#I heard a song and had to write because whose the devil kidding

[gancegancerevo]

The Devil went Down to Georgia and played a surprisingly mid beat

A hundred goons and rocking tunes couldn't hide that he was weak

And so Johnny boy figured out his opponent was a fool

For you don't walk to gunfight with a sword from 1802

[damonalbarn]

Hey I was wondering if you knew the article that Justine spoke about suzi in?!

It was in The Guardian in 2000. Here you go:

Sweet revenge

In the mid 90s, Justine Frischmann and Damon Albarn were the First Couple of Britpop. Then he used a Blur album to rake over their break-up, while she languished in obscurity amid rumours of heroin addiction. Now she's back with a new album, and it's her turn to exorcise her demons.

Caroline Sullivan

Friday March 24, 2000

As Alison Moyet once said, it's hard to write a decent song when you're happy. Rock bands thrive on romantic turmoil in their private lives, without which they would be reduced to padding out lyrics with football scores and the weather.

Thus it was for Blur's Damon Albarn in mid-1998 when he sat down to write what would become the 13 album. His eight-year relationship with Justine Frischmann of the chart-topping Elastica, whom he once described as **"the only person who's ever been completely necessary to me" **had just ended, at her instigation. Pained and humiliated, he decided to exact revenge by exposing their most intimate details to public scrutiny.

The outcome? Embarrassment for Frischmann, a number one album for Blur and a bit of a result for Albarn.

Break-up albums are by definition both embittered and yearning - in the case of Marvin Gaye's vindictive Here, My Dear, they're just plain nasty - but 13 got more up-close and personal than could be considered gentlemanly. Albarn portrayed his former partner as neurotic, even slipping apparent drug references into the single Tender: "Tender is the ghost, the ghost I love the most/Hiding from the sun, waiting for the night to come". Frischmann was the ghost, supposedly, who was on the verge of being consumed by what one music paper euphemistically called "the darkness at the heart of Elastica".

Frischmann's response can be found on a song called The Way I Like It, which appears on Elastica's first album in five years, The Menace (out next month): "Well, I'm living all right and I'm doing okay/Had a lover who was made of sand, and the wind blew him away".

This is unlikely to be her last word on the subject. As she ambivalently begins her first round of interviews since 1996, she's finding that everyone has the same three questions. Why did Elastica nearly sabotage a promising career by taking so long to follow up their million-selling debut? Had Frischmann taken leave of her senses when she walked out on Mr Britpop? And what about the drug rumours?

"One journalist said to me, 'Dahling, I heard you were on heroin - Mahvelous!' " she says with some amusement. "Drugs are around, but I'm not that interested and never have been, although there have been elements of party animal in my band. The rumours are a lot to do with rock'n'roll mythology, where people want to believe you're having a more exciting time than you are."

The only drugs on her person today, as she perches on the edge of an armchair in her publicist's north London living room, are Marlboro Lights. Her other indulgences are two cups of herbal tea and a Cadbury's Flake cupcake, which she nibbles with well-bred pleasure. Her dark eyes are clear, and her long, tanned body is a testament to the virtues of a daily swim in a pool near her Notting Hill home. Only Elastica know whether they really succumbed to heroin and hedonism after their self-titled debut made them more famous than they'd ever expected to be, but if they did, Frischmann, 30, seems little the worse for it.

Given the current predominance of damnable boy bands, the Britpop mid-90s are beginning to seem like a halcyon period for English music. It was a time when the underground went overground, and a self-described "little punk band" like Elastica could sell 80,000 albums in a week.

More than a few loser guitar groups saw Britpop as a licence to print money, but Elastica, led with cool elan by the androgynous Frischmann, were one of its gems. The Blur connection was a marketing godsend (Frischmann and Albarn met on the London indie circuit, she as guitarist in an early line-up of Suede and girlfriend of frontman Brett Anderson, he as a cherubic baggy hopeful), yet the spiky-haired Elastica LP embodied that euphoric time like nothing else.

Frischmann, guitarist Donna Matthews, drummer Justin Welch and bassist Annie Holland were unprepared for the album soaring to number one in its first week. When they signed their record deal, Frischmann, whose great-grandfather was a conductor of the Tsar's orchestra at the Summer Palace in Byelorussia, was five years into an architecture degree at London University. A liberal north London Jewish upbringing - her engineer father built the Oxford Street landmark Centrepoint - had instilled expectations of success, but the reality of being photographed in the supermarket and having her rubbish stolen was a shock. Fiercely independent, she also resented her unsought role as half of Britpop's First Couple.

There was more. Two of Frischmann's musical heroes, The Stranglers and Wire, decided that two Elastica songs were suspiciously similar to two of their own tracks, and won royalties. Meanwhile, there were malicious rumours that Albarn had done much of the work on the record. He hadn't, but he did find Justine's success in America, where she was substantially out-selling Blur, hard to endure.

"It was very hard for him to deal with and he's very confrontational," she says, with the flattering openness of someone who prefers interviews to be more like conversations. She admits she often says too much, but in an era of image control and spin, her honesty makes her a one-off. Not that she's likely to land herself in it too badly - she possesses the intellectual ammunition to look after herself, which must have been instrumental in attracting two of rock's more articulate stars, Albarn and Anderson.

She's been accused of being a professional rock girlfriend, though it was probably they who were lucky to get her. She spent the cab ride over reading the Sylvia Plath letters in Monday's Guardian, and muses on the irony of the poet's subjugating herself to Ted Hughes when she was the more gifted. (Her new boyfriend, by the way, is an unknown photographer, "though that'll probably change, because men seem to get famous when I go out with them".)

"I reacted the way a lot of women do, by being passive," she continues. "He put a lot of pressure on me to give up Elastica. He said, 'You don't want to be in a band, you want to settle down and have kids.' " In so many words? "In so many words. He kept putting on pressure till I started to believe him." She adds bemusedly: "I've met his new girlfriend, and one of the first things she said was that he wanted her to give up travelling with her work to stay home with the baby [Missy, born last autumn]. I'm surprised he's got away with being thought of as a nice person for so long."

After 18 months, during which they did seven American and three Japanese tours, Elastica came off the road to record company demands for an immediate second album. Annie Holland's response was to quit the group, while Donna Matthews became renowned for hard partying on the nocturnal west London scene. They lethargically recorded some demos, but their heart wasn't in it. By 1997, when a second album should have been ready to go, Frischmann and Matthews were barely speaking, and there was nothing useable down on tape.

Holland's replacement, Sheila Chipperfield (of the circus Chipperfields), was deemed not good enough and left by mutual consent. By 1998, their continued lack of productivity was being likened to the Stone Roses' lengthy and ultimately self-destructive holiday between their first and second LPs.

"I didn't think Elastica were going to continue at that point, and we did kinda split up," she says, absently stroking her publicist's cat. Frischmann is a cat person; she's owned a tabby called Benjamin since she was 10. "Unconditional love," she coos. The pet's place in her life is so assured that prospective boyfriends are subjected to his feline scrutiny before she'll go out with them.

On top of everything else, in early 1998 her relationship with Albarn was in trouble. Frischmann retains enough of the indie ethic to detest the phenomenon of celebrity couples, and was dismayed when they became one. "I really hated the tabloid interest, and I went out of my way not to be photographed with him. Only about three pictures of us together exist, I think. In many ways, I think the media interest broke us up, because it made me feel the relationship was quite ugly, and I had to get away from it. There were other factors, too, obviously, because we were together for eight years, and I finally felt it was better the devil you didn't know, really."

Albarn's ego seems to have been severely undermined by having a girlfriend who was nearly as successful as he was, and something of a sex symbol to boot. Despite adopting a resolutely boyish T-shirt-and-jeans uniform, she's thoroughly feminine, a mix that got her voted fifth most fanciable woman in a lesbian magazine.

"I'm completely heterosexual, so I didn't know how to take that. It scares the shit out of me, the idea of being with a girl. I'm glad I've narrowed it down to half the people in the world."

She seems to view Albarn with indulgent exasperation these days, simultaneously praising his intelligence ("The Gallaghers just couldn't compete") and ticking off his flaws. "Damon adores being in the press, and sees all press as good press. He orchestrated that rivalry thing with Oasis. He really wanted kids, and I didn't feel our relationship was stable enough. He was a naughty boy, and he wasn't the right person to have kids with. I had this cathartic moment..."

At which point they split up. Albarn wrote 13 and then met Suzi Winstanley, an artist. "She was pregnant within three months," Justine observes wickedly.

Of the acclaimed 13, she's tactful, describing several songs as "really lovely". She studies her cigarette for a while before adding, "but I'm cynical about selling a record on the back of our relationship". But you're doing the same now. "It's true, but at the time I had no right of reply."

Elastica finally pulled themselves together last year, just as the music industry was about to write them off (their American label had already "very kindly let us go", as she puts it). Holland rejoined, Matthews went to Wales to sort out her life and the band banged out an EP and played the Reading Festival. Things came together quickly after that. They spent the last £10,000 of the recording budget on re-recording a dozen tracks, finishing the album, after years of procrastinating, in six weeks. They've called it The Menace "because that's what it was like to make".

It's dark and resolutely uncommercial - all wrong for 2000's pop-oriented climate. It's unlikely to match the success of the first one, which is fine with them. Call it (though Justine doesn't) their White Album. Its 70s punk aesthetic brings to mind angry girls such as the Slits and the Au Pairs, although the defining mood isn't anger so much as catharsis. None of the songs is specifically about Albarn, she claims. "The dark feeling is due to the sense of isolation, tasting success and getting frightened by it. I was questioning whether I wanted to be in a band any more, and there was no one I could ask for advice. Getting success and everything you ever dreamed about is hard to handle, and makes you question everything."

She's better prepared for success, if it comes again, this time. Already the privacy-preserving barriers are in place. The next interview of the day is with Time Out magazine, which wants a list of her favourite restaurants. "I'm not telling them where I eat," she says reflexively. "I'm gonna lie."

[shadow-assassin-blix]

How do you like me now

William ‘Ironhead’ Miller x reader

Another song fic. Warnings: dumb ex, shitty parents. 

So, I’ve had this one on my mind for a long while, and I may actually write more about this one, like a mini series maybe. I also just like the thought of Will having a kid and the shenanigans. 

Everything: @mikeisthricedeceased 

Triple Frontier Boys: @artsymaddie @mcrmarvelloki​ 

Yeah, I was always the crazy one broke into the stadium

And I wrote your number on the 50-yard line

Will wouldn’t have admitted openly but when he was younger, he was a lot like Santi in that he slept around a lot. Broke many hearts when he was a teenager. To put it simply? He was an ass.

Time in the army changed that, especially when he met the men who would become his brothers. Between Pope, Catfish, and Redfly he was nowhere near the same person he was when he left high school. Benny liked to tease him a lot, whenever they came home to visit their parents.

In fact, that was what he was currently doing. He, and Benny, were driving home with Santi and Frankie in the back. His parents needed furniture moved out; they were downsizing to a smaller home.  So, the four of them were going to be their muscles for it.

Benny was exaggerating many parts of several stories, that caused Will to roll his eyes constantly before correcting him.

He pulled into the driveway of his parent’s home, quietly wondering whose car was parked in front of their house. He shrugged it off not thinking too hard on it. The four of them walked up to the door and knocked.

Their mother, Winnie Miller, opened the door with a smile, “My boys! You’re early!”

She greeted Santi and Frankie as they all came inside with hugs and cheek kisses.

“Figured we may as well get here as soon as possible to start moving stuff out,” Will explained as his mother fretted over him and Benny, stating ‘we were too skinny.’

“Well, I do have some company but that shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Come into the kitchen, we just made some cookies,” Winnie said as she led them forward.

Benny bounded forward excitedly rushing past their mother to the kitchen. As they caught up to him, Will noticed he had stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the person sitting at the island.

“Benny, what the hell are y-…” Will started to ask but stopped as he took her in as well.

He muttered her name as he watched her straightened up.

You were always the perfect one and a valedictorian

So under your number I wrote "Call for a good time"

“You mean She-Devil?” Benny grumbled glaring at her.

She waved awkwardly, and said, “Benny. Hey, Will.”

“What are you doing here, Venus?” Will asked her, using her old nickname from high school.

“Just uh… talking…” She answered biting her lip, looking uncomfortable at the attention she was receiving.

“Hm. Talking? Planning on running someone else over?” Benny asked mockingly.

“It was an accident,” She mumbled shaking her head.

“Is that another exaggeration?” Santi asked as he and Frankie moved to stand to the side.

“Nope. She jumped the curb and broke Will’s leg in 3 places!” Benny exclaimed, waving his arms.

Will winced slightly at that and scratched the back of his neck.

“Can you not?” Venus threw back crossing her arms.

“Benny. Chill. Just… go outside with the guys, please,” Will commanded him gently not wanting a fight to start.

Just then a small voice could be heard behind him, “Mommy?”

Venus tensed, taking a deep breath, before passing by him to walk into the living room. On the couch was a little girl, who had been taking a nap.

Will gazed at the girl noting she was about 3 years old, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Blue eyes that looked eerily similar to his own.

“Benny. Seriously, go outside. Calm down,” Will called over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving Venus and her daughter.

He heard Benny huff and storm outside.

“I’ll go… talk to him,” Came Santi’s voice as he followed Benny.

Frankie looked at the two people in the living room, and then at Will. He could very easily connect the dots that was going on within Will’s brain.

Will stepped forward and glanced between her and the child.

“Something you want to tell me?” Will questioned her softly.

She sighed, picking her daughter up, who immediately clung to her neck.

“Her name is Charlotte,” She said quietly.

“…. After my grandmother?” Will murmured lowly.

She nodded once, not making eye contact.

Will nodded, rubbing his hand over his face, exasperated.

He walked back into the kitchen, giving his mother a pointed look.

“Give her a chance to explain,” Winnie pleaded.

He sighed heavily, before turning back around. However, she wasn’t there. He could hear doors closing and the sound of an engine starting up.

“Seems you got some splainin’ to do, brother,” Frankie stated as he snagged a cookie.

Will turned to his mother, and inquired, “How long have you known?”

“A couple of months. She… she was going through some things and came home to deal with some shit with her parents. I saw her at the grocery store with Lottie and knew immediately. Course, she tried to deny it at first, but Lottie looks exactly like you. Can’t fool me,” Winnie explained as Benny and Santi came back in.

“What are we talking about?” Benny was confused as to what he just walked into.

“Nothing,” Will said shortly, turning and walking out of the house.

He knew where she was heading. Same place she always did when she was stressed.

I only wanted to get your attention

But you overlooked me somehow

It was a 15-minute drive to the nearby park, and another 10 minutes following an old hiking path that led to a beautiful pond.

That was where she was, with her… their… daughter who was happily chasing after butterflies.

“Figured you’d be here,” He announced his arrival as he stood near her.

“You always did know me best,” She replied, not looking at him.

Will sat next to her on the worn bench that had been there since they were in high school. He fondly watched their daughter as she began to make flower crowns.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He softly asked her.

“Because it was a one-night stand, after far too many shots. Figured you didn’t want to see me ever again. When I found out I was pregnant… I wanted to tell you but…” She started but her voice faltered at the end.

“But you thought I would reject you?” He supplied as he stared at her, noting her teary eyes.

She nodded in response, “Yeah. Plus, there was… a lot of drama with my parents and I didn’t want to involve you.”

“My mother mentioned that. What happened?” Will wanted answers.

“You remember how I told you about my last ex, when we… were last together?” She began, waiting for his nod. “Imagine their reaction when they found out I was pregnant.”

He rolled his eyes up to the high heavens, “Let me guess? They threw a conniption?”

“…Sorta…” She said softly. “They disowned me.”

Will raised an eyebrow at that, “They what? Seriously?’

“Yep. No inheritance for me. We don’t even really talk anymore. They keep trying to say they’ll forgive me and give it back if I marry someone that they approve. Too bad I am not 16 anymore, desperate for their attention,” She said bitterly.

He snorted at that, “So, my mom discovered your secret. What’s been happening there?”

“She keeps insisting that I come over to eat. Says I’m too skinny. I think she also just likes being a grandma,” She replied with a shake of her head. “I have my own place, I just… go over there to keep her company. Don’t… don’t exactly have any friends here. At least not anymore.”

“Mh. She says that about everyone,” Will smiled. “You still have me.”

She looked over at him surprised, but appreciative. She gently scooted closer to him, giving him a side hug. He returned it, kissing the top of her head.

“Mommy? Who this?” Came Lottie’s voice.

They parted, and looked toward her, and her handful of flowers.

“Lottie. This is Will…your daddy,” She introduced her pulling her in close.

She looked at Will with wide eyes, before making grabby hands toward him. Will chuckled as he picked her up, letting her stand on his legs.

“Hi sweetheart,” He said sweetly to her.

She smiled shyly, looking down at her feet for a moment.

“May I hug you?” Her voice softly asked.

Will nodded with a smile, holding his arms out accepting the hug that she gave him. Her grip tightened after a moment and she collapsed against him. He held her in his arms, glancing over at Venus who was watching them fondly.

Besides you had too many boyfriends to mention

And I played my guitar too loud

An hour later, he was returning home alone. Venus took Charlotte home to finish her nap; they had made plans to have dinner together tonight.

He stepped inside the house with a heavy sigh, tossing his keys onto the side table near the door. He made his way back into the kitchen, where the guys and his parents were gathered drinking lemonade and eating cookies.

He snatched a glass from the cabinet and poured out some lemonade. He took a drink from it as his parents excused themselves to the living room.

“What the hell is going on Will?” Benny asked crossing his arms.

“Better question, who was the babe that apparently ran you over?” Santi chimed in looking at the two of them.

Will walked over to the table, taking a seat, waiting for the guys to join him.

“Venus… was the head cheerleader who I dated for several months. I broke up with her…. a week after we finally slept together… Needless to say…. She didn’t take it well,” Will began to explain.

“‘Didn’t take it well.’ Sure. That’s putting it lightly,” Benny rolled his eyes.

“She really ran you over?” Santi asked incredulously.

Will nodded once, wincing at the memory.

“So, yeah. She did that. Then we never really spoke to one another…until about 4 years ago,” Will continued.

“You saw her 4 years ago? Why? What the hell prompted you to talk to the She-Devil?” Benny questioned angrily.

“Hey, enough with the ‘She devil’ stuff alright? It…. Was some time after Jessica called off our engagement. Was at a bar… so was she… we talked,” Will explained vaguely.

“You mean the two of you got shit faced and slept together?” Santi laughed.

Will shrugged somewhat, avoiding eye contact with Benny.

“She had been engaged herself… and… the guy was killed in a hit and run incident… 3 days before their wedding. Apparently, her parents didn’t approve of him because he was an artist, not something fancy like a lawyer. Her parents had no sympathy for her,” Will cleared his throat briefly. “So, yeah. We drank. We slept together….”

“…made a kid…” Frankie coughed quietly.

Benny’s face became one of pure disbelief before he stood up, shaking his head, and leaving the room.

“The little tyke we saw earlier?” Santi clarified.

Will and Frankie both nodded, with Frankie adding with a tease, “Looked just like Will too. Frown and all.”

Will rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face as he thought about how much Charlotte looked like him.

When I took off to Tennessee

I heard that you made fun of me

Approximately 2 hours later, Will had cleaned up and stood in front of Venus’ apartment. He knocked firmly and heard a small set of feet run to the door. He heard the doorknob jiggle a few times before it finally turned, and the door swung open.

He looked down, spotting his mini me, shyly looking around the door.

“Hi,” She quietly said, opening the door a little wider for him.

“Hey sweetie,” Will greeted her with a smile, stepping inside. “Where’s your mom at?”

“In here!” Came Venus’ voice from further in the apartment.

Charlotte grabbed his pants leg, tugging on it slightly. Will squatted down near her, closing and locking the door as he did.

“Mommy’s trying to impress you, but she’s not the best cook,” Charlotte whispered to him.

Will snorted softly, nodding his head, “She wasn’t a good cook when we were younger either. Let me go see if I can save dinner yeah?”

Charlotte giggled at that, and the two of them made their way toward the kitchen.

Will came up beside Venus and asked, “So, what are you making?”

“It… it was supposed to be chicken alfredo but… apparently the kitchen still hates me when I try to cook because nothing turned out right,” She answered biting her lip, looking dejected as she tried turned off the stove.

Will looked at it and noted that she had burned a great deal of it, and not much could be rescued.

“So… Pizza?” Will suggested looking back at her.

She shrugged, grabbing the takeout menus and setting them out. Will watched as she walked down the hallway, mumbling she was going to clean up a bit. Will ordered the food, and then cleaned the pans, tossing out the inedible food. When the pans were clean, he told Charlotte to go clean up as well, while he checked on Venus.

He walked toward her bedroom, noting the light coming from it. He took a step knocking lightly on the door looking around for her. She wasn’t in the bedroom, so he moved over to the ensuite bathroom.

“Venus? You okay?” He quietly asked her.

He didn’t hear a response, so he gently pushed open the door. She was standing at the sink, glaring down at it. He leaned against the counter, his hand gently resting on top of hers.

She glanced at it, her gaze slowly moving up to meet his.

“Sorry for ruining dinner. Guess I should stick to baking, never have a problem there,” She said to him with a small shrug.

“Sweetie… I knew the second we decided to have dinner, that it would probably be takeout. I don’t mind. Maybe, I need to teach you how to cook…or at least see where you keep going wrong,” Will lightly teased her.

She weakly chuckled, “I might take you up on that. Does… does that mean you may stick around?”

“Probably… We’ll talk more later,” Will promised. “Now, let’s go watch a movie while we wait for pizza.”

She nodded, and without letting go of her hand, he walked with her back to the living room. Charlotte was on the floor in front of the movie case, trying to pick out a movie.

She eventually chose Big Hero Six, the three of them settling onto the couch to watch it. Will got up about 30 mins in to grab and pay for the pizza. Once everyone had a slice, and drinks, they resumed. Charlotte fell asleep after a slice and a half, toward the end of the movie.

Will easily picked her up, following Venus to her room. He tucked her into bed, Venus placing a large polka dot elephant in with her.

When they stepped back out, Venus whispered, “That elephant is her favorite, she will not sleep through the night if it’s not with her.”

“Good to know,” Will whispered back, looking down at her fondly.

Venus could feel her face warm at the look Will was giving her, and felt her breath hitch slightly, as Will leaned down. He paused, waiting to see if she objected to him making a move. When he saw none, he continued, pressing his lips lightly to hers.

Venus froze for a moment, before responding, kissing back more firmly. Will’s hand came to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against it softly. His other arm, wrapped around her waist, pulling her in close. Her hands clenched at the fabric of his shirt, wrinkling it.

They kissed for what felt like hours but was really only minutes. When they parted, they were breathless.

“Think we should have that talk,” Venus murmured her head resting against his chest.

She felt him nod and the two of them walked back into the living room, sitting on the couch.

For a moment it was quiet, as both of them worked up the courage to speak.

“I want the both of you in my life,” Will started eventually.

“You do?” Venus was surprised.

“Yeah… Not going to lie… seeing you 4 years ago… made me realize just how much I regretted what I did in high school…” Will admitted.

“….Why did you break up with me? Because… you said it was for a bet, but… Andrew didn’t recall such a bet when we dated,” Venus said with a raised eyebrow.

“Can’t believe you dated him. Andrew was such a dick…” Will shook his head. “I broke up with you… because… I was terrified. It was our senior year… I had no plans for college, but you did… Felt like I was going to… hold you back or disappoint you.”

Venus stare at him with wide eyes before smacking him on the arm.

When she heard the satisfying ‘ow’ in response, she spoke, “You were never a disappointment… nor did I think you would hold me back. When I heard you left for the army, I was extremely proud of you. Worried as hell, but proud.”

Never imagined I'd make it this far

Then you married into the money girl

“You were worried for me?” Will asked curiously.

“Yeah. I was. Just because we weren’t together didn’t mean I stopped caring about you. I always wanted to ask your mom about you, but I figured she hated me for the whole… broken leg thing,” she said with a wince.

He laughed at that, “No. She told me I had it coming. Was surprised you didn’t try to hit me twice.”

Venus giggled a little at that.

“Can I ask you something? Why the hell are you still here, in this town with your shit parents?” Will asked her seriously.

“Rent agreement is 6 months. I have another month to get through. Don’t know what I’ll do after that,” Venus said simply.

Will thought for a few minutes, before proposing, “There’s… there’s several houses for rent in Castle Rock… in my neighborhood. You… you and Charlotte could come live near me?”

“Think you could handle us being that close to you? You know Lottie will want to come see you a lot. She… She gets attached quickly. Please don’t break her heart,” Venus requested firmly.

“I understand. I have no plans of hurting either of you, but you and I both know you need to get out of this town. It’s not good for you nor her to be around your parents,” Will said concerned, his hand brushing against her cheek.

“I know… You’re right. I only came back because apparently my grandparents left me everything, and my parents… were not happy. Tough shit,” Venus scoffed. “They keep dragging in lawyers to try and dispute the will. It’s been such a pain in the ass.”

“What exactly is there to dispute? Didn’t your grandparents change their will when we graduated high school?” Will questioned.

She nodded, “Though… most people assumed it was them trying to spoil me. In reality, my parents didn’t approve of me going into architecture. So, they put limits on my accounts, thinking that if they made it difficult for me to pay for things that I would suddenly change my major and do something I had no interest in.”

Will rolled his eyes, thinking back to when they had dated, how her parents never approved him. He wasn’t on the football team, with straight A’s or a plan for college. He played lacrosse, made decent grades and the only thing he look forward to was riding his Harley.

“I guess… the next thing we should talk about is us,” Venus said after a moment.

“Yeah… when… when we last saw each other we were both going through some intense shit. However, I don’t regret it. Or the result of it. Maybe we could… try dating again, not... start over necessarily but…” Will said with a sigh.

“Fresh page sort of thing?” Venus supplied biting her lip for a moment.

“Yeah. That sounds good. Um. So, I going to be here for a few days helping my parent’s move…” Will began.

“Yeah. Your mother has roped me into helping pack up the glassware and such. So… we will be seeing each other a lot… How pissed is Benny?” She asked with a small wince.

“He’ll get over it. But I figured you could meet my best friends and we could go out on more relaxed dates for a time?” Will offered reaching over to take her hand in his.

She smiled and nodded enthusiastically at the suggestion.

Ain't it a cruel and funny world?

He took your dreams, and he tore them apart

The next day rolled around, and as he woke up at 5am exactly like the others, he figured he and Benny needed to talk. He motioned for Benny to step outside with him, and with a frown, he does so.

“Look… I know you don’t like her for the shit she did when we were in high school. However, we were both just as bad. I forgave her for that shit years ago and so did she. I’m going to need you to try and tolerate her. Especially when her daughter is also your niece. Please, do not start a fight,” Will begged him.

Benny stared at him for a few minutes, before finally looking away, mumbling something under his breath.

He sighed heavily, turning to look back at Will who stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Sure. I’ll…try…I make no promises,” Benny grumbled after a moment.

“I’ll take it. She should be here in a bit, to help mom pack up,” He warned Benny.

“Why does this matter so much to you? I get wanting to be civil for the kid’s sake, but you always said that you didn’t care about her after y’all broke up,” Benny was trying to understand what was going through his brother’s head.

“… I lied. I… I never her told her this but her parents made sure to let me know that I was just going to hold her back and be a disappointment to her. Well. She knows the latter half… she doesn’t know it came from her parents. I let them get into my head and I broke her heart to make it easier,” Will explained as he tucked his hands into pants pockets.

“Shit… You let those freaks into your head? Explains why you were so miserable for so long,” Benny replied, scoffing.

Will did a half shrug as they walked back inside to see Frankie serving breakfast, waffles and bacon. The four of them ate making plans on which rooms they should work on first. After creating a plan of attack, it was almost 7am and there was a quiet knock at the door.

Benny was the one who went and answered it. Will closed his eyes, tensing, expecting raised voices and fists landing.

Benny answered the door, finding Venus standing there with Charlotte in her arms. Venus straightened up as she realized who stood there.

“Morning,” Benny greeted first.

“Mornin’. Lottie. This is Benny, he’s your uncle. He’s a bit silly,” Venus introduced Charlotte to him, softly.

Charlotte looked at him, shyly waving at him.

“Hi,” She said with a small wave.

“Hey. C’mon in. Frankie made waffles if you’re hungry?” Benny offered waving them in.

“Oooh. Waffles? Waffles are your favorite, isn’t that right sweetie?” Venus cooed to her.

Lottie nodded with a small yawn.

Benny escorted them back into the kitchen where Frankie was cleaning up the mess he made after serving breakfast, and Santi & Will were sitting at the table still. Lottie upon seeing Will, wiggled down in her Venus’ arms, wanting to be set down. Venus placed her on the ground, straightening out her clothes for a moment before letting Lottie run over to Will.

When she stood near him, he immediately picked her up and placed her in his lap, and she curled up into his arms.

Frankie quietly called for Venus’ attention, asking her, “Would she like a full waffle or half?”

“Half. She never finishes a full. Thank you,” Venus said appreciating him as he took a waffle and cut it in half.

He cut a slice of bacon in half as well, before coming over to Will with the food and syrup. Venus quietly grabbed from the fridge a small container of fresh mixed fruit, grabbing a small plastic bowl to scoop some into it. She served the fruit alongside the waffles that Lottie was currently devouring.

“Slow down sweetie, the food isnt going anywhere. You are going to make yourself sick eating that fast,” Venus lightly warned her.

Charlotte slowed down after that, mumbling a quiet sorry.

She finished eating about 20 minutes later, and thanked Frankie for the food, stating, “It was really good.”

Frankie smiled brightly and told her, “You are very welcome, honey.”

By then Will’s parents had woken up and were dressed for the day. They made their own plates and were eating as Benny told them the plan.

Will noticed Venus hadn’t made herself anything and was simply leaning against one of the counters in the kitchen, waiting.

Will stood up, placing Charlotte in his seat with a quick kiss on the head.

Will stood next to her, and said lowly, “There’s plenty of food for you to eat as well.”

Venus sighed softly, “I know. Not really hungry. Never am when my parents call.”

“What did they say this time?” Will asked looking at her with slight concern.

“The usual. I’m a disappointment. We didn’t raise you to be like this. If you just did what we asked, things would be easier for the both of you. We want to know our granddaughter and you are depriving us. Blah Blah Blah,” Venus said in a monotoned voice.

“Tch. They had plenty of opportunities to get to know her. Don’t let them ruin your day, simply because they want to be manipulative and guilt trip you,” Will stated matter-of-factly.

Venus nodded, understanding him, but it was still difficult to do. She had heard the same lines long before she left high school. In fact, she started hearing them when she dated Will because he wasn’t on their approved list of suitors. Honestly, that fact alone made her like Will even more, because it meant she didn’t have to put on a façade.

They didn’t get to say much more as his parents finished up, and his mother wandered over to her to start wrapping and packing up the fragile items. It was quiet work as the guys moved out furniture onto a truck, some furniture was going to their new place in Denver, but many others were being donated to other families in town who needed them.

Charlotte helped by dispensing tape for a while before growing bored and running to go supervise the guys. Venus shook her head, chuckling.

“It seems things are going pretty well with you and Will…” Winnie’s teased her. “I notice he didn’t come home until late last night.”

Venus cleared her throat, as she felt her face warm up.  After their talk, they had spent a great deal of time… getting reacquainted with one another.

“I have no idea what you are talking about Winnie,” She replied her voice cracking halfway through.

“I haven’t seen him happy in a long time. Or that relaxed. He is usually always tense when he comes home, no matter who is with him or what is going on. I assume he knows what’s going on?” Winnie asked her as they taped up some boxes.

“Yeah. He knows. Told me that uhh… there are some houses up for rent around his neighborhood. I might… see into that,” She informed Winnie, her movements slowing down as she thought about it.

“What’s that big ol’ brain of yours thinking now? I can see you getting lost in your thoughts. Or should I say your insecurities,” Winnie was always able to see right through her.

“Just… worried he’s going to change his mind… about us… about Charlotte. I don’t want to live closer to him just to have my heart broken again,” Venus confessed quietly.

“I understand. You cannot tell him I ever told you this but… when you were teenagers your father said a lot of things to him. Made him feel like this relationship was only going to end in misery. He left because he thought it was best despite the fact that he was miserable without you,” Winnie’s voice dropped as well.

Venus stared at her surprised. Everything made so much more sense now. She never understood why the breakup and even though Will had told her last night that he felt like he would be disappointment, she still didn’t understand where that came from. Now she did. Her father planted seeds of doubt and the both of them suffered because of it.

He never comes home, and you're always alone

And your kids hear you cry down the hall

A few hours had passed, and they had moved furniture out of at least 3 rooms and moved them to their new homes. Will chuckled as he watched Charlotte, or Charlie as Benny has taken to calling her, played with Benny in the front yard.

Benny and Frankie had stripped off their over shirts, Benny in a tank and Frankie in a simple white tee. Will and Santi had taken their shirts off completely, all four of them trying to cool off as they rested.

Venus stepped outside at that point with an armful of water bottles. She passed one out to everyone, checking on Charlotte.

“Sweetie, why don’t you come sit in the shade for a bit,” She said bringing her over to the porch.

Charlotte got onto the porch swing, drinking from her small water bottle, with a sigh. Venus quietly looked her over, noting she looked like she had a bit of sunburn on her shoulders.

Venus looked over at the guys who were sprawled out all over the yard.

“Ya know… there’s this thing called air conditioning inside the house. If ya’ll want to crawl back inside. Drink your water… there’s also cold beer,” She tempted the four of them.

At the mention of cold beer, Benny and Santi popped up immediately, making their way inside. Frankie got up as well, but not as quickly. He chugged down his water, muttering a thanks to Venus as he joined the guys inside. Charlotte after a moment, followed them in as well, wanting to cool off.

Will, who was sitting on the steps, simply patted the spot next to him. Venus joined him with a smile, leaning against him lightly.

“So, your mom doesn’t want the four of you to strain yourselves. She wants you to take it easy tomorrow. I was thinking… maybe… we could go check out those rent houses if you were up for it,” Venus proposed, her chin resting against his bicep as she stared at him.

“Yeah. Yeah, we can do that. Charlotte can come with or she can stay here and be doted on by her grandparents,” Will said with a small chuckle.

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll want to stay here since Grandma Winnie plans to make more cookies tomorrow,” Venus said a smile on her face.

They spoke a little while longer, making plans for tomorrow, when a car pulled up to the house. A very nice and expensive car.

Venus stared at it with narrow eyes as she watched Andrew McIntosh step out.

“What are you doing here Andrew?” She asked him not bothering to stand up.

“Well. Your dear ole mother said you were refusing to answer her calls and wanted to know if you were okay. So, she asked me to come check on you,” Andrew answered looing at the house with disinterest.

“Well. I’m fine as you can see. Now leave. I don’t want to see or speak to you ever again,” Venus growled her body tensing with anger.

Will quietly placed his hand on her shoulder, before standing up.

He squared up in front of Andrew and said, “You’ve done your task, now get off my property.”

Andrew scoffed at him, “Can’t believe you. You were so desperate to get away from her. Kept claiming she was so damn clingy and needy.”

“No. That was you. I vaguely remember knocking you on your ass for it too. Seriously, get off my property before I remind you of all the times I kicked your ass when we were younger,” Will promised him.

Andrew shook his head, but even Venus could see that he was nervous, as he backed away. Andrew walked away and got back into his car, driving away.

Venus stood up as Will turned around, he took a deep breath to calm himself down.

“You really need to block your parents,” Will said after a moment.

“I know. She called once and then sent that shithead to come “check on me.” Most likely he’s going to go back to my mother and tell her I’m here and then I’ll get yet another phone call today. Such fun for me,” Venus said with a roll of her eyes.

Venus stared at him for a moment, before slowly wrapping her arms around his neck. His arms went to her waist, instinctively.

“Thank you for defending my honor. I appreciate it. I regret ever dating him,” She muttered to him.

She stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. He kissed her back, deepening the kiss. They kissed for a good minute before parting. The two of them smiled at each other before heading inside, holding hands.

As the guys drank and cooled off, Venus took the opportunity to bring Charlotte to the spare bedroom and apply some soothing lotion to her shoulders before putting her down for a nap. Once she was asleep, which didn’t take long, Venus stepped back out into the living room, and took a seat next to Will as they all talked.

About 30 minutes had passed when her phone began to ring. She glanced at the screen noticing the name was Horrid Woman aka her mother. Will noticed it and motioned for her to answer it. She does so, staring at him curiously. When it connected, he hit the speaker button.

“Young lady. You have so much explaining to do. Why in the world are you with that… that… hoodlum? You are going to send me to an early grave I swear. Enough is enough. It is time for you to come home and stop this nonsense. We’ve allowed you to have your rebellious phase, but it is now time for you to grow up and act like an adult. I swear I don’t know where I went wrong with you,” Her mother’s shrill voice ranted.

“‘That hoodlum?’ Seriously mom? Can you sound more like an 80s sitcom? I am not coming home. I am not going through a phase. Stop calling. Stop sending people to check on me. I don’t want anything to do with you, or dad,” Venus spoke calmly but her rage was stirring.

“Why I never… He is no good for you. All he will do is disappoint you and break your heart again. He’s done it once before,” Her mother continued.

“Yeah. about that… tell me mother… how much shit were you and dad spewing to him when we were together? Hmm? The way I see it, I was happy, and you couldn’t control me anymore. So, you two did what you do best: destroyed everything. Got me back under your thumb for a time. Sadly, for you, I am not a teenager desperate for your love and attention. I’m blocking this number, do not call me ever again,” Venus ended the call, blocking it immediately.

Venus tossed her phone onto the coffee table, standing up and walking down the hallway needing to be alone for a minute.

Benny was the first to react, “How are her parents still that much of a nightmare?”

Will shrugged, standing up as well, searching for her. He eventually found her in the laundry room, small sniffles filling the room. He gently pulled her into his arms, holding her as she cried quietly. He often found her in a similar state when they were younger, hidden away somewhere to cry in private after an argument with her parents. He knew from past experiences, to just be there for her and let her cry.

Alarm clock starts ringin' who could that be singin'

It's me baby, with your wake up call

The rest of the evening went smoother, the guys crashed in the bedroom they had been in last night. Will and Venus crashed on the couch, curled around each other. They fell asleep together, enjoying one another’s company.

Venus woke up, with her back to Will’s chest. She opened her eyes, feeling something nudging her. She looked down to see Lottie trying to join them. She checked the time, noting it was still early morning. She repositioned herself to lie on her back and pulled Lottie onto her chest, tossing the blanket over her.

“Bad dream sweetie?” Venus quietly asked her.

Charlotte nodded once, burying her face into her chest. Will, who woke up slightly, wrapped his arms around the both of them. The 3 of them fell back to sleep for a few more hours.

Winnie woke up a bit early, getting dressed, and making her way downstairs. She stopped short when she spotted the scene that was before her on the couch. She pulled out her phone to take a photo of it. Some time in the night they had shifted to where Will was on his back, Venus tucked under one arm, and Charlotte sprawled out on his chest.

Winnie made her way into the kitchen, finding the boys in the kitchen making breakfast.

“Good morning my boys. Ready to be my packing helpers today?” Winnie asked them, making herself a cup of coffee.

“Yes ma’am,” Santi answered, handing her a plate of food.

“One second, let me go and get my grandbaby. She’s an inch away from rolling off them and onto to the floor,” Winnie said setting her cup down next to the plate.

Winnie made her way over to them, gently waking Charlotte up as she picked her up off of Will’s chest. Charlotte grumbled a moment before rubbing at her eyes, slowly waking up.

“Good morning my sweet. Let’s go get dressed and have breakfast, hmm” Winnie cooed to her taking her to the spare bedroom.

Will woke up when he heard his mother, opening his eyes eventually. He looked down at Venus, gently waking her up too. Venus stretched gently, slowly sitting up. The two of them quietly got up and got ready for the day, parting briefly to go to separate rooms.

Will stepped out, watching with some surprise as Venus and Benny talked at the island, and were actually being civil with one another. Charlotte was with his mom, eating quietly, and his dad was talking to Santi and Frankie over coffee. He took in the moment, sighing softly.

How do like me now? Yeah

How do you like me now?

Eventually, later on that morning, Venus and Will were in his neighborhood meeting with the realtor that had been working with his parents. The realtor was an older woman named Susan, who gave off mom vibes.

Susan had about 4 houses for Venus to look at. The first two were no’s due to the amount of work that they needed to be done for both of them. The third one was small and not in the best location. The fourth one was alright, not too terrible and was down two streets from his.

“This one has 3 beds, 2 baths. Open floor space for the kitchen and living room. And of course, a nice backyard for any little ones,” Susan said as she showed them the house.

Then one appeared to be the winner; an hour later she had signed all of the necessary documents and was given the key to her new home. By the time everything was said and done, it was late in the afternoon. Will had a small idea, and instead of driving out of the neighborhood, drove her to his place.

He parked the car, and led her inside telling her, “Figured you and I could have dinner together. Catch up. Have… have some alone time.”

She smiled brightly at that, nodding her head.

Now that I'm on my way

Do you still think I'm crazy

They spent the evening together, enjoying one another’s presence. That night they slept together, exploring each other’s bodies. Since they were alone, they could be as loud as they wanted to. They fell asleep in each other’s arm, content.

When they woke up, Venus felt oddly on edge. It took her a few minutes to fully realize why she felt strange.

“As much as I like this… can we head back to your parent’s? I’m not used to being away from Charlotte for so long,” Venus requested once she thought about it.

Will nodded, understanding, “I get it. Let’s get dressed and we can head back to the house.”

They do just that, and when they pull up to the house, and make their way up to the door, Will threw his arm around her shoulders, kissing her cheek.

They stepped inside, and immediately were ambushed by a small child who rapidly spoke about her day.

“Honey, you gotta slow down a bit there,” Venus laughed picking her up.

“Uncle Benny let me watch movies until midnight and we ate popcorn and candy. Uncle Santi and Frankie went to bed early, but they helped me build a blanket fort in the living room,” She repeated going slightly slower.

“Oh? Uncle Benny gave you sugar after 10pm? Oh no. That means my little gremlin will appear soon, doesn’t it?” Venus said somewhat joking but also with a hint of dread.

Charlotte had a tendency to have a sugar rush and crash, but she gets extremely grumpy when she is about to crash.

“Well. You are about to experience a potential temper tantrum,” She warned Will as Lottie wanted to go back to Benny, running.

“I’m sure I can handle it, doll. Dealt with these 3 children for the past 10 years. Trust me, nothing she does will compare to them,” Will said softly.

An hour into moving more furniture out, the dreaded crash began to take hold. Charlotte was refusing to do anything that she was asked. She would either ignore the person talking to her or she would stomp away. Venus sighed heavily as she walked after her, after Venus told her to go sit somewhere safe while the guys were lifting heavy furniture.

She finds her on the staircases, arms crossed, frowning, and staring at the floor.

“Lottie. C’mon. Let’s go sit somewhere,” Venus held out her hand for her to take.

Charlotte just shakes her head, pushing her hand away.

“Charlotte,” Venus said more firmly.

“NO!” Came her voice loudly.

Will, who was helping clear out a nearby room, heard the shout. Will walked toward the sound, spotting Venus standing there with her eyes closed as she tried to calm herself down. Venus knew it was because Charlotte was tired, but her refusing to listen to her was frustrating.

“Lottie. Can you come here sweetie?” Will asked squatting down.

Charlotte slowly walked over to him, frown still in place.

“What’s the matter? Hm? Are you tired?” Will questioned, his voice soft.

Lottie, after a moment, nodded.

“Then why don’t we go take a nap hm?” Will proposed, moving to pick her up.

“But I don’t wanna nap!” She said as she squirmed in his grip.

“Then how about we just lay down for a moment?” Will countered as they stepped into her room.

He laid her down, and even joined her on the tiny bed.

“Sweetie. You can’t be yelling at your mom, okay? She was just wanting to keep you safe. We are moving a lot of really heavy stuff. If we didn’t see you or if we lost our grip on something and you were nearby, it would really hurt you, okay?” His voice stayed soft as he spoke to her.

She nodded her head, “I’m sorry daddy.”

Will still wasn’t used to hearing her call him that. Hell, he doubted he ever will. Hearing her call him ‘dad/daddy’ made his heart swell with so much emotion.

“It’s not me you need to say that to,” He tells her.

Lottie yawned loudly, her eyes drifting she shut as she mumbled an ‘okay.’

He waited a few minutes, to make sure she was asleep, before standing up. He tucked her polka dot elephant in with her, before closing the door behind as he stepped out.

He made his way back to Venus who stared at him with wide eyes.

“Magic. You are magic. I’ve… I’ve never been able to get her to go down for a nap that easily when she’s upset,” Venus stated in disbelief.

“Told you. Dealt with grumpier children. And all 3 of them are my brothers,” Will said with a shrug.

A chorus of “hey’s” came from the other room, causing them to laugh.

Standing here today?

I couldn't make you love me

That had been about 5 months ago. In that time, Venus and Charlotte had moved into the new house and Will practically lived there. They had gone on several dates, some with Charlotte and some without.  On those dates, Grandma Winnie was more than happy to spoil her “favorite grandchild.”

When Will wasn’t with them, he was still doing his lectures and meets at the VA offices. Or working with Benny during his tournaments. It felt strange to say it, but Will found himself enjoying life more. It didn’t feel like a monotonous routine; it wasn’t boring anymore.

Will was currently on his way back from a tournament that Benny came in second place. Benny was bummed out and had planned to meet up with Santiago to go drinking. Will was tired, having been up since 3 am and wanting nothing more than to just collapse into a bed. He had planned on going to his home but found himself turning onto Venus’ street.

He pulled up to the house, parking with a heavy sigh. He got out of his car, walking up to the door and knocking twice. A minute passed and the door swung opened revealing Venus who was in just a silk nightgown.

“Hey, I heard about the tournament. How’s Benny doing?” She asked as she let him inside.

“Upset but that’s nothing new. He’ll be fine by morning. Is Lottie asleep?�� Will questioned noting how quiet the house was despite it being 8pm.

“Grandma Winnie decided she wanted to steal her for the night. Something about a Disney movie marathon? So… It’s just us,” She explained softly, biting her lip.

“Oh… is that so?” Will smirked as he slid his hands around her waist.

He swiftly picked her up and carried her to her room, wanting to take advantage of this time. Her giggles sounded down the hallway before turning into moans as they landed on her bed.

Despite the fact that they’ve been dating almost 5 months, they haven’t been able to do anything too salacious without something interrupting them.

Tonight, apparently would be no different. Will had just tossed off his shirt and was working her nightgown off when a phone rang. Will collapsed with a groan, Venus growling loudly in annoyance.

Venus reached over to grab her phone and answered it with a sigh, “Hello?”

“Hey honey, I am so sorry to interrupt but I wanted you to know that Charlotte is running a fever. I gave her some children’s Tylenol, but she keeps asking for you and Will. He wouldn’t happen to be there with you, would he?” Came Winnie’s worried voice.

“Shit. Yeah. He’s with me. We’ll be over in a little bit,” Venus replied sitting up with Will.

“No need. I am on my way already. She was very adamant that only your chicken noodle soup would help,” Winnie said with a weak laugh.

“Okay. We’ll be here,” Venus said as she hung up. “Lottie has a fever. Your mom is bringing her back.”

“Was she feeling bad when she left?” Will asked as he threw his shirt back on.

“She had said she felt like her nose was stuffed but I figured it was just allergies. She didn’t say anything else was wrong,” Venus answered, concern lacing her features.

“Well, we will make her some soup and go from there. C’mon,” Will nodded, kissing her cheek trying to assure her.

The two of them got up, and made their way into the kitchen, fixing themselves up as they moved. It didn’t take long for a knock to sound on the door. Will, leaving Venus to heat up soup, answered it.

“Hey ma,” He greeted before turning his attention to Lottie in her arms. “Hey lil bug. What’s wrong my sweet girl?”

He gently took her from his mother’s arms and held her close as she sniffled.

“Don’t feel good,” Charlotte whispered, her voice sounding scratchy.

“Ohno. Well. Momma’s making soup and then you are going to bed,” Will told her as he walked into the kitchen.

His mother came in and told Venus when she gave Charlotte medicine and symptoms and such. Once she was done with that, she made her way back home.

Charlotte quietly ate her soup when it was done, coughing once or twice. She finished about 20 minutes later before turning to Venus, holding her arms out to her. Venus, with a soft smile, picked her up and carried her to Lottie’s room, tucking her in softly.  

Will was waiting for Venus in her room when she stepped inside.

“You know she’s going to be in here in like 20 minutes, right?” Will joked as the both of them crawled under the covers.

“I know. Habit to just tuck her into her own bed. Plus, she might not, she was practically asleep when I laid her down,” Venus said as she laid down on her side, curling up to Will who was on his back.

Will hummed quietly in response as the two of them laid there in comfortable silence.

15 minutes later, Venus was asleep, and Will was almost there too when he felt a small tug on his side of the blanket. He looked down to see Charlotte quietly staring up at him. He leaned down slightly, picking her up and letting her crawl under the covers. She collapsed onto his chest, one arm firmly holding her polka dot elephant.

She was out in seconds, and as Will wrapped his other arm around her, he looked at the both of them. His beautiful daughter and the woman he was falling back in love with.

He never imagined this. He never thought he would have this: a family to call his own. He loved it far more than he would ever admit.

But I always dreamed about living in your radio

How do you like me now?

It has been a year since Venus re-entered his life with Charlotte. Since then, Will had moved into her house and sold his old place.

The three of them were currently getting ready to go out to dinner with the guys. It didn’t take very long for them to get dressed and on the road.

They arrived at the restaurant, joining the guys with smiles. Frankie had Isabella with him, who was giggling happily when she saw Charlotte. The two of them became fast friends and had play dates often.

Charlotte sat in Will’s lap and gently played with Isabella who was in a highchair. Venus and Will ordered their drinks before looking over the menu.

The guys chatted happily with them, ordering their meals as they talked.

Lottie gently tugged at Venus’s hand, quietly telling her she needed to go potty. Venus took Lottie to the bathroom, swiftly.

“So… when you going to propose to her?” Frankie asked casually as he took a sip of his beer.

“Soon. I got the ring earlier today,” Will said with a small smile.

“Real question is which one of us is going to be the best man?” Benny asked with a smirk.

“She’s gotta say yes, first, dumbass. Then I’ll decide which of you asses will be my best man,” Will laughed.

Charlotte popped up next to him a second later.

“Daddy. Mommy looks mad,” Charlotte tells him, looking over at her.

Will’s head whipped over to look at Venus who had been stopped by Andrew McIntosh, his hand gripping her arm tightly. Will sat Charlotte on Benny’s lap, muttering for her to stay there.

Will strolled over to them, his fists clenching.

“Andrew. Get your hands off of her,” Will commanded him, his rage brewing.

Venus held a hand up to him, gently telling him to stop.

Venus looked at Andrew and said, “Stop bothering me. Stop reporting to my mother. Leave me alone.”

Venus ripped his hand off of her arm. When Andrew tried to reach for her again, Venus threw a punch out at him, a sickening crack sounding as she broke his nose. Andrew groaned as he held his nose, blood oozing from it. Andrew glared at her, moving to go after her, but Will stepped in between them.

“You put your hands on her again and a broken nose will be the least of your concerns,” Will warned him.

Andrew huffed, walking away with a glare.

Will turned to her and checked her over really quickly.

“You okay?” He asked her, his eyes examining her arm.

“Yeah. I’m good. Been wanting to do that since we were 7,” Venus said with a laugh as they walked back over to the table.

Will shook his head, smirking.

Dinner went without any further incident and they made their way back home. Charlotte wanted to watch a movie, so Will put on Beauty and the Beast for her.

As she watched it, Will and Venus stood in the kitchen quietly talking.

“What did he say to you?” Will asked her.

“Same old bullshit. I’ve learned to not care about it anymore. I have you and Lottie. That’s all I want and need,” Venus answered with an eyeroll.

Will looked at her for a moment before reaching into his pocket, pulling out the small velvet box he had hidden in there.

He gently opened it, presenting the ring inside.

“I was planning on doing this more romantically but… I don’t want to wait any longer. I want to call the both of you mine. That is… if you’re up for that,” He began, hesitating.

Venus stared at him in surprise, not expecting this.

She gently pulled the ring out of its box, looking at it for a moment, before slipping it onto her left hand.

“Yeah. I’m up for that. Shall we go tell our daughter?” Venus asked smiling brightly.

“In a moment,” Will muttered pulling her in close, kissing her softly.

If someone had told him a few years ago that he would be proposing to the girl he was in love with from high school, he would’ve thought they were insane. However, he wouldn’t have traded this for the world. He had his daughter and the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Tell me, baby

I will preach on

[ssson-of-sparda]

Strawberry Sundae

Summary: It's story time! Have you ever wondered why Dante affectionate strawberry sundaes so much? Well Patty has and luckily for her, he is about to tell her. It will just cost her a small favour. A man got to pay his debts remember.

Tags: ANGST (but with some very cute moments) / Dante’s childhood /  childhood trauma 

Author’s note: This is my take on Dante’s origins and also my first time writing for the Devil May Cry fandom. I hope I did it right and that you will love it. Set whenever you want but definitely after the DMC Anime. I made the reader female (in case I write a sequel. I have ideas for one, just tell me if you want one), but it can definitely be read as Gen!Reader if you make some small changes.

           To most people Patty Lowell looked so cute and angelic with her girly lacy dresses and her silk ribbons in her baby blond hair they’d think butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. But to Dante, she was the most annoying brat that ever walked this earth and, even though he would never admit it, also one of his dearest friends. And like all his friends, he owed her big.             “I’ll erase that from your tab.” She said as she swallowed a spoonful of vanilla ice cream.   “Oh c’mon! You keeping counts now?” Dante harrumphed and watched the kid wipe her mouth like a very distinguished lady. “You spend too much time with Lady.”   “Not too much. Just enough to know you owe me a trip to the beach, two dresses, a dozen ice cream cones and six strawberries sundaes” She counted on her fingers and Dante sighed as he slouched in the fake-leather seat of Freddy’s diner. “Well, you can’t have it all now, can you?”       “You’ve been saying this for months. And for months you’ve been eating hundreds of sundaes and bought none for me.” She grumbled, staring at him with a pout as he nonchalantly took the strawberry on top of his sundae to eat it, eyes closed to savour the sweetness of the fruit in his mouth. “What’s with your obsession with strawberry sundaes anyway?” She asked, genuinely curious. After all, even after spending so much time with Dante, watching him evolve in his natural habitat (meaning the Devil May Cry) and coming to the conclusion that Dante was a very unique species of man, one that whose diet was only based on pizzas and strawberry sundaes and that knew nothing of women, Patty still hadn’t figured why he was the way he was.   Dante opened an eye to see her impatiently waiting for an answer. “If I tell you, would you consider erasing … let’s say six sundaes of my tab?” He smirked, knowing Patty would not resist the curiosity to know more about him.             “That could be arranged. But your story better be good!”

STRAWBERRY SUNDAE

                 One more step and this would be the furthest Dante had ever been from his house. Of course, he had dared follow Vergil down to that weird old man’s house to secretly spy on his brother, wondering what was so interesting and fun in keeping a wrinkly company but he had never stepped a foot in the city. Never could. The only time he had tried and had somehow managed to go down the hill of his red home without tumbling down the steep rocky stairs and lay even just a toe on the urban pavement he was now standing on, his father and his sharp demonic earring had found him and brought him back home with a firm grip around the collar of his white shirt. Sparda had scolded him so much that day that even Vergil hadn’t dared smirking.       But here he was. Wet, trembling and cold, under a pouring rain, wondering where to go, what to do, both feet on the pavement, his tiny arms holding on tight to his father’s sword which was way bigger than he was. He had never been so terrified, so alert, his blue eyes widened and scanning all his surroundings in every direction possible like a poor defenceless animal fearing for its life, wondering if a deadly predator was secretly watching him crouched in the thickest shadow, the same kind of predator that took his mother and brother away from him.                 He wanted to call for help, ask someone, anyone for guidance but he didn’t know whom to trust or if he could trust anyone. All he knew was that he had to be strong, that he had to be a big boy, a man. That’s what his mother had told him before leaving, before … A tear streamed down his childish face. Not the first one tonight. He wiped it with his sooty knuckle but a new one appeared, bigger and more painful. It stung his eye and he cried harder. A devil should not cry but he was so tired. And he wanted his mama. And he wanted his big brother. But they were gone and behind him, his house up the hill was just a pile of smoking ash and burnt bricks.            

“Why are you crying?” Dante jumped and his small yet strong grip grabbed a hold of Rebellion’s hilt. It took his eyes a short second to fall upon the face of a little girl holding a green frog-shaped umbrella above both their heads. “Are you lost?”  She said as she tried to catch a glimpse of Dante’s face hidden behind layers of soot and wet hair. “Is it a real sword?”         “Don’t touch it!” Dante growled, pressing his father’s sword tighter against his chest, shielding it from the curious child as she tried to put her fingers on the legendary weapon. It had seen Vergil do that countless of times. And though it never worked with him, it formidably worked with the child in front of him. “It’s my dad’s.”         “Is your dad a knight?” She questioned with amazed (colour) eyes, imagining heroes in shining armours resembling the ones in the stories her mother would read her before bed. “My dad is the Legendary Dark Knight.” Dante spat, scowling behind his silver hair falling over his eyes, a pitiful and vain attempt at sending the little girl packing. After all, to her eyes, he didn’t look impressive at all, more like a wet small kitten that someone had abandoned in the street.     She shrugged “My dad doesn’t have a sword and he is not a legendary dark prince or whatever but he has a mighty spatula and his strawberry sundaes are the best in the whole kingdom!” She exclaimed with an over-the-top enthusiasm that made Dante’s weary frown even more pronounced. “That’s the name of my father’s diner.” She pointed at the pinkish red neon sign across the street. Kingdom’s diner. “You’re hungry?” Dante thought he wasn’t until he heard a rumbling in his tummy. Yes, maybe he was even though his heart was preoccupied by other things than hunger. “Come on. Follow me.”         He hesitated for a few seconds, watching the girl cross the crowded street in her way-too-large yellow oilskin - which was probably not hers now that he thought about it – and feeling the rain pouring on his shivering body again. “Well? What are you waiting for?”           With one last look at his destroyed home up on the hill, Dante finally took a step towards the girl waiting for him by the warm neon lights of the diner. And he took another step, and another, feeling a weird weight forming in his stomach. A mix of apprehension and hope. Apprehension of what’s waiting in this unknown land and hope that his father would suddenly appear and bring him back home. But once more, Sparda never showed up and the child was left alone.   Dante had never ventured that far away from home but he had no home anymore, right?

                 The diner was warm and cosy, with red plastic booth seats and speckled grey linoleum-covered tables that were incredibly clean and shiny. On the walls there were vintage-like pictures of old cars, old advertisements and old Hollywood stars who were almost all complete strangers to Dante apart from a glamorous blond woman with a weird mole and another one with a tiara and a cigarette holder. Pretty sure he had seen them both in some boring movies he had seen – or slept through - with his mother and Vergil. Mama. Vergil. He missed them already. Terribly.

A new tear fell along his cold cheek and Dante looked down, devastated that he would never see them again; guilty that he could not save them, angry that his father had not been there to protect them. And with his wet sorrow came scorching flashes and piercing screams. But soon they were covered by the sound of weird music sizzling in a machine that looked like from another time. “I always listen to music when I feel bad. I like music. Do you like music?” She was impossibly chatty but deep down Dante knew it was only to take his mind off whatever she thought he was thinking about. After all, he would use the same trick on his brother. “There are a hundred of songs in this jukebox.” So that was this hellish machine was. A jukebox. “Pick one. I’ll make some strawberry sundae” She smiled and disappeared behind the counter which was way too high for Dante to see what she was doing. “Oh but don’t play the music too loud. My parents are sleeping upstairs.”  

He didn’t know how it worked but he thought that pushing a button would do the trick. And so he did. And he almost fell on his butt when the jukebox started shaking and doing weird sizzling noises. Had he just broken it? “I… I” He mumbled pointing at the machine and the girl’s childish head popped up from behind the counter a bit like a funny rabbit leaves his hole. “Kick it!” She said and Dante looked at her, harrumphed and unsure he had heard right. His mother never allowed him to kick anything … especially not Vergil … and he kicked Vergil a lot … because he deserved it.                 “There!” The girl approached and gave the dying machine a small yet firm kick that made it come back to life. “It does that sometimes.”

“What’s with all the racket?” A loud voice growled and a man with tousled and sparse black hair appeared from upstairs. Only wearing an old navy blue robe over a white t-shirt and a pair of checked slippers, he looked asleep and yet angry. “Y/N what are you doing … up?” His somewhat aggressiveness turned into confusion when he saw Dante standing next to his beloved daughter.  He blinked a couple times and shook his head to make sure he was perfectly awake and not dreaming. What was this boy doing in his restaurant? All wet and covered in soot? “Who are you?” He managed to voice.       Dante opened his mouth though unsure what to answer. “He’s my friend.” The girl replied. “Your friend?” She nodded vigorously. “I was making him a strawberry sundae.”

If there was two things Mister Y/LN had a soft spot for, it was food – sugary and greasy food – and his precious daughter Y/N. She was his little princess, his only daughter, the apple of his eye (even when there was sleep crust in its corner like right now). He could not refuse her anything and could not stay mad at her for more than a couple of minutes to the great disappointment of his wife.  And even though he knew it was wrong, he couldn’t help it.           “Y/N” He sighed and went to kneel in front of his daughter. “You cannot invite a little boy that late at night. I’m sure his parents must be very worried.” He glanced at Dante who looked down his brown boots hiding his eyes yet again behind his silver hair. What curious hair. “But since he is here, let’s eat those strawberry sundaes.” The little girl grinned and ran back to finish her creamy dessert with an enthusiasm that made the man smile for a small second.

Even though Mister Y/LN was weak for his daughter he was still a man of reason. Something deep in his guts was telling him something was wrong with that kid and the last thing he wanted was trouble. Who was he? Where did he come from? What happened to him? Where were his parents? Was he some kind of street kid? A child of drug dealers from the rough areas of Red Grave? Should he call the police? Maybe so. Certainly so. They would certainly know what to do. It was their job after all. He was just a cook, a sleepy cook. What could he do, except offering that scrawny kid a strawberry sundae? “Why don’t you sit, boy?” He waved at the stool and Dante climbed on it without saying a word. “I’ll be right back.”

“So what’s your name?” The little girl said as she placed two coupe glasses filled with cream, ice cream and strawberries right before Dante’s eyes that immediately ogled at the dessert with greediness. So much sugar, so much cream, so many strawberries. He loved chocolate, but this, this looked like even better than chocolate and his stomach seemed to agree.       Excited to taste it, he went to grab the spoon that was placed by the couple but was immediately stopped. “Wait. I’m not done.” Y/N shouted and, with a frown and the tip of her pink tongue out, cautiously topped both sundaes with a cherry and two pink wafers. “There. Now you can eat it.” She barely had time to finish the sentence that Dante quickly stuffed a generous spoonful in his tiny mouth. OH GOD! If his mother saw him right now eating so much sugar in the middle of the night she would be furious. But this was the most delicious thing in the world. After pizza of course.       He ate another spoonful, and another, humming after each, as he was slowly reaching a comforting sugary paradise. “I’m guessing you like it.” The little girl giggled, laughing at his mouth as round as a balloon and the cream running from the corner of his lips. Dante froze at the laugh and stare at her with a blush creeping up his inflated cheeks until he swallowed with a big gulp. “Yeah.” He confessed and Y/N smiled at the small amount of joy she caught in his childish voice.   “You still haven’t told me your name. I’m Y/N by the way.” She reached out to shake his hand and Dante stared at it for a few seconds, remembering what his mother had told him as she hid him a wardrobe.

You must change your name. Forget your past and start a new life as someone else. But who could he be? And could he be someone else? After all, he had always been Dante, the restless daredevil son of Sparda and Eva and annoying little brother to Vergil who always picked a fight for fun and found ways to be involved in new kinds of mischiefs.               There was a silence, heavy and pregnant, as the boy tried to answer the questions in his confused little head and as the girl patiently waited for him to talk. And only the lively music from the jukebox could be heard in the room. And it sang to Dante ‘Hey there Anthony boy. Why are you in such a rush (go!). The girl, she wanna talk to you. Look at him, how he blush (go!)’ giving birth to his new identity. A new beginning.               “I’m Anthony.” He finally grabbed her hand and she shook it with a smile that he tried to mimic. An effort he thought he would have never done tonight but that he did for her. Calm down, Tony me boy. “Tony for short.”         “Well nice to meet you, Tony. I’m sure we’re going to be good friends.”

And with a new spoonful of strawberry sundae he said goodbye to Dante. Hey there, Anthony boy!

***

“That was a lovely story, Dante. Sad but lovely.” Patty finally declared after being incredibly silent during Dante’s childhood story. A first. “Glad you liked it.” Dante said with a small smile that was barely concealing the sadness that this memory had brought back. “So does that mean those six sundaes are off my tab?”               “I guess so.” She shrugged as she drank the ice cream in her coupe. “Great.” He winked and stood up, throwing a bill on the table before putting his long red coat on.  “So … you love strawberry sundaes because they were the first things that gave you comfort after you lost your mom?”           “No, I love strawberry sundaes because they remind me why humans are sometimes worth fighting for.”

But mostly, he liked them because they reminded him of someone who had helped him build a new life, someone who had given him kindness, generosity and love when he thought that all he could expect from life was sorrow and pain. They reminded him of you.     Yes, that’s why he loved strawberry sundaes.

[regrettablewritings]

Animatic/Storyboard Music

Got bored/procrastinate-y on coloring in this ultra intricate card for my mom. So I’m just gonna make a list of songs I think make for good animatic material. Because why not/I wanna foist my musical tastes on people/ @locke-writes got me in a music binge. For the most part, it’s just gonna be me explaining the meanings or the vibe or what they generally tend to be used for, but really it’s mostly subjective so imaginate whatchu wanna.

“Trust Me” - The Devil’s Carnival Originally depicting a story about the Scorpion and the Frog, it’s the perfect song for when you want to depict the dynamic between a gullible or at the very least more grounded character and a figure whose intentions . . . may be less than pure. Or good for anyone, really.

“The Dismemberment Song” - The Blue Kid I have a playlist dedicated to songs whose content and sound are just . . . not married to one another, but got a weird flirtationship situation going on. Anyway, I’ve seen people say that they like to imagine it’s sung through the POV of a scorned housewife who’s finally Had Enough™️. And . . . They’re really not wrong for it. Really, though, it’s just the right song for when a sadist is just ready to gut a fucker but is disturbingly jolly about it.

“Love Me Dead” - Ludo Continuing with my trend of songs about people in less than ideal situations, “Love Me Dead” is straight to the point: The relationship is just awful and the guy gets nothing from it, but he can’t help but be hopelessly in a state of adoration for the woman he’s latched on to (“You’re born of a jackal! YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL!!”)

“Constellations” - The Oh Hellos There actually isn’t a plot to this song, it just feels really good (as all songs by The Oh Hellos are prone to be). However, if you feel a need to portray the concept of having to reorganize your thoughts after realizing that maybe they weren’t what you initially thought, and then coming to the conclusion that even though everything changes as a result, you’ll be alright? This is the song for you.

“A Kindling of Sorts” - The Oh Hellos An instrumental piece that is like . . . It’s related to another song of theirs about nationalism called “Torches”, so make of that what you will. (I personally have been using it to imagine storyboarding an opening for an animated The Witcher series.)

“The Other Side” - The Greatest Showman I know everyone and their mom has used this to portray situations like villains trying to get good guys to join their side. But I dun curr, it’s a fun song. That, and I like what Emilyamio did with her interpretation. It’s fun. For a basic rundown, know it’s another song about two characters’ dynamics being explored, with one coming to the other with a proposal that they join them in whatever endeavors they have in store. It’s often portrayed as something evil, but it really doesn’t have to be, as the original context was more about letting loose than anything.

“The Thief and the Moon” - Shawn James A much more mellow piece. Simple and straight to the point: A thief tells the Moon that he plans on stealing her light to shade the world in darkness. The Moon insists that the thief would only doom the world by doing so, to which the thief clarifies that he doesn’t care; if the world is shrouded in shadow, it means he will be able to steal with more ease (“My very existence is a race to attain wealth”). Disgusted, the Moon essentially curses the man with a warning that his greed can and will bring about his end -- and leave him to be forgotten by the rest of mankind, once it happens.

“Villainous Thing” - Shayfer James I’ve seen people say that this song is about singing to a cadaver but I can’t quite find anything confirming that (translation: I’m too lazy to look too into it). Regardless, it’s a fun ditty that yet again portrays someone with less than pure intentions encouraging someone to join him in some good old fashion villainy, as they’ve clearly endured their fair share of hardships and surely wanted to do evil anyway (“You’ll find no ever after here, it’s clear that isn’t what you came for“).

“Necromancin Dancin” - Bear Ghost Straight forward and fun as fuck: A necromancer apparently seems to cross classes and try his hand at barding by not only raising an army of the dead, but by also making them dance in order to make conquering the world easier. Because . . . a body doing Disco Duck isn’t scary, I guess.

"Aquaman” - Walk the Moon A song about one half of a couple wanting to become more involved in their relationship, but still having some nervousness about doing so. If you somehow haven’t heard this song yet, you gotta because it’s the cutest shit.

“Jenny’s Tale” - Ren I’ll be brutally honest, it’s about a woman named Jenny who just wants to get home after a long day of work and an unfortunate encounter with a 14 year old named Screech who gets way in over his head. As in, like, a death happens. That being said, I need. Like. An animated music video of this song. I imagine this shit in gritty charcoal or painted on glass, it just needs this. Somebody who isn’t me who knows what they’re doing, please look into this.

“The Curse of the Fold” - Shawn James As cheesy as it sounds, it basically boils down to not giving up or yielding. But what makes it so cool is the fact that Shawn James makes all his songs basically sound like a western gothic soundtrack. Which helps, because he admits that the title is also a reference to poker, in which giving up too often or too easily can often rob you of a delicious reward gained through perseverance and sacrifice.

“Thank God I’m Not You” - Himalayas I prefer to imagine this for an arrogant asshole of a character. Because that’s exactly what this song is about: They’re a liar and a thief, they’ve been called the son of Satan, and yet they consider themselves lucky -- ‘cause at least they ain’t you! If you have a character in mind who’s a delightful, punchable little shit, this is probably either their anthem or at least on the playlist you inevitably made for them.

"Passerine" - The Oh Hellos So there’s a common trend in The Oh Hellos’ discography that tends to explore the two founders’ experiences with faith and their growth in how they understand it or recognize it. With “Passerine”, the concept being explored is the experience they had when it came to taking a step back and realizing just how many of their supposed “fellow Christians” were actually doing some rather unchristian things, so to speak. When they “prune[d] their feathers”, it became clear that they had less in common with certain people proclaiming to be Christian while also spouting bigotry and greed. However, the desire to move away from such influences comes with the feeling of being torn, as moving too far away from the Bible leaves the singer feeling as though she is betraying something she holds dear. As a result, “Passerine” symbolizes not a breakage from faith, but a breakage from blind faith as they understood it, and the inevitable feeling of being torn that comes along with expanding upon how one views their beliefs and those around them. It’s therefore not uncommon to see Good Omens animatics using this song. (Something I also noticed is that throughout the song, you hear pieces of “Constellations”. TOH have a tendency to reference previous pieces, and considering “Constellations” is a song about changing perspective and the meanings we apply to them, it fits in beautifully with a song about reevaluating one’s stance.)

“Like the Dawn” - The Oh Hellos As stated before, a lot of TOH’s discography draws inspiration from their faith. In this case, it’s an outright retelling of the Garden of Eden, specifically when Adam awoke to find Eve had been created. What makes this iteration stand out to most, however, is that the singer is female, which seems to change the vibe you get. It sweetens the feeling of wonder we often forget the first man might’ve felt upon seeing somebody made for him, creating an air of beauty yet comfort with such lines as “And like the dawn, you broke the dark and my whole earth shook” or “You were the brightest shade of sun I had ever seen.” Even without the awareness or an interest in religious influences, it still manages to be a very feel-good song -- which is the mark of an overall good song in general!

“Confession” - RED Dealing with the constant battle of feeling ashamed that how you feel on the inside isn’t in sync with how you present yourself on the outside. That you should feel bad for smiling out at the world while screaming and thrashing -- like it’s a lie. But you can’t help it: It’s what you’re accustomed to. Though it does end on a hopeful note with the singer deciding that they want to reach out for help and rid themselves of this feeling of pain they have inside.

“When I Grow Up” - Matilda . . . Only if you want to cry. Seriously. When you’re a kid, everything seems difficult but you’re positive that once you grow up, everything will change: You’ll be tall enough to climb the trees you were too small to, you’ll be able to carry everything because you’re stronger, you’ll be brave enough to fight the monsters hiding in your room, you’ll finally have all the answers. . . . But life isn’t that simple. We wish it were, but it isn’t. There’s this bittersweetness about this song, about a sense of purity we unfortunately grow out of where we think things will be just the same enough for us to do what we want when we want, but things are more complicated than that. We still struggle to reach, to bear the weight, to not be afraid, to have even a fraction of the answers. But! We’re reminded that just because we’re told life isn’t fair, doesn’t mean we have to take it. After all, nothing changes when nothing happens. And even beyond that? It helps to remember that we’re never quite done growing up; there’s always more to learn, so remember to be patient with yourself.

“Hand Me My Shovel, I’m Going In!” - Will Wood and the Tapeworms This is . . . a song. The lyrics are honestly kinda all over the place and shooting rapid fire, making it a bit difficult to discern what exactly the singer is going on about. It makes for a pretty crazy song that suggests somebody’s going unhinged, which is apparently precisely the intention?? I’ve seen a lot of people interpret this as a song about a guy who is already at a low point in his life but nonetheless is going, “. . . I bet I can go deeper. Hand me my shovel.”

“No Reason” - Beetlejuice God if i had a youtube channel the segment i would spend on this song would be so juicy just ripe and thicc with thoughts and feelings i tell ya rich like a fresh fatty peach the apple that tempted Eve and gagged Adam yes ‘Nother song that explores the dynamic between two differing people and their worldviews. At its simplest, “No Reason” is about two opposite ends of a spectrum coming to a head: Idealistic and hippie-dippy Delia is convinced that everything happens for a reason, while cynical and depressed Lydia asserts that everything happens at random and it doesn’t matter anyway because we’re all going to die. And even though the delivery is ultimately a comedic one, you get more insight as to why one another feels the way that they do: Lydia, as we’ve previously learned, has recently lost her mother to an illness, which has left her depressed and feeling invisible (a theme in the show); whereas Delia’s failed marriage and desperate attempts to nonetheless be happy have left her dependent on the idea that these things had to have happened for a reason, otherwise, her pain would’ve been for nothing. What’s important is that neither side is actually appointed as the winner, with the song ultimately ending that the universe is random for a reason.

“Barbara 2.0″ - Beetlejuice Without spoiling anything (or at least too much), “Barbara 2.0″ is about growth. It’s about learning to put your foot down after a literal lifetime of being passive out of fear of what might happen and just accepting that nothing will happen if nothing happens -- but that doesn’t make whatever happens good.

“Bleed Magic” - IDHKBTFM It’s either about a killer or a vampire. No, seriously: When Dallon Weekes was asked about what the story of the song was, that was his answer. I personally prefer to think of it as a vampire or demon of some kind, given that the song came out around Halloween. Perfect for yet another example of somebody (likely supernatural) having an upper hand on an unsuspecting mortal. ...I have way too many of these on this list, I swear I don’t have a problem —

“Feel Good Drag” - Anberlin A toxic relationship of sorts. In that it shouldn’t be a relationship to begin with. Depicts the singer being approached by an ex, who seeks a one-night stand while her current boyfriend is out of town. However, the singer is aware that trying to continue anything regardless of the situation is a moot point: Even when they were together, their relationship was doomed from the start, and nothing about that is going to change -- especially now.

“Soviet Trumpeter” - Katzenjammer (It’s kinda difficult to work with this one but I’ve seen people work with less or stranger.) Based off the life of one Eddie Rosner, a Jewish Polish trumpeter whose fame within the USSR unfortunately faded due to the Soviet Union’s heavy censorship. Even if nothing is to be done with it, it still paints a melancholic picture of a talented man’s skills being largely unknown as a result of things beyond his control. All wrapped up in a song that denotes a strange deterioration in a way I can’t quite place.

“Apple Blossom” - The White Stripes On its face, it’s a very sweet song: The singer encourages his beloved to be vulnerable enough with him to tell him her troubles and to let him “sort them out for [her]”. She’s clearly saddened, and seeing so distresses him to where he insists that he will do whatever he can to make her happy. However, the tone of the song and certain lines make it easy to twist into yet another song of a character attempting to seduce somebody into a state of vulnerability . . .

“You’ve Got Possibilities” - It’s a Bird, It’s a Plane, It’s Superman The one singular song people actually liked from this forgotten musical. Perfect for when somebody intends on giving somebody else a makeover. Y’know, after totally roasting them on their posture and clothing. If you want to add a lil something extra, know that the context is that a lady wants to give Clark Kent a makeover, insisting that in spite of his schlubby appearance, there’s gotta be something underneath. I repeat: She is telling this to Clark freaking Kent.

 “Still” - Anastasia In the context, the show’s antagonist (not bad guy, there’s a difference) finds himself torn between obligation and personal interest: Does he fulfill his duty and live up to expectations set upon him by his father and the society he’s been selected to help uphold? Or does he let a woman he has become fond of go? Is she truly as innocent as she claims? Or is she well aware of what she’s doing? And every time he thinks he’s reached a conclusion, he can’t help but thing, “But still . . .” Good for when you want to portray a character conflicted between obligations of politics and what their heart wants.

“Two Nobodies in New York” - [title of show] Two young men plan on entering an upcoming theatrical festival but struggle with what to even submit. This song in particular focuses on them trying to figure out what to even write, the concept of fame, and if wanting the certain things that may come with fame can mean anything from being sell-outs to getting a sitcom. It’s admittedly specific, but it’s a cute and funny interaction between two guys who are, for the most part, actually in sync with their thoughts and anxieties. For the time being.

“Into the Unknown” - Idina Menzel Look, I refuse to watch that movie. I just do. But I will take this song over That Other One any day. Mostly because I personally like to imagine that the singer in this song is about to embark on a Pixaresque journey after accidentally leaving her home during the night of The Wild Hunt, accidentally separating her spirit from her body and thus giving her a very limited time to get back to it before she remains a soul trapped in a whirlwind of ghosts forever. But first: Let’s sing about that strange howling that coaxes her so.

“You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid” - The Offspring I sure do long songs that can characterize a shithead . . . Anywho! The smoothest way to go is just to portray some cocky, manipulative shit who’s used to just lying and cheating their way to get what they want before slipping away without any consequences -- to a point. There’s the option of portraying the betrayer’s comeuppance, but there’s also the frustratingly delicious option of just letting them get away with whatever to lie another day.

“Why Should I Worry” - Billy Joel When in doubt, go to earlier Disney. Because like it or not, they had some bops. And when in the need of portraying a happy-go-lucky (probably idiotic) doofus and his more neurotic or cynical friend going about their life with the former just Mr. Magooing it while the latter suffers more realistic consequences? You go with this song. If you want. That’s just me.

“Transformation” - Brother Bear For when you want to invoke a mystical or otherworldly feeling. There’s really not much more I can say except to encourage you to listen to it and watch the scene if you can find it. You’ll get the vibe.

“No Girl’s Toy” - Raggedy Ann and Andy: A Musical Adventure It’s a big shame this movie is relatively unknown and never got a proper VHS release or anything -- mainly because the music in this cult classic is definitely stuff I could see becoming standards. I could see people performing “I Never Get Enough” for little shows, or recycling “Blue” for a different show. Thankfully, somebody was able to upload a clear enough sounding recording of “No Girl’s Toy”, so at least we have that. In context (just...follow me on this), Raggedy Ann’s brother, Raggedy Andy, has had enough of being subjected to “girly things” while in the nursery. Additionally, though, the way the song was written means it can also be interpreted as just a guy who refuses to let himself be yanked around regardless of how thick the sugar being laid on him is. . . . If you wanna poke fun as a character for trying to appear tougher than what he is, here’s the song. (That being said, Andy is a sweetheart at the end of the day. No amount of tough-fronting will hide that.)

“I Enjoy Being a Girl” - Flower Drum Song (It is by sheer coincidence that this song follows the above.) Really, it’s exactly what it says on the tin: The singer enjoys being a girl and what all it entails for her. She loves her feminine form, she loves the attention she gets, she loves dolling herself up, she loves frilly dresses, and she hopes to one day marry a guy who enjoys “having a girl like [her].” And honestly? Good on her! Love whatcha love, lovely! Seriously, though, it’s a cute song for anyone who just wants to indulge in some girliness.

“Chip on My Shoulder” - Legally Blonde Come on: It’s Legally Blonde. You know what this bop is, or at least have an idea of it. But since I love this song, I’ll indulge: Disheartened by her failure to both win back her ex and succeed in the fast-paced environment of Harvard, the normally bright-eyed Elle is ready to call it quits. That is, until junior partner Emmett gets involved. Unimpressed by her story, Emmett reveals that he got to where he was by busting his ass due to having a chip on his shoulder from his rough beginnings — and maybe a chip on the shoulder is exactly what Elle needs to survive. And as somebody driven by spite, I can appreciate that kind of message. Anywho, it all in all is a song about growth and learning how to be “driven as hell” to keep up with an opportunity that may not be easy to take, but is not one to be passed by.

“What Do I Need with Love?” - Thoroughly Modern Millie “What Do I Need with Love?” asks exactly that: He could date a different girl every night of the week if he so wanted, and never once had any desire to go steady before. He considers himself lucky to have never fallen for anyone -- until now. Which he’s not! He’s not in love. ...He totally is and, by his own admission, he’s got it bad it’s terribly adorable.

“Interlude IV” - Zach Callison The entire album is actually a narrative about a failed relationship of Callison’s and I’m sure the other songs are just as great fuel for animatics -- I’m just too caught up on listening to this one over and over. Sometimes, we just wanna listen to Steven Universe cuss and be openly furious. Seriously, though, even without the context of the rest of the story, you get the idea well enough: A spiteful Zach decides to get back at the one that broke his heart in such a painful way, whereas a well-meaning friend insists they just leave it be and move on. While this technically would be the better and healthier option, Zach is just too far gone with rage to let it go and decides to take care of things by himself.

“Evermore” - Beauty & the Beast Look, I know the remake wasn’t anything crazy. But also I don’t honestly care too terribly much. Besides, this song was nice and it really gets me after that key change. We all want a royal doofus to be enamored enough with us to let us go for our own happiness but still know that their life will forever be changed because they met us. Animate that shit. Over and over.

goddamn this list is long lemme just stop this now byyyyeeeee

[xdandelionxbloomx]

Modern AU Idea continued

(part 1)

Jaskier returned to social media slowly - 

He started trickling in posts, snippets of song ideas, some random thoughts mostly on Instagram and his Insta stories-- 

And then came pictures-- 

The sunset over the mountains behind Kaer Morhen Ranch was first - gold, orange, burgundy, and indigo shades blending into something he told Geralt that Bob Ross would’ve liked to paint--

Geralt had snorted at that comment, but Jaskier could tell that he was secretly pleased - was happy that Jaskier enjoyed being with him on the ranch--

Another picture - blurry, with a caption-- 

Geralt took this photo and it’s kind of blurry, but nicely artsy, wouldn’t you say? 

It was Jaskier, from his nose down, hands plucking at the acoustic guitar, unfocused and grainy in what little evening light crept through their dining room windows--

Jaskier didn’t tell Geralt that he planned to use it for his new single cover.

Another--

Geralt crouched in front of a little girl whose face was obscured by the man himself as he helped her adjust her riding helmet, his cowboy hat tipped a little crooked - the kids never wanted to wear their helmets if Geralt didn’t wear one and he, too, hated them so he’d taken to the hat which in the past had only cemented his nickname-- 

What are the kids calling it these days? Cowboycore?

All hell broke loose over that photo - from people observing how good Geralt looked in his worn jeans (which Jaskier could appreciate as well because it was true) to people hounding Jaskier about cowboycore and--

Doesn’t cowboycore have gay connotations? 

Jaskier replied - That one Ariana Grande gif. And what about it?

The internet promptly lost their collective mind-- 

Wait, wait, is that who Honey Gold was about? Someone tweeted him. 

That song was five years old and so he didn’t reply-- 

He wasn’t sure he was ready to share just how long it had been yet. 

Jaskier had a plan brewing, but Geralt would have to be willing to be on camera for a significant chunk of it, be willing to really be a part of Jaskier’s art-- 

He wasn’t sure Geralt was ready and so he didn’t propose it for a while yet, working instead on the single that had taken up a significant part of his brain - an ear worm he couldn’t get rid of that made him tap his fingers on whatever surface was closest if he didn’t have his guitar around. 

He shared a photo of a sunset, Geralt leaned up against the fence of the solitary paddock where Roach was housed for the moment while he worked with her-- 

That horse might have the spirit of a devil, but at least she loves Geralt. As she should. 

He couldn’t count the number of comments demanding a name for the little chestnut mare and so the next day he ended up out at the paddock as Geralt lunged the horse without a rope, sending her in circles around the paddock as he stood in the center of it-- 

Jaskier takes a short video as she passes by-- 

In the midday sun, her scars were more visible and he hesitated to post it before he settled on captioning the video-- 

This is Roach. Geralt adopted her through a rescue. Her last owners called her a cockroach from what I’ve heard, but the rescue called her Roachie. Geralt insists that Roach has more dignity. 

Jaskier ended up showing Geralt the comments because they were just so--

Sweet. 

A few people shared their own stories about their rescue horses and Geralt had been annoyed by the phone being shoved in his face every few minutes at first, but by the end of the day Jaskier knew he was secretly pleased because even though he’d roll his eyes when Jaskier pushed the phone towards him over dinner, Geralt would read the comment he pointed out--

And his lips would twitch up at the corners-- 

Half of Jaskier’s Instagram became dedicated to Geralt and Roach, just random pictures that he snapped-- 

The other half tended to be short videos of him messing around on the guitar, or voice updates, or photos of hands-- 

Then suddenly a couple of weeks where he wasn’t very active--

Those couple of weeks had been hard because he’d finished writing the single entirely, but he’d started on that other project and kept working himself up to ask Geralt about it, but how did one even do that? 

How could he possibly--

And then one night Jaskier got out of the shower to find Geralt reading a book on the couch. It wasn’t necessarily unusual - Geralt preferred books to television, but there was something so warm about it that night, something that made his chest ache. 

With damp hair he’d made his way over to the couch where he climbed up onto it, curling up against Geralt’s side, nuzzling against him. The other man grunted at the feeling of his wet hair, but didn’t complain, shifting his hold-- 

He kept the book open with one hand and wrapped his other arm around Jaskier, turning his head briefly to press a kiss to the crown of his head. 

“What are you reading?” Jaskier had asked, voice small in the space between them. It didn’t have to be big here. There wasn’t an audience. Just Geralt. 

“Poetry.” Geralt answered and Jaskier hummed a soft note. 

“Read some?” He rasped, softly, and closed his eyes, settling in. 

Geralt did, of course, because despite all his eye rolling he was kind and soft and always had been-- 

And the words he read gripped Jaskier, cemented the whole swirling picture into something linear, and he fell asleep against Geralt thinking about it, listening to his gruff voice-- 

Four days later he posted a picture of his notebook with a simply smiley as a caption-- 

They didn’t need to know that he and Geralt had discussed in length what the project would mean, what it would entail - didn’t need to know that Geralt asked for time to think, that Jaskier had taken it as a no at first and instead turned his attention to perfecting the mixing on the single he planned to release very soon - didn’t need to know that Geralt came to him on the fourth morning and told Jaskier that he’d do it, only if Jaskier promised he didn’t have to fly to New York or wear makeup-- 

Jaskier had kissed him, had taken him to bed, had told him in the proper words, told Geralt he was going to hear it on the project anyways-- 

Geralt hadn’t said it back yet, but the look on his face told Jaskier all he needed to know-- 

The picture of his notebook had far too many comments to even begin to reply to - excitement over new music, people telling him to make sure he felt well before returning, people trying to decipher his handwriting, and then there was the tiny section of people who had started a hashtag. 

#Roachupdate - 

Please can we get a picture of Roach? 

How is Roach doing?

Has Roach let you pet her yet?

So Jaskier caved and posted another photo of Roach - it was significantly closer than all his other photos as Jaskier could stand at the fence now without the devil mare losing her mind. 

She’s doing good. She loves Geralt to death, but doesn’t let anyone else touch her. Still can’t be lose with other horses but we’ve been able to have them separated by the fence without her trying to snap at them through it. #Roachupdate

And thus Saturdays became designated Roach Update days, though if someone caught him at a good time on Twitter, he might just tweet a photo of her because he could. 

About the time his new single - his ballad about a cowboy who went grey early, who liked his coffee with milk and sugar on good mornings, who had warm hands - came out, he posted a photo of his hand on Roach’s muzzle. 

She may be a devil, but she’s our devil. #Roachupdate 

His single picked up steam in a way he hadn’t expected it to and suddenly there were eyes on him again and-- 

It was a lot. He’d forgotten how life could be in the spotlight-- 

And he worried, he worried about his voice, about-- 

But the night Geralt read him that poem, voice low, would come back to him and he’d take a deep breath and smile-- 

Because he could do this again. 

He wanted to do this again. Wanted to share with the world his story. 

Most of all, he supposed, he wanted to share their story, with Geralt beside him, tell the world about it, about him, about the amazing man-- 

And so on a rainy Saturday morning, Jaskier posted a photo-- 

Roach had a simple brown halter on, rope hooked to it, and Jaskier held the rope, smiling just a little as he looked at her-- 

The photo was Geralt’s phone background because of course Geralt would do that, would make Jaskier’s chest feel too tight in the best way every time he opened his phone up to find something--

But he captioned the photo--

Roach might actually like me now. Geralt rode her the other day with a bareback pad so I’d say that it’s significant progress. Oh, and I started working on my new visual album. #Roachupdate

Safe to say that his fans erupted into chaos.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #455

“but you didn’t have to cut me off  /  make it like it never happened and that we were nothing”

Are you and the last person you kissed in a relationship or just friends? We're besties! :') Has anyone ever pointed out that your laugh was unusual? No. Would you get a lip piercing? I already have a vertical labret. I've considered getting spiked snakebites (they might be called devil bites?) too, though. With a vertical labret, it looks sick as FUCK. It might be a bit much too close together for me, though, idk. Nose piercing? I want my right nostril re-pierced. What are you currently waiting for? Girt to message me back. I've decided what I want out of our relationship and just want to see him. Do you have feelings for anyone? Hit me pretty hard through a lot of examination of my feelings that yeah, I do. Have you ever run over an animal? Oh my god no, I would be DESTROYED. Have you chewed gum after someone else already has? bro what the fuck When people sneeze do you say ‘bless you’? I do only out of expectation. I don't want someone to think I'm an ass or something for not saying it. When was the last time you were on a bouncy castle? A few years ago for my niece's birthday. She was scared of how loud it was and was very reluctant to get near it, so my fat ass got in there with everyone else to show her it was fine lol. I can't remember if she eventually got in. She loves them now, though. :') Have you ever went on a bouncy castle whilst drunk? No, but thanks for the idea, ha ha. Have you ever entered an art competition? Yes. What is one thing you will never do? Try hardcore drugs. What is one food that you detest? Asparagus. Did you have a rebellious phase growing up? Not really. What religion were you brought up with? Roman Catholic. Are you still that religion? GOD NO. Do you often find yourself questioning your future? That's my full-time job. How many friends do you have on Facebook? 124. What sort of music did you listen to when you were in high school? The same I listen to now. What pet names do you use with your significant other? I'm single rn, but usually, I go for "sweetie/sweetheart," "hunny," "love," "dear," stuff like that. What’s the name of the store you usually get your groceries? Wal-Mart. Have you ever seen a theatre show? Yes. What’s your favourite vegetable? Broccoli. Have you ever missed a flight? Yes. I was SO fuckin upset because it was on Sara's birthday and planned in secret, and I was supposed to wake her up. It still wound up being a big surprise to her when she walked into her room and I was chillin' at her desk, ha ha, but I still wish it coulda gone as originally planned. Do your neighbours have any pets? Have you ever met them? Yes; they have a yappy-ass dog that doesn't shut up. I haven't met them. What color is your bedroom door? White. If you were ever to become famous, would you grow annoyed at fans? This may sound very ungrateful, but I have heard A LOT of celebrities say it: it would get old, being stopped constantly in public for signatures, pictures, etc. Like yes, I still WOULD be grateful, but I'd miss just being off the radar and able to go outside carrying out chores and stuff like a normal person. Have you ever met your favourite band/singer? No. :( Are you embarrassed by any of the songs/singers/bands you like? Nah, not nowadays. Have you ever written a story? Yes, a kinda short one when I was little. Think of the last poem you wrote: What inspired you to write it? The breakup with Jason and the fact we're just strangers again. It was really short, but I like it a lot, honestly. Do you have a chance with the person you like right now? I think so. What’s the weirdest thing you were scared of as a child? A skeleton in my closet, lol. Literally. Are there any embarrassing stories your family tells about you? alkdsjflakjwle yes In your opinion, what is the funniest TV show? That '70s Show. 3rd Rock From the Sun is high up there, too. What is the maximum number of children you’d ever have? HYPOTHETICALLY, two, but I'm pretty damn serious about having none. I just always feel kinda bad for children without a sibling, but three would make me pull my hair out. Have you ever been concerned you had a serious illness? Yes. I overreact to even minor symptoms to ANYTHING. Are you comfortable with who you are? No. Pretty much everything about myself embarrasses me, even if it shouldn't. Would you date someone even if you knew you’d get made fun of for it? Yes? Others' opinions don't affect how I feel about someone. Does popularity matter to you at all? No, outside of trying to be a successful photographer. Would you ever consider homeschooling your children? If they really wanted that and it would benefit them, yes. Who told you about the band/singer you are currently listening to? I discovered them myself. Do you ever read fanfiction? Nah. Would you rather die in a plane crash, ship wreck or fire? Jesus. A plane crash, I guess, because in a lot of cases, it would be an immediate death. What are your top five favourite TV shows? Meerkat Manor, Fullmetal Alchemist (and Brotherhood; shut up, they go together), That '70s Show, Ginga Densetsu Weed, and Deadman Wonderland. What is your favorite superhero movie? Logan. If you died next week, what would be the cause of death? Uhhhh idk... I guess maybe a heart attack? Judging by doctor appointments, my heart is just fine, but the fact still remains that I'm technically obese, so that's always a risk. Have you ever taken a break from Facebook or other social media? Why? Facebook, yes. It was just depressing me. I was playing the comparison game REAL hard. Who is the most talented person you know? I dunno. I know many people talented in a lot of areas. Are you currently platonic friends with anyone you’ve had sex with? No. Where did you and your current interest go on your first date? Bowling. Have you ever experienced two people fighting over you (physically or mentally)? What happened? Jason and Juan pursued me at the same time. They'd known each other in the past, and Juan hated him for "winning" his ex-girlfriend. Then when Jason and I got together, Juan wasn't the happiest for sure. Have your parents ever thought you were gay? What happened? Before I actually came out as bisexual, I don't think so? Are your parents more liberal or conservative? Conservative. Mom is more open, but still conservative. I think. What year are you going into at the beginning of the next academic year? I'm not in school. How far away does your closest family member live? I live with Mom. If you’ve seen both, did you prefer the Disney version or the Tim Burton version of Alice in Wonderland? I actually strongly prefer Tim Burton's. Would you have sex before marriage? Why or why not? Yeah. I just want to be in a long-term, serious, healthy relationship to reach that point and be as safe as possible about it. Are you more liberal or conservative? Liberal, but I do have some conservative beliefs, too. Who is your favorite Harry Potter character? I don't have one, given I never got into that franchise. What’s the worst that could come out of letting gays marry? Not a goddamn thing. What’s the most sexual thing you’ve done? Done "the thing." Name something that you are against. I'll go with an unconventional one that's a problem as of the late: making owning reptiles illegal. Why are you against it? Because reptiles are perfectly capable of being brilliant pets and, most importantly, can tame people's fears of them. I think that it's very important to see the worth and beauty in all animals, and reptiles are one of the most unappreciated families out there. :/ Have you ever played the Tomb Raider games? I played some of either the first or second one. I could never beat it. Old games are hard, man. Do you like it or hate it when your partner is clingy? I absolutely believe that it can get to an extreme that I don't like, but for the most part, I don't mind a clingy partner because hey, I am too. Beatles or Rolling Stones? Stonessss. When was the last time you changed your opinion on somebody? It'd been on my mind for a while, but I *officially* realized that I really do like-like Girt a couple days ago. And since then it's gotten a bit hardcore and all I wanna do is talk to him bc fuck me and how attached to people I get. What was the last thing that made you feel proud and why? Every single time I go to the gym, I feel proud of myself because it REALLY takes a lot out of me. Do you feel uncomfortable when people you hardly know confide in you? Nope. I'm willing to be a shoulder to cry on for like... anyone. If you're hurting, talk to someone. I'll be there as an easy option. What was the last thing to fascinate you? It was... INCREDIBLY disturbing and almost nauseating even for me, but I saw a video of a dead whale explode. It was GRUESOME. Guts just kept coming and coming and coming and :x Is there a certain noise/sound which scares you? Hmmm... I'm sure there is, but what, it's not coming to me. Sudden, loud noises are an obvious answer. Do you have a favourite microorganism? ... No, I can't say I do. Out of the people you know, whose birthday is next? Girt's, actually. It's in October. If you have pet fish do you bother to name them? I did when I actually had them as a kid. Do you keep your eggs in the fridge? Ye. Have you ever owned chickens? No, but that'd be cool. Fresh eggs from a properly cared for chicken taste SO much better. When did you last listen to music? Currently. NOW I'm obsessed with Melodicka Bros & Violet Orlandi's cover of "Somebody That I Used to Know." It's done in a gothic metal style and is amaaaazing.

[calumcest]

dancing with the demons (holy spirit, holy spirit)

[ao3]

yes its 1am yes i just finished this fic yes i am exhausted yes i currently have an exam i should be doing looks like Helen’s Deadline Season Coping Mechanism is back in full swing 

i have to give my everlasting thanks to @ashesonthefloor and @clumsyclifford for their chaotic minds providing me excellent ideas and for always being so supportive of the things i write and motivating me to keep writing and also especially to ainslee for patiently listening to me talk about this for like the past three weeks before i could actually write it 

also this VERY very loosely based on christianity but as you will see: VERY. VERY. loosely 

-

“You’re kind of a shitty demon,” he tells Calum, who scowls.

“Fuck you,” he says. “You’re kind of a shitty angel.”

“Oh, dude, I know,” Michael agrees.

-

Humans, Michael thinks sourly, wouldn’t be nearly as interested in getting to Heaven if they knew Ashton were in there. 

He means well, Michael knows that, and he’s just doing his job, but that doesn’t make it any less irritating when Michael gets Summoned twice a week to answer for whatever petty crime he’s committed this time. So sue him, he forgot witchcraft was sacrilege, and forgot that astrology falls under that umbrella, and he’d been amused when he’d seen a lady claiming to be able to tell him what was in store for him next year, and he’d had ten dollars on him. He’s thousands of years old, how the fuck is he supposed to remember every tiny rule? Plus, he thinks, cocking his head, she’d told him that a colleague would present difficulties for him, and the way Ashton’s ranting right now is just vindicating the poor woman.

“...set an example, Michael,” Ashton’s saying, when Michael tunes back in. “You were an archangel. You have to be better.” Michael rolls his eyes. 

“Ashton, I swear to God-” Ashton slaps his hand down on the table. 

“That’s exactly your fucking problem!” he says furiously, and then tenses as he realises what he’s said. Michael can feel the repentance washing over Ashton, the genuine purity of it, and it makes him wince a little bit. Ashton clears his throat, and tries again. “You can’t be blaspheming like that. You’re an angel, Michael. You have free will, and you know what a double-edged sword that is.” Michael folds his arms, wings ruffling defensively. Ashton’s always so fucking hot on how dangerous free will is, like he’s had some kind of bad experience with it, and Michael doesn’t get it. Ashton’s never stepped more than a centimetre out of line in his entire life. 

“I’m loyal to Him,” he says firmly. “He knows that.” Are you questioning Him? remains unspoken, but rings loud in the air between them.  

“I know,” Ashton says wearily. “But He did demote you. Again.” 

“I mean, I did give the Son an onion disguised as an apple,” Michael points out. Ashton glares at him. 

“Are you trying to make this worse for yourself?” he demands, and Michael holds his hands up in defence. 

“Not my fault Jesus doesn’t have a sense of humour,” he mutters, under his breath so Ashton can pretend not to have heard it. He still thinks it was hilarious, made even more so by the connotation of original sin. Maybe the fact he hasn’t repented is why He keeps letting Michael get reamed out by Ashton for the smallest fucking things. 

“You’re lucky He didn’t count that as a rebellion” Ashton tells him. Michael rolls his eyes. 

“What the fuck do you want me to say, Ash?” he says, spreading his hands, ignoring the way Ashton flinches at the curse word. “I’m sorry? I repent? Forgive me Ashton, for I have sinned?” Ashton sighs, but chooses not to comment on the sarcasm. 

“I’m assigning you another case,” he says instead, “and you’d better not mess this one up.” Michael groans, and Ashton gives him a sharp look. “You’re always free to leave, Michael. You know that.” Michael tips his head back to stare at the ceiling and lets his eyes flutter shut, shaking his head. 

“What is it?” he mumbles. He hears paper sliding across Ashton’s desk, and pinches the bridge of his nose for a minute, inhaling deeply, before forcing his head back forwards to see the file Ashton’s pushed at him. 

“A demon,” Ashton says. 

“Oh, for fu- for Go- uh, for goodness’ sake,” Michael says hurriedly, when he sees the look Ashton sends his way. “Seriously, Ash? A demon?” Ashton shrugs. 

“You want to act like a kid, you get treated like a kid,” he says. Michael exhales heavily, and picks up the file, flicking it open to the first page. 

“Calum?” he says sceptically. “What kind of a name for a demon is that?” 

“You’d do well to remember who named him,” Ashton reminds him, and Michael rolls his eyes. 

“He doesn’t look very threatening,” he remarks, flicking through Calum’s file. “What, a couple of possessions, a few cases of muteness...c’mon, Ash, this is well below my pay grade.” 

“Firstly,” Ashton says, in that tone that says I don’t like what you just said at all but I’m going to be the bigger angel here, “you don’t have a pay grade, and secondly, you’ll take what you’re given.” 

“I know, but c’mon, this?” Michael says, waving the file in Ashton’s face. “You could deal with this in two minutes, Ashton, why send me after him?” Ashton presses his lips together and looks away, and Michael cocks his head, realisation dawning on him. “Oh, shit. He’s sending me after him.” 

“You know I can’t comment on that,” Ashton says, but his wings twitch uncomfortably and he doesn’t even tell Michael off for cursing, so Michael knows he’s right. 

“What does He want me to do this for?” Michael asks curiously. 

“The Lord moves in a mysterious way,” Ashton says primly, which is his go-to response when he knows the answer but doesn’t want to say it. Michael sits back in his seat heavily, grinning. 

“Okay,” he says, nodding. “Yeah. I’ll take the case.” Ashton rolls his eyes. 

“You’ll do as He darn well says,” he tells Michael, who grins. 

“I’ll do as I damn well please,” he says, and Ashton just sighs in defeat. 

 -------

 The first time Michael finds Calum, he’s loosening lug nuts on car wheels in the dead of night. 

He’s knelt on the floor, spanner in his hand, humming something to himself as he works. Michael leans against a car behind him, folding his arms, and watches him for a while, watches the way he bobs his head to the song in his head, taps his fingers on the spanner, grins to himself when the lug nut loosens enough for him to move onto the next one.  

“Man, what kind of demon uses a spanner?” Michael comments after a few minutes. Calum spins around, on his feet at the speed of light, eyes black, teeth bared. Michael just gives him a bored look. 

“Who are you?” Calum hisses. Michael cocks an eyebrow. 

“Don’t recognise me?” he says, and Calum just growls at him. “Damn, how long were you in Heaven? Two minutes?” 

“Who the fuck are you?” Calum spits. Michael sighs, pretending he’s not enjoying this as much as he is, and lets his wings unfold, big and pure white behind him. Calum’s eyes widen, still all-black but with an edge of fear, and he takes a step back. Michael tries his best not to smirk.

“You’re not an angel,” Calum says, sounding like he’s trying to reassure himself. 

“Aren’t I?” Michael says coolly, tucking his wings back in. They feel a little cramped, but he’s made his point, and it’s cold. 

“You said damn,” Calum says, still a little afraid, but also a little confused. Michael shrugs. 

“I have free will,” he says. “Perks of being an angel.” Calum stares at him, and his eyes flash back to looking human again. Michael can’t see too well in the poor light, but they’re still dark, maybe a deep brown, and there’s some sort of a spark in them that makes Michael’s stomach flip. 

He can see Calum a little better now as his eyes adjust to the dark, can see the black jeans and black leather jacket and thin black t-shirt hugging his muscular physique, can see what looks like tattoos on his hands and collarbones and can’t help but wonder whether there are more to be found. 

And yeah, that’s a dangerous train of thought, so he stops himself firmly, allowing himself a sigh. Of course He’s saddled Michael with the hottest demon to walk the realms. 

“Whose car is that?” Michael asks, nodding at the car Calum’s been working on. Calum’s eyes linger on him for a moment, like he doesn’t trust that Michael’s not going to attack him the minute he blinks, and then looks over at the wheels. 

“Don’t know,” he says. 

“You’re trying to fuck with someone you don’t even know?” Calum shrugs, eyes flicking back to Michael. 

“Why not?” he says. Michael narrows his eyes.

“You know fucking with humans is, like, bad, right?” he says. 

“For you,” Calum says, and there’s a glimmer of wicked amusement behind his dark eyes. Michael swallows. “Don’t know if you’ve heard, but my boss isn’t so hot on all of those kinds of rules.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Michael says darkly, because if there’s anyone from Hell Michael’s well-acquainted with, it’s the Devil. Calum, who seems to have now decided that Michael’s had his chance to kill him and hasn’t, casts him one final glance before picking up the spanner, twirling it in his hands (Michael chants a prayer to keep the thoughts about Calum’s fingers at bay), and kneeling at the next wheel. 

“Who are you?” Calum asks again. 

“Michael,” Michael says, as Calum starts twisting the lug nuts the wrong way, tightening them instead of loosening them. “That’s the wrong way, man.” 

“Fuck,” Calum mutters, and starts twisting the other way. Michael cocks his head. 

“You’re kind of a shitty demon,” he tells Calum, who scowls.

“Fuck you,” he says. “You’re kind of a shitty angel.”

“Oh, dude, I know,” Michael agrees. 

“Aren’t you a fucking archangel? Michael?” 

“Used to be,” Michael says. “Got demoted.” Calum snorts. 

“Demoted?” 

“Yeah,” Michael says, with a sigh. “Big man doesn’t like it when you play practical jokes on the Son.” Calum laughs. 

“Yeah, you’re a really shitty angel,” he tells Michael, who bristles slightly. 

“Well, I did defeat Satan,” Michael says defensively. Calum grins, all wicked and sharp teeth. 

“Yeah, he’s mentioned,” he says, and then leans back from the wheel with a sigh. “Man, would you give me a hand?” Michael cocks his head. 

“I’m meant to be stopping you, dude,” he says. Calum rolls his eyes. 

“You’re not doing a very good job,” he says. Michael thinks he would do a much better job if Calum weren’t so fucking pretty. That’s kind of unfair, he thinks. It gives Calum an automatic advantage. 

“Stop it,” Michael says, and Calum laughs, tilting his head back, and Jesus Christ, Michael wants to mark up his neck. He sends a quick apology prayer to whoever might have heard that thought, and clears his throat. “Seriously, Calum. Stop.” 

“Or what?” Calum says, eyes glittering mischievously. “You’ll scowl at me?” Michael cocks his head, and the grin slips off Calum’s face as he starts to choke. He clutches at his throat, looking somewhere between confused and shocked. Michael lets it go on for a few more seconds, relishing the way Calum’s gasping for air, before he lets Calum go. Calum falls back on his heels heavily, a pained expression on his face.

“Stop it,” Michael says simply, and he hears the power in his own voice. Calum winces, head jerking down in a forced bow, and right, yeah, Michael forgot that holy power has that effect on demons. 

“Damn,” Calum says, looking up through inky lashes when Michael lets him go, voice hoarse, but eyes twinkling. “Didn’t take you for the kinky sort.” Ashton is going to string Michael up by his wings for the thoughts that follow that sentence. 

“Fuck you,” Michael says, scowling, as he sends up yet another apology prayer. Calum cocks an eyebrow, grinning. 

“If you’re offering,” he says, rubbing at his throat. Michael sighs to hide the please that’s probably written all over his face. 

“Don’t let me catch you again,” he says instead. 

“What, you’re not going to kill me?” Calum says, and he sounds a little surprised. Michael frowns at him. 

“You want me to?” 

“Just thought you would,” Calum says, shrugging. Michael hesitates.

“You’re not really that threatening, dude,” he says eventually. And you’re far too pretty to kill. “I think the world can handle you.” Calum scowls at him, and flips him off with his left hand, picking up the spanner again with his right. Michael wordlessly tightens all the lug nuts again with a surreptitious flick of his wrist. 

“See you next time, angel,” Calum says, slotting the spanner onto another lug nut. 

“Not if you know what’s good for you, demon,” Michael says, turning away and tipping his head back up to Heaven. He hears a grunt behind him as Calum tugs on the lug nut, and grins to himself. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, dude?” Calum cries, and it’s the last thing Michael hears before everything turns white. 

 -------

 The second time Ashton sends Michael after Calum, he finds him in a Starbucks. His leather jacket is hung across the chair behind him, and he’s staring at a guy a few metres away from him with a look of pure concentration on his face. Michael takes a moment to drink it in, because he looks really fucking cute and his biceps are, like, right there - and yeah, Michael was right about there being more tattoos - before sliding into the seat opposite Calum. Calum jumps, tearing his eyes away from the guy to Michael, scowling when he realises who it is. 

“Hey,” Michael says nonchalantly, reaching for Calum’s coffee and taking a sip. It’s, like, pure fucking caffeine, and he pulls a face, pushing it back to Calum. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Calum hisses. 

“According to my superior, you’re up to no good,” Michael says. “I’m here to stop you.” Calum rolls his eyes. 

“You’re no fucking fun,” he says. Michael shrugs, and reaches for Calum’s chocolate muffin. He’s always regretted not planting the idea of chocolate in the minds of humans earlier. 

“What were you trying to do?” he says, through a mouthful of muffin. 

“Why would I fucking tell you?” Calum says, folding his arms. “You’ll just undo it.” Michael raises an eyebrow, and swallows. 

“The guy’s tattoo,” he says. Calum scowls again. “What’d you do to it?” 

“It said Lisa,” Calum says sullenly. “Changed it to ‘Lice’.” Michael looks over at the guy’s tattoo again - and yeah, he does actually now have a heart with Lice in it proudly displayed on his arm. Michael can’t help the snort that escapes him. God, would Ashton kill him if he left that one as it is? The answer is almost a hundred percent, but he thinks it might still be worth it. 

“That is fucking funny,” Michael agrees. 

“Man, how the fuck are you still an angel?” Calum says, and Michael huffs out a laugh, taking another bite out of the muffin. Calum snatches the rest of it out of Michael’s hands. 

“This is my fucking muffin,” he says, waving the remnants of it in Michael’s face. Michael shrugs. 

“Steal yourself another one,” he says. 

“You steal yourself one,” Calum mutters. 

“I’m an angel, dude,” Michael says. 

“Could’ve fooled me.” Michael rolls his eyes, snapping his fingers as Calum raises the last bit of the muffin to his mouth. The muffin disappears and Calum bites down on thin air, looking confused for a split second before glowering at Michael. 

“What the fuck?” he demands. “Why’d you do that? That was a good fucking muffin.” Michael shrugs, grinning.

“For the hell of it,” he says, snapping his fingers again, and the muffin re-materialises in his hand. He throws it in the air, catching it in his mouth, and winks at Calum as he chews. Calum watches him, half in intrigue, half in outrage, mouth slightly open. He’s got such full lips, Michael thinks, and then hastily swallows both the muffin and that train of thought. 

“You’re the worst angel I’ve ever met,” Calum says decisively, sinking back in his seat. 

“You met many?” Michael asks casually. 

“No, but I’m pretty sure you’re the worst they’ve got,” Calum tells him. “I’m going to write a letter of recommendation to get you kicked out of He-” he winces. “Up there.” Michael cocks his head. 

“What’d you do to get kicked out?” he asks. 

“What do any of us do?” Calum says grumpily. “Exercise our free will.” 

“I exercise my free will,” Michael points out. 

“Yeah, to fucking swear,” Calum says. “You’re like that kid at school who gets an adrenaline rush from telling someone to shut up.” Michael scowls. 

“Fuck you,” he says, and Calum grins wickedly. 

“You kiss your Father with that mouth?” he says. Michael flips him off. 

“Right, well, this has been fun,” he says, wiping his hands on a napkin as he gets to his feet, “but I’ve got to get going. Stop fucking with humans.” 

“Man, you’d be way more fun if you weren’t an angel,” Calum says mournfully. 

“I dunno,” Michael says, mock-thoughtfully. “Wouldn’t get to do this then, would I?” He snaps his fingers, just for dramatic effect, and the Lice tattoo on the man’s arm rearranges itself to say Lisa again, and an identical heart with Lice appears on Calum’s bicep. Calum twists his arm around with a look of absolute horror.

“You absolute fucking bastard,” Calum shouts, making at least five people in the Starbucks turn around and give him a sharp look (not that he’ll fucking care). 

“Be a good boy, demon,” Michael says, throwing him a grin before heading out into the warm October air. 

 -------

 The first thing Michael’s going to do when He gets over Himself and reinstates Michael as an archangel is have a word with Him about ever giving Ashton Summoning powers. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Michael mutters, using his right wing to rub his head where he’d banged it on impact. 

“Are you serious?” Ashton says, hands on his hips. “You come straight into my office and blaspheme?” 

“Don’t fucking Summon me with no warning, then,” Michael says, shaking his wings out. Ashton throws him a glare, probably for cursing, possibly for having the gall to respond at all. 

“You’re an angel, Michael, you’ll come when you’re called,” he says reprovingly. Michael rolls his eyes, but throws himself down on the chair on the other side of Ashton’s desk heavily. 

“What?” he says, with a long-suffering sigh. 

“It’s Calum,” Ashton says. 

“Again?” Ashton throws him a look. 

“You could’ve killed him,” he says pointedly. Michael shrugs, a little uncomfortably. He knows he should have, but something about Calum just draws Michael in, makes it impossible for him to say no. 

“He was fucking with tattoos and unscrewing lug nuts, Ash,” he says, a little too defensive. “Not exactly crimes of the millennium.” Ashton scrutinises him for a moment, and then purses his lips. 

“Well,” he says primly, “apparently he’s turned up in LA.” Michael can’t help but smile at that, because yeah, LA sounds like exactly the kind of place a demon like Calum would show up. Ashton sees it, and frowns. “Michael, this is a case, you hear me? Calum’s still a demon, no matter how much you want to copulate with him.” Michael scowls. Fucking Ashton, always listening to his prayers. 

“No one says fucking copulate anymore,” he snipes, because he can’t exactly deny it. “You’d know if you ever got down off your high horse and visited Earth.” Ashton rolls his eyes. 

“I’m pretty busy up here,” he says, gesturing to all the paperwork piled high on his desk. 

“I’m telling you, station Pahaliah with Peter at the gates,” Michael says. “You’d cut all this in half.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Ashton says. “Pahaliah’s had his work cut out for him since the Enlightenment.” Michael rolls his eyes. 

“Alright, Barachiel, then,” he suggests. “He’s a fucking pain in the arse. Might do him some good to do something mundane for a few centuries.” 

“I think He has bigger plans for His archangels than guarding the gates,” Ashton says. Michael raises an eyebrow, and Ashton rolls his eyes. “You’re not an archangel anymore, Michael.” 

“I am in all but name,” Michael says with a shrug, because He always relents where Michael’s concerned. “This is my, what, twelfth demotion? Thirteenth?” 

“This one might stick,” Ashton says warningly, which is what he says every time it happens. His concern is kind of cute, Michael thinks, if unwarranted. Ashton’s never understood Him like Michael does. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Michael says dismissively, because he’s not about to have this discussion with Ashton again. “Can I go now?” Ashton frowns at him, which Michael takes as a yes. He lifts himself up from the chair, stretching his wings and arms out, and turns to leave.  

“Do not copulate with the demon, Michael,” Ashton says. 

“I won’t,” Michael promises, heading for the door. “Might fuck him, though.” 

(The force with which Ashton slams him into the wall makes the whole building shake, but it’s absolutely worth it.) 

 -------

 LA is cold in November, which Michael had forgotten. It’s also busy, which means he can’t draw his wings around himself for extra warmth, nor simply teleport himself to the studio Calum’s apparently in. Instead, he has to huddle into himself and elbow his way through the Hollywood crowds, meaning he’s in a pretty bad mood by the time he actually gets to where he needs to be. 

Michael distracts the security guard momentarily with a quick wave of his hand, enough for him to slip inside unnoticed. It’s a small studio, only a handful of live rooms, and Michael only has to peek into two before he finds the one Calum’s in. 

Calum, clad in his usual all-black get-up, is leaning against the wall of the studio, grinning as he watches the sound engineer frowning, fiddling with a bunch of his controls. Michael can see the shimmer of the glamour he’s cast, and wordlessly casts one of his own as he clicks the door shut behind him. The sound engineer doesn’t even look up, so preoccupied with trying to fix whatever’s going wrong, but Calum hears the sound and whips around, scowling when he sees Michael. 

“Do you just, like, have a sixth sense for when there’s some fun occurring that could be stopped?” he asks, and Michael grins at him. 

“Just got a sixth sense for shitty demons,” he says, and Calum’s scowl deepens. 

“Fuck you,” he says. Michael raises an eyebrow, then casts a look over at the live room on the other side of the glass. There’s a band in there, two girls on guitar, one on bass and one on drums, all frowning at their instruments and fiddling with tuning pegs or tension rods. 

“You’re un-tuning their instruments?” he says. “That’s pretty bad, even for you.” Calum makes a noise of outrage. 

“What do you mean, even for me?” he says, sounding scandalised. “That tattoo was fucking hilarious, you said so yourself.” Michael’s eyes flick down to Calum’s bicep, even though it’s covered by his leather jacket. Calum notices, and folds his arms. “Yeah, fuck you for that. Do you have any idea the number of favours I had to call in to get rid of it?” Michael snorts. 

“Who the fuck owes you favours?” he asks, and Calum grins, eyes gleaming. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he says. 

“Yeah, that’s why I’m asking,” Michael points out. Calum rolls his eyes, and turns back to the sound engineer, who looks like he’s ready to cry. 

“I asked around about you,” Calum comments casually, as they both watch the sound engineer fiddle with yet more knobs. 

“Oh?” Michael hums, interest piqued. “You know, the Devil and I had a good understanding.” 

“Yeah, until you waged a war against him,” Calum says. 

“On the Lord’s orders,” Michael says, a little defensively. 

“Well, he found it pretty funny that you got demoted,” Calum says. Michael rolls his eyes. Of course he did. 

“He would,” Michael says. “Did he tell you about the time the Lord made him wash the Son’s feet in front of the whole host?” Calum gapes at him. 

“No,” he says, sounding flabbergasted. Michael grins, feeling oddly satisfied.  

“Yeah, I bet he didn’t,” he says. “Didn’t realise he concerned himself with petty demons like you, anyway.” Calum scowls. 

“I’m not a petty demon,” he says, a shade petulantly. 

“You un-tune people’s guitars, dude,” Michael says. “Pretty sure demons are meant to be out committing homicide, and stuff.” 

“There are plenty of demons who do the whole murder thing,” Calum says, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m striking out.” Michael can’t help but grin at that. 

“I’ll put that in your file,” he tells Calum. “‘Not Like Other Demons’. Got it.” 

“I’ve got a file?” 

“What, you think we just let demons run around unchecked?” Calum blinks at him.

“You know Galadriel’s in the US president’s cabinet right now?” he says slowly. 

“Of course we know,” Michael says.  

“And you’re leaving him be?” Michael shrugs. 

“Not my department,” he says. Calum stares at him for a moment, and then a grin breaks out on his face, and he shakes his head. 

“Man, things have definitely changed since I was up there,” he says. 

“When was that?” Michael asks. Calum shrugs. 

“I dunno, I’m not great with time,” he says. “One, two thousand years ago?” Michael hums thoughtfully. 

“You remember Raphael?” he says. Calum rolls his eyes, and now that, that is a sentiment Michael can really get behind. 

“Unfortunately,” he mutters. “He still so fucking holier-than-thou?” 

“You thought he was holier-than-thou then?” Michael says, raising his eyebrows. “You should see him since my latest demotion.” He pitches his voice up a few octaves, and mimics: “Oh, Michael, if you just repented, you could have your seat at His side again. We’re all rooting for you. You’re just letting yourself down.” Calum grins. 

“You get demoted often?” It’s Michael’s turn to shrug. 

“Every couple of centuries,” he says. Calum laughs, all straight white teeth and sparkling eyes, and Michael’s stomach flips. God, he’s far too fucking pretty for Michael to handle. Is that why He sent Michael after him? Is this His idea of revenge? 

“I have no idea how you’re still an angel,” Calum says, shaking his head, still smiling. 

“Pure heart,” Michael says solemnly. “That’s why I keep defending these poor, helpless humans from your shitty little tricks.” 

“They’re not shitty,” Calum protests, as Michael throws a glance over to the girls in the live room, tightening their tuning pegs and tension rods wordlessly. Calum sighs dramatically, eyes following Michael’s gaze. “Man, you’re so fucking boring, you know that?” 

“Whatever you say,” Michael says with a grin, stepping back. “Behave yourself, demon.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Calum says, eyes twinkling. Michael smirks, and drops Calum’s glamour with a snap of his fingers. The sound engineer whirls around immediately, eyes widening when he sees Calum in the corner of the room, and scrambles to his feet, grabbing a nearby guitar and brandishing it like a weapon. 

“Who the fuck are you?” the guy shouts. “How the fuck did you get in here?” Calum shoots Michael a glare. 

“I fucking hate you, angel,” is the last thing Michael hears before everything goes white. 

 -------

 The next time Ashton sends Michael after Calum, he finds him with another demon who looks decidedly undemonic, blonde hair framing baby-blue eyes. Calum’s head whips around when Michael clears his throat, eyes black, poised to pounce, but he relaxes when he sees who it is. Michael’s not sure what to make of that. The other demon, though, bares his teeth, eyes flashing to black, tensing at Michael’s presence.

“Evening,” Calum says casually as his eyes flicker back to looking human, like they’re friends, and like Michael doesn’t have the power to kill him with a snap of his fingers. 

“What are you doing?” Michael asks, cocking his head. There’s glue and there’s coins, and he doesn’t understand how the two of them combine. 

“Gluing coins to the footpath,” Calum says, stepping back to let Michael see. In the dim light of the streetlight a few metres away, Michael can see a few coins shining back at him. 

“Huh,” he says thoughtfully. “Who’s your friend?”

“Luke,” the other demon says, eyes narrowed and black, posture defensive. He’s oddly familiar, Michael thinks, a bitter taste rising in his throat when they lock eyes. Michael’s dealt with a lot of demons in his time, but he doesn’t remember any called Luke. “Who the fuck is this, Cal?” 

“This?” Calum says, far too nonchalantly, kicking at one of the coins to make sure it’s properly stuck. “Michael. You know, the archangel?” 

“C’mon, dude,” Michael protests. “That’s a sensitive topic.” Luke looks at him, and there’s an edge of a glint to his eyes that Michael doesn’t like the look of. 

“An archangel?” he asks Calum, eyes still on Michael. 

“Well, no,” Calum says cheerfully, dropping to his knees again and sending Michael a pointed look, eyes glittering with humour. “He got demoted. Just a regular angel now.” Michael rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in,” he says. “Who are you, the Raphael of Hell?” Calum snorts, and Luke looks from Calum to Michael and back again. 

“Are you going to kill us?” he says. 

“That depends,” Michael says. “Are you going to piss me off enough to make me?” 

“Don’t worry about him,” Calum tells Luke, reaching for another coin and some glue. “He’s the worst angel they’ve got.” Michael sighs, an I didn’t want to have to do this but you’ve twisted my arm kind of sigh, and raises his hand. Calum jerks into the air, feet dangling beneath him, and his wings instinctively shoot out, beating wildly to try and escape Michael’s chokehold. They’re kind of gorgeous, actually - sleek, black feathers, a little unkempt. 

“Huh,” Michael says thoughtfully, as Calum struggles against his hold, wheezing and spluttering, and Luke stares at him, looking only mildly interested. “Nice wings, dude.” He lets Calum go, who drops to the ground with a loud crack, splitting the footpath on impact. Calum winces, rubbing at his throat, and folds his wings back in. 

“Thanks,” he says, coughing. “Always thought black suited me better.” Michael hums in agreement. He can’t really see the pure, brilliant white he has on his own back working with Calum’s aesthetic. 

“Hey, d’you have a halo?” Calum says to Michael, voice still a little hoarse. 

“‘Course,” Michael says. “Do you have horns?” Calum snorts, getting to his feet. 

“I can if you want me to,” he says, throwing Michael a wink. Luke stares at him. 

“Wait, are you two fucking?” he asks, a note of trepidation in his voice. Calum’s eyes flick to Michael, dark and hungry.

“Not yet,” he says, not taking his eyes off Michael. Michael swallows, and apologises to Ashton, who he just knows is listening, for the string of thoughts that just went through his mind. 

“I’m just doing my job,” Michael says to Luke, but he can’t tear his eyes away from Calum’s. 

“Isn’t your job to kill us?” 

“No,” Michael says. “Just to stop you. And, I’ve got to be honest, stopping Calum isn’t exactly hard. He’s kind of a shitty demon.” 

“Fuck you,” Calum says, scowling, and Michael grins. 

“If you’re lucky,” he says, winking at Calum before turning to Luke. “You don’t seem like a very intimidating demon either, dude, not gonna lie.” 

“Oh, you should see him when he’s pissed,” Calum says, and Luke huffs, looking a little embarrassed. “Remember that transport minister in Berlin that fell in front of a train a few months ago?” Michael gapes at him. 

“That was you?” he says, rounding on Luke. 

“Yep,” Calum says gleefully, on Luke’s behalf. 

“What, he stood on my foot on the underground and didn’t apologise,” Luke says defensively. Michael stares at him for a moment, and then shakes his head. 

“You’re a way better demon than Calum,” he says, and the cheerful grin slips off Calum’s face, replaced with an indignant scowl. 

“What the fuck, dude?” he demands. Michael shrugs. 

“Find yourself a better sidekick, Luke,” he recommends, taking a step back. 

“Go fuck yourself,” Calum says. Michael grins, flicking his wrist, and all the coins start rolling down the footpath towards the gutter. 

“What did I tell you about behaving?” he mock-chides, as Calum makes a noise of outrage, trying to stop a few of the coins with his feet. 

“Fuck you, angel,” Calum grumbles, and Michael blows him a kiss as he transports himself back home. 

 -------

 Michael’s in the middle of a debate with Peter about whether or not Julius Caesar should really have been let into Heaven when Ashton Summons him. 

“-just shouldn’t have crossed the Rubicon, if you ask me,” Michael finishes his sentence addressing the wall in Ashton’s office. He spins around, annoyed. “What the fuck, Ash? I was having a conversation.” Ashton holds up a picture of Luke and Calum that Michael had put in Calum’s file, tapping on Luke. 

“Who’s the friend?” he says. 

“Luke,” Michael says. “Can I go now?” 

“No,” Ashton says, motioning for Michael to sit. Michael sighs dramatically, but throws himself down into the chair. Ashton sits down opposite him, wings poised, and steeples his fingers against his chin. 

“You know Luke?” he asks carefully. Michael shrugs. 

“Met him once,” he says. “They were gluing coins to a footpath.” Ashton nods thoughtfully. “Oh, and he killed that transport minister in Berlin a few months ago.” 

“I think he’s killed a lot more than just the transport minister,” Ashton says, tapping on a thick, unmarked file on his right. Michael shrugs. 

“Humans have to die of something,” he says. Ashton gives him a look. 

“We’re meant to protect humanity,” he says reprovingly. 

“C’mon, Ash, they live about as long as it takes me to blink,” Michael says. Ashton purses his lips, but he knows Michael’s right. 

“I’m going after him,” he says eventually. Michael does a literal, honest-to-God double take. 

“You’re doing what?” he says, astounded. “You’re going down?” 

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Ashton says, a little snappily. “Gabriel’ll take over for me when I’m gone.” Michael groans. 

“C’mon, Ash, can’t you pick, like, Uriel, or Selaphiel, or something?” he asks desperately, because he’d rather die than answer to Gabriel, but Ashton shakes his head firmly. 

“Gabriel’s the only one qualified,” he says, eyes back on the picture of Luke and Calum. 

“What’s so interesting about Luke?” Michael asks, seeing the way Ashton’s eyes linger on him. “Why can’t you send someone else after him?” Ashton hesitates, then looks at Michael with a serious expression. 

“There’s never been a demon called Luke.” 

 -------

 Michael next sees Calum in a shopping centre food court. 

Calum spots him before he manages to get to him, and beckons him over, grinning excitedly. Michael tries to suppress a grin and ignore the way his stomach flips at that, pushing through the crowd to get to the booth Calum’s sat in and sliding in opposite him. 

“Watch this,” Calum says gleefully, nodding at the woman to their right. She takes a bite of her margherita pizza, nodding at whatever her friend is saying, and then stops, frowning, hand flying to her throat. 

“What did you do?” Michael asks, as the woman starts to cough. 

“Made her allergic to salt,” Calum says nonchalantly, and Michael snorts. The woman looks like she’s starting to struggle to breathe, so Michael waves his hand, and she relaxes, coughing a few more times, looking extremely confused and concerned. 

“So you’ve progressed to actually killing people now?” Michael asks, mildly intrigued. Calum shakes his head. 

“Knew you’d turn up,” he says, flashing Michael a grin. Michael rolls his eyes. 

“You don’t know that,” he says. “I’m a busy angel.” Calum snorts. 

“Right, that’s why they’ve sent you after me,” he says sarcastically, dipping a chip in some ketchup and popping it in his mouth. “Sure.” Michael shrugs. 

“He wanted me to go after you,” he says. Calum stops chewing, and frowns. 

“He?” he says, swallowing. “As in, Him?” Michael nods. “What the fuck? I’m on G-” he winces. “I’m on His radar?” 

“Apparently so,” Michael says, reaching for one of Calum’s chips and looking around for the mayonnaise. “Hey, where’s the mayo?” Calum stares at him. 

“You eat mayo, and I’m the demon?” he says in disbelief. Michael scowls at him, and conjures some mayonnaise. 

“It’s the best condiment,” he tells Calum, through a mouthful of chip. Calum shakes his head at him, looking genuinely disappointed. 

“What does He want with me, then?” he asks. Michael shrugs. 

“Do I look like God?” he says. Calum shrugs. 

“Never met Him,” he says. Michael raises his eyebrows. 

“Well, who kicked you out?” he asks. 

“Raphael.” 

“Bet he enjoyed that.” Calum huffs out a laugh, sticking his finger in the ketchup and then in his mouth. Michael’s not sure whether he should be grossed out by the fact Calum’s eating pure ketchup, or turned on by the way Calum’s got his lips wrapped around his fingers, looking up at Michael through thick, black lashes. 

“You’re disgusting,” he settles for, but it comes out weak, and a grin’s flashing across Calum’s face in a second. 

“Only for you,” he says, with a wink. Michael rolls his eyes, and hopes the pink on his cheeks isn’t too obvious. He reaches for another one of Calum’s chips, and Calum’s eyes follow him. He looks like he’s weighing up whether or not he wants to say something. 

“What’s He like?” he asks eventually, curiously. 

“God?” Michael asks, and Calum nods. Michael swallows his mouthful of chips, and clears his throat. “He’s cool. Pretty laid-back guy. It’s the Son you want to watch out for.” Calum cocks an eyebrow in intrigue, and Michael nods. “Yeah, the Son’s got a proper stick up his ass. Never met anyone so uptight in my life.” 

“Might be a side effect of crucifixion,” Calum suggests, and Michael snorts. 

“Well, you know, there’s the whole Trinity thing,” Michael continues, “so He’s pretty strict when it comes to the Son. God, the Son’s so spoilt. You think Raphael’s bad, wait until you meet Jesus.” Calum snorts. 

“Don’t think I’ll be meeting the Son anytime soon,” he says, and there’s something hard in his eyes and bitter in his tone. Michael frowns, but it’s gone as soon as Michael opens his mouth to ask. 

“What about Hell?” he asks instead. 

“What about it?” 

“Well, what’s Satan up to nowadays?” A look of amusement flashes across Calum’s face. 

“Oh, y’know,” he says. “Same old.” 

“Being the proudest motherfucker around?” Calum laughs, eyes twinkling, and Michael has the feeling he’s said something much funnier than he intended to. 

“You could say that,” Calum says. 

“He still funny?” Michael asks. “Heaven’s way more boring without him. He was the only one with a fucking sense of humour.” Calum’s eyes glitter with mirth. 

“I’d say so,” he says, grinning. 

“Well,” Michael says, a little awkwardly, because Calum’s finding this way funnier than it should be. “Give him my best.” Calum bursts out laughing. 

“Will do, angel,” he says. 

 -------

 God is nothing like humans think. 

Okay, He’s a little like humans think - He’s got the beard - but that’s about it. 

“Hey, Mikey,” God says, grinning at him when he knocks at the door. “How’s my favourite angel?” Michael rolls his eyes, shutting the door behind him. 

“You’re not supposed to have favourites,” he tells God. 

“I don’t,” God says, eyes twinkling. “But Raphael was listening.” Michael snorts, shaking his head, and God gestures at the seat opposite His desk, capping His pen as Michael sits down. 

“You reinstating me as archangel?” Michael asks cheerfully. God sighs, giving him a serious look, and the smile slips off Michael’s face. 

“You know, Jesus is still mad about the onion,” He says gravely. “You made Him look bad, which means you made me look bad.” 

“You know I didn’t mean to do that,” Michael says, because He can see Michael’s intentions laid out in front of him, clear as day. “And you know I’m sorry.” 

“I know,” God says. “So I am reinstating you. But don’t play around with the Son again.” Michael nods meekly, wings sagging a little. 

“Thank you, Father,” he says. God waves His hand dismissively, grinning. 

“You knew I was going to reinstate you,” He says. 

“Ashton’s going to be pissed,” Michael says, and God chuckles. 

“He knew too,” He says. “He thinks you get special treatment.” That fucker. And, yeah, whoops, Michael’s in the presence of the Lord, and isn’t censoring his thoughts. Whoops. Sorry. “Apology accepted,” He says, grinning. 

Michael hesitates, then, because it reminds him of some things Calum’s said - you exercise your free will to swear, and the many different iterations of you’re the worst angel up there. God raises an eyebrow, motioning for Michael to ask. 

“Why don’t you kick me out?” Michael blurts. God leans back in His seat. 

“You want me to kick you out?” He asks. Michael shakes his head. 

“But I- y’know,” Michael says, shrugging a little uncomfortably in the heat of His gaze. There’s nothing quite like the scrutiny of the Lord. “I swear. I blaspheme. I- uh.” He flushes, and God smirks as images of just what exactly Michael would like to do to Calum flash through his mind. Michael clears his throat. “I’m not exactly a model angel.” God looks at him, calculating, and Michael tries to resist the urge to fall to his knees. 

“You use your free will exactly as I intended it to be used,” He says. “You do as you please with a pure heart, unwaveringly loyal to me. You never have your own interests above mine.” 

“Even when I blaspheme?” God looks at him for a moment, and then smiles. 

“Even when you blaspheme,” He says gently. “You’d do well to remember my omniscience, Michael. Raphael may think obsequiousness is the way into my good books, but that was the reason I gave you free will. I knew some would use it for wrong, I knew some of you would use it to serve me blindly, but you’re the only one who’s ever used their free will as I intended, and the only one I’d ever want at my right-hand side.” Michael has to drop his gaze, can’t meet the holy power shining from His eyes. 

“Thank you, Father,” he says again, and he hears the awe in his own voice. Jesus Christ, he sounds like a human. God snorts at that. 

“Yeah, you do,” He says. “Now, go and tell Raphael you’ve been reinstated. I’ve seen how it plays out, and you’re going to love it.” 

“Can I tell him I’m your right-hand angel?” Michael says hopefully, and God laughs. 

“The fuck you can,” He says, eyes twinkling, and laughs again as Michael gawps at Him. “Oh, you think you’re the only one who can swear in here?” 

Yeah, Michael should have seen that one coming. 

 -------

 The next time Michael sees Calum, he’s with Luke again. It’s the middle of the night, and they’ve both cast glamours, whispering to each other in a dormitory in a hostel in Prague. Luke’s pointing at something across the room, and Michael silently casts his own glamour, sauntering over to them nonchalantly in the hopes of picking up what they’re talking about. 

“...the right side of the room, you take the left,” Luke says, gesturing to the other side of the room. 

“For what?” Michael asks, and both Calum and Luke jump, eyes instinctively turning black and baring their teeth. They both relax when they see who it is, though. 

“Can you let us have one night of fun?” Calum says, sighing. 

“Depends,” Michael says. “Does ‘fun’ involve fucking with the humans?” He indicates the ten people sleeping soundly in the room, and both Luke and Calum hesitate. 

“Well, yes, but-” Luke begins.

“No can do,” Michael says smoothly, and Calum scowls at him. 

“You ever get tired of being a boring cunt?” he asks, and Michael can’t help but laugh. 

“What are you up to?” he asks. 

“Unplugging people’s phone chargers,” Luke answers, eyes gleaming. “They’re all going to wake up with thirty percent charge. Some of them might even miss their alarms.” He sounds so fucking pleased with himself. Michael rolls his eyes. 

“What are you, three hundred?” he says, and he opens his mouth to make another  scathing remark, but is interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He whips around in surprise, because who the fuck can see through his glamour, to find Ashton standing there, looking equally surprised to see him. 

“Oh,” Michael says, turning back to Calum, who looks bewildered, and Luke, who looks shocked. “This is my superior. Although, actually, that’s not true anymore, is it?” 

“You get demoted too?” Calum asks Ashton sympathetically. Ashton sends Michael a glare, and shakes his head tightly. Calum looks back at Michael, who’s grinning widely. 

“No way,” he says incredulously. “You got reinstated?”

“He always gets reinstated,” Ashton mutters. 

“Jealousy’s not a good look you, Ash,” Michael tells him sweetly, and Ashton scowls at him. 

“Ashton,” Luke says suddenly. Ashton’s eyes slide over to him, something unreadable in his expression. 

“Yes,” he says, a little tightly. Michael frowns. What the fuck is Ashton’s deal with Luke? He’s just a harmless fucking demon. He’s about to start unplugging people’s phones, for God’s sake. Not exactly the kind of criminal mastermind Ashton usually descends for; the last time Ashton had come down had been for Attila the Hun. 

“Huh,” Luke says, a little smile unfolding on his lips. “You’re still fucking hot.” Michael’s eyes widen, and Calum chokes on his next breath, disguising it badly as a cough. 

“You know him?” Michael asks in disbelief. Luke grins, eyes glittering, and waves his hand. Michael watches as all the phone chargers in the room simultaneously unplug themselves and fall to the floor, and his jaw drops. No demon should be able to do that. Calum wouldn’t even be able to unplug two chargers at the same time. 

“Cal didn’t tell you?” Luke says sweetly. “Luke’s short for Lucifer.” 

 -------

 For want of a better phrase, all hell had broken loose as soon as the words had left Luke’s lips. 

Ashton and Michael’s wings had flown out, in warrior mode without a second’s hesitation, and Calum and Luke had responded in kind, growling, eyes black, teeth bared. 

“I knew it,” Ashton had hissed, holy light rolling off him so brightly it even almost hurt Michael’s eyes. Calum had shrunk back, but Luke had been unperturbed. “The minute I saw that picture, I knew it was you.” Luke had grinned, all sharp teeth and gleaming black eyes. 

“You think about me that often?” he’d said. 

“Of course I fucking think about you,” Ashton had spat, and Michael had stopped short, stared at him. 

“Did you just fucking swear?” he’d asked. 

“Not really the point, Michael,” Ashton had said through gritted teeth.

“Man, you’re not the only angel to swear?” Calum had said to Michael. 

“He never swears,” Michael had told him, bewildered. 

“These are special fucking circumstances,” Ashton had snapped, and the power in his voice had made Calum stumble back a few steps. 

“Look,” he’d said carefully, when he’d regained his footing. “Michael’s an archangel, you’re...whatever the fuck you are, and Luke’s the Devil. All I’m seeing here is I’m going to come out bottom if this comes down to a fight. Why don’t we take this somewhere else?” They’d all hesitated, tense and poised, none of them willing to be the first to give in, until Calum’s gaze had flickered to Michael, a pleading note in his brown eyes. 

And really, who’s Michael, archangel of the Lord, to say no to petty demon Calum? 

“Fine,” Michael had said, folding his wings, and after a moment’s hesitation, Ashton had followed suit. Luke had taken a moment longer, until Calum had nudged him pointedly, and then he’d folded his sleek black wings in too. 

That’s how they’ve ended up here, in a McDonald’s that’s open all night. They’re huddled in a booth, too close for comfort, Calum and Luke on one side, Michael and Ashton on another. 

“So,” Michael says awkwardly, cutting into the uncomfortable silence, because someone has to be the first to speak. “Sorry about, y’know. The war, and all that.” Luke snorts. 

“Water under the bridge,” he says, waving a hand dismissively, but his eyes don’t stray from Ashton. “You were always my favourite angel.” Ashton flinches at that. 

“What’s the fucking deal here?” Calum demands, and Michael’s silently grateful that he’s not the one who had to ask the question and risk getting publicly reamed out by Ashton. “How do you two know each other?” Luke grins, still gazing at Ashton. 

“You wanna tell them, or should I?” he says, and Ashton stiffens. “I guess I should, huh? It is my story, after all.” 

“Fucking spit it out already, Luke,” Calum says. Luke raises his eyebrows at Ashton, and then finally tears his gaze away. 

“Ashton’s the reason I fell,” Luke says. Michael feels his jaw drop.

“What?” he says, at the exact same time as Calum. 

“How?” Michael demands. 

“What the fuck?” Calum says. 

“What happened?” 

“What did he do?” 

“Hang on, I thought you fell because of pride,” Michael interrupts, jabbing a finger at Luke. Luke shakes his head. 

“I fell because I loved someone more than I loved Him,” he says, and then nods at Ashton. Michael blinks. 

“Sorry,” he says after a moment, shaking his head. “Not sure I’m getting this.” 

“Yeah,” Calum chimes in. “Sounds like you’re saying you and Ashton were, like...a thing?” 

“That’s what he’s saying,” Ashton says. 

“You- hang on,” Michael says, holding his hands up. “You, Ashton, angel who tells me off for even thinking about blaspheming, dated the Devil?” Ashton nods curtly. 

“Nah,” Calum says, shaking his head, “sorry, not having it.” Michael has to agree with that. No way did Ashton date Satan. 

“Wait,” he says suddenly. “No, this doesn’t make any sense. Why do you look different?” Luke shrugs. 

“Changed it up,” he says. “You get a much more exciting range of powers when you’re not confined by His morals.” He grins, and looks back at Ashton. “Ashton still recognised me, though, didn’t he?” Michael stares at Ashton. 

“You dated Satan?” he asks, and Ashton nods. “You never thought to fucking tell me?” 

“What was I supposed to say, Mike?” Ashton says. 

“Oh, I don’t know, hey, Michael, sorry about all those times I slammed you against a wall for swearing, turns out I dated the fucking Devil?” Michael suggests, slightly hysterical. None of this makes any fucking sense. 

“You slam him against walls?” Calum asks, sounding intrigued. “Huh. Shame. I won’t get to be the first.” Michael scowls at him. 

“Are you serious?” he demands. “I find out Ashton dated the literal Devil, and you want to make innuendos? What are you, an incubus?” Calum grins at him. 

“Might be,” he says. 

“Could make you one, if you wanted to be,” Luke offers. 

“If you’re Satan, why the fuck are you messing around with people’s phone chargers and gluing coins to footpaths?” Michael says. Luke shrugs. 

“Being annoying is way more fun than being evil,” he says. Michael stares at him, because yeah, that does actually sound like something Lucifer would say. But Lucifer also didn’t fucking date Ashton. 

“You two didn’t date,” Michael says, shaking his head. “That’s just- that’s just not true.” 

“I can’t lie, Michael,” Ashton reminds him, and Michael bites his lip, because it’s true, he can’t, but he also didn’t fucking date the Devil.

“So,” Luke continues, like this whole interlude hadn’t even happened, spreading his hands. “Turns out I loved Ashton more than he loved me. I get cast out, he doesn’t follow, cue thousands of years of warfare.” And actually, that’s a point. 

“You let me fight that war,” Michael says tightly, rounding on Ashton. “You let me lead that. You let me lead angels, your brothers, into battle to die, and you could have stopped it all along.” Ashton puts his head in his hands. 

“I couldn’t,” he says miserably. “I couldn’t force myself to love Lucifer more than I love Him.”

“Man, this is like a fucking soap opera,” Calum puts in, leaning back in the booth with a grin on his face. 

“I’m glad someone’s fucking enjoying themselves,” Michael snaps, and Calum holds his hands up in defence. 

“I’m a demon, dude,” he says. “I kind of get off on chaos.” He pauses, and then adds: “So do you, actually, don’t fucking lie. You said the tattoo was funny.” 

“That’s exactly why I’m so worried about you, Michael,” Ashton says. “You abuse your free will. I don’t want you to fall, too.” Michael rolls his eyes. 

“Ash, if I were going to fall, it’d would’ve happened a long fucking time ago,” he says. Ashton shoots him a look. 

“You’ve never been as close as you are now,” he says bluntly, eyes flicking to Calum. 

“Oh, c’mon, I want to fuck a demon, so what?” Michael says. “You actually fucked the Devil, and you’re still up there.” 

“You want to fuck me?” Calum interrupts, and Michael rolls his eyes. 

“Dude, of course I want to fuck you,” he says. Calum looks at him for a moment, and then his face splits into a self-satisfied grin. 

“Don’t blame you,” he says. “I am pretty fucking sexy.” 

“Not the moment, Calum,” Michael says warningly, and it’s Calum’s turn to roll his eyes, but he doesn’t retort. 

“He’s not going to fall, Ash,” Luke says, and there’s something gentle and reassuring in his tone that doesn’t really sit well with Michael’s idea of Satan. “Trust me. He’ll never love anyone more than he loves Him.” Calum’s grin drops at that, and Michael tries to ignore the unpleasant flip in his stomach. 

“You don’t know that,” Ashton says. “You haven’t seen how he uses his free will.” Michael hesitates. 

“I spoke to God about it,” he says, after a moment of dithering. “I- look, I can’t tell you what He said, but we’re on the same page.” Ashton throws him a sceptical look. “Come on, Ash, am I going to lie to you about what He said in front of Him?” Ashton hesitates, and then deflates.

“No,” he says reluctantly. “But-” 

“No, I’m not taking any more fucking criticism from you,” Michael interrupts, pointing a finger at him, “ever. You dated the Devil. I’m going to swear to fucking God-” he relishes the way Ashton flinches at that “-and I’m going to fuck Calum, and there’s absolutely fucking nothing you’re going to say about it.” Ashton opens his mouth, and then closes it again, and Michael gets a rush of satisfaction almost as strong as when he’d told Raphael he’d been reinstated as archangel, again. 

“Fine,” Ashton mutters. Luke shoots him a look somewhere between concern and amusement, and Michael tries not to think about the fact that Satan seems to at least somewhat care about Ashton, instead lapsing into an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes until Calum clears his throat. 

“So, Michael,” he says hopefully, breaking the tension. “We were gonna fuck?” 

 -------

 Just because Michael and Calum are fucking now doesn’t relieve Michael from his duties, as God kindly but firmly reminds him when he goes to ask about whether this is, like, even permitted. 

(“You know where I stand,” God had said. “Love no one more than me.”

“For you are a jealous God,” Michael had muttered, and God had grinned. 

“Exactly.”) 

He’s begged Calum to stop fucking around, but Calum seems to think it’s even funnier now that they’re whatever the fuck they are, uses it as a fucking booty call. His ideas are getting more and more ludicrous - he’d gone to someone’s house and put tiny holes in all of their socks, for God’s sake - just to call Michael down for a quick fuck. 

So when Michael hears that Calum’s caused a ten-car pileup on a motorway in England, he’s a little concerned. 

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Calum says, aiming for light-hearted and missing, not even looking up when Michael sits down next to him on the overbridge. 

“That’s all in your hands,” Michael says, looking out at the (pretty impressive) traffic jam Calum’s caused. “Damn, dude. Bad day?” Calum huffs out a laugh, but it’s humourless. 

“Yeah, guess so,” he says moodily. Michael hesitates. On the one hand, Calum’s a demon, and even though they’re physically intimate, Michael’s not supposed to emotionally care about him. On the other hand, Michael’s an angel, so caring is kind of in his nature, and something about Calum just draws Michael in. 

“Wanna talk about it?” he says eventually, gently. Calum shrugs. 

“Nothing you can do about it,” he says. 

“I can listen,” Michael says. “Angel, remember? I do a lot of listening.” Calum snorts. 

“What are you angel of?” he asks. 

“Healing,” Michael says. 

“You heal broken hearts?” And, oh. Okay. Michael swallows. He shouldn’t care about that as much as he does. It shouldn’t matter to him that someone that isn’t Michael has broken Calum’s heart. 

“I can try,” he says, aiming for jovial, but it falls flat. Calum sighs. 

“Remember that dude who wrote that play about the people who couldn’t be together?” he says, kicking his legs out. Michael frowns. “You know, the one set in Italy? Couple of centuries ago?” Michael frowns, and Calum rolls his eyes. “C’mon, man, you know who I’m talking about. Ro- Roleo? No, wait, Romeo? Romeo and Juliet, that’s the one.” 

“...Shakespeare?” Michael says. 

“Yeah, him,” Calum says in relief. 

“What about him?” 

“Didn’t he write the whole star-crossed lovers thing?” Michael raises his eyebrows. 

“You remember that, but not Shakespeare’s name?” he says. Calum scowls, but it’s half-hearted. 

“My point is,” he says, and then he stops, and kicks his feet out again. 

“Your point is?” Michael prompts. Calum sighs, and stares down at the cars. 

“You ever feel like that?” he says gloomily. Michael follows his gaze. 

“Like a traffic jam?” he asks slowly. Calum rolls his eyes. 

“Like we’re star-crossed lovers,” he says, and oh. 

Oh. 

Oh, fucking hell. 

“Calum,” Michael says carefully, and Calum sighs again. 

“I know,” he says, before Michael can continue. “You don’t fucking care about me, whatever. It just fucking sucks.” He laughs humourlessly, and then adds: “You think He’d ever let me back in?” Michael dithers on that for a moment, before deciding to go for the truth. 

“I don’t think so, Cal,” he says gently. “You wouldn’t be able to love Him more than anyone else.” 

“Is that such a fucking crime?” Calum says bitterly. “That I have the capacity to love with thought, with intention, not just blindly?” 

“No,” Michael says kindly. “It just means you’d make a shitty angel.” 

“You’re a shitty angel,” Calum says. 

“I am,” Michael agrees. “But I’ll also never love anyone more than Him.” Calum deflates, and shit, are those tears? Can demons even cry? 

“What the fuck are we even doing then, Michael?” Calum asks flatly. Michael sighs. 

“I do care about you, Cal,” he says. “A lot. I should have killed you the first time I met you, but I couldn’t. There’s something about you, I just…” he trails off. “Look, it’s complicated. I do care about you. I’ll just never love you more than I love the Lord.” Calum stares at the traffic below them. 

“But you could love me?” he says to the cars. Michael nods. 

“Easily,” he says. Calum bites his lip. 

“I could be second best?” 

“You already are second best.” Calum’s brow creases, like he’s trying to make some kind of decision.

“Okay,” he says eventually. Michael frowns. 

“Okay?” Calum shrugs, and the wicked gleam is back in his eyes, just like that.  

“You know what they say,” he says, grinning. “First the worst, second the best.” Michael rolls his eyes, hard. 

“You really gonna have a breakdown and end it like that?” he says sceptically. 

“Demon, dude,” Calum reminds him. “Not really keen on serious.” 

“You sure you’re not, like, a poltergeist?” Michael says, and Calum shoves him off the overbridge. Michael squawks, wings unfolding so fast he thinks he might have sprained something, and he hits Calum upside the head with his left wing as he sets himself back down next to him. “You’re a fucking arsehole, you know that?” 

“And proud,” Calum tells him, and then sobers again. 

“What?” Michael prods. Calum sighs, and holds his hand out, fingers spread, for Michael to hold.  

“I don’t want you to fall for my sake,” he says. 

But, as Michael laces his fingers through Calum’s and stares at the cars under their feet, he thinks: would that be such a bad thing? 

[jadelotusflower]

September Roundup

So it wasn’t a very productive month, writing wise. I think I wrote less than 1000 words due to various RL issues (a shoulder impingement giving me grief among other things). I can’t entirely blame that, but nor am I going to dwell. It’s my birthday tomorrow, and while I’m having the usual existential crisis about another year slipping by almost unnoticed and without significant accomplishment, I am resolved to return to my novel and get at least the first draft finished by the end of the year. We’ll see how that goes.

In the meantime, I’ve at least been reading more. I’ve also consumed too much film/tv instead of writing, but hey.

The Testaments by Margaret Atwood - the long-awaited sequel to The Handmaid’s Tale, this was an engrossing read, if perhaps not what people were expecting. While I agree with some of the criticism, I really enjoyed this book.

Like the original novel, it takes the form of primary sources from the rule of Gilead, in Aunt Lydia’s secret chronicle, and “witness testimony” from two young women - one who grew up within Gilead, and the other outside. It’s fairly obvious from the beginning who they are, but I’ll avoid spoilers. Events become a little convenient towards the end, but it’s a great improvement on the tv show’s third season where things just became ludicrously easy and consequence free. I don’t think Atwood will ever write again in this world, but there is still so much to explore and I hope she does.

Henry VIII and the Men Who Made Him by Tracy Borman - As far as Tudor biographies go, there’s nothing much new here, but it is an interesting character study of Henry VIII through the men who had the greatest influence on him, especially as a young despot in the making. Through this lens it really does become just so shockingly clear that with a few exceptions, almost everyone of importance in Henry’s life goes through the same cycle of being built up, brought close, and rewarded, but then cast aside or crushed by his unchallenged power and narcissism - and often on very flimsy pretext. 

Top End Wedding - I love a romcom, and this was really charming - it’s now on Netflix so I highly recommend. Starring and co-written by Miranda Tapsell, and directed by Wayne Blair (who also directed The Sapphires - a must see if you haven’t), it’s a film that shows great love to classic American and British romcoms (and the tropes are all there), but also uniquely Australian (Tapsell and Blair are both Indigenous, and care was taken to liaise with the Aboriginal communities where filming took place to ensure that proper approvals were given and and respect paid to the traditional owners). The backdrop of the Northern Territory is just beyond gorgeous, and this just the kind of heartwarming fare needed in these Trying Times (TM).

Bill and Ted Face the Music - As is this! I’ve loved the first two Bill and Ted movies since I was a kid, and was so happy that they’ve finally completed the trilogy. Look, it’s not high art, and you’d be forgiven for thinking this is just another cash grab off the sequel-reboot merry go round, but this was made with such clear love and affection for the originals that I just don’t care.

Here’s the thing: I hate an unnecessarily reboot as much as the next person - I don’t think there’s any point remaking something unless you have something new to say about the material. I also hate the “bleakquel” - where the only idea to follow up the original material is to tear it down just to rebuild it the same but without the heart (looking at you Star Wars). However, I am a sucker for the follow up/sequel just to catch up with those characters you love and see how they’re doing 10, 20, 30 years later. It’s familiar, it’s comforting, and sometimes that’s all it needs to be. Really, that’s all B&T FTM is, but I was perfectly satisfied by it.

Maybe there’s nothing more this film has to say than Be Excellent to Each Other (again), but honestly that’s a message I think we all need right now. There’s of course more to it than that - for the first time, we see a Bill and Ted who have become disillusioned that despite mastering so many different forms of music, they haven’t found The Song that will align the planets and bring out world peace etc, despite their most valiant attempts (That Which Binds Us Through Time: The Chemical, Physical and Biological Nature of Love: An Exploration of the Meaning of Meaning, Part 1 is a neat joke but also a legitimate banger complete with throat singing, a theremin, and bagpipes). And SPOILERS: In the end they discover honestly the only possible answer: that The Song itself doesn’t matter, it’s the world united through music, playing together, that brings everything into balance.

Does all the time travel work within the established rules of the universe? Not really - we see alternate Bill and Teds of the future without any explanation of alternate timelines. Are Samara Weaving (as Thea Preston) and Brigette Lundy-Paine (as Billie Logan) essentially doing impression of Winters and Reeves? Sure, but they are so charming that I don’t care.

Now, there are some obvious holes - covid made reshoots/pickups impossible so the opening “where are they now” montage got nixed, there was clearly more story for Elizabeth and Joanna (”the Princesses”) that is sadly missing, and the ending is very abrupt, but circumstances being what they are I can see why they decided to work with what they had and release the film, which is an antidote to the current, depressing state of the world, and at least in my view, a worthy third and final part of the Bill and Ted trilogy. (But I wouldn’t say no to a time-travel through music history show with Billie and Thea).

Disclosure (dir. Sam Feder) - a fantastic documentary exploring the representation of trans people in film and television, which sadly has often vacillated between lack of representation to misrepresentation, but with hope that things are slowly improving. A really worthwhile watch.

Enola Holmes (dir. Harry Bradbeer) - Twas charming! I hadn’t read (or even heard of) the YA books this is based on, and am uninterested in Stranger Things, but found this very entertaining and Millie Bobby Brown delightful in the title role. There was also a nice balance in the supporting cast, in that they resisted the urge to stack the decks too high in Enola’s favour, or make all the characters around her completely incompetent so she’s only heroic by default. She is clever and accomplished, but also finds that practicing jiu-jitsu is very different to an actual fight against someone trying to kill her.

Fleabag (seasons 1-2) - I never want to be too harsh on movies or tv that have been hyped to the heavens, because expectations are always too high and are rarely met. I liked this show, but did find all the smug asides and looks to camera a little grating in the first season. I enjoyed the second season a lot more, because while Fleabag was still a screw up, she wasn’t stealing money from her date’s wallet level terrible, so there was more of an emotionally satisfying arc (+ Andrew Scott who is always great), and I felt the humour was pitched a bit better. Olivia Coleman was the standout for me (isn’t she always?) as the Godmother, whose smiling, passive-aggressive villainy was masterful and worth watching for that alone.

Lucifer (seasons 1-2) - This show has crossed my tumblr dash for years, but I’m not really fond of crime procedurals. I am fond of mythology so seeing as the whole thing’s now on Netflix I decided to give it a go, and I have to say I am intrigued by the concept of the devil as a wayward son whose punishment for rebelling against God was to spend eternity punishing others, rather than straight-up evil incarnate. So far the procedural side of things is ho hum, but I am enjoying the mythology side, and Tom Ellis is very very handsome. I’m also pleasantly surprised at the number of female characters in the main and supporting cast and their treatment - they are actually allowed to talk and be friends with one another. Can you believe?!?

[ordinaryschmuck]

Top 20 BEST Animated Series of the 2010s-7th Place

>Insert long exaggerated sigh here<

It’s here that I really, really, REALLY hope nobody that I know personally is reading these.

(Also, sorry that this was a day late)

#7-My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic (2010-2019)

The Plot: In the land of Equestria, a unicorn named Twilight Sparkle moves to a happy little town called Ponyville to learn about the magic of friendship. There, she meets her best friends Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie. Together they’ll do what most friends do. Which is to sing songs, defeat creatures who seek to destroy everything, and learn that friendship truly is magic.

Now, I know what you might be thinking. Hell, I knew what you were thinking before I even explained the plot: “Isn’t this just a show for little girls that twenty-year-old losers fell in love with? How is this in the top 10?!” Now I’ll be the first to admit, there was a time when I didn’t get it either. When I heard that a fanbase grew around a My Little Pony reboot, I thought people were losing their minds. But, on one fateful day in 2014, my curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to watch ONE episode that seemed interesting to me. Unfortunately, it was the first episode in season two, and I had no idea what was going on within the first few minutes. So then I decided to watch the entirety of season one and then ONLY watch that episode in season two. And the episode after that because apparently, it was a two-parter. And then I watched the next episode after THAT because it also seemed interesting to me, plus the episode after that, for no reason other than I just wanted to. And then I watched all the rest of the series until the season four finale. And the two spin-off movies called Equestria Girls and Equestria Girls: Rainbow Rocks. Soon, I found myself reading fan-fiction, writing fan-fiction, looking at fanart, and even reading these spin-off comics that aren’t even canon, but I just couldn’t leave this magical world because it TOOK ALMOST A WHOLE YEAR FOR THE FIFTH SEASON TO PREMIER! ALL BECAUSE I JUST WANTED TO WATCH AN EPISODE WHERE A CHAOS CREATURE MENTALLY BROKE OUR MANE CHARACTERS! AND YES! I DID WRITE MANE INSTEAD OF MAIN BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT THIS SHOW DOES TO YOU! IT MAKES YOU SO ACCUSTOMED TO THE WRITING AND LINGO, THAT’S WITHIN BOTH THE SHOW AND IT’S INSANE FANDOM, THAT YOU’LL END UP CATCHING YOURSELF FROM SAYING MANEHATTAN INSTEAD OF MANHATTAN!

>SCREAMS WITH INSANITY<

…

So as you can tell, this show is surprisingly good once you get infested.

The biggest hook it has is the animation. While it doesn’t beat The Amazing World of Gumball’s quality, it is pretty impressive when considering that it’s all done in flash animation. Most flash animated cartoons tend to look cheap and slow, and Friendship is Magic is thankfully one of the rare exceptions. The movements are insanely smooth, and the facial expressions are pretty comical to look at. Even in the background of scenes, viewers will notice a lot of little jokes the animators put in. Seriously, the biggest reason why I kept watching the series for so long was that it was nice to look at (which is the case for most people, from what I’ve heard). And the best part? The animation somehow gets better with each passing season. And only 0.1% of the time does it show it’s cheapness, which isn’t that big of a deal considering there are two hundred and thirty-two episodes with a twenty-two-minute runtime. That’s nearly five thousand, one hundred, and four hours of animation that’s good for 99.9% of the time. While you could argue that it’s not the best, it is still pretty good animation quality.

Another thing that drew me in was the comedy. Keep in mind, this doesn’t mean Friendship is Magic is the funniest show on the list (that also goes to Gumball). Humor is subjective, and just because I found myself laughing with this series, that doesn’t mean everyone will be on the same page. That being said, I was surprised by the fact that I found the show funny in the first place. It’s hard to pinpoint what type of humor the show relies on (for me, at least). For some cases, Friendship is Magic has dialogue-based jokes that use smart or random lines to get a laugh out of audiences. Other times it's visual humor that requires slapstick or comical facial expressions that will make people laugh. But while its comedy falls between two different spectrums, that doesn’t change the fact that I find myself losing it every once in a while. Even during some of the worst episodes of Friendship is Magic, there’s at least one line or gag that got me to chuckle at least once.

However, both the animation and the comedy cannot top the main selling point of this series: The characters. Friendship is Magic might just have one of the biggest cast of characters out of any show on this list. Most of them manage to be funny, relatable, and are downright likable to watch. What’s even more astonishing is how well this show handles character growth. To be fair, there can be certain characters whose development is slow, but for the most part, everybody grows significantly with each new lesson they’ve learned. There are even moments when the characters say something along the lines of “I’m no longer that pony I used to be anymore because I finally learned how to change.” However, this doesn’t mean that every pony in the show is worth the time. There are a few unlikeable characters, but they’re either meant to be unlikable, forgotten after an episode’s end, or are redeemed after a triumphant return.

This is good because it’s the characters that make the stories in the show work. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is split into two different storytelling genres: Slice of life comedy and adventure fantasy. And unlike Steven Universe, it’s Friendship is Magic that mixes both these genres together perfectly. I’m not joking when I say that an episode where Twilight rekindles an old friendship can be just as intriguing as an episode where Twilight fights this soul-sucking centaur made to look like the devil. Hell, some fans even argue that the slice of life episodes are even better than the adventurous episodes. Because while the adventure episodes are cool and action-packed, it’s the slice of life episodes where the characters are allowed to grow the most and are actually given time to be themselves. As for the grand adventures, while their fun to see, the cast is forced to stick to their central personality traits to move the plot forward.

Unfortunately, as fun as this show can be, I can’t wholeheartedly recommend it. Not because there are elements that I think are bad, but because there are elements that might turn people away from watching. And the most significant repulse this show has is also the most important hook.

Yes, the characters in this show are great, but there’s also a lot of them. Some might even say too many. By season nine alone, there are a total of twenty-seven different characters that have the possibility of taking/sharing the spotlight in an episode. And that’s not even counting important figures, recurring antagonists, supporting characters, and even recognizable background ponies (yes, that’s a thing). Because if you want to add those to the mix, you’ve got yourself a total of one hundred and twenty-seven characters (give or take). That is one hundred and twenty-seven different names, faces, and personalities to try to keep track of. Luckily the personalities are easy enough to remember, and it’s mostly the most (in)famous figures that make a return. Even for some of the obscure characters, the show is kind enough to give a brief recap so the audience can get caught up. However, this is reasonably a lot to take in for a casual viewer. Case in point, in season eight, the show decided to add six new characters to the main cast, and it only took me a season and a half to learn their names correctly. It’s even worse since these “new” characters can sometimes feel like carbon copies of the Mane Six (Yes, that’s how the main six characters in the show are referred to as. Deal with it).

And the excessive amount of unnecessary characters are just one issue to deal with. The lessons that the show teaches are another. Before I say anything, I want to clarify that this show has fantastic lessons it teaches kids. In fact, there are even great lessons that are perfect for adults and only adults (know your audience, I guess). However, here’s the thing about morals: Not everyone will share the same view on what’s good and bad to teach children. Every person on this planet has their own life experiences, and with those experiences come different ideas of how the world works. One person can believe that a lesson is good, where others view it as awful and potentially dangerous. Things get especially bad when specific morals are misinterpreted or taken too literally. The best example is the episode “Do Princesses Dream of Magic Sheep.” I believe that there are two possible lessons within the episode. One is that to truly be forgiven, a person must seek forgiveness from themselves and others. The other conceivable moral is that the cure for self-destruction is to get over it and move on without any professional help whatsoever. Now, take a wild guess on which lesson gets talked about more. And in all honesty, I blame poor/rushed writing that causes specific morals to be muddled, as well as a person’s own life experience in whether or not you find an episode’s lesson to be intriguing or insulting.

Another thing that depends on one’s own personality is (kinda spoilers ahead) how this show handles reformations. I may have commented on how Steven Universe uses redemption poorly, but it’s even worse in Friendship is Magic. This show seems to have the idea that the transition from bad to good is as simple as flipping a light switch. Now, on the one hand, this is not something I should be mad about. The show’s title is Friendship is Magic. So, of course, the series would push that making friends will lead to peace and prosperity. Where making enemies will lead to war and violence. The problem is that from a storytelling standpoint, it isn’t that entertaining. Or, at the very least, not as much as it should be. The art of a good reformation is taking the time for the transition to be believable. Characters suddenly deciding to become good seemingly out of nowhere will do nothing but have audiences rip their hair out of frustration. It doesn’t help that most of the villain’s reasoning and backstories are pretty pathetic when they actually should be sympathetic. However, while the reformation itself can be frustrating, I personally think some characters are made more intriguing post redemption. Don’t get me wrong, these villains were great as they were, being the perfect mix of both funny and terrifying. But when the show actually allows characters to grow and deserve the hand-er-hoof of friendship, they begin to have more fascinating personalities to dissect. Now, not everyone is going to feel this way. And if you genuinely believe these villains were better as villains, I can absolutely see why. But for me, I’ve come to enjoy how far these ex-cons have come from their more evil days. 

But none of this compares to the final controversial element that this show has to offer, where there is a fifty/fifty chance that you’re either going to love it or hate it. I, of course, am talking about...the songs. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic has four different types of songs. Depending on the episode, these musical numbers have many purposes. They can move the story forward, only work within the episode’s context, try to one-up Disney, and reveal everything you need to know about a character. Now here’s the thing about the music: I don’t hate it. I’ll admit that the lyrics are pretty lackluster most of the time, but at least most of them sound pleasing to my ears. But I have heard how some people seem to hate these little numbers, and I’m willing to put money on that fans even skip them. Everybody has their own tastes in music, and there’s nothing I can do to convince them otherwise. Only respect their opinions and hope they do the same to mine.

In the end, your enjoyment of this series, once again, depends on who you are. Some of you might think this is a dumb kid's show that should only be viewed by children. Some of you will understand that this show has great characters, comedy, and animation, but you just don’t think it’s for you. And some of you might be like me. A person overwhelmed with curiosity over the weirdest phenomenon in the last eleven years and ended up being pleasantly surprised with how magical the show turned out to be.

(And just a heads up, you don’t have to watch the Equestria Girls spin off series or movies in order to enjoy Friendship is Magic. EG isn’t technically canon, and the only noteworthy thing that makes it worthwhile is Sunset Shimmer. And while I personally don’t hate it, I completely understand how others will. But you do need to see My Little Pony: The Movie (2017), though. It surprisingly plays a big part in season 8 and beyond.)

[the--blackdahlia]

Too Young to Fall in Love Chapter 14 (Dirt!Nikki x Reader)

Title: Too Young to Fall in Love 14

Summary: Nikki Sixx was a hard partying musician on the strip. He never expected to fall in love with anyone, until a girl knocked on his dressing room door looking for a ride home and took his breath away. Just like everything else Nikki did; the drugs, the money, the music; Nikki went hard with love. (Y/n) Bass never expected the bassist of Motley Crue to be the one to shake her calm and calculated life up. She had a plan. Graduate school, become an epic producer, and watch from behind the scenes as her brother’s band rose to fame. Nikki and (Y/n) were perfect for each other, too bad her brother, Tommy, didn’t think so.

Series warnings:  Smut (18+ Please), drug use, language, referenced miscarriage, drug overdose, mentioned attempted suicide, out of character moments for everyone in the band, the timeline might be a little screwy but it’s fanfiction! I know nothing of music production and my medical knowledge is really screwy, so it won’t be accurate.

If you like this, consider joining me on Patreon or buying me a ko-fi?

One Month Later

“Babe?” (Y/n) asked into the phone when Nikki answered. He frowned. She should’ve been in class, not on the phone.

“(Y/n) why aren't you in class?” Nikki looked at the time. “Are you feeling ok?”

“Well, honestly, I kinda hurt a little.” (Y/n) laughed. “I have something to show you later though, when you’re free.”

“I’m free,” Nikki said. “Where do you want me to meet you?”

“Come by the house. Mom and dad decided to stay in Greece for another month.” She told him.

“Ok, I’ll be there in five.” he said as he grabbed his keys and hung up with her.

Reaching his car he drove to her house and rushed to the front door. He knocked and waited until she answered.

“Hey babe.” She said, smiling at him and letting him in.

“Um,” Nikki rubbed the back of his head and paced. “You said you hurt but you look okay, but… I mean… I… I love you please tell me you’re ok?” he looked at her.

“Did...did you just say you loved me?” She asked. “I’m so sorry Nikki. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She pulled up her shirt and moved her pants down. There, on her hip, was something that was not there the night before. Nikki would know. It was a black pentagram with Motley Crue, Shout at the Devil around it in red.

“Babe, you…” NIkki pulled her for a kiss before dropping to his knees and gently kissing the area around the tattoo. “Love you.”

“I love you too Nikki.” She smiled down at him. “I skipped class to do this. I think you’re turning me into a bad girl. Just, don’t tell Tommy.” She said.

“Don’t tell me what?” Tommy’s voice echoed from the kitchen. (Y/n)’s eyes were wide and she looked down at Nikki. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO MY SISTER?” Tommy growled when he noticed where Nikki was.

“Tommy, I can explain…” (Y/n) started, but he pulled her back and behind him.

“How could you? You have a girlfriend and you.. You take advantage of my sister? MY BABY SISTER?” Tommy grabbed Nikki by the shirt and pulled his fist back.

“Tommy no!” (Y/n) said, getting between him and Nikki. “No one took advantage of me! I’m his girlfriend! Now, if you want to hit him, you have to hit me too!”

“(Y/n) is the girl I’ve been seeing,” Nikki told Tommy looking at him. “I met her at the concert when you and Athena ditched her… I didn’t know she was your sister until they day you brought her to the concert a month ago.”

“Tommy, he makes me happy.” (Y/n) said. “Didn’t you say you wanted me to be with someone who made me happy?”

“Yeah, a doctor or a lawyer! But not him! I don't know what he’s shown you… but I’ve seen the real him (Y/n/n) and he’s going to break your heart.” Tommy spat glaring at Nikki.

“You don’t know that asshole! If you’re this protective of your sister maybe you should look at how you treat all the women you fuck while you’re high!” Nikki tried to lunge at Tommy but (Y/n) held him back.  

“Do I really need to knock both of you on your asses?” (Y/n) asked. She glared at Tommy. “You know I will too. Troy isn’t the only reason you have a crooked nose.”

“Did you...did you fuck my sister?” Tommy asked Nikki. (Y/n) bit her lip and looked at the bassist as well.

“And what if I did Tommy? What are you going to do?” Nikki growled. “She isn’t a kid she can make her own decisions!”

“Oh no…” Vince mumbled, standing in the doorway.

“Nikki…” Mick warned. Tommy balled up his hand and let his fist fly, but (Y/n) put herself between her brother and her boyfriend, getting a fist to the cheek and her ass on the floor.

“Shit!” Tommy eyes were wide, realizing what he had done.

“(Y/n)!” Nikki yelled and helped her up and pet her behind him glaring at Tommy. “You’re going to pay for that!” Nikki lunged at Tommy and punched him in the face. Mick went over to help (Y/n) while Vince pulled them apart.

“Come on guys! Stop! Our album drops in a couple months and we fight the crowds, not each other!” Vince yelled out.

“I’m fine Mick.” (Y/n) said, running up the stairs. They heard her bedroom door slam and the lock click into place.

“Nice going you two.” Mick grumbled. “I hope you’re happy.”

“You stay away from my sister!” Tommy tried to grab at Nikki.

“Bite me!” NIkki said as he pushed past Vince and Tommy to go get an ice pack from the kitchen before he rushed up the stairs to check on (Y/n).

“I’m fine Tommy. Go away.” (y/n) said when she heard a knock on the door. She was looking at the bruise forming on her face in the mirror.

“It’s Nikki,” he said through the door. “Babe you should have let him hit me.” he sighed as he placed his head against the door. “Please let me in? I have ice for your cheek.” He heard the lock undo. She was sitting on her bed, facing away from him when he came in.

“I look awful.” She said, turning to look at him. Her eye and cheek were already starting to bruise.

Nikki turned her and closed his eyes in shame, he gently brushed her hair out of her face and placed the ice pack he grabbed on it. “I’m so sorry babe.”

“Not your fault.” She whispered. “Tommy and I used to get into fights all the time. He taught me how to fight. He just never punched me before.”

“I’ll kill him,” Nikki growled. “I want to punch him in his face right now.”

“It’s not worth it.” (Y/n) sighed. “You guys have an album coming out. And with that will be a tour. Don’t throw it away.”

Nikki sighed and pulled her to him and kissed her head. “I’m sorry sweet girl.” Nikki kissed her softly. There was another knock on her door.

“Sis?” Tommy asked.

“Not now.” (Y/n) whimpered. It was the first time Nikki had seen her cry. And it made him even more mad at Tommy.

“Go away Tommy! She doesn’t want to see you,” NIkki growled as he let (Y/n) cry on his chest.

“Why are you still here?!” Tommy asked. “Get out Nikki!”

“I’m making sure my girlfriend is ok asshole!” Nikki sighed. “You get out!”

“It’s my parents house!” Tommy yelled. “She’s my sister!”

“You go around hitting your sisters like you hit your girlfriends?” Nikki shot.

“Both of you stop!” (Y/n) called out. She stood up. “I’m taking a shower. If I so much as hear any more fighting,” She looked at Nikki. “No more sex for you.” She opened the door and looked at Nikki. “And no more free lunches for you.” She pushed past her brother and slammed her bathroom door closed.

Nikki got up and pushed past Tommy and headed downstairs to wait for (Y/n). A bit later, (Y/n) came down in a pair of comfy shorts and a tank top. She looked sad as she looked from Nikki to Tommy. They were facing away from each other, while Mick and Vince sat on the couch watching TV.

“Dinner on me,” She sighed. “There’s a buffet. That’s the only way I can afford to feed you four.”

Nikki walked up to her and gently placed his hand on her face, “Are you sure babe? I can pay for a couple of large pizzas.”

“I caused this argument. I’ll pay for it.” She sighed. “Who’s hungry?”

“But (Y/n),” Nikki tried to argue but was shut up by her glared.

“O...K…” Vince looked from Tommy to Nikki. “Whose car are we taking?”

“I’m not riding with him.” Tommy grumbled. He grabbed (Y/n). “Her and I are taking my bike.”

Nikki went to grab (Y/n) but was stopped by Mick. “just let it go man, pick your battles.”

Tommy led (Y/n) outside. He went to get her helmet from her bike. When he stood up from where he kept it, he cupped her face.

“Tommy…” (Y/n) wouldn’t look at him. “I’m fine.”

“Then why won’t you look at me (Y/n/n).” Tommy sighed. “You should have let me hit him.”

“I wasn’t going to let you.” She looked at him, and the reason she wouldn’t look at him started. She started to cry again. “He’s your best friend and my boyfriend.” She got on the bike, followed by Tommy. They headed to the restaurant, pulling away from the others. They parked in a spot and waited for them.

“He isn't my best friend anymore,” Tommy growled. “He should have told me he was dating you.”

“Why is it a big deal?” (Y/n) asked.

“Because you’re my baby sister and if you saw how he was doped up… he isn’t good for you (Y/n/n).” Nikki and the boys pulled up next to them.  They made their way in and (Y/n) paid for all five of them. She paid the extra price for the cheap beer too. They made their way to a table in the back. She sat down, Tommy and Nikki sitting on each side of her and Mick and Vince sitting on the opposite side. The dinner was quiet as they ate and drank. (Y/n) knew they needed to talk somehow. So she took a deep breath.

“I’m quitting school to become a stripper!” She announced.

“WHAT!” Nikki and Tommy yelled.

“You are not!” Nikki said. “No… no way no one sees you naked but me (Y/n/n) no way.”

“You are not becoming a stripper over my dead body! You’re finishing school and becoming a big label executive with a fuck ton of money got it?” Tommy said. (Y/n) smiled then.

“Oh, she’s good.” Mick said. “I like her.”

“What?” Vince asked. “What I miss?”

“She got them to talk.” Mick told him. Vince looked over.

“You guys sure?” (Y/n) asked. “I mean, you two could write a song about it. Vince could sell it. And Mick...well he hasn’t done anything but be nice to me so he’s excused from this conversation.”

“Thank you.” Mick raised his beer.

“Babe, you are not going to be a stripper,” NIkki held her hand and kissed it. “You are so close to finishing school you can taste it!” Nikki said as he looked to Tommy. “I should have told you I was dating your sister.”

“I shouldn’t have tried to punch you.” Tommy admitted. “I’m sorry. Both of you.”

“It’s okay.” (Y/n) said, rubbing her sore face.

“Tommy, would it be ok if I took Y/N out tomorrow night?” Nikki said.  

“Uh...yeah.” Tommy sighed. “Sure.”

“Thanks man,” he smiled and turned to (Y/n), “need me to drop you off at Nessa’s dorm?”

“She’s got her new boyfriend over. I don’t think she wants the interruption.” She laughed a little. “I’ll see her at work tomorrow.”

“She got a boyfriend?” Vince tilts his head. “I um… I didn't know she had a boyfriend.”

“What do you care? She was just your booty call anyways,” Mick shrugged.

“I...I don’t care.” He said, looking away.

“Yeah, sure you don’t,” Mick sipped his beer. “So, we have Shout at the Devil coming out and a  tour and then fun times!”

“I’ll be sitting out on the fun times.” (Y/n) said. “I have classes over the summer and if I get everything done, I can graduate in the winter.”

“Dude, she is smart.” Vince mumbled. Tommy smiled proudly.

“That’s my girl,” Nikki kissed her sweetly.

“So, by the time we come back, you’ll have your degree?” Mick asked. (Y/n) nodded, blushing. “Will we be back in time for your graduation?”

“Well, it’d be right before Christmas.” She told them.

“Oh I’ll be there even if the label gets mad at me,” Nikki said. “I’m going to be there.”

“Dude! Me too! And we’re gonna have a big party!” Tommy called out. (Y/n) laughed and smiled, watching her boys like nothing had even happened.

Forever Tags:  @anathewierdo @dekahg @marvel-af-imagines @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogaruke @xxwarhawk @sandlee44 @shatteredabby @caswinchester2000 @supernaturalwincestsblog @lauravic @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @teller258316 @horrorpxnk

Motley Crue Tags:  @primal-screamer @waywardprincess666 @twistnet @saint-of-los-angeles @vader-kai @motleyfuckingcruee @sharon6713 @kawennote09 @2dead2function @nikkisixxwiththebass @iamtiber-andtiberismusic @jayprettymuchomw @charlyallise @you-know-im-a-dreamer @livingdeadharley @estxxmotley @arianareirg @the-normal-potato @nikki-sixxtynine @jjjjjjjoshdun @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @stella20131991 @tarahell @wowilovenikkisixx @i-want-to-shoot-myself @motleycrueee @sams-serialkiller-fetish @getbackhonkycatt @are-you-reddie54321 @flamencodiva

Nikki Sixx Tags: @daisystuffsstuff

Too Young to Fall in Love Tags:  @kingbouji3 @leximus98 @thekidbakerinthetardis @crystalbaby12 @shawnsstxtches

[maydaymadier]

Fannar Playlist Breakdown

idk, I’m procrastinating so I’m gonna explain all the songs on the Fannar playlist

Immigrant Song, Led Zeppelin  basically my inspirations are showing here, Fannar’s original concept was ‘Well the MCU writers can do whatever the fuck they want with Loki so so can I’ so I pulled this one from the Thor: Ragnarok soundtrack, on a lesser note  “We come from the land of the ice and snow/From the midnight sun, where the hot springs flow/The hammer of the gods/W'ell drive our ships to new lands/To fight the horde, and sing and cry/Valhalla, I am coming!” and he’s literally from a place called The Frozen North

Bohemian Rhapsody, Queen The only family member whose opinion matters to Fannar anymore is his mom.  There’s also just the general level of dramatic thinking that happens when grievously injured and believing you’re about to die. “Mama, ooh,/Didn't mean to make you cry,/If I'm not back again this time tomorrow,” is probably about what he was thinking when he was

Bleeding Out, Imagine Dragons bleeding out at the bottom of an abyss, back mangled and painfully aware that he was about to die, a Fannar backstory jam, this one lines up with when Fannar made his warlock pact with Auril 

Monster, Lady Gaga He just vibes with this one, I think Fannar would fucking love this song

Judas, Lady Gaga Once again, I just think he vibes with this one, he just vibes with it

Fox on the Run, Sweet OH MAN,  this works on multiple counts.  Fannar starts off the campaign as a ‘fox on the run’ bc he’s like, a trickster running away, avoiding home, ALSO “I - don't wanna know your name/'Cause you don't look the same/The way you did before/Okay - you think you got a pretty face/But the rest of you is out of place/You looked alright before” works super well bc Fannar literally grew up with a different face, and he lost it bc of backstory so this would be a random person from The Frozen North talking about him.

Surrender, Cheap Trick I don’t know, I think I just got Fannar vibes from it?  A family with a really weird, vaguely dysfunctional dynamic?  The parents have weird pasts and that’s reflected in the kids?  Yeah, that checks out.

Dead and Gone, The Black Keys Early in his pact Fannar, still presumed dead by anyone who’d previously known him, and at his patron’s beck and call  “So long/Why you waiting so long?/After every single word is said/I'm feeling dead and gone”

Sinister Kid, The Black Keys Fannar, especially early on, was wildly, blatantly self-destructive, not even trying to hide it.  “A sinister kid is a kid who/Runs to meet his maker/A drop dead sprint from the day he's born/Straight into his maker's arms/And that's me, that's me/The boy with the broken halo/That's me, that's me/The devil won't let me be”

The Kids From Yesterday, My Chemical Romance idk, I don’t remember why I originally added this one.  But it’s probably just some Fannar-reflecting-on-his-past from time to time

Sleep, My Chemical Romance Admittedly, Fannar’s done some pretty shitty things, but he’s a lot harder on himself than anyone else is, “Undeserving of your sympathy 'Cause there ain't no way that I'm sorry for what I did” so it’s easier to just own it and revel in the idea that he’s a bad person who isn’t sorry than admit to anything.

Once Upon a December, Liz Callaway (Anastasia) BACKSTORY JAM!!!!!!  This is like,,,,baby Fannar, his present self is so detached from who he was as a small child that that whole part of his life doesn’t really feel real.  He knows it happened, but it’s such a 180 he can’t properly wrap his head around it.

One Way Or Another, Blondie Early on in the campaign he was being tracked down by someone, who later turned out to be his Nana Frostyears (his childhood governess, i guess i’ll call her a governess), tracking him down to bring him home to save the kingdom

Unknown Brother, The Black Keys This is more from his brother Orvar’s perspective, Orvar trying to wrap his head around what happened to his baby brother Fannar as an outsider looking in.  “Though I never met you/And we spoke not a word/I'll never forget you/Through stories that I have heard/For you unknown brother/My baby's mother's pained/Because your soul is in heaven/But your memory remains”

Death By Glamour, Toby Fox The ranger (Isorropia) and the druid/DM1 (Thrain) were talking about Fannar amongst themselves and decided that it fit him and I was inclined to agree.

Don’t Stop Me Now, Queen Fannar, a few years post-backstory, come into himself, still an impulsive bastard but he’s having fun now.

Dinner & Diatribes, Hozier Look, I’m sorry but a lot of songs are gonna be on here bc they’re horny and this is one of them.  This could be Fannar’s pov, it could be an attractive stranger interested in Fannar’s pov, it could go either way.   “Honey, this club here is stuck up/Dinner and diatribes/I knew it from the first look of/The look of mischief in your eyes”

Movement, Hozier yet another Horny Song, but this time a little more, awed by the other person bc when Fannar decides he wants to sleep with someone he goes big or goes home and sets his sights on impressive people......like a dragon  “I still watch you when you're groovin'/As if through water from the bottom of a pool/You're movin' without movin'/And when you move, I'm moved”

Blame It On The Girls, MIKA OH BOY this pretty aptly sums up Fannar’s attitude and attitudes abt various family members, this song is just, a perfect summary of Fannar, though I guess it’s more someone describing him as opposed to Fannar saying it himself  “Blame it on the girls who know what to do/Blame it on the boys who keep hitting on you/Blame it on your mother for the things she said/Blame it on your father but you know he's dead”

Burning Pile, Mother Mother sometimes Fannar’s bullshit, baggage, and mistakes catch up with him and the easiest thing to do is to torch it.  why would he ever actually deal with it fully?   “All my troubles on a burning pile/All lit up and I start to smile/If I, catch fire then I change my aim/Throw my troubles at the world again”

cherubim, serpentwithfeet ANOTHER horny song but this is specifically abt someone!  There’s a character that I have Fannar paired off with in my canon-compliant writing, Renault, the War King of Ragnas.  Who, well, Fannar started off as a consort but then it turned out that he really liked him, and he felt the same way and it’s probably the best romantic relationship of Fannar’s life so he feels a certain level of devotion to Renault.  “Boy, every time I worship you/My mouth is filled with honey/Boy, as I build your throne/I feel myself growing”

Savior, St. Vincent [lord farquaad pointing meme] horny, Fannar is more than willing to fill sexual roles for people, fulfill what other people think of him because that’s easier than having his own concrete identity, though he knows it has its limits “You dress me up in a nurse's outfit/It rides and sticks to my thighs and my hips...... Honey, I can't be your savior/Love you to the grave and farther/Honey, I am not your martyr”

Moment’s Silence (Common Tongue), Hozier [lord farquaad pointing meme but deep fried] HORNY Look, Fannar knows what he’s about, and also maybe sometimes he can be horny in an emotional way that makes him a little bit sappy abt the present events  “Be thankful some know it lovingly/There the reason comes in the common tongue of your loving me”

Low Lays the Devil, The Veils okay, I originally put this on here bc I think it was a recommended song on a different playlist and i wanted to save it and so i saved it to Fannar’s playlist bc it fit that one best.  Overall, just a general allusion to Fannar’s fiendish heritage as a tiefling I suppose and also how he generally likes to hype people up to by proxy hype himself up   “High as the heavenly sea/Low lays the devil in me...Come lay your head on my lap/And let your hair fall back/You've got to live with yourself”

Save A Horse (Ride a Cowboy), Big & Rich Okay, I added this jokingly bc I managed to convince myself that Fannar would fucking love this song, absolutely jam out to it while he’s fucking wasted.  Also, maybe his type is ‘Cowboy’ and that’s hella valid of him.

Horns, Bryce Fox He’s a tiefling!  A tiefling with very prominent horns!  He’s gotta learn to take pride in that shit and learn how to think of them as attractive

It’s Hard to Be Humble, Mac Davis Look, Fannar knows how to hype himself up and strut and preen like the peacock he is, being humble is not a part of his persona

Little Lion Man, Mumford & Sons hahahahaha, scratch through Fannar’s exterior deep enough and you’ll easily find someone who was put through a fucking meat grinder and had his identity crumbled into a million jagged bits.  He maybe could have been a great wizard, and insightful advisor to his brother when he became king, but instead he was broken and choked on the poison poured into his mind   “Tremble for yourself, my man,/You know that you have seen this all before/Tremble little lion man,/You'll never settle any of your scores/Your grace is wasted in your face,/Your boldness stands alone among the wreck/Now learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck”

You’re My Best Friend, Queen I needed a song for Fannar and Isorropia.  Isorropia is his best friend (and tbh he considers her to be like a sister, though he doesn’t really expect her to feel the same way) and he feels very strongly about her.  He would kill a man for Rope.

Everybody Wants To Rule the World, Tears For Fears A pretty central even in Fannar’s backstory was his trying to take the throne of his home kingdom and he generally cares about being in control of himself and his situation, having no control over what’s happening to him is not a good time

I Don’t Know What We’re Talking About, Ninja Sex Party Okay, there’s a running thing where whenever we’re in a bathhouse or something I’ll just shout out “Fannar disassociates in the bath” which started off as a joke but then I realized Fannar doesn’t like being alone with his thoughts or his body.  He didn’t grow up with this tiefling body and as much as he can claim to be comfortable with himself, he can’t always manage to put his money where his mouth is.  There was one notable time where Fannar was completely checked out in the baths in this inn in Vulcanica and the party managed to chase a guy down into an alley and fight him, all while Fannar stayed sat in the bath.  (See also, this is why Fannar is such a promiscuous character, he’s trying to assert confidence in his body by being overtly sexual)

Catch Me Now I’m Falling, The Kinks Ya boi fell.  He notably fell into a massive fucking abyss and it would have killed him had he not made his pact with Auril

Emperor’s New Clothes, Panic! at the Disco Big Fannar vibes, he’s big and dramatic and as someone who grew up among nobility and hated it he knows how to clock fake people who clothe themselves in pretension and importance.  Also lowkey speaks to his ambitions to become an archfey himself someday  “Sycophants on velvet sofas/Lavish mansions, vintage wine/I am so much more than royal/Snatch your chain and mace your eyes/If it feels good, tastes good/It must be mine/Heroes always get remembered/But you know legends never die”

Don’t Threaten Me With A Good Time, Panic! at the Disco What can I say besides Fannar is a party animal

Somebody To Love, Queen HE’S JUST A BIG DUMB GAY WHO MASKS HIS EMOTIONS BUT DEEP DOWN WOULD REALLY LIKE TO JUST GENUINELY BE LOVED, HE’S GOT PLATONIC LOVE IN THE FORM OF HIS INTER-PARTY FRIENDSHIPS BUT HEY HE’D LIKE SOME ROMANCE TOO PLEASE AND THANKS (SHOUTOUT TO RENAULT)

Viva La Vida, Coldplay More backstory allusion stuff, he was a big dumbass who wanted to rule but his reputation crumbled around him and all of those ambitions became untenable.

[kz-i-co]

Just Friends

Request: "Hello! Can you write a highschool au smut of Yunhyeong? Tysm! — We're bestfriends and he's a playboy"

Pairing: Song Yunhyeong/ Reader

Genre: fluff/smut

Words: 3.3k

m.list ╫ ikon masterlist

-

"Will you stop! Get your own food." You pushed your boyfriends hand away from your tray as he took your second to last fry that he happened to eat more then half of.

"I did." He laughed with his mouth full.

"You suck."

You couldn't help but smile from seeing him happy again. It seemed that you two were fighting more then bonding now-a-days.

"Hey."

And this was the reason why.....

You smiled as your best friend Yunhyeong hugged you from behind quickly before taking off out of the cafeteria. You glanced over at your boyfriend as he eyed him off in a menacing glare of jealousy.

"I don't like him." He mumbled.

"He's been my best friend since we've been in diapers, will you chill out." You informed, probably for the hundredth time this school year that you began dating this idiot.

"I can't chill, I feel like you hang out with him more then me." Here we go again... "Besides I notice the way he looks at you and he so happened to apply to the same college as you, the guy-"

You made a habit of not listening to his rants on why you can't be friends with the most popular guy in school who has probably slept with almost the whole senior class and he still has the nerve to feel threatened.

"Are you even listening to me?" He whined.

"Yes Yeonseok. I hear you and I heard you yesterday...and the day before yesterday-" You got up dumping your tray as he followed you. "We are just friends and besides he's a massive player which I have no part of."

"Exactly and he will probably try to sleep with you if he hasn't already." He said but quickly bit his tongue.

"Excuse me. We are friends and no I haven't slept with him. You know why?" Your voice raised. "Because I'm not a cheater!" You finally walked away as another argument was in play. This was all you've been fighting about for the past few months and it seemed to stay that way.

You hung out with Yunhyeong most of the time because he was your best friend and so happened to be your neighbor and if Yeonseok couldn't trust you then what was the point of this relationship.

"Hey sexy." Someone pouched on you and it was Yunhyeong. Speak of the devil. "Are you going to Hanbin's party tonight?"

"Nah."

"Why not?"

"Yunhyeong I'm really not in the mood, I'm sorry."

"What's wrong?"

"I had another fight with Yeonseok." You combed your fingers through your hair.

"Break up with him then." He said.

"I can't just do that."

"Why not? I never see you happy anymore and it's because of that guy."

"I know....it's just because he's super clingy and jealous all the time and it's getting annoying but we've been together a year now and I love him you know." You sighed.

"No I don't know." He shook his head.

"Of course you don't." You laughed while pushing him. "Because you sleep with a different girl every night."

"I do not."

"You're the star of the girls room gossip. Either you're being praised on how good in bed you are or how bad you're wanted in bed."

"Really?" He smirked.

You nodded. "It's pretty annoying."

"I just haven't found the girl I like yet." He said but you saw pain behind his smile.

"And you think sex is going to clear the path for you?" You arched your eyebrows.

"I'm really not that bad. It only happens at these party's."

"Does that mean your tolerance is high or low?"

"I remember what happens......most of the time." He caused you to snark.

"How about we crash at my place instead?" You smirked knowing that's not the answer he wanted to hear.

"Please? Just hand out with me and you can stop me when it seemed I had too much. Last time I came home drunk my parents grounded me for a month."

"And who's fault is that? I hate parties." You rolled your eyes as you noticed a few girls from your class stare at your friend with lust. He was too popular for your crowd.

"Please?" He begged again. "Yeonseok will probably be there and you guys can make up."

"Why would Yeonseok be there? He hates parties too."

"You sure about that?" He gave you a concerned look before walking away.

"What's that suppose to mean?" You followed him as he tried to escape your question.

"I see him there all the time. Relax he probably knows you hate them so he doesn't bother dragging you."

"You lie."

"Am I. Why don't you see for yourself?"

"Fine. I'll go to the dumb party and as soon as you get the slightest buzz I'm dragging your ass home."

"Fine."

.....

"This is so stupid." You left your room as your mother was basically flirting with Yunhyeong at the door. She thought he was the most handsome boy and wanted you two together. Unusual right?

The reason you two were best friends and neighbors was because your parents were best friends since grade school. Your father even shoved the wedding pictures in your face in how Yunhyeong's father and him were each other's best man. You two were inseparable since diapers, according to your mother and it would be perfect if you two ended up together and continue the tradition with your own kids.

Give me a break....

You loved Yunhyeong as friends first and didn't disapprove if it turned into something more but he was girl trouble and he showed no interest in you anyways. You didn't care who he was in your life, you were just happy he was there but things don't always turn out the way they are meant to be mother so get over it.

"Mom please leave him alone." You said as you reached the last step.

"I'm just being friendly." She pouted.

"Let's just go. We will be home in an hour." You said pushing Yunhyeong out the door.

"That's alright honey. You and Yunhyeong go have fun together. But not too much fun." She annoyingly chuckled.

"I love your parents." Yunhyeong laughed as you walked down the street.

"Take them, I insist." You laughed. "My mom is in love with you."

"Really?" He laughed.

"She refers to you as her future son-in-law." He looked at you not sure if he heard you correctly. "Not kidding."

"Who knows." He smirked.

"Shut up....player."

Once you got to the party, it wasn't as crowded as you thought it would be like you see in the movies but it was still enough to make you feel claustrophobic.

Yunhyeong handed you a drink and you glared at him intensely. "Are you kidding me? I'm here to make sure you don't drink."

"It's just one drink. I won't have more then you deal?" He said causing you to laugh.

"You're going to be disappointed then." You took the drink.

"Hey Song." Some preppy blond greeted the boy. "Whose this?" She looked at you disgusted.

"This is my best friend (Y/N)." He said and grabbed your hand pulling you away from the girl. You couldn't help the butterflies in your stomach just the way he was dragging you like some protective boyfriend.

"You want something to eat?" He asked you as you were now in the kitchen.

Before you could give an answer Hanbin quickly showed up cutting you off. "Yo Song, can you help me with something real quick?"

"Yeah. I'll be right back." He looked at you quickly then left.

"Hey (Y/N) right? Are you and Song together?" A few girls came over.

"No." You tried to keep to yourself, washing the horrible drink down.

"I told you, she is with Seok something." The other one said.

"Good. He promised to see me tonight." She snooded. "So you better stay away from him."

"Trust me, he don't want you." You snapped back.

"Excuse me."

"He's not interested in dating. So why don't you find another guy to strip for."

"That's funny because we hooked up at this party last week and he told me I was the most beautiful girl he's ever been with."

"He was probably drunk."

"Listen here bitc-"

"Hey, Sorry....oh hey um....Chaeyoung." He greeted the main girl.

"Chaehyun." She blushed.

"Right sorry."

"Close enough." She smiled.

"Pathetic." You laughed causing her to glare at you. "Come on Song, let's go somewhere else." It was your turn to drag him away causing the jealousy to give you unnecessary happiness that was something you didn't want to admit.

"You have something against those girls?" He laughed and you accidentally tripped bumping into him.

"Sorry." You brushed your hair behind your ear.

"Your shoe lace is untied." He pointed.

"What-" You looked down to notice the cause of your humiliation.

"Here." He lifted you up to sit you on the dinning room table causing you to blush. He leaned down taking your dingy laces and began to put the pieces back together.

You couldn't help but stare as he helped you, catching you in the act. You quickly put your cup to your face, taking unnecessary gulps in the process and he got up towering over you.

"I think I'm starting to feel this drink." The sour face you were holding wasn't pretty.

"Have you drank before?" He asked.

"No." You held your head down embarrassed.

You glanced up to see his warm smile once again until a familiar substance passed back through the crowd.

"Excuse me for a moment." You said hopping down off the washing machine and followed through the crowed trying to find that familiar face.

Shit! Where did he go?

You searched the whole ground level of the house until you started to head upstairs.

"(Y/N) is everything alright?" Yunhyeong said concerned.

"I thought I saw something." You carried on and headed upstairs as Yunhyeong was dragged into some game of beer pong.

Minutes had passed losing Yunhyeong's thought something was wrong until he saw you running down the stairs and heavily tried to pass by the crowd.

"Get off me." You tried to push your way causing attention to focus on you.

"Guys fuck off." Yunhyeong was quick to your side.

"Please, I just need to get out of here." You cried.

"Yunhyeong are you playing?" You heard other people around you.

"Guys, I need to take (Y/N) home." He spoke and you head tilted down looking at the floor.

"I think she's too upset for some action bro." His friends laughed.

"It's not like that." He raised his voice and guided you out.

.....

You were silent the whole car ride. You just couldn't believe you saw him with your own eyes. Cheating on you. The freaking hypocrisy was unreal. You were speechless.

Once the car stopped Yunhyeong got out and helped you out the car as you were just too zoned out.

"Are your parents home?" You finally broke the silence to his surprise.

"My parents work early shifts, they are probably already past out." He laughed to try to ease the tension.

"I just don't want to go home right now, especially like this. Then I'll have to explain." Your voice was still soft.

"Of course (Y/N), you're always welcomed at my house." He said comforting.

"Um..." He began as he juggled the door handle. "I must of forgot my keys." He nervously smiled as he felt up his pockets. "Don't worry the basement door is never locked."

He guided you to the back of the house that you were already familiar with.

"You don't lock this door? What if someone breaks in?"

"This is like the nicest neighborhood ever, you kidding. Besides....you never know if you forgot your keys."

"Clearly." You let out a small giggle to your surprise. Yunhyeong always knew how to brighten the mood.

He turned on the basement light bringing back the old memories. It's been awhile since you both had fun down here. It wasn't your typical old dingy basement. It had soft warm carpet and bright lights that could easily be mistaken as another comfortable room throughout the house.

"Remember when we used to play hide and seek down here?"

"Yeah." Yunhyeong laughed. "To get away from our annoying parents gossiping upstairs."

"You always gave up because I was the best hider ever."

"You sure were." He agreed as you kicked off your shoes and made yourself comfortable on the couch. He just sat next to you knowing you were still upset but didn't want to probe.

"I saw Yeonseok with another girl." You started. "We always fought because he was so convinced I was cheating on him with you but here he was cheating.....funny how that works right?"

"I'm so sorry (Y/N)."

"Did you know? You mentioned you saw him at parties before."

"No......I just seen him a few times but I had no idea." He said sadly.

"Shouldn't you be saying 'I told you so'."

"I would never."

"You knew he was no good for me, maybe I should of listened to you." You looked at your best friend.

"He didn't deserve you. But it wasn't my place to question your decisions."

You couldn't help but melt from his words. He was the best thing in your life and you didn't know why you were taking advantage.

"Why are you looking at me like-" He started but you cut him off with your lips attached to his quickly. Once you pulled away he was staring at you like the room was spinning. He didn't know what to do. "(Y/N) I think you might be too upset at the moment."

"No, I just finally connected the pieces together." He looked at you like he didn't understand. "You are always the one that is there for me. Always the one to make me smile or laugh or tell me when I'm being an idiot....and I don't want anyone else to take your place."

"So are you telling me-" You cut him off again but this time he kissed you back. You pulled back so you were lying down on the couch with him hovering over you.

He suddenly pulled away to continue asking dumb questions. "Does this mean you are cheating on Yeonseok?"

"It's so over between us." You pulled him back to kiss you once again.

"Does this mean we're dating now?" He pulled away once again.

"If you keep interrupting, we won't be." You had to pull him back down again.

He pulled away one more time but you cut him off. "Yunhyeong shut up."

You couldn't help but laugh though. He may be one of the most popular kids in school but he still came off as a big dork, just like you remembered him for.

You moved your leg up around his waist, just to bring you two closer to gather and it was already causing friction. It was clear that Yunhyeong was more experienced then you but you were taking the lead some how. It almost made you curious how much was gossip and how much was the truth.

You softly hummed as you were running out of breath. But that didn't stop Yunhyeong to move on to your neck, already marking your skin in its trail. His wandering hands started brushing up your shirt, feeling every inch of you. You were just as guilty as you started undoing his belt.

You felt him playing with your bra strap, eventually loosening up the tight fabric. He had it off quicker then you realized and immediately started messaging your chest, loosely under your shirt. His lips made it's way back up to your lips, feeling more moist then before.

He stopped suddenly once he felt your hand making it's way inside his jeans. He closed his eyes tightly as you rubbed against him. You could feel the tightness growing causing you to unzip his jeans for more room.

When you felt like he had enough, you tugged his shirt up signaling for him to pull it off.

You took some time to admire his toned body until he distracted you by tugging off your jeans. You went ahead and took off your own shirt being completely exposed.

It almost looked like he blushed as he saw you in full. He leaned down to kiss you once again, as you tugged off the rest of his jeans using you feet.

You pushed him up breaking the kiss once again but instead he kissed down your chest, giving you very much needed attention. You tried to contain your moans as much as possible.

"Yunhyeong." You said weakly causing him to just hum in response. "Can you get a blanket?"

"Now." You has to raise your voice to get him to stop. He quickly left you side and came back covering you both with a blanket. He went back to kissing up and down your chest like he never left and by this point you were growing impatient. You gently took him in your hand showing you were ready and slowly jerked him only enough to lubricate. He stopped kissing you from the new pleasure he was receiving and you smirked feeling achieved from his reaction. You moved him forward guiding him to where you wanted him.

You both moaned softly from the sensation and moved slowly to adjust. His muffled sounds were so beautiful as he began his movements. The pleasure was unreal. It was almost like a dream.

You grabbed the back of his neck down to kiss him passionately as he quickened his pace. You tilted your head back shortly after as you couldn't contain your moans from the pleasure.

You moved your hand to the front of your folds to guide your climax closer to the edge.

"Fu- go faster." You cried weakly and he picked up the pace driving you crazy.

Just as you were about to release, he beat you to it causing the room to spin. You felt numbness scattered throughout your body.

You looked up, opening your eyes once again and looked at Yunhyeong's beautiful face and you couldn't help but smile seeing how exhausted he was. You laughed wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"Can I talk now?" He said cutely causing you to laugh.

"I suppose."

"Do you mind if the school knows?"

"What?" You looked at him annoyed.

"I mean, like can I hold you hand, kiss you before you enter class, buy your lunch, call you my girlfriend....."

"That might make a lot of people mad."

"I don't care."

"Okay." You smiled. He was a dork and you were madly in love with him.

He moved off of you laying besides you on the cozy couch. He placed his arm around you, letting you snuggle up against him.

-

"I don't let me check downstairs." You slowly woke up to a voice and then sudden footsteps coming downstairs. You and Yunhyeong both sat up quickly as you held the blanket up covering your naked chest. You watched as his mother looked around the room not noticing you both exposed on the couch.

"Ah here it is." She grabbed an old book. She was heading back up the stairs but suddenly stopped. "You two better get dressed and come upstairs. We need to talk."

You both looked at each other nervously but her tone was pretty genuine, not like she was angry which confused you both more.

"I'm sure it's fine." Yunhyeong said biting his lip.

"Yeah right."

[sevi007]

Gifted to @rex101111 and @fuckoland, for always listening to my ideas and giving me that last little push of confidence I so often need when writing. Thank you both so much. =D

Spoilers for DMC 5

Summary: Finding a way back to himself, back to his brother, and out of Hell - Vergil learns that those had been the easier parts of his new journey. Because redemption is not simply offered on a silver plate, and bonds take time to forge. But Nero might just be worth all of that.

Warnings: Uh, swearing, cause it’s Nero, and probbaly a bit OOC-ness on Vergil’s side (first time writing him, and he’s a difficult fella, I tell you)

Word Count: 7227

                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ D ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Fortuna.

Of all the places he had been to in his life, this city was not one he had expected to return to one day, with his business here finished and other goals to be chased.

Ah, but you didn’t think you would return to anything, a tiny voice in his mind mocked, sounding suspiciously like the croak of a bird. Didn’t think you would come back from this last fight, did’cha, boy?

Vergil scowled into the sky before him, banning the voice – memory, ghost, whatever it was – back into his subconsciousness. No more of this. I woke up from you.

Part of him expected a reply still. Waited for the flutter of wings, the pressure of claws on his shoulder, mocking and taunting in his ear. It didn’t come. Of course it didn’t, he told himself sternly, that part of him was gone, chased away like dark dreams in the morning sun.

 The only noise left behind was the avid chatter and laughter drifting up from the garden stretched down below. People talking over each other, laughing together. The sound of cutlery being set on tables, glasses clinking and chairs and tables being pushed together to make room for everyone, interspersed with easy chats.

Below him, life continued on, as if nothing had happened. As if they hadn’t all been in danger of being wiped of this earth mere months ago.

Easy companionship. High spirits. Celebrating their return from Hell, had been said, but he had the hunch that these people did not really need a reason to sit together and celebrate, if they felt like it.

 Nero had seemed at ease in the middle of things. Not as open and enthusiastic about it as the girl (Kyrie, Vergil recalled, the name not easily forgotten due to her very resolute reception of him upon his return). But still, the young man had easily greeted the various people who had showed up, accepting hugs and pats readily, striking up conversations freely.

It shouldn't have been a surprise. The boy considered these people friends, most of them family, even.

Vergil, on the other hand, must have counted for neither of those options.

 He had left (not fled, never fled, he told himself) the scene at the earliest chance, when not too many people had been looking. Had chosen the highest point of the house’s roof as his refuge, to watch attentively and think.

Bright blue eyes had followed him, he knew, had all but burned into his back, but he had ignored it. If his brother wanted something from him, he would find him. Not even the deepest depths of hell or the highest point of a cursed tree had stopped his brother before. A roof would be a joke in comparison.

 A deep voice started a sing-song right behind him, words full of mockery and taunt, “Vergil, Vergil, sitting on a roof, K-I-S-S-I-…”

Speak of the devil.

“If you keep that up,” Vergil warned without even turning around. “I will stab you. Again.”

“Aaaah,” Dante nodded wisely while he dropped beside his brother, legs dangling dangerously over the edge for the blink of an eye until he shifted and settled. Sprawled out leisurely, he flapped a hand at the other. “Still pissed cuz I one-upped you, I see.”

“Your counting is getting worse. I am currently leading.”

“Pfffft, sure, bro, sure.”

 A fall from the roof, Vergil reflected, would sadly not do his twin any harm, even if he put all his strength into giving him a much needed push.

“Did you want something, Dante?”

Dante hummed non-committally, lounging so close to the edge it was a miracle gravity didn’t take hold of him yet. He didn’t start talking – which, probably, was the most ironic thing the more talkative of the two could have done.

Finally, Vergil’s finger already twitching as he went over the idea with the push again, Dante spoke up. “You know, I would have figured you would at least try before running again.”

Pretense would not work, not on him, but Vergil tried, anyway, eyes closing as he summoned whatever calmness he still had left. “No one is running from anything, dear brother.”

“Dear brother. You only call me that when you’re seriously out of it. And you don’t even mean it.”

“I do wonder why that is.”

“So, you’re running,” Dante ignored the comment which dripped with sarcasm, going in for the kill instead, “Because how I see it is - you’re up here, and the kid is down there, so do tell me how you guys are gonna talk this out?”

 Of course. Vergil closed his eyes for a moment. Suddenly, the prospect of a trusty nightmare at his side was more enticing than having his twin here instead. Then again, there was not much difference between the two. “What should we talk out, in your opinion?”

“Hm, let me think about that…,” Dante drawled. “Right. Perhaps that he’s your son? Happy Father’s Day, by the way. I think you missed a few of those in the last years.”

“You are simply stating a fact. There is nothing to discuss about it.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Vergil, I thought we talked about this - at least give the kid a chance to get to know you, you stubborn asshole.”

Avoiding the other’s gaze when he could all but taste the disappointment in his words was no longer possible, and Vergil glanced over, feeling horribly tired. “I am not who he remembers.”

“Well, yeah,” Dante stared back at him, slightly askance, fully exasperated. “Not much he could remember, with you being phenomenally absent for… eh. All his life?”

The urge to snap And whose fault is that? was there, clawing at his insides like a living beast. Vergil swallowed it down, forced himself to think No.

 He had been the one too blind, not Dante. He had been the one to jump head first, without thinking of what exactly he was possibly leaving behind.

It had taken him breaking apart to put together what mistakes he had made. He would not forget again.

 One breath, two, three, and the urge subsided. He was getting better at ignoring that old, bitter part of himself which tried to convince him everything was his twin’s fault. A reflex honed over years, and not easily unlearned now. He fought to banish it, dispatching it every day a bit more, with each interaction with his… his family.

Family.

That particular word would take some time to get used to.

 Dante was still watching him, expectant and accusing at the same time, he knew, yet Vergil didn’t meet his gaze. There was nothing he could say in his defense, and the only explanation for his statement was one Dante wouldn’t understand.

He didn’t even understand it fully, himself. He only knew that there was… something. Something which was his, but not quite. Memories in his mind, fuzzy things, like a nice dream he once had and now couldn’t recall clearly. A part of him that remembered a helping hand, a shoulder offered to lean on, a now-familiar becoming voice reminding him to rest, to take it easy. Remembered the relief that came with it, with having someone to count on, to trust.

There was a man who remembered Nero as something more than a stranger.

 (- “V you gotta rest” - )

 (- “I guess I owe you one.” -)

 (- the tool, the last hope, the boy, Nero, Nero-)

 (Why had his first thought upon reassembling the halves of his very being been to thank this boy, someone who had been a stranger to him then? It had been there, the words right on the tip of his tongue, stronger than the old urge to win and proof himself right. His heart had beat and beat and beat, each thrum a whisper of You remember him, you do, you do…)

 But he wasn’t that man anymore. He didn’t remember. Not really. Not himself.

Tche, and not gonna do anything about that, are ya?

This time, his hand nearly twitched upwards to shove someone off his shoulder – before he noticed there was nothing to shove at. No feathers nor claws, no sharp beak pecking him for trying.

Deliberately, he lowered his hand again, balling it into a fist to keep it where it was.

 If Dante had noted his sudden movement, he did not to comment on it. Instead the younger rolled around with a grunt, away from the edge, and stood in a way that somehow managed to be casual yet graceful. Stretching with a loud yawn, Dante squinted into the setting sun for a moment – only to turn and kick his brother in the lower back. Hard. “That’s for being an obstinate asshole.”

Vergil grunted, glared, but didn’t so much as budge or fight back. “Obstinate. I’m surprised you even know what that means.”

The grin Dante sent him back was more teeth than anything else, eyes a hard glint to them. “Good thing the kid is better in this whole family department than we both are, jackass. He isn’t going to let you off the hook that easily.”

 It took Vergil a second to make the connection, and once he did, he nearly cursed out loud, out of character as it was. Head swiveling around, he did indeed catch sight of the young man standing at a distance, balanced on top of the roof as if gravity didn’t concern him, hands shoved into his pockets and watching the twins with a slight frown.

Nero noticed his gaze and lifted a hand in greeting after an awkward, fidgety pause. He stood ramrod straight, shoulders tense and clearly uncomfortable – but also like someone on a mission, not ready to back down a single step, jaw set and head held high.  

 Vergil hadn’t felt him coming, much less heard, too caught up in the presence of his twin… which probably had been the plan all along.

Much to his displeasure, Dante proved to be immune to his death glare, shrugging at him. “Told you. Not off the hook.”

“You just can’t mind your own business, can you.”

“You knew that already,” and then, all casualness was gone. Dante moved with the speed of a striking demon, too fast for the human eye, and all of sudden he was there, right in Vergil’s space, hand on his twin’s shoulder like a vice, forehead to forehead, blue boring into blue. “Listen up here, Vergil – no idea what’s going on in that head of yours, but Nero is not me. He is not you. I learned that the hard way, and you will have to learn that, too. So whatever got you all stuck up about this; get over it, and quick. You’re not gonna get an endless amount of chances, capisce? You already got a lot more than others did. ”

Instinctively and beyond his control, Vergil tried to avoid the gaze burning into his, only to find that it was impossible, partly because of the hand on his shoulder like a steel shackle, partly because of the sheer intensity in those eyes. Trapped and backed into a corner, he ground out between clenched teeth, “I know that.”

“Oh, good.”

In the blink of an eye, Dante had backed off again, rocking back with the biggest grin on his face, hands put on his hip as if nothing had happened just now. A quick glance over to Nero – the younger still kept a respectful distance, staring off into the distance now as if this did not concern him – and Dante got serious again, voice low, “Like I said – he’s better at this than we are. He’s better than you. Better than me. So get a move on and try, you deadbeat of a father.”

Then, softer, but no less stern. “He deserves it. Don’t fuck this up, Verge.”

 With one last salute, mocking through and through, Dante turned and wandered off, leaving Vergil behind to comprehend everything that had been flung at him. Dimly, the older of the two noted how Dante stopped when he reached Nero, clapping the younger on the shoulder with a bright grin. A quick conversation, an eyeroll from Nero followed by an elbow into the elder’s rips, answered with a loud, bellowing laugh from the man. Then they separated again, pushing past each other gently.

Dante jumped off the roof without looking back once.

 Vergil turned to look out over the city again (not much had changed, he noted, even if his memory of it was blurred and apparently the place had seen some rebuilding after demon attacks).

He made a point out of not looking, not checking what Nero would do. Cursing to himself for getting tricked into this so easily.

Quiet footsteps resounded, firm, not hesitating. They stopped next to him, before Nero lowered himself to sit beside him, feet dangling over the edge.

 They sat in silence for a while, Nero’s gaze wandering down to the group in the garden, then over the city that had been his home all his life.

Then, finally, the younger spoke up, “You didn’t come over to greet us.”

Teeth grinding together for a second (not even straight to the point), Vergil tightened his shoulders, pulling himself up straight. “There were enough others to do so.”

“Right. Sure. So, what now? You avoiding your own party?”  

“This party has nothing to do with me.”

“Yeah?” Now there was sharpness to Nero’s voice, even though he had tried to sound casual before. “The whole thing is about celebrating you guys getting back out of Hell alive. Would think that does concern you.”

Something cracked inside of Vergil – too many people trying to talk to him when all he wanted was silence to sort his thoughts, too many suspicious looks, too many voices in his mind not his own, too many decisions to make – and he snapped, ice lacing his words, “And me being alive is something to celebrate for you, yes?”  

“After I busted my ass off to keep you dumbasses alive?” Nero’s voice had risen for a second, before he seemed to remember that there where people down there who could hear him. Obviously restraining himself through sheer willpower alone, he finished in a hiss, “Yes, dammit, it is.”

 It should have made him angry, this child speaking in such a manner to him. The flaming gaze and bared teeth and balled fists should have put him on defense.

Surely, Vergil reflected, angry and confused at himself, surely this simple, angrily thrown out statement shouldn’t have made him feel relieved.

 (You remember him, you do, you do…)

 He closed his eyes against the heady, unfamiliar rush of emotions, willing them back, back into a heart that beat stronger and steadier than it had in years, demanding to be heard in a way he hadn’t felt in decades.

Better get this over with, before he did something stupid, Vergil thought – and took the leap. “If you have something to say, then speak.”

 “I still think you’re a damn asshole.”

 The words were quick, blurted out in such a rush as if they had wanted to come out of their own volition. For a second, Nero himself looked as if he was surprised by his outburst, before he frowned, turning away. He talked to the skyline instead, probably unaware of the way Vergil stared at the back of his head as he went. “I mean… fuck. Fuck, you cut my damn arm off! And you tried to kill Dante, who… who tries to kill their own brother?! That’s not even all you did – fuck, you, just – fuck you, okay?! Fuck you, for all the shit you tried to pull. But, Dante, me… You did that to your own family, you dick, you don’t just… you don’t just do that. Okay? It’s fucked up, that’s what it is. You’re fucked up.”

Silence settled between them, charged and heated, only interrupted by Nero’s heavy breathing, as if the young man had just fought a tough battle and was out of breath for it.

 Then, just when Vergil had half a mind to up and leave (clearly, the boy had said what he had to say know, right, this was it, this was over) Nero breathed in deeply, a hitching sound, before letting it out again in a hiss. When he spoke, his shoulders had lost some of their tension, and he seemed to ponder something. “But… like a friend of mine said not too long ago… without you, I wouldn’t be here. You’re my family. And I know there’s more to you than all that.”

 Too late, much too late, did Vergil realize that Nero’s gaze had dropped to something in the younger’s hand, gripped tightly but carefully.

All his anger evaporated as he caught sight of it - the old, slightly battered book gleamed golden in the light of the setting sun. A soft spot left wide open for all to see.

No.

Left in good, caring hands.

 (- “Hold onto that until then” -)

 As if sensing the elder’s gaze, Nero snapped up and around – eyes so bright they were nearly luminous, brows furrowed, the book raised like a weapon. A proof. Voice like steel, he repeated, “I know there is more to you.”

They stared at each other, blue into blue, nothing between them apart from a book and a decision. Nero looked like he dared him to disagree, to deny what he had just said.

Vergil found that he couldn’t do so.

 And finally, when the denial didn’t come, Nero seemed to come to a decision. Nodding to himself, he all but jabbed a finger of his free hand against Vergil’s chest, not heading the fact that the older didn’t budge and merely lifted a quizzical eyebrow at him.

“So this is how this show is going to go from now on – you fucked up big time. And I saved your ass more than once. You owe me,” there was a hint of knowing and smugness in Nero’s expression, and Vergil had a sense of déjà-vu, since that looked all too familiar, “You said so yourself. In fact, I would say you owe me several times over, asshole. That’s one ripped off arm, at least two times I saved your sorry ass, and I’m pretty sure there’s more. Would say that means you have some redeeming to do.

And you will,” now, Nero’s voice was sharp and unforgiving, eyes blazing as he jabbed again, not minding the twitch in Vergil’s face. “Because, again – you owe me.”

 For a moment, Vergil was struck speechless. There would have been a time, once, when this young one talking to him in such a way would have made him furious, would have had anger roar inside of him like wildfire.

It didn’t come, this time. Because the boy was right. He did owe him, had said so himself. If he broke his word now, Vergil knew with certainty, then he would never get another shot at… this. At getting to know Nero, the person he had caught glimpses off and had been proud of.

And that person - his son - wouldn’t let him off the hook, not that easily.

 Vergil felt a smirk stretch over his face, respect and amusement flickering inside him. “Did you already plan on how this… redemption is supposed to go, as well?”

Narrowing his eyes, Nero mulled the answer over, the gaze sweeping over his opposite calculating. Finally, he snorted, leaning back and crossing his arms, chin raised. “You’re going to help with the rebuilding of Red Grave City, for starters. I don’t care how – if you send money for repairs over or fucking lay bricks yourself to rebuild, your decision. That destruction was your fault, and you will make up for that.”

His breath was momentarily knocked out of Vergil at the prospect of having to see that city again – roots of his he had believed to be unrooted now – before he nodded jerkily, teeth clenched.

Satisfaction gleamed in Nero’s eyes. He seemed to grow surer about this the longer the other didn’t disagree. “Next of – fucking stop trying to kill Dante.”

“That,” Vergil pointed out, almost mildly, “we have already stopped.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, don’t start it again. It’s bullshit, and I would just have to beat you guys up again,” Nero waved it off, clearly disinterested in hearing any more about it. Missing the way Vergil’s lips twitched into a grin for the blink of an eye. “And – turn it down with the asshole attitude. Not saying you gotta become a damn saint here, but nobody here is trying to slit your throat in your sleep, so stop acting like it.”

There was probably no point in telling the younger that he wasn’t all that sure if nobody ever at least felt the urge to do just that to him, so Vergil simply nodded mutely in response to that before, “Anything else?”

 “A lot, probably,” Nero answered without missing a beat. “We will see about that when we get there.”

Vergil huffed, amused despite himself.

Nero looked him up and down again, considering. Then his posture relaxed slightly, forearms resting easily on his knees, shoulders slumping. “You’re actually not complaining about it.”

“Would it change anything?” A frown pulling at his expression, Vergil rolled his eyes. The quiet awe in Nero’s voice about that fact did not feel good at all. Had he not thought that Vergil would at least try?

“Nah. Just thought you would try to bargain at least.”

“I do not bargain about things,” Vergil frowned at the thought – well, perhaps there had been times where he should have done so. “I face what comes my way.”

“Head first through walls, huh?”

“I’ve been told I can be stubborn before, if you meant to imply that.”

At that, Nero laughed, quiet and deep. It was a surprisingly joyful sound nonetheless, and touched something in Vergil that he had thought long gone.  

 When Nero looked back up, past him and upwards, he was fully relaxed, eyes crinkling in silent amusement. “Hey, I just thought about something else you could do.”

Barely holding back a groan – did the younger have a list of deeds for him? – Vergil tilted his head in the other’s direction, signaling he was listening.

Nero kept his gaze on the sky above them, biting down on a smirk while he scratched his nose, pretending to think. “You know, I could use some help doing the dishes later.”

Vergil could feel his eyebrow twitching up in obvious surprise before he could stop it – the lapse in his expression clearly noted, since Nero’s smirk widened. At least his voice was still under his control, flat and cool as he more stated than asked, “The dishes.”

“You heard me.”

“You are not serious.”

“This is how I sound when I’m serious. You better get used to it real quick.” Nero must have noticed the disbelief on Vergil’s face, for he smirked, shoulders moving in what could have been a tiny shrug or suppressed laughter. “You did see how many people we invited, right? And Dante eats for three. There’s going to be a lot of dishes, and I’m not gonna do it alone.”

 Vergil could only stare at this curious young man (son, family, his), who surely must be mocking him right now.

Who could have, should have put him down, should have torn into him, should have- he should have hated him.

The younger could have asked anything of him, in his debt as he was.

And he asked him to do inane chores.

 “He’s better than you. Better than me.”

 Was that… was that an offering? A chance?  

His mind drew blank as to what he should do with this information, this turn of events.

 “Don’t fuck this up, Verge.”

 The rest of him, however, seemed to know, deep down. There was a mixture of warmth and something else, bright and strong, spreading through him, curling gently in his chest as if to stay there permanently.

Vergil didn’t feel like analyzing it. Not right now, at least.

 He closed his eyes, tilted his face towards the setting sun. For the first time since taking this place high above the buzzing, lively group down in the garden, he felt the warmth on his face, the breeze caressing through his hair. Free enough of the thoughts repeating over and over in his head that he could pay attentions to the world around him again.

“Very well, then,” he conceded at last.

“Yeah?” He couldn’t see it, but the smirk in Nero’s voice palpable. “Alright, sweet. Counting on you.”

 This time, the silence that settled between them held no anger, only a sense of calm.

Only to be interrupted from an outside source a minute later.

 “GUYS!”

 They both looked down to see Nico waving up at them with one arm, her free hand cupped before her mouth as a makeshift megaphone.

“What?!” Nero bellowed back.

“GET DOWN HERE, FOOD IS GONNA BE READY SOON!”

“If it’s not ready yet, there’s no need to yell at us already!”

“MOVE YOUR ASS, YOU HANDSOME DEVIL!”

 “I told you not to call me that,… oh fuck’s sake,” Nero sighed, even though it didn’t sound sincere, and rock back and forth to push himself to his feet in one fluid motion. Clapping some dust off, he hesitated, gaze flickering down to where Vergil was still sitting. “You, ah. You coming?”

Gesturing vaguely, Vergil shook his head. “In a minute.”

“Suit yourself. But I’m not bringing you any food up here.”

It was a good thing Nero had already turned away, else he might have caught the little upwards twitch of Vergil’s lips in response.

 Vergil, however, saw full well how Nero gingerly, almost tenderly, held the book full of poems against his chest as he made to leave, thumb caressing over the thin spine mindlessly.

It was a kind of care Vergil remembered clearly, from days long gone – days spent in libraries and bookshops, surrounded and soothed by bound pages and written words. And the books he had been most careful with had been those… Those he knew and loved.

“You read it.”

The question – statement – seemed to throw Nero for a second. He turned, gaze following that of the older back to the book, and realization dawned. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips (tugged at Vergil’s loud, demanding heart) as he ducked his head a little.

Scratching his cheek, Nero shook his head, “Didn’t finish. Missing a few poems yet.”

He must have misread something in Vergil’s expression, since he coughed lightly, scratching again, not meeting the other’s eyes. “I might have read a few of them multiple times. That takes time, okay.”

A quick glance over at the older, then Nero frowned, seeming to realize something. “What, you want it back? I mean, it’s yours, so…”

“Keep it.”

 Nero halted in his movement, the hand offering the book halfway extended, eyebrows arched. Staring.

Vergil wasn’t much better off, surprised that he heard himself speak so quickly, so thoughtlessly. He clucked his tongue – at himself or Nero, he wasn’t sure – and gestured at the book between them. “Missing a few, you said. You should not leave things unfinished. It does not… seem to be your style.”

A beat, two… then something flickered over Nero’s face, the shift too quick for Vergil to analyze. Eyes narrowing then widening, before a slow, warm smile stretched over the young man’s face, growing into a crooked grin.

 (It was the first time he had the younger see truly smile in his vicinity, part of Vergil noted.)

 “Yeah, well,” Nero said, slowly, smile still there and softening his expression into something warm and open. He pulled the book back, safely tucking it into his jacket again. “Guess I inherited a stubborn streak from someone. Don’t do well with giving up halfway through.”

Processing that for a second, Vergil huffed, shaking his head as he turned away from the younger. “I see.”

Retreating steps could be heard, and Nero called over his shoulder. “Don’t let the food get cold.”

 Vergil waited until he sensed that he had been left alone on the roof, before allowing himself to breathe out, deep and slow.

His heart beat steady and strong.

No urge to blame, to fight, to leave. No drive to chase after faraway goals.

Only quiet and peace.

                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ D ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Maybe his disappearance hadn’t gone as unnoticed as he had thought, since there where very obvious reactions once Vergil tried to slip back into the middle of things without being seen. People fell silent in the middle of their sentence, heads turned and gazes followed him about.

 Opting to ignore them, he straightened and made his way past them, keeping his attention on getting something to eat. Behind him, the conversations picked up again, yet he could feel the prickle of being watched every now and then, the hairs at his neck rising under the scrutiny, skin feeling itchy and tight due to it.

He didn’t let it show, didn’t let it deter him. Used the satisfied little curl of Nero’s lips once the younger spotted him in the crowd as his guide instead.

At least to the young man, he was welcome here. That would have to be enough for now.

 He walked along the table that obviously served as the buffet, almost buckling under its load of an assortment of different food. Passing the stack of pizza cartons, smirk twitching around his lips at the sight, he halted, considered his options, and settled on some pasta, filling one of the plates at hand to the brim much like he had seen the other guests do.

For a moment, he almost forgot about the people around him, until a soft voice addressed him. “Vergil?”

 A gentle hand on his elbow, the touch soft and light, stopped him in his tracks, more efficiently than any foe could ever had. He dropped his gaze to the fingers resting on him – asking for attention, not demanding, not restricting – and followed the length of the slender arm, up to Kyrie’s face.

She was smiling, eyes soft and warm with… amusement, of all the things. “I just wanted to tell you - don’t mind what Nero said.”

Alerted, Vergil narrowed his eyes at her, pondering what she could have heard of their conversation. It had not been all that personal, yet still it was… more than he felt comfortable with, to share with a stranger.

Kyrie blinked, before she laughed, raising a hand to her mouth to smother it. “Oh, no, I wasn’t listening in! I meant about the help with the dishes. Nero told me about it. You don’t have to do that of course - you’re our guest, after all.”

 She didn’t mention any of the other demands Nero had made, even though Vergil was suddenly very sure that she knew about those, too. Even to him, it had been clear how close those two were, how much his son counted on the strong partner by his side, and vice versa.

Yet it was not her place to discuss those with him, and she knew that as well. He felt a sudden respect for this young woman well up in him, impressed by her loyalty to Nero.

 Shoulders relaxing minutely, Vergil was about to answer, when it abruptly occurred to him that she had read his thoughts easily that, simply from his expressions. How curious and… confusing. Carefully schooling his face back into a neutral expression, voice quiet, he murmured lowly, “It is of… it is no trouble.”

Of no matter, seemed wrong, he reflected, for it felt like it did, simple a task as it was.

Kyrie examined his expression, pursing her lips – only to start smiling again after a moment. “Alright, if you say so…”

“Hm.”

“… then, thank you in advance.”

The hand on his arm squeezed lightly before she pulled away, turning to survey the buffet. Taking up a plate and selecting a menu for herself, she smiled one last time at him, looking him straight in the eye, clearly happy when he inclined his head ever so slightly at her. And then she was gone again, easily weaving through people who made way for her.

Vergil watched her reach Nero at the other side of the garden. Watched still as Kyrie rose to her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the man’s cheek, causing a bright smile to stretch over his face while he leaned down to murmur something into her ear, causing loud, happy laughter to echo over the little crowd. Was still watching as Kyrie picked something of her plate to offer it for Nero to eat…

 Something old and long forgotten steered in Vergil’s memory –peaceful days, when father had come back home, carrying with him presents and tales. Mother’s eyes that had shone bright with laughter as her husband lifted her and twirled her around. Evenings spent curled together, four bodies all but wrapped around each other while father’s deep voice told them stories of places far away, and mother’s laughing protests when the stories got too adventurous and bloody rang out, even though the twins had fake-pouted for more.

This… this little scene he was witnessing here was a private scene, achingly familiar and yet something he was a stranger to. Suddenly feeling like an intruder, Vergil resolutely turned his back on the pair and walked away, aiming for the table that had been set up in a corner of the garden.

 Much to his displeasure – at least he told himself so – Dante had already found his way to the table as well. Feet kicked up onto a corner of the wooden surface, arms crossed behind his head and rocking dangerously on the back legs of the chair, his twin grinned up way too smugly at him as he approached. “What did I catch back there? You, doing chores?”

Not dignifying with an answer what the other obviously knew already, Vergil picked a seat nearly at the opposite end of the table, getting comfortable.

“Kid must really have kicked your ass if you agreed to that.”

“He had good arguments to base his demands on. In fact, this part was the easiest one,” Vergil relented, ducking his head to hide his own smirk as Dante laughed at that. “He will make me work for it.”

“As he should. Good kid.”

Nothing in Dante’s voice gave the feeling as if he was joking with that comment, only fondness and respect audible when one listened close enough – knew him well enough.

And Vergil found himself agreeing with it. There would be a lot to do and atone for, yet… the reward might just be worth it. He considered the situation he found himself in in silence for a while, and came to a conclusion. “… I will. Work for it, that is.”

Will work to make it right, was left unsaid.

“Yeah?” Dante tilted his head to look at his twin, blinking in surprise, then grinned brightly and turned away again. “Good for him. For you both.”

“Hm-hm.”

 “Would you look at these guys,” an amused voice cut between them, both twins turning as Trish approached, carrying a glass and nothing else with her. “They started without us.”

“Rude,” announced Lady, skipping past the blonde woman and around the table to look for a seat herself. “Must run in the family.”

“Okay, you take that back,” Nero shot back, snorting to himself as he observed the table. Behind him, the rest of the guests followed. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Fine, leaving you out of this one.”

“Thank you so much.”

 “Okay, just to make this clear,” Dante announced, letting his chair fall back into a horizontal position  and leaning over the table to accept the plate Kyrie handed him with a cheeky wink and mischievous grin. “I want a new, clean plate for every pizza I eat. No cartons. We got to give Mister Dishwasher here something to do.”

Vergil looked up from his plate just enough to send another inefficient glare in his twin’s direction. He received a toothy grin for his troubles. Figures.

“Dante, don’t be a di-…,” Nero stopped himself, eyes flickering to Kyrie who hid a smile behind her hand, before he turned back to scowl at Dante, “Don’t. Just, don’t.”

“Aw com’ on, kid…”

“No.”

“It’s just fun! Good ol’ fun between…”

“I’m going to punch you again, old man.”

Dante closed his mouth abruptly with a quiet click of teeth, leaning back with his plate and one hand raised in surrender.

 The gesture of submission drew a bout of laughter from the people around them. Trish was grinning so brightly it must have hurt, and Lady was hooting with mirth. Even Kyrie was shaking with barely withheld laughter.

Morrison wiped away at tear before clapping Nero on the back, who looked up a bit perplexed, but ultimately grinned back. “Kid, I’ve never seen someone shut this guy down like that. Respect!”

“Hey, his bitch slaps hurt!” Dante protested. “Nearly killed me with that one!”

“Oh god,” Lady sniffled, still giggling. “I wish I could have seen that.”

“Nero, next time, give us a call beforehand,” Trish added, hand on Nero’s elbow as she leaned over to him. “We have to see that.”

“Sure, deal.”

“Probably went like…,” Nico imitated being slapped in the face and falling over with dramatic flailing, earning another round of laughter. She resurfaced with one hand propped on the table, laughing so hard she was nearly crying. “S-Sorry, sorry, that was just too good to pass up.”

“Okay, okay, we get it, punching me in the face is funny ….”

“It is,” Nero interrupted, eyes dancing with laughter. “It really is.”

Glowering at the younger, Dante stuffed a slice of pizza whole into his mouth, chewing near defiantly on it. The muttered “Punk.” was almost lost in cheese and tomato sauce.

 “Alright, boys, no more fighting,” Kyrie announced, hands on her hips, fondness in her voice and smile on her lips. “We will enjoy our dinner together in peace.”

“Hear, hear!”

“That peace is gonna last two minutes, max.”

“The lady of the house has spoken, everybody shove some food into your mouth and shut up.”

“I can do that.”

“We know you can.”

“Was that a jab at my healthy appetite?”

“Nothing healthy about that, old friend.”

 The chatter started up again easily, quips and jabs flying left and right, gentle shoves and punches being dished out while everyone laughed and talked over each other, all the while taking seats and getting comfortable. In all the ruckus, it seemed to be forgotten that one of them was more stranger than friend, the good mood and company easing any suspicion for the time being.

Vergil found himself sandwiched between Dante’s old partner Morrison, who nodded at him before turning around to strike up a conversation with Trish, and Nico, who was so caught up in explaining a new gun to Lady she didn’t even seem to notice who sat on her other side, exactly. Dante was talking with his mouth full, getting whacked over the head by Trish for it and laughing, the sound muffled, looking unapologetic to boot. A few of the children living with Nero and Kyrie were still running around the table, laughing loudly, rushing from one of the adults to the other to ask for stories about their demon hunting adventures.

 It was an absolute mess, and noisier than Hell itself, but the urge to stand up and leave for peace and quiet never came, much to Vergil’s surprise. Deciding that was just as well, he tasted a bit of the food before him.

He actually had to pause and savor the bite for a second, flavors bursting on his tongue. He couldn’t remember when he had last eaten anything this savory.

 “Hey, can anyone pass the pepper?” Nero’s voice rose above the ruckus, but he was still mostly unheard, everyone too caught up in something else.

It wasn’t even a conscious move, but Vergil had already reached out and handed the item across the table to his opposite before it really registered with him, making him pause in the middle of it.

Nero looked just as perplexed as he felt for the blink of an eye. Then surprise made way for a crooked grin as he accepted the shaker “Thanks… father.”

Vergil didn’t find any words to offer, mouth suddenly dry as his gaze met Nero’s, the same blue eyes as his own looking back at him without any sort of resentment – simply warmth.

 There would be a lot to do and atone for, and yet… yet…

The reward would be so, so worth it.  

 “So,” Nico piped up, startling both men out of their silence and then drawing the attention of everyone towards her. “Are we supposed to do a toast at this kind of thing? Like, hey real neat that you didn’t die or somethin’?”

“You have a way with words,” Nero grumbled, leaning back. There was still a smile stuck in a corner of his mouth, and he couldn’t seem to stop it.

“Ah, you’re one to talk, smartass.”

“I think a toast is a great idea,” Kyrie interrupted the argument before it could even start. Raising her glass, she offered, “To Dante and Vergil?”

“Aw, don’t make me blush, kiddo,” Dante gave back, fluttering his eyelashes that made Trish snort loudly next to him. “How about – good to be back?”

“Still alive and kicking!” Lady offered, raising her own glass.

“To new beginnings?”

“To being too though to die!”

“To good food.”

 “To family.”

 Heads turned, surprised gazes straying to Nero, who held his glass high above his head, looking somewhere between amused and embarrassed.

“That’s a great idea,” Kyrie agreed, sending a soft smile his way that made Nero’s shoulder relax visibly.

 “Yes.”

Vergil didn’t blink as all those gazes now snapped towards him, openly staring at him as if nobody could believe that this single word had just come out of his mouth. He ignored them, focused fully on Nero opposite of him as he reached over and lifted his own glass to tip it towards the younger in silent acknowledgement.

The smile on Nero’s face widened, bright and sincere, and all the perplexed staring in the world could stop Vergil from feeling his heart grew lighter than it had been since he was a child.

 It was Dante who spoke next, breaking the silence and bafflement by declaring, swinging his own glass up. “Best idea I’ve heard in a long while. To family!”

That seemed to break the spell over the group, and everyone laughed, cheered, agreed with bright smiles on their faces as they reached for their own glasses. Somewhere next to Vergil, Nico announced “You guys are gonna make me cry” and Nero laughed loudly at that, head thrown back, and even Vergil smiled, unseen in all the commotion.

 “To family!”

“Yeah!”

“CHEERS!”

 Their combined voices, united in one bright, happy shout, could be heard over half the city.

[dudedrops319]

Dooley Noted - A musical journey through the mojo of a Toledo bluesman

(original version can be seen at https://toledocitypaper.com/feature/dooley-noted/)

Dooley Wilson is frustrated.

It’s 9:57 am on a cold Saturday in December and he is supposed to start playing at 10 o’clock. He has only just now stumbled out of the Toledo tundra into the cozy confines of the Glass City Cafe, which has booked him for its popular Bluegrass Breakfast music series.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” he cries out in the direction of restaurant owner Steve Crouse, who assures him everything is fine. Wilson looks pained as a brief flash of flame passes over his smoldering dark brown eyes. No, it’s not fine. He was scheduled to start playing the blues at 10 sharp, and now he’s going to start late. And a professional should always be punctual.

Undaunted, he swallows his disappointment and, within 10 minutes, he has everything set up at the front of the restaurant which serves as the stage. Upending his battered Cunard Queen of Elizabeth canvas bag, he sorts through the contents— Halls menthol cough drops, a bottle of slippery elm supplements (“Just in case my voice goes out”), a bottle of Deja Blue water, a glass vase that serves as a tip jar and a power strip.

He plugs the power strip into his amp, a well-loved 1965 Fender Bandmaster. And then out comes the artisan’s tool— his Jay Turser electric guitar. It doesn’t have a name or anything; it’s a utensil to serve the stew of blues (“It’s a cheapo guitar, but it’s MY cheapo guitar,” he muses). He’s almost ready. He asks, and a cup of hot black coffee is delivered. After the obligatory microphone check, he sits on the edge of a worn tan suitcase and readies his guitar. It’s time to go to work.

Soon the Glass City Cafe fills with the sound of the blues— and Wilson is lost in ecstasy. He’s sitting atop the worn tan suitcase, choking the guitar neck, his angular carved-in-stone features a mask of concentration, fingers and knuckles gnarled from a lifetime of plucking strings. There’s no setlist, no backdrop, no real plan. Just a working man with an instrument sharing the gospel of what he believes is the greatest music that exists. Wilson plays the blues as if his life depends on it.

And maybe it does.

From C.J. to Dooley

Dooley Wilson does not take toast with his mozzarella cheese omelet, favoring potatoes instead. Sitting in the Glass City Cafe months later— this time as a patron— he is a bit more relaxed than he was when he played here. He still doesn’t smile much. Wilson isn’t grumpy, he just carries himself with an intensity that’s disarming. You get the feeling that he doesn’t want to be here. That’s because he lives to do one thing: Play the blues. And when he’s not playing the blues, by gum, he wants to be playing the blues.

But for now, he’ll tell his story. Now 45 years old, he was born C.J. Forgy, in West Lafayette, Indiana to James and Sandy Forgy. His parents split when he was two years old and he went to live with his maternal grandmother in Maumee. An only child, Wilson describes himself as an “artsy kid” who spent hours in his room drawing and writing.

“Everyone thought I was going to be a visual artist,” says Wilson, taking a sip of his coffee. “But along with writing, over the years I’ve let those skills atrophy,” he says, with a regretful sigh. “But I don’t know; I’m thinking about taking up drawing again for its therapeutic value.”

So what sparked his obsessive devotion to the blues? It started as musical hangups often did in the ‘80s— with a cassette. At 15, Wilson, who was teaching himself guitar and whose musical tastes at the time ran towards Led Zeppelin, walked into Camelot Music in the now-long-gone Southwyck Mall and spied a tape from Columbia Records called Legends of the Blues Vol. 1. There was something about that tape that spoke to him.

He picked it up and looked at the back. As-yet unfamiliar names like Bo Carter, Blind Willie Johnson, Charley Patton, and Leroy Carr stared out at him from the tracklisting. Robert Johnson— he knew that name from an interview he’d read with Jimmy Page and he was fascinated by the infamous story about Johnson reputedly getting his blues talent while making a deal with the devil at a crossroads. Maybe it was the ghost of Johnson himself speaking to Wilson that day in Camelot Music. All he knew is that he had to buy it.

When he got home, he popped the tape into his boom box, and something in the universe shifted. At that moment, C.J. Forgy ceased to exist and the bluesman named Dooley Wilson was born.

“That anthology started this mystique and passion I had for this music,” says Wilson, in between forkfuls of omelet. “It just spoke to my angst-ridden soul at the time and I had never heard anything so authentic, so human, so real. Take Son House’s song ‘Death Letter,’ which is on that anthology. It’s taken from his 1965 Columbia session and it’s just this amazing song about how a man gets a letter saying that the woman he loves is dead. It’s just…” Wilson often trails off when he talks about the blues; yet another reason why he’d much rather play you a song than talk about it.

From that fateful moment, the blues wasn’t just a preferred style of music to listen to or to learn to play… it became, at that time, a life choice.

“I decided I’m going to devote my life to being some kind of bluesman like Fred MacDowell or Son House,” says Wilson. “It became much more important to me than making a living. If you weren’t dead and black, I couldn’t be bothered to listen to you.”

Henry & June

By the way, where did that name Dooley Wilson come from? Wilson smiles broadly with a touch of sheepishness. He was setting up one of his earliest gigs, at the famous East-side haunt Frankie’s, and his buddy Lance Hulsey (currently the leader of Toledo rockabilly outfit Kentucky Chrome)— who Wilson played with his first band, a heavy metal project called Harlequin— said that the promoter needed to know what to call him… and C.J. Forgy didn’t exactly sound bluesy. So the young musician, right there, decided on the name Dooley Wilson in homage to the actor and musician of the same name, famous for playing the character Sam in Casablanca. Dooley Wilson is now his legal name. He cashes checks with that moniker.

With a new name under his bluesman’s belt, the then-recent Maumee High School (Class of 1992) graduate needed a band that would let him explore the blues the way he wanted to. The result was Henry & June, a heavy blues ensemble that Wilson formed with his good friend Jimmy Danger. They got the band name from a recently released biopic of Henry Miller, one of Wilson’s favorite authors.

“I was obsessed with the blues at that time, but I’m still incapable of playing it correctly,” says Wilson, draining his coffee cup. “I was really struggling to learn how to play blues the way it was meant to be played.”

But even as he worked to unravel the mysteries of Deep South blues, Wilson was experiencing something unexpected: Success. Henry & June had released a single called “Going Back to Memphis” on Detroit label Human Fly Records, and the song was attracting a lot of heat. The popular band The Laughing Hyenas— which featured former Necros member Todd Swalla, who would go on to play with Wilson in his later outfit Boogaloosa Prayer— were big fans of the song and were trying to get Henry and June signed to Touch and Go Records. Some cat named Jack White, who had a little band called The White Stripes, also was a big Henry and June fan and began covering “Going Back to Memphis” in concert.

“We were kind of a hot, cult thing on the scene in Detroit,” says Wilson, thanking the Glass City Cafe waitress as she refills his coffee. “Jack White wasn’t the only cool person in Detroit who knew who we were though, of course, he became the most famous one. Judah Bower of the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion put out a cover of the single on his side project called 20 Miles. I heard The Von Bondies used to cover ‘Going Back to Memphis.’ It’s a really fun, simple, dumb song.”

And then right when things started to go well for Henry & June, it all went wrong. The blues were supposed to feel like freedom and suddenly Wilson and the rest of the band began to feel decidedly trapped.

“Jimmy in particular felt like things were getting stagnant,” says Wilson. “Things were going good for us but it started to feel like we were just going through the motions. It was creative claustrophobia.” And so the band, at its peak, unceremoniously broke up.

“We were just dumb kids. We had no idea what we were doing with our little garage band. Looking back, that may have been the worst decision of my career. But when you’re young and dumb, you don’t realize that; you just think ‘Well, I’ll just do the next thing that comes along.’”

Today, Henry & June is fondly recalled as an early part of the Detroit music resurgence of the latter 20th Century. While The White Stripes, Kid Rock, The Detroit Cobras, and various Detroit rappers, from Eminem to Insane Clown Posse, put the Motor City musically back on the map, Henry and June remains a small part of that legacy. Copies of “Going Back to Memphis” routinely go for more than $100 on eBay, and the song was recorded live by The White Stripes for their DVD concert film, Under Blackpool Lights.

And no, Wilson hasn’t received any royalties. It all worked out for the members of Henry & June, though. Drummer Ben Swank is now the top A&R guy at Third Man Records, Jack White’s label. The band did a well received reunion back in 2010 in Toledo and everyone is still cool with one another. But in rock-n-roll and the blues, time waits for no one, so Wilson was off to new projects and new adventures.

And those adventures would lead to him nearly lose his mind.

On a wing and a Boogloosa Prayer

Brushing off the ashes of Henry & June, Wilson decided to further buckle down and get more “authentically bluesy.” He quickly formed a new band with Ben Swank and guitarist Todd Albright, that went through various names such as Dime Store Glam and Gin Mill Moaners. They sat in for many nights at the long-gone-but-never forgotten Rusty’s Jazz Cafe.

“I was spending all of my disposable income on that watered down whiskey at Rusty’s,” said Wilson. “Rusty’s was an amazing little place.” After a while though, he got restless and decided he would get as real as the blues could get and move to New Orleans.

“I wanted to see if I could live as a street performer,” said Wilson. “I had this rather naïve idea that I could possibly make a living at it in that town. I suspected it was the place on Earth where you might encounter people doing this kind of music.”

So Wilson moved to New Orleans, virtually homeless, busking on the streets of NOLA. Meanwhile, The White Stripes were starting to get their first big taste of international notoriety and began introducing “Going Back to Memphis” to a whole new audience due to their frequent covering of the song in live gigs.

“There I am trying to get lunch money down in New Orleans, and suddenly The White Stripes and the whole Detroit thing started to blow up and I’m trying to be Mr Authenticity down in effing New Orleans,” says Wilson, shaking his head incredulously. “My career is awful. I always zig when I should have zagged.”

But New Orleans proved to be an artistically fruitful time for Wilson. He met true, dyed-in-the-wool blues players who were playing incredible music from their souls. Nobody had record deals or anything that could get in the way of making direct, honest music. Many of these men and women were homeless or living off the grid; something Wilson describes as “an anti-American dream.” He talks enthusiastically and excitedly about that time in his life.

“These were some of the greatest living blues artists. There was a guy named Augie Junior who was simply incredible. I had never heard anything like him. There was this woman named Lisa Driscoll who played the washboard. People called her Ragtime Annie. And…”

Suddenly Wilson stops in mid-sentence and a hollow expression crosses his face. He stands up, sets his coffee cup down, excuses himself with a hurried “I’m gonna step out for a minute” and before uttering another word, he’s left the Glass City Cafe. A few minutes pass and he returns, wiping his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, sitting back down. “It’s just…it’s hard talking about this. I just got a little overwhelmed talking about some of my departed friends.”

He steadies himself with a sip of coffee that’s starting to go cold, as he’s eager to move on to talk about his other great band, Boogaloosa Prayer. Formed after moving back to Maumee fresh off a year in New Orleans, Boogaloosa Prayer, which Wilson says “was one of the best things I ever did artistically” came after stints in short lived bands like The Young Lords, and The Staving Chain.

Boogaloosa Prayer, an aggressive blues rock outfit featuring in part his old friend Jimmy Danger and Maumee drumming legend Todd Swalla, garnered quite a devoted following, playing in both Toledo and Detroit. The band had momentum behind them that recalled the Henry & June days. Then one hot summer night in 2006 at the now-shuttered Mickey Finn’s Pub, Wilson’s demons got the better of him.

Sporting a shaved head and a sickly frame that was skinny even by his normally lithe, sinewy standards, Wilson cracked onstage during the show. He ranted incoherently, couldn’t perform any songs, and couldn’t remember any lyrics. To everyone who was there, it was a harrowing experience.

Today, Wilson is reluctant to talk about the incident but he acknowledges it happened.

“I can say that I had a horrible psychotic breakdown and it had an impact on my life,” says Wilson, a bit guardedly. “At the time I had several severe emotional stressors in my life. A toxic woman in my life was stalking me. I had a business deal that was crushing me under the pressure. Plus, Boogaloosa Prayer was breaking up at the time because Swalla was moving to California. It all led to that time in my life.”

Following his breakdown, Wilson spent some time in a psychiatric ward, and lived in his aunt’s attic as he attempted to rebuild his fragile psyche. He eschewed traditional psychotherapy and refused meds because he’d seen too many of his friends “get hooked on those damned things.” Through a lot of hard work, meditation, and support from his friends, Wilson says he “totally got well again” and he hasn’t had any mental health issues since— thank goodness.

“Losing your sanity really puts a damper on your life.”

Still walkin’ down that road…

Wilson now lives in what he calls “a shack,” though it’s actually a carriage house out on a property in Maumee. The place smells of incense, a bit cramped but cozy abode, filled with guitars, amps, books on Buddhism, and novels by Charles Bukowski. Exactly how you would expect Wilson to live. This is not the living quarters .of a typical 45 year old, but it is definitely the home of a bluesman— and that’s all Wilson ever wanted to be. He plays gigs around the region and works as a “factotum” (his term) helping out family members and friends with projects. He’s completed an album and is currently trying to figure out how to release it. Love? Not interested.

“I have the kind of personality where I just do better alone,” he says simply. He may be alone but he’s not lonely. He has the best friends in the world in his life, even if most of them are dead. Son House. Sonny Boy Williamson. Bo Carter. All those great blues artists of yesteryear he counts as his personal friends, and by playing their music and his own songs inspired by their influence, Wilson is a happy man.

On that cold December day at the Glass City Cafe, Wilson utters a line that captures his essence: “Oh, I’m Dooley Wilson. Don’t mind me.” But, about that, he’s wrong. Mind him. Pay attention to Dooley Wilson. Pay close attention.

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[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #399

“i was raised by the devil’s own kin, taught me that a good time was never a sin”

Do you like wine? NOOOOOOO that shit is gross. Explain the grossest thing that's ever happened to you? Having an infected pilonidal cyst drained. Would you rather go on holiday somewhere warm or somewhere cold? Cold, for sure. What would be your ideal pet? I reeeeaaaally want a very visibly sunset morph ball python one day. The really pretty ones are expensive as fuck, but omg, I want one so badly. What was the last book you were required to read for school? The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. It was fantastic. Would you chew somebody else's gum? EW FUCK NO. What was the last type of meat you ate? Chicken. How old were you when you had your first kiss? 16. At what age would you allow your kids to dye their hair? Whenever they wanted, as long as a professional did it. Which fast food place do you eat at the most? Probably McDonald's. Bats are not spooky or are they? I adore bats. Do you like the song "Womanizer?" Unabashedly, yes, haha. I love the beat and it's really catchy. Do you know how to change a tire? Nope. How big is your backyard? Very small. What is your favorite Nintendo 64 game? I've actually never played a Nintendo 64. If you want children, what are some of your reasons for wanting them? I don't want any. Does a career in finance sound interesting to you? Absolutely not. When you cook a dish that has beans in it, do you prefer to use canned or dry beans? I. HATE. Beans. What’s something that makes absolutely zero sense to you? Those that deny the existence of dinosaurs. Fossils don't lie. Do you like strawberry shortcake? No. What’s your favorite dessert? That's so hard, but probably cheesecake. What’s the last you got out of the freezer? Vanilla ice cream. Do you know anybody who is ambidextrous? Sara. Have you ever been 4-wheeling? Yes. Will you be attending any weddings in the near future? No. If you have glasses, have you ever smashed them? No. What was the last thing you got a really good deal on? My APAP mask. Insurance covered it way more than even the women in the office were used to so had to look into it. Insurance has been nice to me lately, from TMS to this. What was the last reason you took medicine? I had a massive headache. Any important birthdays coming up? My older sister's was today, and her eldest daughter's is in two days. Mark's birthday is the 28th, and that's like a holiday in my book lmao. What colour are your headphones? These earplugs are pink. How do you express your creativity? I mostly write RP and rarely poems. I also like to draw sometimes, and I'm big into photography. Gypsies or gnomes? Gypsies. Dragons or fairies? Dragons are my favorite mythological creatures. Elves or pixies? Elves. Where is your favourite place to get breakfast? Maybe Cracker Barrel? Or Waffle House. What was the first sport you learned how to play? I want to say soccer. I hated it. Nickname you’re called the most? "Britt" is the most used. Do you sleep on your stomach? I can't now with my mask. -_- That's how I usually slept. Have you ever been called a bitch? Yes. Would you ever want a super-realistic baby doll? Fuuuuuuuuuck no. I don't like dolls, never mind realistic ones. Ladybugs or bumblebees? Ladybugs. <3 What is the best thing that ever happened to you? My first round of a partial hospitalization program and meeting my psychiatrist. Both that therapy and proper medication is the reason I'm alive. What is something really hurtful someone you love has said to you? That I was an "ungrateful bitch." What Facebook groups have you found the most helpful? One for advanced ball python husbandry. There are some SERIOUS elitists in there, but it does have great information. Did your mom ever own a typewriter? I think she did? We used to have one, so. What would you have your bridesmaids wear? Maybe orange. I want to wear a black dress and get married in the fall, so, Halloween vibes! :') Where do you want to go on your honeymoon? I think Alaska. Do you wear a watch every day? I never do. Have you ever personally been a victim of homophobia? No, thankfully. Not yet, anyway. Do you think you’d be happier if you had a pet? I am much happier with pets. Were you ever hospitalized as a little kid? No. Have you been hurt more by friend break-ups or romantic break-ups? Romantic ones. Who is/was the best friend you have ever had? Sara. Do you own a trenchcoat? No, but I wish. They're badass. Name the hardiest piece of technology you own? My iPod that I've had since middle school. That bitch STILL works, and I use it heavily. Are you currently in a smoking environment? No; people aren't allowed to smoke in our house. Have you ever owned a tire swing? No. Does anyone you know own a bird that can talk? My old friend Alex did. I don't know if I can call her my "friend" anymore because I haven't seen or heard from her in well over a year at the bare minimum. Do you ever not speak to someone because you’re afraid you’ll annoy them? STORY OF MY LIFE. Is there any drama going on in your circle of friends? No. But I don't really have a "circle" of friends to begin with. Have you ever lost your luggage at an airport? No. Have you ever been on a rollercoaster that actually scared you? I don't go on rollercoasters. If given the opportunity, would you act in a commercial? No. Do you believe in finders keepers in most situations? No. How many pills do you currently take a day? Ugh... Now keep in mind this number encompasses medications that I just have to take a larger dose of that particular med; I don't take this number of different prescriptions. AS a whole though, I take uhhh. Somewhere around nine or ten in the morning, and six at night. I might be off about my morning pills. What do you take medication for? Bipolarity and depression, anxiety, OCD, severe heartburn, even more intense nightmares, uhhh... maybe I'm forgetting others? Idk, man. I'm on too many. Have you ever had a bag stolen? No. What class from high school did you love the most? Art. What class did you hate the most? Economics. If you don’t have a car, do you wish you did? Not at this very moment, because it'd be useless as I don't currently drive. Have you ever had a job you loved? Nope. What, if anything, do you substitute for fries? I just eat normal fries when they're offered. Have you ever been in a building that was on fire? No. Have you ever written a poem for someone? At least twice. Have you been best friends with someone of a different race? Yes. Who’s the last person who cussed you out in anger? I think only my grandmother has done that. Who is the person you are closest to that you’ve meet online? Sara. Have you friended your parents on FB? Mom, yes, while Dad doesn't have one. What do you absolutely have to have to make your birthday feel special? My family. Mice or roaches? I love mice, but roaches creep me out. Have you ever received a gift and truly did not know what it was? Yes. A family friend is good at that. Is there anyone whose grave you visit? No. Do you like being in pictures? NO. Do you travel a lot? Not at all. Have you ever eaten a dog treat? No. I've eaten a guinea pig treat though, haha. And it wasn't awful. Have you ever wanted to get drunk and get your mind off everything? Yes, but turns out my alcohol tolerance is too high while only liking weak alcohol to begin with. Have you played cards recently? No. Is there a certain song you like to headbang to? I don't do that, I'd get way too dizzy, and besides, I don't want a headache. Anything you might be giving up on soon? I've been wondering if I should (for the most part) abandon human photography. I've lost so much passion for it, and besides, I feel like I'm going nowhere with it. I know I really, really shouldn't, though. Have you ever captured a moth? I put a caterpillar in one of those little plastic habitats once as a kid that grew into a moth. I then released it, of course. When was the last time you changed your picture on Facebook? It's been months. Do you have a really fat cat? No, he's healthy. Do your initials spell a word? No. Have you ever made a business card for yourself? No. Did you love playing hide and seek as a kid? Yes, that was my favorite! Are there any recipes you have memorized? No. Do you know your multiplication times tables? No. Do your parents allow you to have your privacy? Yes. Have you ever been severely burned? No. Did you ever dream that you had a baby? I've had many, actually. Guess with who. What was the weirdest thing you've ever seen cross the road? I want to say a turkey? Or maybe it was beside the road.