bond?”

“No, never!”

“So no need to call.”

“This could help you look up recipes.”

“You know I prefer printed materials.”

Vox let out another groan.

On his part, Alastor tilted his head with his smile softening. “What are you so adamant about me holding onto this?”

“Because I love you and this would make me feel happy in knowing you had this on you. Like a ‘just in case’ kind of thing. Plus, I have one of your radios, why can’t you have one of my phones?”

Alastor’s face was a little tight at this. Shoulders dropped as he turned away. Eventually letting out a sigh of his own as he picked the phone up from Vox’s hand. “Well…how could I argue with that logic…”

Vox beamed. 

_________________________

Alastor checked his tie one last time in the nearest window before entering the Vee Tower’s property.The area practically vibrated from the music pouring out from inside. Which almost knocked Alastor over when the double doors opened. Ears flattening at distress.

The launch party was in full swing. Sinners dancing, drinking, and engaging in some rather intense intercourse on whatever flat surface that could be found. Alastor pointedly ignored as much as he could in his attempts to peer through the strobing lights. Trying to find the reason as to why he even showed up to the stupid event.

Alastor’s search was paused when an arm was casually draped around his shoulder. Ready to tear it and the sinner apart, only to stop himself when he saw it was Valentino.

“Glad to see you could finally show up.” The Lustful Overlord said softly, clearly unhappy with how ‘late’ the other was. Or possibly just being upset that Alastor was here at all. 

On his part, Alastor slowly plucked the arms off of him and dropped it away from him as soon as possible. “I’m not here for the party, you know this. Where is he.”

“He who?” Valentino’s smirk made Alastor’s glare harden.

“Where is Vox.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s here somewhere.”

“If you’re worried about me being properly supportive, then allow me to be so for the person who needs it. And you aren’t breaking any new grounds, neither is Velvette. Although I put my money on her having the creative streak after Vox compared to your ‘works’. If I’m to show support, I need to be with Vox. Therefore, I need to know where he is. So…where is he?”

Valentino’s smirk fell into a glower, but he did nod his head towards the elevator. The one that went to Vox’s private penthouse. Alastor gave a nod and turned, knowing he’d only gain a small victory at that moment. But he would take it.

The ride up thankfully quieted the blaring music, eventually causing it to disappear soon enough. Doors opening to a darkened penthouse. 

Vark was laying at the foot of the couch, raising his head when the elevator opened. Tail gently thumped against the floor happy to see Alastor and laid his head back down. He knew that Alastor meant safe. On his part, the Radio Demon walked in and understood why Vark was where he was.

Vox was laying on the same couch, screen dim and completely limp. Clearly asleep. No doubt the many sleepless nights of getting the project ready for release finally caught up to him. Letting out a small coo, Alastor appreached. Grabbing a blanket along the way and draping it over the still form. 

Vox twitched before his screen turned on, eyes looking around quickly. “Wha…”

“Just me,” Alastor whispered quickly, “Just me, my dear. You’re okay.”

“Mmm… When did you get here?” The Media Overlord let out a warm cycle of air before gently grabbing Alastor’s hand. Who sat as comfortably as he could sitting on the edge of the cushions. 

“A few minutes ago. How’d the speech go?”

“Fine…you would have been bored…”

Alastor hummed, watching as Vox started to fall asleep once more. “I’m very proud of you.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course…”

Vox’s system let out another heavy cycle as his screen turned dark. Sleep claiming him once more. Lifting the hand he still held, Alastor placed a kiss to the knuckles, smiling softly.

“I love you…”

[genderkoolaid]

was thinking about why marginalized people often use slurs in describing oppression. like in the phrase "magical negro", or using the term "cripple" or "tranny" when talking about how people see us. its not reclamation, it's more about specifically forcing the dominant group to face their bias.

bc when it comes to overt forms of bigotry, there isn't really the need to do this. the bigot will very directly tell you why they hate you- because you are a [slur], a stand-in for everything the believe about the group they hate (being unnatural, criminals, dirty, sinful, ugly, a drain on society, etc).

but generally those kinds of overt bigotry are harder to have in polite society, especially when the marginalized group in question has enough visibility and has been loud enough about their treatment that people have to acknowledge it. now, saying you hate black people or trans people or immigrants is a social faux pas, and people acknowledge that hating those groups is Bad.

but anything less than hatred is still looked over, because critically examining how our actions contribute to social patterns is Hard and requires abstract thinking, and it's much easier to just get rid of the most blatant forms of bigotry and wipe your hands of the whole nasty "systemic oppression" issue. overt bigots are bad, ostensibly because of their bigotry, but largely because they just are so gauche about it, you know? it's easy for Good Liberals in the US north to mock the gun-obsessed fat Southern man caricature who doesn't believe in climate change and says slurs, but they often get quiet and awkward if someone brings up the liberal white woman from New York who quickly locks her door when a Black man walks by her car on the sidewalk. She doesn't hate black people, so she can't be racist- there's a world of difference (in her mind) between herself and the Racist. even if, whether it's through gun violence on private property or calling the cops because she feels scared, a Black man gets killed because a white person's racist bias.

getting back to the original point about slurs: using them in this context forces people to recognize that all of that bias is the same. your racism, transphobia, ableism, isn't different just because you use nice words. dominant groups get uncomfortable when marginalized groups use slurs to point out their bigotry (i.e "you want me to be a good tranny") because it draws a direct connection between the blatant, socially unacceptable bigotry and the socially acceptable, low-key bigotry. a lot of times, society reacts to oppressed groups fighting for liberation by addressing the most obvious elements while allowing and encouraging the subtle elements, so that way they calm down and stop causing problems, but society doesn't have to meaningfully change. drawing that connection pulls the cover off of society. no more "but I don't hate immigrants so I'm not xenophobic!", because xenophobia isn't just ICE officers keeping kids in cages, it's also getting annoyed with people who have strong accents because why can't they just learn to speak English better and making every movie set in Eastern Europe have a blue filter so you know it's Foreign and Sad.

basically, slurs are used as a weapon to remind marginalized groups of every stereotype about them, and "put them in their place". but they can also be used to force polite bigots to face their own bigotry, blowing away the smokescreen of "only violent oppression is real oppression". There's a power to be found in bringing your issues into the light when the world would really rather you sit pretty and smile and thank it for doing the bare minimum while still making your life hell.

[serfergs]

Jaehee: a good distraction -- until she wasn't

As I read the first part of LITBC, I found it interesting to analyze Jaehee and the narrator’s relationship and ask the question: what did they get out of their friendship and was it healthy? Without saying it explicitly, the first several pages describe the narrator as profoundly lonely before he met Jaehee. He tried socializing with other people in his major but found them intolerable (same). And it seemed he used nightly hook-ups in place of genuine friendship and intimacy.

“The only thing that mattered was I existed with someone, there in those dark streets of the city, and that was why I was wrestling tongues with a stranger” (p. 3).

Then Jaehee entered his life. Suddenly he had someone to connect with over more than just sex. She wasn’t judgmental about his life as a gay man. They both had a lot of casual sex. They both engaged in (excessive) drinking. They both had a similar flippant approach to university and their studies. Much like in Only Friends, they lived as if their actions had little consequences and laughed about it.

Through out the first part we also get little snippets of the narrator’s mental health, seemingly mentioned as a passing thought, almost callously: “[k3 and I] both had low self-esteem, regularly felt suicidal compulsions, were bullied as kids...”. I wonder did he ever talk about these things with Jaehee? How vulnerable were they with each other? Did he ever talk about his desires for a committed relationship? Did he even allow himself to acknowledge those desires and dreams? Or was it all too much so he needed Jaehee to be...Jaehee.

A great distraction – until she wasn’t. Because Jaehee, as much as she cared about and for the narrator, she did not understand him as a gay man. She tells her fiancée “So, oppa, he’s basically a girl. It’s just like I’m living with Jieun”. I think this line is telling because if she really saw the narrator as a gay man and considered all the struggles that come from that in society, she would have thought better than to out him. She lacked this understanding, this self awareness because although she didn't judge the narrator she also didn't really see his queerness. "An excess of self awareness is a disease in itself." Oof as a genderqueer 30 year old with generalized anxiety; I FELT THAT. And this is where the deep disappointment lay – it likely wasn't as easy to move on from and laugh off like the dicks at the clinic calling him slurs. Because this wasn't just some asshole in the street that didn't understand him. It was his best friend. Queer people need to be in community with other queer people because sometimes it isn't just enough to have people that don't judge you. You need to have people that understand you as a queer person.

I think this exhibits the emotional and intimate limits their friendship had. They could go out drinking, shoot the shit about guys, and care for each other in the small things; but the narrator needs a companion not for the sake of distraction, but for emotional support and healing. This isn’t to disparage Jaehee and the friendship they shared. It was important and necessary connection, but ultimately also became enabling and co-dependent. The narrator’s focus on Jaehee mirrors the last text K3 sent him

If obsession isn’t love, I have never loved.

I hope in part two, the narrator can find someone not to obsess over or distract from, but to deeply understand him in a way Jaehee couldn’t.

*note* I feel a little silly referring to the speaker as "the narrator", but I'm not sure he is named in the chapter? did I miss something or does he not have a name?

[opinated-user]

I'm Jewish. My dad is Muslim. I'm multiracial (Beta Israeli/Ethiopian on my mom's side, Berber/Indigenous North African + Albanian on my dad's). Lily comparing self-identifying as queer to a Nazi using a slur made me so angry I remember physically shaking with rage, and her refusal to listen to anyone who actually knows queer history just made it worse. I know what it sounds like when someone is shouting slurs. I know the intent. I see the hatred in their eyes that is deeply rooted and would motivate more extreme and physical actions if only they knew they could get away with it. I know what it's like to be viewed as less than human, less than a person, lower in someone's eyes than fictional characters who they scream at me need to remain white as if I personally have declared war on them personally because there's a show or a movie with a non-white lead. I've been spat on, kicked, shoved into 'accidentally' until I smack into walls and lockers and I have been pushed down a flight of stairs and broken my shoulder due to racists bullying me. I have heard my father called a terrorist and a sand-n*gger, I heard my second teacher call my mother a n*gger and compliment her on having 'good hair for a black woman' and saying 'she's so well-spoken' as a compliment. I'd heard my brother called a thug, a gangster, intimidating, creepy, all for being soft-spoken and bad at eye contact. I've been taken aside by security at local events from flea markets to art exhibits with small souvenir stands and been searched and treated like I'm a chronic criminal who needs to be kept in check, a risk the white people have to manage, a cancer infecting their perfect progressive white city where no one can be racist because hey we have a Hispanic mayor and we voted for a black president once.

Someone identifying with a word that brings them joy is not the same thing. I'm not queer, I can't speak to the lived experiences of the queer community, but I've seen girls reclaim 'bitch', I've seen black men reclaim the N-word, and early on when I was a kid I took the word white girls used to mock me, coal (my last name begins with Kol, pronounced the same) and told them, "Diamond comes from coal. Nothing good comes out of you." and hung onto that so hard that to this day comments about my dark skin that use the word remind me of my father telling me, the first time I was called that and cried, that diamonds come from coal and that I'm the most precious thing in the world to him.

I'm not queer. I don't know what the word means to y'all. But I have a pretty good guess and it's not the same thing as a slur. It's an affirmation. It's like me saying yeah, I'm dark as coal - yeah, you're not cishetallo, and there's nothing wrong with that just like there's nothing wrong with being dark skinned. There's nothing wrong with who you are and having a word that embodies that feeling is so uplifting and so sustaining emotionally. Lily Orchard wanting to take that away from people is appalling. Not wanting to use it herself? Totally valid. Not everyone is cool with the same word. The lead singer of the band Korn is attracted to multiple genders but hates the word bi because his childhood sexual abuse happened at the hands of a bi man, for instance. If Lily had similar discomfort with it - "don't use it for me, it reminds me of X, and thus it has negative connotations to me" - then I wouldn't have an issue with it at all.

But telling people what they can and cannot draw strength from, what they're allowed and not allowed to say, is unacceptable. And trying to gaslight people into thinking that finding a home in the queer community and under the queer label is not only bad somehow, but on par with a Nazi yelling a slur? That's abusive. That's manipulating strangers into feeling like shit based on her opinions rather than on facts. That's trying to take away their joy, their community, and their right to identify as they so choose. And for what? So total strangers won't use a word she doesn't like. Absolutely, utterly fucking disgusting, just like white people policing black people's language or Christians people saying you can't use words like Torah or Quran because it's confusing so you don't get to use your own words in their presence anymore.

IDK, I've waffled a lot on sending this in (I've had this tab open for a few hours as I mull it over, tbh) because I'm not queer and I don't want to speak for anyone but myself and I certainly don't want to speak over any of you - your voices should be centered in conversations about queerphobia, 100%. But that was definitely the moment I gave up on Lily.

I'm know I'm not queer but queer people, I just want you to know: you are not wrong to want your label that gives you community and power. You have nothing in common with the people I've seen spit slurs and live to hate and hurt others. You are in the right here. Lily is in the wrong. You have done nothing wrong and to whatever limited degree I'm able to as a straight person, I do try to educate people on why the 'queer is a slur' rhetoric is TERF-y and how flawed it is. I will fight for your words because you have the right to be called what you want when you want by who you want and I hate this monster for trying to take your rights away from you just for her own sick satisfaction.

Lily Orchard, when she screams and rants, sounds more like the actual slur-using Neo Nazis I've met than anyone in the queer community ever has.

(Sorry for the long post. I just have a lot of disdain for how LO treats minorities and marginalized people.)

i don't think i have anything else to add, anon, this was very kind of you.

[derelictlovefool]

Shiptober Day 10

Prompt: Tucking In

Ship: Mary May Fairgrave x Anya Cherkov

Warning(s): Implied intoxication

Words: 1, 213

Slurred giggles and laughter fill the night air, Mary May's blue eyes glassy as she stumbles up her front porch with Anya's help. The Russian's arm is wrapped around her waist, Mary May's arm thrown over her shoulder as she digs into the front pocket of her jeans for her keys. Anya's face is a similar shade of red to her own, much more noticeable on her pale skin and Mary May grins as she looks up at her.

"You—look like a cherry," She slurs, gently booping the tip of Anya's nose with her keys. Anya rolls her violet eyes, stealing the keys from her hand and smoothly sliding one into the front door, unlocking it and swinging it open. Anya grabs hold of the door frame as Mary May wobbles, steadying herself against the taller woman.

"And, you, look like a drunk bartender," Anya hums in amusement, the drawl to her own words much less noticeable as she walks the dirty blonde inside. Mary May lets her lead her in, leaning into her side as she closes the door behind them and chucks her keys on the small table near the door.

"This isn't drunk, this is tipsy," She says matter-of-factly, gesturing at Anya with a wayward wag of her index finger. Anya rolls her eyes gently and leans away to avoid getting hit in the face by the offending appendage.

"Well, miss tipsy, do you need me to help you up the stairs or can you get there yourself?" Anya asks.

She knows the answer already, especially with the way Mary May pouts and drapes her other arm over her shoulder; her head falling to rest on Anya's collarbone.

"Just leave me on the couch," She whines, words muffled by Anya's skin as she closes her eyes. Anya was warm—or maybe she was.

"Or, i'll just carry you," Anya makes the suggestion, not waiting for Mary May's opinion on it as she hooks her arm under her legs and the other around her waist. Mary May yelps as her feet leave the floor, her arms hook themselves around Anya's neck and her blue eyes are wide from surprise. Anya grins cheekily, adjusting her in her arms and beginning the trek up the stairs. Her steps are confident and Mary May stares at her with her mouth agape for a moment before a lopsided grin spreads across her face.

"Fuck, you're strong—I feel like a princess," She mutters, sounding somewhat dazed. Anya chuckles, feeling Mary May's uncoordinated hands grope her back. This wasn't the first time Anya had picked her up but it'd been a fair enough amount of time since then so she may have forgotten. Thinking about it both times she'd been drunk, which would explain the surprise both times.

"Moya dorogaya printsessa," Anya murmurs the words with an affectionate glint in her eyes and Mary May squints at her as they reach the top of the stairs. Her drunken state probably made the foreign words sound even more like gibberish, the only word slightly understandable being the last one. It sounded nice anyway, especially the way she said it.

"I don't have a clue what you jus' called me but say it again," Mary May demands, lifting one of her hands to run through Anya's long hair. Anya repeats the words exactly the same, one this time she ducks her head down and presses a kiss to Mary May's forehead. That lazy rhythm or her heartbeat goes haywire at the small action, her grin melting away into a dopey smile as Anya nudges the door to her room open with her boot.

Anya sets her on the edge of her bed, Mary May falling back and letting out a sigh of content as she melts into the soft mattress. Anya kneels in front of her, dutifully taking off her shoes for her and setting them neatly beside the bed. When she straightens back up Mary May rolls onto her stomach, burying her face away in the plush comforter. 

Anya sighs gently before placing her hands on her hips, helping manoeuvre her up the bed, lifting the blankets up and allowing for her to crawl under them. It's less simple than it sounds, Mary May's limbs going in every direction and her giggles filling the air as she playfully fights against Anya's steady hands. But after a small, playful scuffle Anya manages to get her head on a pillow and throw her blankets over her.

Mary May looks extremely pleased with herself as she smiles up at Anya, tucking the blankets up to her chin and wiggling her feet under the covers. Anya almost wished she was recording, just so she could see the look of embarrassment on her face when she showed her the next day. But she enjoyed just being in the moment, she liked the fact she was the one that got to walk her home and see her be so carefree. Anya wouldn't have let anyone else walk her home anyway, she didn't trust anyone else in this County with her only friends' well-being. 

"Are you gonna tuck me in?" Mary May asks as Anya checks the watch on her wrist; eleven pm. Not the worst time she'd crawled home from a bar.

"Do you want me too?" She asks, already leaning over and ready to comply with the request.

"Yes, I think I do," May May nods, laying her arms down by her side and shimmying in place. Anya chuckles, tucking her hands under Mary May's arms; making sure the blankets were tucked under her securely. For a moment Anya can't help but feel a wave of nostalgia as she tucks the blankets under her; a foggy memory of tucking her younger brothers into bed invading her mind. She would only ever do this for them—and now she guessed she would also do it for Mary May. 

"There, comfy?" She asks once she's made a once over of her thorough tucking, smiling gently down at the drunken woman who lifts her hands up to grab Anya's face. Mary May traces an invisible line from her temple to her chin with her middle finger before once again tapping the tip of her nose. Anya lets her, simply watching with a warm gaze as Mary May smiles up at her.

"You could scoot in next to me, you know… Your house is pretty far from here," Mary May mutters and Anya catches her hand as her fingertips trace her bottom lip. She thinks it over for a moment, despite being able to hold her liquor better than her American counterpart, it was late and it would be a long walk home. 

The thought of getting under the covers is a bit much for her though so she settles for walking around to the other side of the bed and laying on top of the blanket; kicking off her boots before rolling onto her side.

She props a pillow under her head and lifts her hand to tuck a stray strand of Mary May's hair behind her ear. She caresses her freckled cheek with her thumb and Mary May closes her eyes, it hadn't been exactly what she wanted but it was good enough. 

"Goodnight Anya,"

"Goodnight princess,"

[thomas-the-goat-of-satan]

what I find fascinating about Finn's, "overcoming homophobia," arc is that at no point in the story does he actually show that he's changed in any real way. in season one, when he's in the basement angrily shouting homophobic slurs at Kurt, we're meant to see this as a moment of growth for him. we're meant to see Burt's, "don't say slurs," speech to him immediately after this as a lesson well paid. we're meant to see him standing up to Kurt's bully the next day as our ultimate proof that Finn Hudson, while incredibly flawed, is an ultimately good person who wants to put in the work to be better. except... that's not what we're actually shown. we're shown Finn beginning that journey, sure, but he never does more than that.

in season two, Sam Evans joins the Glee Club. when Kurt asks Sam to be his duet partner, Finn takes great issue with this. Sam, notably, does not. he's a bit taken aback by Kurt's forwardness, but he's willing and ready to sing with him, because Kurt is talented, and Sam likes him. Finn, however, takes this unconventional duet pairing to mean that Kurt must've forced Sam into a situation that he didn't really want to be in. Kurt doesn't know how to take no for an answer, and yes, Finn was wrong to call him that slur back in season one, but Kurt had a crush on him and he went about it inappropriately at times, so can you really say that Finn was in the wrong? he goes behind Kurt's back to Sam and says, "you can't sing with him; you're both guys." Sam says, "I didn't realize you had a problem with gay dudes." Finn flounders. ultimately, this attempt to break up the duo works. Kurt, worried that maybe he is taking advantage of a sweet, unsuspecting straight boy, backs out of the duet, and Finn leaves the situation not only being proven right, but having further pushed an already bullied and othered kid deeper into ostracization. talk Valentina, I guess.

in season three, Finn stops whipping out his sexy little bag of slurs (for a moment, at least) and trades it in for a savior complex, because guess who comes to the rescue when our favorite lesbian, Santana Lopez, is cruelly outed by one of her supposed friends!

oh, wait? what was that? you said- you said that Finn was the one to out her in the first place? oh, okay, hold on-

Finn was the one to out her in first place! after screaming that she was a coward that needed to come out of the closet in the middle of a crowded hallway during passing period, she's outed to the state of Ohio in a conservative campaign commercial (with a lovely little picture of her attached, in case we accidentally mistook her for a different head cheerleader on Sue Sylvester's cheer squad). this incident is of course treated with the incredible care that it deserves, and Finn immediately apologizes and takes accountability for what he did-

sorry, what was that? oh, he- he didn't do that? okay, give me a second-

actually, no he doesn't! he doesn't do any of that! our favorite queer ally just blackmails Santana into temporarily joining the Glee Club because he thinks that she might kill herself, and he doesn't want her to do that because he lost his virginity to her, and then him and the rest of the Glee Club sing at her about being queer (kind of, they couldn't even do that part right) for a week.

anyway. not to, "the narrative," my way through the rest of this post, but the narrative always tried to frame the events leading up to Finn's actions in a way that allowed him to seem justified when he inevitably did something bigoted. yes, he shouted slurs at a gay kid, but come on, he wasn't solely in the wrong; Kurt was being creepy, and he was coming on to Finn too strongly! yes, he manipulated Kurt into dissolving his partnership with Sam, but he only did it because he wanted to protect Sam from the school's ridicule; and really, Kurt is quite forward. yes, he outed a lesbian in small town, conservative Ohio before she was ready to come out, but she was constantly insulting him and making horrible comments about his appearance and his weight. Finn was consistently allowed to get away with the horrible things that he did to others, specifically queer people, because it could all reasonably be held under the umbrella of, "well, he's still a good person; he's just flawed!" that's the funny thing about being a good person, though; you have to actually be good. Finn was never too great at that part.

[wifebread]

Obsessed

Pairing: Stalker!Min Yoongi x Original female character

Tags: Forced relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Manipulations, Mentions of cruelty, Mentions of deaths, Mentions of drugs, Murders, Original female character,  Out of character, Stalking, Unhealthy relationships, Violence.

Summary: She wasn't afraid of this man, didn't take threats seriously, blaming everything on the fact that it was just to attract attention. However, she did’t know what he was capable of.

word count: 1,5k

I do not condone the actions described in the story, this is all fiction and does not relate to the real members of the BTS in any way. If you are uncomfortable with tags, please do not read!! Or read at your own risk.

a/n: Thanks to the wonderful author who allowed me to translate this work! Please keep in mind that English is not my native language, so if you notice any mistakes, point them out to me! I can also edit the chapter after I publish it, so don't be surprised if you see some strange moments (it means I haven't corrected them yet). Thank you.

source: https://ficbook.net/readfic/12255891

Chaper 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8

"Now you've realized that it's better to listen to my advice?"

“Bye, baby!”  She said hugging her niece, “Text-call, don't forget, okay?”  She asked, smiling.

"Okay," the girl replied, smiling shyly. “Bye,” the little girl added, waving, then took her father by the hand and disappeared through the door.

A second later, the smile vanished from Percy's face. Sighing heavily, she wandered to her room. Flopping down on the bed, the girl stared at the ceiling, unable to say anything. For two days she had to smile all the time and indulge the desires of the child. As much as she loved Kim, Percy liked the comfort and solitude more.

She had a lot of plans for the rest of the day, but the phone vibrated, notifying that today she can forget about peace and quiet. Taking the smartphone in her hands, the girl unlocked it, and then went into the messages.

From: Shin

11:26 "Hi. Are you in today?"

To: Shin

11:27 "Hi. I don't know, I'm very tired :/"

From: Shin

11:28 "Oh shit"

11:28 "I've been texting for two months now"

11:29 "Is it so fucking hard for you to go out for an hour??"

Turning off the smartphone, the girl buried her face in the pillow.

“I’m so sick of them” crying, she shouted into the pillow. “Why do they forget that I am also a human being? I don't give a damn about your dreams of a car, a wedding in Paris, buying a new phone.” continuing to cry, Percy slurred into the pillow. Now she was referring to Shin, who always talked only about himself and wasn't even interested in his friend's condition.

The girl was stopped from crying by the sound of another notification. She was madly angry and upset, so she was going to tell Shin everything that had accumulated. Wiping away tears, Percy picked up her smartphone and turned it on again. However, the message was not from a friend.

From: Weirdo

11:32 "I have never been so tormented by a woman's crying"

11:33 "Do you want me to explain to him clearly that you are not in the mood to go for a walk today?"

The girl stared at the screen for a long time and reread the messages, biting her lips. Everything was tightening inside, because it was incomprehensible what this man was capable of. However, he is the only one who cares about her in any way.

To: Weirdo

11:34 "Can you really?"

The girl nervously tapped her fingernail on the screen, waiting for him to answer.

From: Weirdo

11:35 "Of course, you just have to ask :)"

Percy thought for a long time whether to ask for help from a stalker who has been haunting her for several months now. What would he do for her? — Everything, she only has to tell about her desire. From the side of this man, threats have repeatedly come in the direction of male friends, but he has never done anything. He warned Percy not to communicate with "suspicious personalities", and when the girl ignored this, he sent videos and messages that made goosebumps run through her body.

To: Weirdo

11:37 "I want"

11:38 "I want you to tell him to leave me alone so that he never appears in my life again"

Percy waited a long time for the answer, but it did not come. He just read the messages and fell silent.

The girl threw the phone aside and decided not to bother her head with this situation. He's not going to kill him, after all, right? Or?..

***

Sitting in the kitchen and finishing her dinner, Percy thought that she should apologize to Shin for her vagary. The girl finally came back to normal, the emotions inside stopped raging. Picking up the phone and turning off the film, she went to Contacts to dial Shin.

The first beep,

the second,

the third,

the fourth...

“Offended?”  Percy asked herself, taking the phone away from her ear. “It seems so.” exhaling, she added.

However, Percy was not going to give up. She knew perfectly well that Shin does not know how to take offense for a long time, so she needs to go till the end.

Dialing the number again, the girl was already preparing for a long beep, but as soon as the first one sounded, he answered the call.

“Hello, Shin?”  The answer was silence, which made Percy a little tense. “I’m sorry that everything turned out this way. I was emotional, really very tired, so I answered like that. We can go for a walk tomorrow, just don't be offended ... “but the girl didn't finish because the call was dropped.

“What kind of impudence is that? I'm sorry, but he's acting like a child.”  Percy said with displeasure, dialing the number again.

“The subscriber's device is turned off or is outside the network coverage area.”  the speaker said.

"Well, fuck you, take offense," Percy thought with a snort, turning on the film again. "He will get over it and call himself"

The girl decided to take offense in response, completely forgetting that she asked for help from him. Something inside her suggested that something terrible might have happened, but Percy dismissed such thoughts.

very bad idea

***

Until the evening, Percy did what she had been going to do for a long time. It's summer, the best time of the year! The girl had been planning to sort out her closets for a long time and get rid of unnecessary things. It is difficult to call it fun, but it is necessary to conduct a revision. After putting all the "junk" in boxes, Percy began to carry them to the attic. As they say: "out of sight — out of mind."

This is not the only thing that Percy has been planning to finish for a long time. The girl finally printed out photos of her favorite actors and hung them on the wall; made cheesecake; continued to keep her diary, tried to decorate the pages in an unusual way. There were more than enough plans, so Percy decided to leave some for tomorrow, so as not to "die of boredom."

***

It was getting dark outside. This meant that the parents would be coming soon. Percy went to the kitchen to heat up the food and put the kettle on.

Digging into her smartphone, the girl did not immediately hear a knock at the door. Only after the bell rang did Percy run into the hallway.

“Why don't you let your parents in?”

“I'm letting you in,” the girl replied with a grin. “I just didn't hear it right away.”

“Have you watched the news?”  Sitting down at the table, her father asked.

“No, what's there?”  Percy asked, looking up from the phone.

"Daughter, just don't be nervous," the mother began, nervously biting her lip. "Shin's mom called me," Percy nodded, not understanding what her mother was leading to. “He went to the grocery store, but he never returned home.”

Percy stood bug-eyed, and her heart ached painfully. His words immediately hit her thoughts: "Do you want me to explain to him clearly that you are not in the mood to go for a walk today?" Goosebumps began to run over her body, and her hands were shaking slightly.

“Since lunch, the news is only about the disappearance of Shin,” coughing, the head of the family intervened in the conversation. The man immediately noticed how Percy turned pale and it seemed that she was about to faint.

“Darling, don't worry,” — taking the girl by the hand, said the mother. — They will definitely find him, the police are moving heaven and earth.

Percy nodded with a crooked smile, then pressed her hand to herself.

"But I don't think so anymore," she thought, getting up from her chair and heading into the room.

Panic covered Percy's head, preventing her from thinking straight. The body did not obey, and the heart beat a frantic rhythm. The girl has already regretted a million times that she asked him for help.

Entering the room and closing the door behind her, the girl slid down the wall to the floor, breathing convulsively. It was as if someone's hands were squeezing her throat, blocking access to oxygen.

The sound of the notification made the girl flinch. Picking up the smartphone with shaking hands, Percy turned it on.

From: Weirdo

21:34 "I did as you wished. I was counting on minimal gratitude, but in return I get this"

In addition to the text, there was a photo of Percy sitting on the floor, and the expression on her face was speaking for itself.

To: Weirdo

21:35 "I didn't want you to"

21:35 "What did you ever do to him??"

From: Weirdo

21:36 "You wanted me to)"

21:37 "You wanted me to get rid of him"

To: Weirdo

21:38 "I wanted you to EXPLAIN it to him in words!"

21:38 "You're insane!"

21:39 "Monster!"

21:39 "Psyco!"

Percy went cold, her whole body was shaking, and tears began to gather in the corners of her eyes.

From: Weirdo

21:41 "Be careful with your expressions, Percy"

21:42 "Even my angelic patience tends to run out"

21:43 "Next time, formulate your wish more precisely so that it doesn't turn out the way it is now"

21:44 "Oh, yeah... now you've realized that it's better to listen to my advice?"

to be continued...

[outrunningthedark]

(I think you're the only blog that I follow that posts about 9-1-1 and ableism and that I feel comfortable interacting with...)

Full disclaimer, I am physically abled and I have a learning disability that was diagnosed in high school.

Reading fanfiction with a*a in them and seeing her described as a "good person" or some other variation always rubbed me the wrong way, since if I had to describe her I would probably call her a bad person. I never figured out why, because I know people who are/were casually ableist, but I wouldn't call them bad people (I don't know whether I would call them good people, either).

I figured it out today. The people I know are ableist mainly due to ignorance, which is not okay, but it does not qualify them as bad people in my mind. A*a, on the other hand, was a teacher at an inclusive school and has a phd in child development (I think), which means that she should be aware of how wrong her view is, which means that, not only is she not a good person, but firmly a bad one.

Hey, love! Discussions about ableism are always welcome here, and I appreciate that you feel comfortable enough to share your feelings with me. <3 I think you've accurately described what was so bothersome about Ana's behavior. When we first MEET her it's as Christopher's teacher, and we already know he attends an inclusive school. (For the newbies: inclusive education, in layman's terms, allows both disabled and non-disabled students to learn side-by-side in the same classrooms, as opposed to placing one group in "regular" classes and one group in "special needs".) And yet, in her VERY FIRST APPEARANCE, she tells her student's father that Christopher's failed attempt at skateboarding is probably a sign that he should try a different activity. Because he has obvious limitations. Listen. Every disabled person struggles with things that cannot do no matter how hard they try. I'll never be able to use forearm crutches because I don't have the proper balance and muscle strength for it. I'll never be able to ride a bicycle. I can't even follow a YouTube exercise routine because the moves are just too complicated for me. But the point is that I learned these things through trial and error. Therefore, Ana's opinion would be ignorant no matter who it came from because outsiders cannot determine our capabilities just by observing us. But the fact that she is written as a teacher at an inclusive school? That's a horrible look. Her occupation means she should always be thinking of ways to help students who are "different" work and play alongside the kids who may not need the extra help and attention. What did she do instead? Suggest Christopher ought to give up and move on after one (1) unfortunate experience because she didn't see how a kid with CP could ride a skateboard like everyone else. Textbook ableism. By an inclusive educator. The writers really did that. And, look. I see all the posts on here that discuss how "it is not the author's responsibility to teach morality" because most people can figure out right from wrong. But when it comes to a character like Ana...this fandom proved time and time again that the lack of follow up to her comments (not just back in 3x12, but when she called Christopher "sensitive" and poked fun at "lazy students" who blame their teachers for bad grades) only made viewers downplay the meaning behind those words because they don't know what ableism actually looks or sounds like beyond, y'no, the r slur or a public space without accessible parking/a ramp/automatic doors. They didn't think anything of her remarks until actually disabled viewers started pointing out how fucked up her perspective is. WE SHOULDN'T HAVE TO DO THAT. The fact that anyone could watch those scenes and find reasons to explain away such behavior because it's "normal" or "understandable" is exactly why leaving interpretations up to the audience is not always the best course of action.

[entishramblings]

You Have Pretty Hair [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: so this one shot has some pieces from my fanfic (link in description) but I altered it for a legolas x reader formate cuz I figured you all would be interested because on wattpad so many users said they loved it! So if you recognize it....that’s why!!!

Request: none

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) is traveling with the fellowship and they end up drinking one night and Legolas has to take care of (Y/N)

Word Count: 2,270

Warnings: none

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

(Y/N), a young female ranger of the Dunedain and close friend of Aragorn’s, grinned when she saw a worn down sign that read: The White Lion Inn. She had chosen to accompany the fellowship on the quest to destroy the one ring, for her sword skills and healing abilities would provide useful. She had trained under Isildur’s heir for many years and was well aquatinted with the lays of the lands.

The weary members of the fellowship trudged through the door hoping for a comfortable bed, hot meal, and some quality ale. When they entered, the diverse group was immediately greeted by the sound of drunk humans and off-pitch tavern songs. Many uncertain eyes wandered across them for they had just demolished a pack of orcs so they were quite a sight to see. (Y/N) had a bloody head wound and was splashed with dark orc blood; Boromir, Aragorn, and Gimli had a handful of superficial cuts whereas Legolas was completely unscathed. Not to mention they were accompanied by a wizard and four hobbits. An interesting group indeed.

The wooden walls of the tavern were dimly lit by candles and lanterns while the room was filled with intoxicated, dirt covered travelers—not the most appealing of types. Furthermore, the stale air smelled of ale and three days old piss. But alas, it was better than the bone chilling coldness of outside and the threat of Sauron’s spies.

Gandalf suggested they get cleaned up before diving into drinking, but (Y/N) had other ideas.

She smirked at the sight before her. She loved taverns and she loved drinking. She hadn't had any alcohol since her arrival at Rivendell so she was quite deprived from the ensnaring numb sensation it provided.

The female Ranger immediately walked up to the barkeep and tossed a coin onto the counter, "One pint of the good stuff."

The bar tender glanced at the blood covered woman and raised his eyebrows, but he did not question anything for he often saw strange folk with strange business in this part of town. He plucked a glass from the shelves behind him and generously poured a tall tankard with bitter ale. He slid it across the counter towards her and she offered a quick thanks.

......

It was not long until most of the fellowship had started drinking. Gandalf, Sam, and Frodo had retired early for they were exhausted and had no interest in getting drunk. Merry, Pippin, and Gimli however had started a drinking contest while the two human men observed with laughter. Legolas only had two pints, which did absolutely nothing for him. (Y/N) on the other hand was on her 6th? 7th? She had lost track a long time ago and was completely utterly waisted.

Currently, the female ranger was on the top of the table dancing and laughing with the two hobbits (who were slightly less drunk). The three beings’ arms were locked and they were swinging around and around giggling uncontrollably. Merry and Pippin sung tavern songs terribly while accidentally kicking the bowls of peanuts to the floor with their large hairy feet. It was quite a sight, amusing to all onlookers.

Pippin nodded in Legolas's direction. The elf was sitting at the bar talking to the barkeep for he was the quiet type and preferred calm company.

"(Y/N), what do you think of Legolas?"

She stumbled and let out a loud belch before slurring out, "He's ssuper talll."

Pippin grinned, "I agree with you there as I am quite short as well! But he’s considered average if you compare him to Strider and Boromir.”

A confused look crossed the ranger's face for a moment before she giggled again.

“Oh....right....”

She then called out to Boromir sitting below her, “PASS ME ANOTHER PINT!"

The Gondorian immediately handed her another and she took a big swig from it.

With his elf hearing, Legolas listened in on the conversion. He couldn't help but smirk at the drunken stupidity of (Y/N). He observed that she had always been a carefree spirit and it seemed that alcohol brought that aspect out further. However, as soon as he heard her call for another pint he knew he needed to interfear. She was incredibly intoxicated and adding another drink to that would not be smart. Legolas left his stool and briskly walked towards the table of his friends.

(Y/N)’s grin widened when she saw the elven prince, "Legolas!"

Merry then insisted that he join their dancing and (Y/N) released another giggle, but the moment was interrupted as the female Ranger lost her footing and fell forward—off the table. She felt her body smack against something firm that smelled of pine and honey. Quite strange for something that smelled so good to be in this less than tasteful place. She squinted in puzzlement as the world around her distorted; it was upsidedown, twisted, warped.

What was going on?

Her gaze landed on bright blue eyes that stared down at her with uncertainty. That’s when the realization hit her. She was in Legolas’s arms. She frowned.....and her tunic was soaked wet? The alcohol must have spilled out of the tankard that she had been holding. She lazily examined Legolas and a giggle escaped her lips when she realized he was also covered in the ale.

(Y/N) continued to marveled at the blonde elf who was evaluated her drunken state. She laughed again. "You have muscly arms," she said with a slur.

Legolas sighed and made eye contact with Aragorn. The uncrowned king nodded, knowing exactly what Legolas was asking. They both silently agreed that (Y/N) had had enough.

“All right," the elf said as he put her down, "You're done." The last part of his sentence sounded stern, commanding, and showed that he was slightly pissed off—not that the drunk ranger could pick up on that.

Legolas didn't understand how she got so careless to drink this much while they were on a very important mission. Quite frankly, he was surprised Aragon had let it get this far as he had assumed the figure of older brother long ago; but alas, (Y/N) was a grown woman who was perfectly capable of making her own decisions.

The Elven Prince took the half filled pint from her hand and passed it to Boromir. Legolas then grabbed her arm and slightly tugged her in the opposite direction, but she reached out and snatched the unfinished pint from the Gondorian. She quickly took another big gulp before Legolas pulled the tankard from her hand once again. He firmly set it down on the table and shot Borimir a look.

The elf then pulled the grumbling ranger by her arm, more forcefully this time. He lead her to the barkeep and held her upright, "One room key please,"

The man looked at the state of the drunk woman and chuckled, "Good luck with that one."

He passed the elven prince the key and Legolas tugged (Y/N) to the crooked wooden stairs. He motioned for her to go up. She glanced at the step and let out another giddy laugh before lifting her leg. She was able to climb up a couple steps before falling back against Legolas chest. He easily caught her and held her waist until she regained some balance. She again lifted her foot but immediately stumbled. Legolas shook his head in frustration, bent down slightly, and scooped her up bridal style. He began to assend the stairs as she whined to go back for another pint. The elf’s ears turned light pink as he heard his friends snickering at the current situation he was in. He chose to ignore it; someone had to take care of her.

Legolas opened the door to the small room and sat (Y/N) down on the bed, her legs dangling off the side. He poured some water from a pitcher onto a towel and turned back to the drunk woman. He gently wiped her face with it, making sure to erase the dirt and dried blood from the outdoor adventure.

Legolas carefully began to clean the small wound on her head. He wished she would have done so earlier for an injury was not to be left untended; but alas, when she made a decision she stuck by it.

He watched as (Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed and she tried to pull away from the cloth. "Cold, cold, cold," she grumbled like a child.

Legolas sighed, "(Y/N), don't make this difficult."

She groaned once more before letting out another giggle. The blonde elf raised his eyebrows in question.

"You," She slurred, "have prettyyy hair.”

She reached her hand out and grasped a handful of his blonde locks, “Can youu braid mine like that some day!?”

He chuckled, “Maybe.”

Legolas reached upward and carefully untangled her fingers from his hair for he was fearful that, in her drunk state, she would end up getting them stuck in it.

The Prince had dealt with a lot of intoxicated elves in his lifetime, but (Y/N)’s behavior was so innocent and seemed to be even more amusing. Humans—always an interesting species. He still was angry at her lack of self control when it came to drinking, but it was hard not to smile at her intoxicated actions and words.

The blue eyed elf's hands made their way to her hair. He gently pulled out the tie from the messily twisted bun, allowing her locks to cascade down her shoulders.

"(Y/N)," Legolas started.

She let out another giddy laugh.

Legolas sighed, "What is it now?"

"I thinks I had too many alcohols."

Legolas smirked at her improper grammar, "Yes, indeed you did."

She let out yet another giggle.

"(Y/N), your tunic is wet with ale and orc blood. Do you wish me to find a servant to assist you?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head while grasping onto his sleeve, "Youu just help me."

Legolas lips parted as he felt a blush creep up his neck and upon his ears. He cleared his throat, "(Y/N), I'm not su—"

The woman interrupted him, "You." She paused in attempt to gather her drunk words together, "I trustt you over some random strangeeer."

Legolas let out a nervous exhale but nodded.

He ruffled through her bag until he came across an extra black tunic. He grasped the soft fabric in his calloused hands and stood in front of her.

"Are you wearing anything under this?"

She nodded. Her words slurring as she spoke, "MHhmm, uunderrrgarments to coverr my brea—"

He interrupted her awkwardly, "(Y/N), I know how basic anatomy and clothing work."

Legolas gently took hold of the bottom of her dirty tunic and begun to pull it up and over her head, careful not to get any orc blood on her skin. He could feel his cheeks heating even more as her shirt rose; he was just grateful she was too intoxicated to notice. He gently untangled her arms from the disgusting fabric and removed it completely.

She sat on the bed with eyes closed as she begun to sway slightly. The blonde elf's gaze trailed down her body cautiously, taking in her appearance. Her undergarment encased her chest, covering what needed to be. However, it clearly accentuated the curves of her breasts and the shape of her torso. He watched as her skin and toned muscles rippled ever so slightly with small movements. She was utterly beautiful, despite her terribly drunken state. Legolas swallowed dryly. He felt the desire to touch her soft skin and inch his hands over her form crept into his mind; but he did not want that while she was intoxicated. Her well-being was his top priority. Besides, they were not courting. He doubted she even knew of his affections.

Legolas pulled the new, clean tunic over her head and assisted her in getting her arms through. He felt slightly relieved that it was over for the situation had been quite compromising.

If anyone had walked in......

If Aragorn had walked in.....

The elf’s mind wandered slightly at the thought of his friend. Strider made no move to assist Legolas with the intoxicated young woman that he had trained. It was almost as if he had let the elf take care of her on purpose.

Legolas blushed.

That cheeky bastard.

Aragorn had to have done that on purpose. Legolas remembered all the times Strider had paired him and the female Ranger to collect firewood and watch for Sauron’s enemies. The man’s twinkling eyes and mischievous looks......he definitely did this on purpose.

Legolas sighed once again before tuning back the (Y/N). He quickly pulled off her boots and then pulled back her covers. He then helped her climb into the soft comfort of the feathery bed. The Elven Prince sat on the edge of the mattress and gently ran his hand through her hair to coax her to sleep; and there he stayed watching over her.

.......

The female ranger walked down the stairs to the tavern. She was rubbing her temples and groaning with every step. Her head pounded like drums, the light blinded like white fire, and everything was just too damn loud.

She saw that most of the fellowship was all sitting around a table across the room, many of them with the same problem as her.

Legolas unexpectantly appearing near her and chuckled when she walked past him, "feeling better?"

She sent him a death glare and grumbled in response. She plopped down on the bench across from Merry and Pippin and next to Boromir.

The Gondorian nudged the female ranger, "Do you have any memory of last night?"

She groaned, "Why? What happened?"

At that moment Aragorn slid onto the bench next to (Y/N) with a big grin on his face. He spoke with a tone filled of taunting amusement, "Legolas took care of your drunk ass!”

(Y/N) groaned at that statement and put her head on the table.

Of fucking course.

[bernardolovesanita]

BernardoLovesAnita Watches 1961 - Commentary Highlights

As a kid I never appreciated the overture at the top of the movie and would always fast forward but Mr. Bernstein's music is so *chef's kiss*

I love the overhead shots of the city. New York City, my beloved. I miss you 😭

Ice (also known as Diesel) is the hottest Jet in this movie with Action close second.

I just love how everyone is scared of these white boys who just start fucking ballet dancing in the middle of the street. NOW that's not to say dancers can't kick ass. It's just funny as hell.

INTRODUCTION OF BERNARDO, MY BELOVED 🥰 Do I appreciate George Chakiris' brown face? Of course not. Would I still make passionate love to his Bernardo? YES! That red shirt. The hair. THE RED BRICK!

The fact that Loco can spit that far and accurately is a fucking SKILL

Action calling for the Jets was a bitch move though.

Baby John is the only Jet I will ever have a soft spot for besides Anybodys BUT GODDAMN HE DESERVED TO GET HIS ASS KICKED

The huge fight at the park barely looks like a fight. It's like these guys are just performers who never got into a fight in their lives 😭

BUT WHY IT SOUNDS LIKE SCHRANK CALLS THEM COCKSUCKERS????? I know that can't be what he actually says because it's 1961 BUT DAMN it's in character for him

The Jets and Sharks hated each other but they hated the cops even more. West Side Story said ACAB first.

The ONLY flaw with George Chakiris' portrayal of Bernardo (besides not being Latino) was the brown face. Because the accent was accurate. His performance was just so fucking good. HIS FUCKING SASS AS BERNARDO IS STILL UNMATCHED! "Would you mind translating that into Spanish?" THE FUCKING AUDACITY His Bernardo was solid. I don't give a shit.

The pause before "friends" YOU KNOW Schrank wanted to say some stupid shit like a slur. FUCK LT. SCHRANK! THIS IS A SCHRANK SLANDER BLOG!

Anybodys really didn't deserve the treatment they received. Whether they were Trans or just a tomboy the treatment was trash and they deserved so much better.

Baby John is like "I don't want to die so let's just leave them alone" Bless you, you confused little man. 😭

The Jets are definitely younger in this film than the remake. I always saw them as high school drop outs. Anywhere from 16-22.

So Tucker Smith plays Ice but he also sings for himself and for Riff. And BOYYY it is so clear that it's Ice's voice coming out of Riff especially when Riff leaves and Ice starts singing. He's got a good voice though so I'm not even bothered by it.

Richard Beymer gets an award for being the prettiest Tony.

Riff jinxed everything when he said the thing Tony is looking for might be at the dance. RIFF YOU BITCH!

The lip syncing in this movie is so good. Still could fool me if I didn't already know about Richard and Natalie.

RITA MORENO'S ANITA WILL FOREVER BE THE BEST ANITA OF ALL TIME

Maria: "What happens when you look at Bernardo?"

Anita: "Its when I don't look at him that it happens."

I see you, Anita.

Maria: "I think I will tell mama and papa about you and 'Nardo in the balcony at the movies."

BROOOOO THE FUCKING DRAMAAAAA! Because I doubt Bernardo and Maria's parents would have given a shit. BUT ANITA'S FAMILY! THE SHAME! Men were allowed to be mischievous and sexual. They were allowed to bring a pregnant girl home. BUT GOD FORBID A WOMAN HAS CONSENSUAL SEX THEN SHE'S BRINGING SHAME ON HER FAMILY! My mom and I were talking about this happening in our own family.

Maria talking all that shit about the dress as if Anita doesn't know what's she's doing.

Bernardo and Anita are so in love my heart can't take it 😭

Chino: "but it is a lady's shop"

Anita: "we won't bite until we know you better"

I would die for that woman.

THAT TRANSITION FROM MARIA DANCING TO THE GYM IS STILL.OME OFY FAVORITE FILM TRANSITIONS OF ALL TIME

Maybe it's because I'm biased but the Puerto Ricans dances in the gym are so much better.

The editing of this film for it being a '61 film is PHENOMENAL! Like the tunnel vision camera work or whatever it was when Tony and Maria see each other.

Tony is mumbling some nonsense and Maria is all "You're prettier when you don't talk MY HANDS ARE COLD"

There is a soft dumbness to Natalie Wood's portrayal of Maria that I always loved.

Bernardo coming in like a bat outta hell "GET YOUR HANDS OFF AMERICAN! STAY AWAY FROM MY SISTER!" YOU TELL HIM "There's only one thing they want from a Puerto Rican girl." THE SAD TRUTH BEHIND THAT STATEMEMT

I'm sorry but Tony's bitch ass going "don't listen to him" I KNOW YOU HAD GOOD INTENTIONS BUT THAT'S NOT THE WAY TO DO OT DUMMY

Bernardo is RIGHTFULLY protecting his sister. WE KNOW Tony doesn't have ill intent towards her but Bernardo doesn't know that. He just knows that Tony hangs out with the assholes. Which I'm sorry but by association makes Tony an asshole.

Since Riff says to meet for the War Council at Doc's store and Bernardo agrees does that mean Doc's store is meant to be the nuetral ground? Because I ALWAYS viewed Doc's store as solely the Jets hangout.

Anita telling Maria "he's the old married woman" after Bernardo goes off on her is such SIL solidarity. Anita and Maria's relationship is so 🥺

Anita: "Sometimes, I don't know what is thicker? Your skull or your accent."

I would die for Anita.

Pepe: "You came with your mouth OPEN"

PEPE WAS WRONG FOR THAT 😭

1961's "America" is so fucking good! And again I can't stress enough how much the rebuttals are STILL so accurate.

Anita's purple dress is my favorite piece of costuming of ALL TIME.

Speaking about the shots in this film, putting Bernardo and Anita in shadow is *chef's kiss*

They call It the balcony scene, but it should really be the fire escape scene

Why is Tony always atleast foot taller than Maria? I WANT A PRODUCTION WITH SHORT KING TONY

1961 "Gee Officer Krupke" has unmatched energy. It's chaotic and amazing.  And it does bring up a good point about how youth are treated within the system.

Casting Ben Cook as Mouthpiece in the remake was the wisest choice but they really missed a lot of opportunities with him.

Action got so much anger for such a short man. But like bitch me toooo 😭

Anybodys grabs Indio and his face is just like "wtf did I do?" 🤣

I know "w*p" is a slur for Italians but why my monkey brain went like Cardi B WAP???? But I mean if someone called anyone a wet ass pussy that could also be seen as an insult

Schrank is such a fucking CUNT! He makes my blood boil. Like Schrank talking so disrespectful to Doc. DON'T DISRESPECT DOC! NOT IN MY FUCKING HOUSE!

Poor doc. He's just in his store having to put up with the chaos of these poor bastards.

Anita: "After a fight like that, that brother of yours is so healthy."

Anita is thirsty AF for Bernardo but so am I 😭

Maria telling Tony to stop the fight is the biggest ask and the WORST decision. Because if Tony never showed up it would be JUST a fist fight. No one would have died. PLUS he promises her, but he doesn’t stop the fight and therefore breaks his promise.

The bridal shop wedding scene makes so much more sense than that remake's museum scene.

When Riff loses his knife and goes against the fence he literally yells "KEEP OUTTA THIS" before the Jets try going for Bernardo. WHY? Because it's a fair fight.

The way Bernardo looks down at the blade in his hand 😭 He didn't want it to go this way. And one of the Sharks telling Bernardo to run before Tony gets up. THEY KNEW NO MATTER WHAT IT WASNT GONNA END WELL FOR BERNARDO How could it? He was a brown man who just killed a white man. The law wasn't gonna treat him fairly.

Tony realizing what he'd done, turning over Bernardo's body and then screaming "MARIA!" hurts so badly.

Maria blissfully dancing on the roof before finding out the bullshit that just occurred. She's just in love and happy. Has no idea what Chino is about to tell her 😭

The fact that Maria asks about Tony before wondering ABOUT HER FUCKING BROTHER gets me heated. Chino says "’Nardo and a knife" AND ALL YOU CAN THINK ABOUT IS THE BOY YOU'VE ONLY KNOWN FOR A DAY????

The scene when Maria beats on his chest yelling "KILLER KILLER KILLER" has broken me everytime I've watched as an adult. But I'm still bitter how quick she gets over that he MURDERED Bernardo. She's all "Oh? He killed Riff? That's fine then" LIKE BITCH THAT WAS YOUR BROTHER

Ice is like "if any of you bitches don't calm down we're all going to jail"

I NEVER REALIZED ANITA BRINGS HOME BERNARDO'S JACKET 😭 Wtf? So that means even in the original film she must have been the person who had to identify his body. WHAT THE FUCK?????

ANITA'S FEELINGS ARE VALID! She is a broken woman. She just lost the love of her life. And yes, she is looking out for Maria's best interest. This is the hill I will die on.

Schrank really walked in like he owns the place FUCK THAT DUDE

The scene in Doc's store between Anita and the Jets always had me fucked up even when I was a kid and didn't understand what exactly was going on. It's even more disgusting and heartbreaking knowing the context as an adult.

Tony's death scene in '61 is so much better staged and written than '21's version.

When Maria drops the gun and just breaks down 😭

I love the way they did the credits. Written on graffitied walls. Perfectly fits the films's aesthetic.

Anyway 1961 West Side Story is still a masterpiece.

[bookofmirth]

see on one hand i totally agree that you shouldn’t waste your time on being negative about characters or ships you don’t like but majority of the time i see these type of comments it’s from feysand stans that are upset that nesta stans are able to use the strange moral code sjm uses in her writing to point out nesta ain’t all that bad in the grand scheme of things and compared to majority of the characters

a lot of the time it’s feysand stans that reblog cute feysand art but 70% of their blog is shitting on nesta and calling her an abuser and saying that anyone who likes her is a horrible human but when a nesta stan posts anything criticising the inner circle or feysand then it’s immediately ‘don’t read these books if you don’t like rhys and the ic’ or ‘get out of the fandom’ or just in general shitting over any opinion that criticises the inner circle and rhysand and says it’s pointless writing anti posts and to get out of the fandom but at the same time writing anti nesta posts for the majority of their blog

i think it’s honestly quite clear that nesta is held to a higher moral standard than most of the other characters. for rhys, for example, his actions utm are majority of the time justified by his stans because acotar is ‘enemies to lovers’ and he’s ‘morally grey’ but saying that nesta’s behaviour at the beginning of acotar is excused because nesta was an evil sister cardboard cut out villain and that she’s morally grey is not allowed because then you’re invalidating feyre’s abuse. i love rhys AND nesta (i know, not common) but it’s clear he gets a lot of leeway where nesta absolutely doesn’t which is why i think her stans are as aggressive as they sometimes are. because for the longest time nesta was hated on so badly and anyone that liked her was immediately an abuse apologist and a red flag so it’s not surprising to me that some stans have become super defensive when they defend her and have an answer for everything

I respect where you are coming from anon, and I know that people have been saying things that are rude and inflammatory, but I think you are illustrating what the anon and I were talking about in that ask. I can speak for myself for sure when I say this is what I meant when I said that in addition to the ship war, we have the Nesta versus the IC war.

(I am using your ask to address something that I have seen in the fandom at large A LOT this past month or so. My comments aren't just about this ask, it just gave me an excuse to talk about it.)

People get called an abuse apologist for liking tamlain, for liking Tamlin in general, for liking Nesta, Lucien, let's see... oh if you dislike Elain you're misogynist. My point in that post was that it's hard just existing in the fandom without encountering people complaining or just being outright rude. And I think that was anon's point too, that it's nearly impossible to say anything without people jumping in with an accusation of some kind, and refusing to accept any other opinions. Which it sounds like you have experienced! I wasn't pointing any fingers, though I know that doing so is practically the newest fandom trend that everyone *must* try at least once. It annoys the shit out of me, personally.

It's the way that the fandom is taking the ship war behaviors and applying it to something that shouldn't be a war in the first place. Instead of elriels vs gwynriels, it's Nesta stans versus IC stans and I HATE it 😴 The rhetoric ends up sounding eerily similar, to the point where we can't escape the ship war vibes no matter how hard we try.

So back to the whole finger pointing thing - oh, this random asshole you've never met said something you don't like? And did they hold a weapon to your head and make you respond in kind, with equal if not worse insults, slurs, and bullying? No. They didn't. (This is not "you" as in you, anon, this is a general "you".)

All these excuses that I've seen - primarily in the ship war - saying "well we did that as a reaction" 🤣🤣🤣 are you kidding me???? Is that not what toddlers say when they get caught punching their siblings? "Don't hit your sister" "but she stole my Barbie!" I- I just cannot with the things this fandom says with a straight face.

So yeah anyway. Our feelings are valid. The actions we take based on those feelings are 100000% our responsibility. I recognize that it's hard to turn the other cheek and let things go. Trust me. I do it regularly when I delete a rude anon, or when I see a ss of someone being a complete dingus on Twitter. I don't even have a perfect track record with how I respond (see: me defending Mor on occasion with more vehemence than is probably necessary). But saying "well I did it because they did it first". And if gwynriels/elriels/nesta stans/your mom jumped off a bridge, would you do that too?

says it’s pointless writing anti posts and to get out of the fandom but at the same time writing anti nesta posts for the majority of their blog

Gah, do people really not understand the difference between just disliking something and being an actual, full on anti?

(This is again a general "you" in this paragraph, not you directly, anon.) Perhaps, what would be more useful, is addressing everyone as individuals with their own opinions and reasons behind them. I absolutely agree that there are trends within fandom that can be misogynist or homophobic or what have you. (Case in point, everyone lusts over Az and Eris, the professional torturer and the man who left Mor to die, but they talk shit about Elain and Mor, two of the least problematic people in the whole series. What's that trend driven by? I'll give you one guess.) But that's a cultural problem, not necessarily an individual one. Are there people who are more guilty of this than others? Yes. So you block those people. You feel whatever it is that their words made you feel, and then you decide how you want to react. Because your reaction? You own that. No one else does.

Okay anyway, back to you anon 😂 I also like both Rhys and Nesta. Rhys pissed me OFF a few times in acosf with how he treated her, but she pissed me off in that fight with Elain. I totally get what you mean when you say that Nesta doesn't get forgiveness as easily as Rhys. Especially considering their age differences and the fact that he's a High Lord who now has everything he ever wanted, and she's a traumatized woman spiraling into self harm.

I guess the thing I wish could happen, is that people either 1) read the things that are actually being written and take that person as an individual without assuming right away that they are pro this character and anti that character, and 2) just move along if they really are just an asshole we don't want to deal with. The way people see everything in black and white terms means that there are two options. We either end up in a circle jerk with people who think the exact same way we do, or we scream at people we think we have absolutely nothing in common with.

[jjmaybanksblog]

Bruises- JJ Maybank

Request: hi❤ I was wondering if u could do the scene where the pogues see JJ's bruises?

Word count: 2,455

Warnings: mentions of physical and verbal abuse.

“We gotta be done before my scholarship interview in the morning.” Pope explained to you and Kie as he pulled up to the back of the Chateau. “Okay, well, we gotta focus.”

“It’s gonna be fine. We got John B and JJ inside the well, and me up top. You, Y/N, and Sarah will be outside transporting.” Pope recalled the plan, exiting the truck.

They headed to the back of his vehicle, opening the back to grab their supplies. “That tin can hold up to like, 200-300 pounds.”

“Thanks.” Kie praised him as she unlatched the hinge. 

“Uh, what for?”

“For stranding us. You know, making us make up.” Kie softly grinned as you stood next to her. 

“Seriously Pope, you’re like the super glue for this group.” You complimented. “What makes you think that was me?”

Before Kie could respond, lines full of lights turned on, confusing the trio. A loud buzzing sound leading them towards the backyard.

“What the hell?” 

You guys walked into the area, colored and festive lights hung everywhere. Inflatable palm trees chilled in the corner. JJ sat in a shiny new hot tub, popping a bottle of champagne open.

“JJ?” you asked as you walked up to the front of the hot tub. “What did you do, JJ” Pope asked in disbelief. 

“I got a jet going straight in my butt right now. Y’all should get in immediately, you hear me? Salud!” JJ cheered to no one as he poured out a glass, only to drink straight from the bottle.

“How much did this cost?” Pope asked, already knowing the answer.

“Uh… well, with the generator, the petrol, and oh, hey, express delivery… pretty much all of it, yeah.” JJ’s words were slurred, clearly intoxicated.

Pope's jaw fell open, “all of it?”

“Yeah, all of it.” JJ confirmed, pushing his sunglasses up. “You spent all the money in one day?”

“Yeah, burned a hole right through my pocket. But I mean like, come one guys, like, look at this! Finest in jet-based massage therapy, that’s what they told me.” JJ grinned at his actions. You furrowed your eyebrows at him, watching him take another drink from the bottle.

JJ noticed the look on your face, "Y/N, what? Can’t a man have a little luxury in his life? Come on,” he flung his sunglasses off, “all this scrimpin’ and scrapin’. I mean like… guys, we- you only live once, right? Enough of this emotional shit. Get in the Cat’s Ass. Come on.” 

“In the what?” Kie asked softly.

“In the Cat’s Ass. That’s what I named her.” JJ giggled to himself as he let the jets hit the back of his muscles. 

“Oh, hey, yo, I almost forgot.” He leaned over and pressed a button, a disco ball lighting up and spinning around.

“Yeah, that’s right, I know. Disco mode. That’s right baby!” He cheered in excitement.

“Are you kidding me? You could have paid for restitution!” Pope raised his voice. “Or literally given it to any charity!” Kie snapped. “Guys…” You started, seeing the pain in JJ’s eyes. 

“Or better yet you could’ve helped us buy supplies to get the rest of the gold out of the well!” Pope continued as JJ rubbed his eyes.

“Okay well you know what? I didn’t do that.” JJ yelled back as he stood up from his spot, revealing the new red and purple marks that littered his chest. You gasped, covering your mouth with your hands.

“I got a hot tub! For my friends. I got a hot tub for my friends. You know what? No, screw friends. I got a hot tub for my family!” JJ cried out, his voice wavering. “I got this for you.” He pointed to the champagne bottle that was already half empty.

Your eyes welled up with tears, noticing just how broken JJ Maybank was. “Guys, look what I did for you! Alright? Look at this!”

“JJ…” your voice cracked, “no, you, you both stop being emotional. It’s fine, okay?”

You marched up the steps of the hot tub, stopping at the first step, “come on Y/N, just get in.” You pulled the boy into your arms as you both cried against each other. His head rested on your stomach as you leaned your head down to rest on top of his.

“I just couldn’t do it.” JJ sobbed, his body shaking from the pain. He tightened his grip around your waist as you held him in your arms. One hand rubbed his shoulder while the other softly held onto the back of his head. 

“I can’t take him anymore!” He screamed into your chest, “I was gonna kill him.” 

“It’s okay baby, I got you. You’re safe with us.” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Kie and Pope joined you on the steps, wrapping the boy in a group hug. “I just wanna do the right thing.” He admitted, letting out a heartbreaking sob.

“We know.” Kie reassured him, “we know.”

One by one the friends let go of him, "you guys can finish up whatever you were doing, I'll take care of him." JJ refused to let go of your waist as your fingers softly rubbed his scalp.

'I got this.' You mouthed, your friends nodding their heads in acknowledgment. The two walked away to continue their plans, you slowly lifted JJ's head up to look at you.

"Hey JJ, let's get you out of here, is that okay?" You spoke softly. He nodded his head, slowly releasing you. You held his hand as you eased him out of the hot tub and down the steps.

"Stay right here, I'm gonna grab a towel." JJ muttered a gentle 'okay'. Sniffing to clear his sinuses. Running inside the house, you yanked a towel off the bathroom rack and headed back outside.

You wrapped it around his waist before leading him inside by his hand. Entering the bedroom, you picked out a pair of boxers and shorts for him to change into. "Do you think you can change into this without my help?" You asked him, holding out the clothes.

JJ nodded his head as he stumbled across the hall into the bathroom. You stood on the outside of the door, harshly biting down on your tongue. You've never seen JJ so broken, so hurt, and you wished you had known he was dealing with this.

You felt guilt and anger for not knowing about this sooner. Whenever JJ appeared with a new bruise or cut, he always told her that he got into a brawl with a Kook. He lied to you for 7 years, you never caught on which killed you on the inside.

After a few minutes, JJ opened the door with the towel in his hands, and changed into dry clothes. "Can we go lay down?" He questioned, his words still slurred. "Yeah, of course hunny."

He walked into the bedroom and sighed. Without thinking he plopped himself onto the bed, letting out a cry of pain as the bed hit his bruises.

Biting your bottom lip you asked, "do you want me to get you an ice pack?" He nodded his head, resting his hands on his eyes. Heading into the kitchen, you grabbed an ice tray, dumping some ice cubes out into a ziplock bag.

You walked back into the room, shutting the door quietly. JJ praised you as you handed him the bag of ice. He placed it on the biggest bruise he had. "Can you- can you stay with me? And play with my hair because honestly it makes me feel safe." He admitted, not even processing what he was saying.

You sat down next to him, allowing him to rest his head in your lap. Your fingers found your way to his hair, letting them run through and massage his scalp. You sat in silence before he spoke up. "I really, really like you Y/N. Like Really." He emphasized the final 'really'.

"I really, really like you too JJ." You spoke the truth. "You know, these last few days have been crazy as fuck. You know you've been there. But the amount of times I almost lost you scared the shit out of me." He confessed, his hand reaching up to place itself on your leg.

"And-and when we almost got shot at Crains, my soul nearly left my body. I want to keep you safe." Your eyebrows furrowed together as you listened to his words.

"But I'm a fuck up and I don't wanna ruin your life. I mean my own dad doesn't want me, why would you?" His voice cracked. You reached your hand down towards his face to make him look at you.

"Hey, don't say that JJ. You have made my life so much better in every single way possible. You show you care about me. You let me smoke with you so we both forget about our problems together. You taught me more shit about fishing than I knew. You can call me the worst names possible, but it doesn't bother me because I do the same to you. It scares me how much I like you because in a snap you could be gone. Hell, when you got arrested I couldn't sleep the night of." You rambled on, realizing that maybe you had more than a silly crush on him. 

"You're cute when you ramble." He muttered, grinning at the sound of your laugh, yawning loudly afterwards. "You ready to sleep hun?" You asked, a nod answering the question. You shifted a bit, laying down as he rested his head on your chest. You kissed the side of his head, feeling his arm around your waist slowly tighten its grip.

______________♡_____________

You woke up, and checked the clock reading the time, '9:36'. Turning your head, you saw JJ still passed out, his snoring filling the room. Carefully getting out of the bed, you walked outside into the backyard and headed straight to the hammock. 

You sat alone peacefully, the smell of the waters filled the air, the sounds of birds chirping softly echoed, and the feeling of a cool breeze skimmed your tan skin, sunglasses covering your eyes from the sun. Footsteps came up from behind you, a figure plopped itself down next to you.

A groan emitted from JJ's mouth, shutting his eyes from the blinding sunlight. "How's the hangover?" You asked, handing over the sun glasses. "Feels like I have forks jammed in my head. Thanks." He grabbed the sunglasses, quickly putting them on.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" You asked, fiddling with your thumbs. "Uhhh, I remember almost falling into the bathtub when I was changing. And then- oh..." he trailed off remembering parts of the conversation you had.

The two sat in silence again as JJ rested his hand on your thigh. "I wish I could've stopped that from happening." You broke the silence, your voice wavering at the image in your head of his bruises.

JJ shook his head, "No, no you-you do enough for me. I feel like I don't deserve you." He whispered the last part. Your heart clenched at his confession. "JJ, you are the best part of my life." Your hand cupped his, looking at the boy who lifted up the sunglasses.

"I want to be able to take you on dates and treat you like a princess and buy you everything you could ever want. But I'm a Pogue, that could never happen." He clenched his jaw, knowing deep down you deserve someone who could give you anything you wanted.

"JJ, I'm literally a Pogue too. I don't care if you don't have money because guess what? I don't either. That doesn't change the fact that I love you. Just being with you makes me feel safe."

JJ's mouth slightly fell open, allowing those three words to sink in. You realized what you had said before it was too late. Your facial expressions matched his as you quickly looked down at your hands. They sat there, trying to process the words you just said.

Stress flooded through your body as you waited for his response, only to continue to sit in silence. "I know that was just kinda thrown at you but please just be my best friend right now and not the guy I just confessed my love to." You spoke up, killing the silence.

"I don't want to be your best friend." He started, instantly making your heart drop into your stomach. "What?" You whispered, continuing to crack your knuckles.

"I don't want to be your best friend. I want to be your boyfriend. I want to take you out on dates. I want to do those weird face masks with you. I want to do any cliché shit you want to do. I want to do anything and everything with you. I want you to be my girlfriend so whenever we go to parties I can be like, 'this is my girlfriend' and show you off. I want more than just being best friends." He said, reaching over with his hand to hold the bottom of your chin.

JJ looked down at your lips before glancing back up to your eyes. Your heart rate picked up, "kiss me." You assured him, turning to face him. Your eyes fluttered shut as you both leaned in, connecting your lips gently. JJ grinned into the passionate kiss, not being able to handle the butterflies in his stomach. 

You pulled back to catch your breaths, resting your foreheads against each other before you returned to your original position. He slung his arm around your shoulder, leaving you space to rest your head on his chest. You beamed as he used his index finger to rub up and down on your arm.

"Remember back in freshman year during homecoming, I asked you to dance with me to 'The Night We Met'?" JJ tilted his head down towards you, locking eyes. You nodded your head in response. "John B and Pope hyped me up for at least an hour to encourage me to ask you. And when you had your head on my chest and I just held you, it felt like we were the only two people alive. And I loved that feeling, I don't want it to ever go away." 

Your smile got wider, remembering the moment as if it were yesterday. "It won't." He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before falling back into a comfortable silence.

"Just making sure... we are dating right?" JJ spoke up earning a chuckle from you. "Yes. Yes we are."