#(she is here at the ungodly hour of 9am)

[undefeatablesin]

Pls enjoy a wip from the mega sketch batch for now because I am not normal about Good Hunter Ruza ever ✨️

[seizethedre]

(In the Land of Gods and Monsters)

Chapter Three: Shoot it Up Straight to the Heart, Please

Lucifer's life is good, real good.

That is, until one of Charlie's bonding exercises throws millennia of resolve out the window.

Despite being known as the King of Hell, there wasn’t much that Lucifer would complain about, and even less that could really bring him down these days. God’s favorite fallen from grace? Old news. Oh, your wife left you? Fuck off. Most hated being in existence? Heard that  before. Sad little man who holes himself away in his workshop making rubber ducks all day? Yeah, that one is pretty new, but life wasn’t all bad these days, depression be damned.

In fact, his days of late spent at the new and improved Hazbin Hotel were pretty peachy. He got to see his daughter whenever he wanted, granted that she wasn’t off on one of her very-busy-and-important errands, the people were lively to put it mildly, and he had to admit that it was nice to be somewhere other than the palace for once. Oh, and did he mention that he got to see his daughter whenever he wanted? Now that was the real kicker, the proverbial cherry on top.

Let’s be real here, Lucifer didn’t exactly have the best rack record when it came to his blossoming relationship with happiness. In the many, many, many years since his arrival in hell, there hadn’t been much to be happy about. Of course, for a while he’d had Lilith and for a great portion of his eternal damnation, she had brought him a lot of comfort. It was nice to have company in this foreign wasteland and it was nice to have someone familiar that he could depend on, someone who reminded him of the goodness of home, even if that reminder was a morsel at best. But as hell grew and the population of sinners exploded, the burden of his punishment grew to be overwhelming. After all, although Lucifer had fallen, he was still in possession of those softer, angelic qualities which had set him apart in heaven and it was hard for him to be stuck in a place where everyone was cold and callous and razor-sharp around the edges. 

Still, Lucifer could never bring himself to regret his decision to rebel against heaven’s plans. Despite the way things had ended between them, he still stood behind the principles of free will and freedom that had drawn him to Lilith’s adventurous spirit in the Garden. She had changed him for the better, and opened his eyes to a reality that could be so much more than blindly accepting and carrying out the orders to fulfill someone else’s dreams. So as much as it hurt to be cast out of heaven and ripped away from the only family and home he had ever known, there was some good to come out of it. I mean, without all of that, he would never have had Charlie, and if life was hardly worth living before she was born, then her existence now only served to remind him that goodness and blessings can be found in any place and happen to anyone, even if they happen to be fallen seraphim turned king of hell. In the endless gloom of damnation, his daughter was a shining light. A breath of cool, crisp, fresh air amidst the suffocating stench of sulfur and brimstone. 

See, Lucifer was always one to count his blessings–-you know, except for those few millennia where he wallowed in self-pity and did anything but count his blessings. But, if there was one lesson he was beginning to grasp from Charlie’s group therapy sessions it was that it wouldn’t do anyone any good to dwell in the past. And, sure, maybe he was terrible at putting that particular ideology to practice, but you don’t become the most hated being in existence by picking up good, healthy habits. But damn him twice over if he wasn’t going to try. 

Which was just the thought that had dragged the monarch from the soft, warm comfort of his bed and down all those stairs until he was sat in the front parlor with a steaming cup of coffee at the ungodly (ha!) hour of 9am–-which, let’s be real, wasn’t that early but due to recent circumstances, and by that he meant emotional strain of the depressed variety, he was a little out of practice waking up before noon. Still, trying to make light of the situation, Lucifer found himself taking inventory of the things that maybe weren’t too bad at the moment. 

The seat he was on was comfy–courtesy of his own remedial creation at the time of the hotel’s reconstruction, please hold the applause. The coffee was still hot with steam rising lazily from his mug and was surprisingly good, which led him to believe that someone had beat Charlie to the coffee pot this morning, and hello wasn’t that just another win for Lucifer. Which, okay, he loved Charlie, truly he did, but for all her many talents and good intentions, the woman couldn’t brew a decent pot of coffee to save her life. Lucifer was, and he can only assume that the rest of the hotel’s inhabitants would agree with him, just thankful that Charlie’s schedule was often so jam-packed that making coffee wasn’t exactly near the top of her to-do list for the day. 

Nevertheless, each sip of precious bean juice seemed to lift the heaviness away from his eyes and grease the cogs of his mind into gear. It was a painless way of easing into the day, and although he had skipped breakfast in lieu of milking his sleep for a few more precious moments, he found he didn’t miss the meal all that much, but hey, maybe that could be chalked up to him being an angel and therefore not needing to rely on things like food to keep him alive and kicking. 

Don’t get him wrong, he loved to eat just as much as he loved to sleep, but those were mainly habits he had picked up throughout the centuries to help establish some form of routine to help keep track of time. They were ultimately unnecessary, but at this point they served to be more like odd little comforts that made him feel a little bit more like everyone else. And hey, if they weren’t hurting anyone, why stop now?

So Lucifer took his time sipping his coffee while looking around the room. The bartender was sitting on an adjacent chair nearby with crossed arms. His face was uninterested, but from what Lucifer could tell that wasn’t exactly surprising or new for the guy. He seemed like a no-nonsense kind of man and was not one for small talk–-a fact that Lucifer definitely didn’t find out via an awkward conversation that consisted of a lot of bad one-liners and forced laughter, haha nope, because that would be embarrassing–-but Lucifer could respect the man’s desire to remain unbothered. The only indication he gave that he was at least somewhat paying attention to what was going on was the constant flick of his eyes towards the middle of the room.

Lucifer followed his line of sight to where the tall spider guy was busy holding back the housekeeper with his lowest set of arms while lifting what looked to be a knife high up above his head and out of reach. He had to hand it to her, that little woman was giving one hell of a fight and Lucifer was oddly terrified by the manic expression in her eye as she waved her arms furiously trying to swat away at the other’s. He was lost to whatever situation had led to their current position, but he was suddenly grateful that the spider was in possession of the dangerous sharp object and not her. After all, he had seen just how crafty she could be with a knife and he wasn’t too keen on receiving another demonstration so soon. A grimace flashed across his face and he shuddered at the memory of a shish-kebabed Adam.

Charlie's girlfriend-–Maggie, he thinks it is, and oh father he really has to put more effort into learning people’s names, doesn’t he-–is rifling through a box of what looks like craft supplies, pulling out markers and scissors, glue of both the plain and glitter variety, as well as colored construction paper and string. The thought of arts and crafts time lifted his spirits considerably, dare he say it made him positively giddy, and he mentally high-fived himself for leaving his depression den this morning. It had been a while since he flexed his creative genius, aside from the occasional duck or two (or twenty), of course. Plus, anything that his sweet little girl had planned was sure to be a good time, or at the very least entertaining with all of these colorful characters around.

Speaking of Charlie, he could hear her coming down the hall now, all bright voice and bubbly enthusiasm. He smiled fondly at her animated inflection, her passion infectious. He found himself thankful once more that he had decided to move into the hotel to be closer to her. Their relationship had already taken a dramatic turn for the better, and while it hadn’t improved in the leaps and bounds that he had hoped for, Lucifer recognized that any progress towards mending the rift between them was good progress, and he wouldn’t try to rush the healing process. 

Lucifer was happy, that much he could say with complete confidence, and he’d be damned if he allowed the occasional bout of melancholy to stand between the bond he was striving to rebuild with his daughter. 

Charlie turned into the room and immediately Lucifer was beaming at the sight of her. That is, until he noticed who was trailing just behind her, smug smile on his smug little face as Charlie laughed at something that he said, and no Lucifer was not bothered at all that she was too busy focusing on that spindly-legged bastard to notice that her father had arrived on-time to the bonding exercise she had planned because he, the King of Hell himself, was not petty enough to let something as insignificant as a mere sinner grate on his nerves. 

Except, okay, maybe he was a little peeved that Charlie didn’t even look his way as the pair strode in together all chummy banter and cheshire grins. He wasn’t expecting an award for showing up, but showing up to these things was hard for Lucifer, especially after having isolated himself to a literal tower for so many years, and at least an acknowledgment of his efforts would have been appreciated. 

Let it go, Lucifer. This is about Charlie, not you.

He quickly schooled his features into something mild and patient, ever the epitome of a caring and supportive father. He probably would have let the whole ordeal go, too, albeit a bit begrudgingly, had he not noticed the deliberate shift of the demon’s head in his direction as he sat down on the opposite end of the couch that Lucifer found himself on, turning just enough that he caught Lucifer’s eye for a split second and boy was that more than enough time for that little grin to sharpen just a bit at the corners, eyes squinting at him in malicious glee. Fucking asshole.

And, okay, Lucifer liked to think that after several eons of life he was a master of keeping his emotions in check, the poster child for emotional maturity, but something about this guy in particular made his blood boil . He’d known cocky, arrogant sinners like him for millennia, but none had ever quite literally ruffled his feathers quite like this creepy red guy had. 

Honestly, Lucifer deserved an award, or maybe even every award, for maintaining his composure and his seat instead of leaping over the coffee table and throttling the unholy hell out of the sinner like he wanted to. Something told him that obliterating this guy out of existence wouldn’t exactly aid with this whole bond-repairing thing he’s trying for with Charlie, especially since she seemed to be fond of him for some father-forsaken reason.  Lucifer could only hope that the demon would tire of the hotel eventually and leave him and his daughter alone and in peace. Wishful thinking, probably, but hey, Lucifer had always been a dreamer.

“Alrighty everyone!” Charlie clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention and commenced with the morning’s activities. “Good morning, so glad each of you could join us today!” She beamed, aiming that smile at every single person in the parlor before continuing with the morning announcement as well as general housekeeping items. Lucifer remarked, not for the first time, on just how good his daughter was. Her compassion and genuine care and love for her people baffled him in the sweetest way possible and it filled him with immense pride to know that her gentle spirit had prevailed in spite of the general awfulness of hell. Plus, Charlie was strong, which was something that Lucifer wouldn't necessarily say about himself these days. It was a characteristic uniquely her own. But in a lot of ways she was so much like him–-or the old him , he should say–-but Lucifer was quick to nip that train of thought right on the bud, lest it send him careening down thoughts that would send him promptly portaling his way back into the confines of his depression den. 

“And lastly, don’t forget that we will be hosting an Open House brunch in a few weeks to try and encourage new residents for the hotel. Make sure you invite all of your friends, it’s going to be so much fun! Now, onto this morning’s activity. We will be trying out a new bonding and friendship-building activity. Vaggie, take it away!” How Charlie’s enthusiasm never seemed to falter was a miracle all on its own, but it made Lucifer smile fondly at her nonetheless. Vaggie stepped right up, stiff and stern as ever, but clearly trying to come across as warm and welcoming as a smile struggled across her face.

“Hello guys. As you all know, after the Extermination a few months ago, the hotel was able to gain some attention from the media. This has been great for us and in the time since rebuilding we’ve managed to see a lot more interest from the public, especially from those seeking to give redemption a chance. This is good news, obviously, and we want to make sure we keep this momentum going. That being said,” she paused and drew  a breath as she seemed to brace herself. “It’s important for us to maintain a good public image. We want people to see us as a united and cohesive unit, a place where we protect one another and embody the virtues of our cause. To put it bluntly: we need to make sure we’re all getting along .”

The room went silent as she finished speaking and Lucifer was pretty sure he could literally hear a pin drop. Even the psycho cleaning lady had stopped in her struggle against the spider to stare across the room at something. Huh, wasn’t that just odd. Except she wasn’t the only one glancing across the room. At least the others were being a bit more subtle about it, but it was obvious that everyone’s eyes were trained specifically on the couch in the middle of the parlor, where two people were sitting, Lucifer specifically being one of those people and the Radio Demon being the other. And, oh, that’s who Vaggie had been indirectly directing that statement towards. 

Well, shit. Now would be a fantastic time for that portal to show up, swallow him whole, and spit him back out in his room. 

It took an embarrassing amount of willpower not to physically shrink under their gazes, but at least Lucifer had the decency to look at least a little ashamed of his behavior. From the other end of the couch a quick blip of static spiked through the air as the red-haired demon rose with a flourish. 

“Why, that seems to me like a splendid idea! A good reputation means everything these days. Once lost in the court of public opinion, it’s almost impossible to regain favor, take it from someone who understands just how ruthless the demands of the media can be.” The smug pull of the demon’s mouth dripped with false sincerity and Lucifer was definitely winning those awards now as he fought the urge to smack it right off of his face. Emotional maturity? Nope, never heard of it. Luckily Charlie stepped in, father bless her a million times over for always knowing when to do so, and Lucifer satisfied his irritation with a twitch of his eye and a scowl.

“I’m sure there’s a lot we can learn from you, Al, and that experience will definitely come in handy going forward. But as Vaggie was getting to, we think it would benefit all of us if we kept up with trust-building exercises. After all, there’s still so much that we can learn from one another–-stories, secrets, dreams-–and by keeping these exercises consistent, we can ensure that we’re all helping each other reach our goals and fulfill our potential. So, who’s excited for friendship posters!” Charlie held up a crude drawing of, and he meant to offense by this, what appeared to be a very misshapen, perhaps abstract Vaggie. The subject was really only identifiable by the scribble of wings and tell-tale ‘X’ over one side of her face.

“So the plan here is that we’re all going to draw names to determine who we’ll be spotlighting. Then, we're all going to go ahead and draw the person as we see them through our own eyes and in the margins we’ll add little details and qualities that we notice and admire about them.” She pointed along to the little blurbs of writing and arrows coming off of her picture of Vaggie as she spoke, but Lucifer didn’t miss the odd glittery hearts strewn about here and there, too. 

“Try to be genuine here, people. This is all about being honest and vulnerable with yourselves and building a relationship of trust between you and the person you choose. No superficiality and no sex jokes, Angel .” Vaggie punctuated her interjection with a pair of folded arms and a stern glare towards the spider boy. Angel simply shrugged and crossed one of his own set of arms, fluffing his hair with the other two. 

“I say if you got it, flaunt it. I don’t got a praise kink or nothing, but I don’t see the harm in giving a compliment now and then when I think someone deserves it. But fine, fine. I’ll keep things PG-13 today, doll.”

“Wonderful!” Charlie exclaimed, whipping out a bowl with folded little squares that Lucifer assumed had their names written on them. “Now, if there are no questions about the activity, let’s get started!”

Charlie made her way around the small circle, holding out the bowl patiently as everyone picked a piece of paper. Lucifer would be one of the last to pick, it appeared, but that didn’t bother him. What are the chances he would pick Charlie’s name? He was too busy wracking his brain for what he actually knew about these people to keep track of where the bowl was in the room. That is, until a certain voice to his side spoke up.

“Oh my, it would appear I’ve drawn my own name.” The Radio Demon tutted, accompanying the sound with a quick warble of static.

“Oh, that’s okay, Al. Vaggie and I still haven’t picked, so there should be a few names left in there if you want to draw another one. I’ll hold onto that until then.” Charlie took back the scrap he’d originally chosen, folding it back into a little square while the demon took his time choosing another one. And really, did he have to take so long? There were only three pieces left to choose from, his own excluded. Father, what a pretentious prick.

Finally, finally , he pulled one out, unfolded it neatly, and read the name. If he was displeased by his choice he didn’t show it, and Lucifer decided then and there never to challenge the guy to a game of poker. Yeesh. 

The bowl was in front of him now and he couldn’t ignore the little spike of anxiety that shimmied up his spine as he watched Charlie drop the other demon’s name back in before mixing around the remaining scraps. Father, please, he hoped he didn’t pull his name. Of course if by some cruel twist of fate he did end up pulling his name he wouldn’t be petty and refuse–-this was a good idea after all, and Lucifer was determined to support his daughter in any way possible–-Lucifer would just rather not give the man any more material to feed the insatiable beast that was his massive ego.

Taking the plunge, Lucifer reached into the bowl and plucked one of the pieces. He brought it close to his face and unfolded it.

Please don’t say Alastor. Please don’t say Alastor. Please don’t say Alastor. Please don’t say Alas–

Oh, it said Vaggie. There it was, in neat little swooping letters spelled V-A-G-G-I-E. Wasn’t that nice? He knew Vaggie-not-Maggie well enough and he released the breath he had been holding, a feeling of relieved contentment easing over him as he got to brainstorming. 

This would be fun.

He took his time listing out all of the qualities he admired about his fellow angel. Anyone who loved and supported his little girl was more than okay by his standards, but the fact that Vaggie had shown so much commitment to the Hotel and Charlie’s dreams catapulted her to the very top of his favorite-people-who-aren’t-Charlie list. Plus, the girl was resilient, he had to admit. To defect from Heaven wasn’t easy, and Vaggie had to navigate this world all on her own when she first arrived. Sure she was a little rough around the edges, but it was clear as day that her heart was in the right place. Hell, she was practically family and Lucifer was more than eager to demonstrate his gratitude for her with this little art project that he was working on.

He only cut off the list after he’d run out of scribble room on the back of his first page, he’d focus on narrowing it down to the sentimental mushy bits later on. In the meantime, he  flexed his hand in preparation for the real art to begin. 

With another flourish of his wrist, Lucifer conjured up his sketchbook from his room upstairs. Although he usually reserved it for his personal projects, duck-related and otherwise–-Lucifer did in fact have other hobbies aside from duck making-–he figured the occasion called for something a little finer than construction paper. Who knows, maybe Vaggie would frame it? Maybe it would be displayed at their wedding, or hung up in their bedroom, or–

“Is something the matter, your Majesty?” A  snide voice asked from the other end of the couch. Alastor was perched neatly on his side of the seat, pencil gripped tightly between his fingers. Briefly, Lucifer thought about sneaking a peek at what the sinner ws drawing, catch a glimpse of the poor soul who would undoubtedly be receiving a myriad of backhanded compliments and indirect insults from the demon, but the clipboard he was working on was angled secretly away from Lucifer’s wandering eyes.

“Peachy,” he responded dryly, so not interested in anything that the sinner had to say.

“Then may I ask why you seem more jittery than a hare on a hot sidewalk?” Fuck the awards, Lucifer was about to tear this guy a new one, mouth open and poised for the verbal abuse begging to finally be unleashed when he noticed something that immediately threw sand all over that emotional fire.

His leg was bouncing against the floor, foot thumping consistently against the carpet. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it, but now that he considered it, the sound of his heel repeatedly striking was maybe kind of a little bit annoying, probably more so for someone with sensitive hearing like Alastor who only sat a few feet away.

I’d gladly shove my heel somewhere else , he thought with a scowl as he immediately ceased the tapping, grouchy that he was called out by Alastor of all people. Pushing his boiling emotions down to a simmer, Lucifer ignored the self-satisfied smile that quirked over the sinner’s mouth and tried to tune him out entirely as he went back to focusing  on his drawing of Vaggie.

With enough concentration, Lucifer lost himself in his craft. He hadn’t exactly felt inspired in a long time, but this was just the task he needed to find his rhythm and get back into the groove of things. Sure he was literally created to create things, but sometimes it was just hard to do. Being at the hotel had done him so much good, more than he could ever express. Between designing, reconstructing, and decorating, Lucifer had slowly but surely begun to rekindle his passion for making things. Sketching was an excellent extension of that passion. 

Sure, he could always snap his fingers and conjure up a drawing of Vaggie, perfect in every detail down to every strand of hair, but doing it himself allowed for a certain slowness to take over. It reminded him to breathe and remain in the moment. It was creation in its simplest form. Fruition born from thought and intention. It was comforting, and oddly therapeutic and Lucifer made a mental note to bring up the possibility of including art therapy on the list of activities the hotel offered its residents. 

He had just been working on the finishing touches, blurring some harsh lines here and adding some shadows there, when Charlie clapped her hands from her spot in the front of the room.

“Okay guys, let’s go ahead and share what we’ve come up with! Dad, as our resident artist, why don’t you go first and then Vaggie and I will go next and we’ll work our way around the rest of the circle from there. Sound good?” And how could Lucifer ever disagree when she was staring up at him all starry-eyed and encouraging smile. Swallowing down the sudden spike of anxiety that bore through him, the angel shifted in his seat, pulling himself straight. He fiddled with the sketchbook, holding it tightly to his chest while clearing his throat. He was stalling and he knew it, but he was suddenly feeling very shy and he wasn’t even sure why.

Okay Lucifer, you got this.

Mental pep talk complete, he cleared his throat again before looking up and around the faces at the room. He should have felt insulted that most looked bored at best, but it made the whole ordeal seem less intimidating. He squared his shoulders and smiled.

“I pulled Vaggie’s name,” he announced, turning his sketchbook over to show everyone the piece he had created. And if he felt his cheeks burn a little at the stunned  gasp that left his daughter then no one had to know. 

“Vaggie,” he continued, “I would just like to express how deeply I admire your strength and your resilience. It’s not easy whipping this bunch into order, myself included, but you lead with integrity and confidence. More than anything, I admire your loyalty to those you love and the way you cherish my little girl. I chose to draw you the way I see you; beautiful and fierce, but gentle where it matters most. Sorry I left out your spear, but I think you stand out even without it." He chuckled awkwardly as he noticed the stares he was getting, suddenly self- aware under the weight of them. "Um, well, I won’t say too much more because I’m afraid I’ll start crying, but welcome to the family!” Lucifer wrapped up his little speech with a watery smile. Across from him, Vaggie didn’t look much better.

“Thank you, sir. That means a lot, especially coming from you.” She smiled shyly, ducking her head as though trying to completely hide behind her fringe. Beside her, Charlie had both of her arms wrapped around her girlfriend, clinging to her as tear after tear welled and fell from her eyes. It wasn’t surprising to anyone in the room to see the princess in such a state, and her sensitivity had been inherited from her father, after all. 

 “Dad,” she wailed, “that was so sweet!” Charlie was full on sobbing at that point and Vaggie just patted her head comfortingly while she waited for her partner to pull it together. Lucifer felt a little sheepish now. He hadn’t expected to make such a spectacle. Carefully, he  tore the picture from his sketchbook and handed it over to the angel. She received the gift gently, her eyes expressing that which her words couldn’t. That look said enough, though, and Lucifer wouldn’t push for more. Noticing that Charlie was still compromised and eager to shift the attention to someone else, he went ahead and coughed out an awkward laugh.

“So, who’s next?”

They went around the circle, one by one, each of them sharing the pictures they had drawn of the person they picked. It was clear that some took the task more seriously than others, but the atmosphere was light and the overall vibe in the parlor was relaxed and friendly as the crowd laughed at poorly drawn pictures and swapped fond memories of one another–-and yes, leave it to Angel Dust to find a way to slip in a sex joke or two despite Vaggie’s warning. No one seemed to care though, everyone had accepted a long time ago that raunchy jokes were just a part of who he was. Lucifer supposed that everyone in the room had their own weird quirks and maybe even  a loose screw or two, himself especially, but it seemed that these flaws only served to foster a sense of camaraderie between all of them. A particularly witty quip from the bartender, Husk, had Lucifer throwing his head back with laughter and, okay, this guy was so much funnier than he let on, and it occurred to him very quickly, but very clearly that what they had created, what Charlie had created, felt very much like a little family. The thought warmed his chest.

“Oh! Guys we’re not done yet, we still have one more to do.” Charlie straightened her jacket, turning eagerly to face the final patron and the hotel’s very own host. Everyone else’s games followed. Alastor’s permanent grin widened fractionally, though Lucifer swore he could  make out a tightness to it that he couldn’t quite place.

“Thank you Charlie, my dear. Much appreciated. Now, let’s see here…” Looking as composed as ever, Lucifer watched as the demon reached one clawed hand into his coat, taking his sweet time as he pulled a folded sheet from his pocket and neatly pulled it apart. From somewhere in the room, he heard someone give a low, exasperated sigh and his intuition told him it probably came from Husk and honestly, same. Alastor dragged his eyes lazily across his drawing as though the guy hadn’t drawn it himself and knew exactly what was on there already. Lucifer resisted the urge to start tapping his feet again. Drawing a breath, the demon spoke up.

“As luck would have it, I had the esteemed honor of portraying his Majesty for this little bonding exercise of ours. Quite an honor indeed.” Okay, wow, Lucifer wasn’t sure just how to feel about that. Mentally, he was preparing himself for a grisly depiction of him being roasted on a spit or flayed alive, but such gruesome thoughts were promptly forgotten when Alastor reached out one of his long arms to hand Lucifer the drawing he’d made.

It hadn’t escaped his notice that the sinner had broken their little unspoken tradition of showing off the drawing to the group before handing it to their likeness, but Lucifer was hardly in a position to argue when he looked down at the man’s artwork.

It was surprisingly tasteful, Lucifer would admit if only to himself. He had been expecting some crude drawing or a half-assed attempt, maybe even a stick figure at most, but this was just– wow . He had known that Alastor liked to draw, had caught him doodling once or twice on the odd day that things at the hotel were slower than usual, but he didn’t know that the guy could draw . He had captured his likeness well enough, drawing him from about mid-torso up. He was smiling, close-lipped but relaxed. His face looked happy, fond even, and it struck him that Alastor must have portrayed him in one of the moments that he was listening to Charlie because he really only ever wore that look when he was around her. The realization made his cheeks flush and his ears burn, the thumping of his heart suddenly going a little wonky and off-beat for a second or two. He tried to reign it in and regain some composure before anyone-–and by anyone, he meant Angel–-could ask about the sudden change in his composure, but the best he could do was school his expression into a mild smile and polite indifference. 

“We all know that his Majesty is rather powerful, which is, of course, perhaps the most admirable quality of his. I suppose he was also useful during the Extermination, though he did take his time to join in the fight. Helpful nonetheless. One could even say that his ambition is to thank for all of us being here today, do with that information what you will.” Alastor crossed his legs neatly, indicating he was done. Okay, back to being an asshole, Lucifer concluded with an annoyed frown. Was that supposed to be a compliment, or an insult? Knowing the animosity between them, it was probably meant as a dig towards him, smug bastard. Nevertheless, he folded the drawing Alastor had given him back into a neat little square and tucked it into his own coat pocket for safekeeping. 

“Thanks,” he muttered. See, he could be the bigger person. Charlie must be very proud of him.

“The pleasure is all mine, your Majesty. Now, if this riveting little meeting of ours is adjourned, I must be on my way.” The demon rose, brushing himself free from the nonexistent dust on his clothes and turned on his heel, walking promptly towards the entryway. “Ta ta!” he called out just as he rounded the corner, flashing one final, toothy grin at the crowd before disappearing into the shadows.

“What the fuck was that,” Angel said, dumbfounded. He wasn’t the only one, as a quick look around the room confirmed that everyone seemed to be feeling varying degrees of shock, disbelief, and in Niffty’s case, amusement.

What the fuck indeed . The drawing in his pocket felt burning where it sat against his chest and for some reason--some father-damn, crazy, insane reason–Lucifer felt a small pang of regret. 

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[jarvis-cockhead]

roughly 6 years ago i went to a gallery to see an exhibition of old british childrens TV- bagpuss, the clangers, etc. at the same time there was an exhibition of black and white photographs from the 70s of every day things which the photographer correctly predicted would eventually become interesting. in here i came across a photo of a girl standing next to a door in a plain looking room and 14 year old me decided she was the most incredible person id ever seen and i instantly fell in love for the very first time. fast forward to now and i recalled this one evening while procrastinating an assignment at 4am and went hunting through my google photos for the aforementioned incredible girl image because i know id downloaded it and lo and behold it was there. and from there i started scrolling upwards past memories and memories (and horribly cringe stuff id downloaded from tumblr at the time but we ignore that). and there i saw, march 2016, an inexplicable photo of an unopened rare sylvanian family set- the fisher cat family- which id taken on my parents bed. instant confusion. i loved sylvanian families growing up and id recently got back into them, so the moment it was no longer an ungodly hour of the night (id ended up staying up until around 9am) i texted my mum asking if she knew anything. she said she didnt know but shed have a look after she finished her breakfast, that she doesnt remember giving them away, but no promises. and then i heard nothing. i came home from uni that weekend and asked my dad if theyd been found and his non response was immediately suspicious- so they had, then. i was told id ruined the surprise- i thought oh, my mum was waiting to show me herself. oh well, ill just tell her what happened. i tell her and it turns out the surprise in question was 14 years old. the fisher cats were released in the UK in 2009, and they were bought for a christmas or birthday but i never got them because by then id stopped playing with sylvanians, so they were put away to be sold. my mum never sold them- and instead decided to save them for when theyd be appreciated again. shes known about them this whole time. now im 20, im rediscovering my love for sylvanians, and her opportunity has come. shes going away for the entirety of may- my birthday month- and decided theyd be a really nice surprise to leave me. ... that would be if id not, by chance, stumbled across a photo of them from 7 years ago. i cant bring myself to blame the girl in the photo- i have no idea who she is, and shes certainly not to blame for my horrible procrastination. but it did lead me to disappointing my poor mother and crushing her excitement. not that i had any way of knowing, of course. ill see them in a few months and ill be thankful of them while shes away. ill miss her a lot. mum, im sorry.

[lost-in-sokovia]

girl i need more dad!ransom. the CUTEST dad on the planet. pls can you write something super fluffy and lovey because i feel like he’d want to be so involved with his children and cherish them at all times🥺🥺🥺 thankyou ily!!🤍

thank you love, i hope you enjoy!🥰

The bed was empty when you woke up. Your tired eyes looked around in a daze for your boyfriend who was nowhere to be seen. You were slightly upset, hoping to be woken up by at least a kiss or something. You rolled over and rubbed your eyes, opening them widely to see sun peaking out from the cracks in the blackout curtains. You exhaled heavily and sat up.

You heard the muffled sound of Ransom’s voice then a loud squeal from your daughter, Vienna. You chuckled under your breath, shaking your head as you glanced at the time; 9AM. Your six year old had a reputation for waking up at an ungodly hour for breakfast, specifically pancakes. Ransom, being the amazing and involved father he is, would always wake up for his baby and attend to any needs she had.

You heaved yourself off the bed and stalked over to the window and opened the curtains, squeezing your eyes shut as light flooded the room. You turned around and slowly walked out of your master bedroom and down the stairs to meet your boyfriend and daughter. You smelled Vienna’s favorite food as your stomach growled, hoping they saved extras.

You heard the two of them in deep conversation and you paused, still out of eyesight, to try and listen. “...’cause Jacob said something about you ‘knocking on’ mommy and that’s how babies are born? Could you do that again, because I want a baby sister,” Vienna asked. You held back appalled laughter, knowing she meant “knocking up.” “Well how about we don’t listen to Jacob anymore because he’s silly, and I’ll see what I can do, okay? Babies are a lot of hard work, but luckily you were cute.” Ransom replied as he stroked Vienna’s chestnut locks.

You walked into the room and found the two of them still in pajamas as they sat at the table eating pancakes. Your daughter waved enthusiastically and Ransom smiled, his blue eyes sparking in the sunlight. He moved his daughter off his lap before walking over and kissing you. “Morning sleepyhead,” he greeted softly and you smiled against his lips. “So are we talking about babies in here?” You asked as you pulled away. Ransom laughed lightly and shook his head. “In my defense she brought it up, and I know damn well I’m not letting her talk to my Nazi cousin again...” he muttered. You smiled as you felt small arms wrap around your legs and you looked down up smile at your beaming daughter.

“Hi baby!” You said happily, picking her up and kissing her cheek. She smiled and stared at you with bright blue eyes, just like Ransom’s. “Mommy I want a baby sister, okay?” She said surely. You laughed and glanced at Ransom who winked.

“Daddy and I will talk about it, okay?”

“Well Daddy has already made his decision...”

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

Tea & Nursery

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Punk!Jaskier x Punk!Valdo (platonic) Word Count: 2,068 Rating: G Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak​ @whatevermonkey​ @mynamesoundslikesherlock​ @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @writingstudent​ @mlleecrivaine​ @coffee-and-stories​ @ultracolorfulnerdcollection​ a/n: The idea of Valdo designing the nursery room came to mind and wouldn’t let me go until I wrote it so here we have a thoroughly self and Joz indulgent fic.

Whoever was ringing the doorbell at the ungodly hour of – Jaskier checked his watch – 9am was going to be murdered on the spot. Usually he would have been awake by now anyway but so-called morning sickness (all-day-long sickness more like it) had kept you up late and Jaskier had stayed awake with you despite your protests, holding back your hair and rubbing your hair until you’d finally fallen asleep around 4 in the morning. Jaskier had fallen out of bed and thrown on a nearby t-shirt, not caring about putting on pants because frankly whoever tried to greet him right now could just deal with his boxers. He was stubbly and bleary eyed and his hair stood up in all different directions and when he opened the door to find Valdo fucking Marx standing there looking like a newly sculpted Grecian god, it took everything he had not to slam the door right back in his face.

Valdo slid the sunglasses up into his perfectly coiled curls and fixed Jaskier with an assessing, almost concerned look. His emerald green eyes scanned Jaskier up and down and he sighed dramatically.

“Gods, Jaskier, I thought Y/N was the pregnant one but look at you,” he intoned.

“Give me one good reason you’re on my doorstep right now. With a truck behind you. A moving truck. Valdo…” Jaskier’s face paled as he tried to think of any reason in the cosmos Valdo Marx would be moving into your home.

“Oh unclench, I’m here to help you actually. Just think of me as your Fairy Godmother. Well, the baby’s fairy godmother. This is mostly about her after all,” he explained, turning to gesture to the drivers who got out and went to open the truck.

“Valdo I’m so tired just tell me what the hell is going on,” Jaskier said.

“I’ve brought the crib,” Valdo announced.

“We have a crib.”

“You have a death trap. Aevryn told me about that thing and I looked it up with the model number and did you know that they had a recall on it twenty years ago?” Valdo said the words aghast and though Jaskier wanted to be annoyed with him, he had to admit he hadn’t known and it bothered him.

“Twenty years is a long time,” he argued. Valdo blinked at him a few times and decided to let that slide.

“I have done some research and found that the best, safest cribs are handcrafted by a man in Norway who actually cuts down the trees himself to ensure that the lumber is sturdy and then hauls it back. He only makes one crib a year. This one was supposed to go to some Duchess or other but I paid them off. The last thing the world needs are more royals anyway,” Valdo sniffed. Jaskier opened his mouth to protest but then he looked behind Valdo and saw the movers unload the most gorgeous crib he’d ever seen. It was a dark shade and had just enough filigree to be decorative on the outside without making it look pretentious, or dangerous. He could tell it was heavy as the men strained to lift it onto the dolly and Valdo watched Jaskier’s face with a smug look of satisfaction, and a little bit of genuine pride.

“Which way to the nursery, then?” he asked.

“Uh… well, we’re planning on moving Y/N’s study to a room down here and turning that into the nursery since it’s close to our room,” Jaskier replied.

“You don’t have the nursery y- Ok. No, this is ok. I can work with this. It puts us a bit farther behind than intended but this is fine,” Valdo said quickly, pulling his phone out and sending some hurried and texts. Jaskier eyed the men still hoisting the crib out.

“Should we, uh, tell them to come back later or…?”

“Oh, yes that will need to be stored back in the truth before the paint has dried,” Valdo answered.

“We don’t know what color we’re going to paint it yet,” Jaskier explained.

“Oh, don’t be silly I’ve seen Y/N’s Pinterest board and you’re going back and forth between what is essentially the same shade of blue. You’re both wrong, though. It’s going to be lavender. I’ve already sent some swatches to Yennefer to choose,” Valdo said quickly, waving a hand dismissively at Jaskier’s concerns.

“Well I don’t think you get to – oh,” Jaskier’s protests were cut short by Valdo turning the phone around so he could see the shade that had been chosen. It was a gorgeous berry shade that tinged just a bit more purple for a pale, frothy pinkish lavender shade that was perfect.

“Now I know you’ve been considering some sort of animal theme but that’s a bit played out. What about something more… dramatic,” Valdo asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“Dramatic?”

“Specifically, Shakespearean. I’m picturing something like a take on A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Not plastering fairies everywhere but making it look like the sort of place Titania would happily inhabit,” Valdo explained, pulling up a Pinterest board that was under Aevryn’s name but Jaskier suspected strongly Valdo had crafted himself.

“Listen,” Valdo said, resting a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder and fixing him with a pitying look, “I know this whole… baby business is exhausting. I have some skills and I would like to offer them.”

“Why?” Jaskier asked, delicately extracting Valdo’s hand, cool blue eyes fixing him with a suspicious look.

“I meant what I said last year,” Valdo said, face growing serious, “I want to make this work. Aev and I are happy but part of that happiness depends on some degree of civility between the two of us. Aevryn is going to be an Aunt and as my intended, that will make me Uncle. Or at least, I’d hope it would.”

“Just… come in and have some tea,” Jaskier said, unwilling to face any more of this before he’d had his morning cuppa. Valdo smiled, mouth widening into a broad grin that lit up his eyes and he gestured to the movers before following Jaskier into the house.

“They can have some too,” Jaskier said, gesturing to the movers.

“Oh they can have theirs later. I have to show you more of the ideas,” Valdo insisted. The two men sat perched up at the breakfast nook, looking through more pictures on Valdo’s phone as he explained his vision.

“Now that craftsman doesn’t make any rocking chairs, sadly, but I found a Nepalese woman and the order is ready to be placed the moment you say go,” Valdo said.

“Say go for what?” you asked, shuffling into the kitchen in a robe, hair still plaited, a testament to Jaskier’s ability with braids.

“You should have told me you needed something I would have brought it to you,” Jaskier said, jumping down from his seat and hurrying over to you. You rolled your eyes and patted his arm.

“Babe I’m not even in the second trimester, I can still move around. Morning Valdo. And anyway I wanted to make coffee and I know how you f- Valdo?” you spun in shock and he gave you a smile and a little wave. You glanced back at Jaskier with a questioning look and he shook his head.

“Aevryn sends her love. She would’ve been here but frankly she suspected there may be fireworks and wanted to stay out of it. Plus she had a recording scheduled,” Valdo explained.

“Well you’re always welcome here Valdo but… what are you doing here?” you asked. Valdo preened at your standing invitation as Jaskier gave you a wide-eyed look of despair that you pointedly ignored.

“I’ve come to help you set up the nursery!” he explained. He’d been a tiny bit worried, despite his bravado, that you’d be upset or feel that he was encroaching. As an only child in a family that wasn’t very close, Valdo wasn’t quire sure how all of this worked but he was desperate to learn. Relief washed over him when he saw you perk up and smile.

“Really?” you asked.

“Yes!” Valdo replied eagerly, crossing the kitchen to show you the board as Jaskier instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Oh and the best part is that of course I’m just providing the base but then you two can fill it with what you want. I thought it might be nice to get an item from everyone in your family, something old or new, that you can add to the nursery. Aev wants to paint the mural we talked about. Yennefer mentioned an old teddy bear and I think Geralt was joking about offering a knife but honestly who can say,” Valdo explained.

“What about you?” you asked. He blinked up at you in surprise.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“What will your item be?” you clarified.

“Well, I mean, I’m going to help paint and there’s the crib but… I thought that the items should come from family,” Valdo explained.

“Yes, I know,” you said, “So what item will you be providing?”

You saw the bottle green eyes grow glossy for a moment before he coughed and blinked the tears away and then tossed his head back, making a big show of thinking.

“The crib is beautiful,” Jaskier offered, “That alone-”

“No, I’ll bring something,” Valdo insisted, “That’s just furniture. She’ll have something of mine.”

“Good,” you said with a nod, moving to get your (tragically decaf) coffee, “Because Uncle Valdo isn’t getting out of Sam duty.”

Valdo wasn’t sure what to react to first, hearing himself referred to as Uncle Valdo or the first mention of her name. You’d both been very quiet about what you were calling her. Valdo knew Aevryn hadn’t heard it, let alone Geralt or Yennefer.

“Sam?” he asked.

“Oh fuck,” you said, turning to Jaskier who shook his head reassuringly.

“It’s ok,” he said, “Tell him. But,” he addressed Valdo as he said this, “No one can know.”

“Of course! I am the spirit of indiscretion! Now, what is the little princess’s name to be?” he asked.

“Aksamitka Geralta Pankratz,” you announced.

“Aksamitka… Geralta… that is… a mouthful,” he said.

“Bold words coming from a Valdo,” Jaskier snapped.

“Back down, Papa Bear, it’s not a criticism. Does Geralt know?”

“Nobody knows. Except you, now,” Jaskier said meaningfully.

“I will keep the secret to my grave. Well, presumably by the time she’s born you’ll tell people what to call her and I suppose by then it’s fair game,” Valdo joked.

“I’m gonna go lay down again but thank you Valdo,” you said, moving in to give him a hug. Valdo was still learning how to give hugs, still a little awkward and unpracticed, but he was getting better. You made sure to give him practice every time he came over and you suspected by the time Sam was here he’d be a pro. Jaskier gave you a kiss and when he offered to come up with you, you reassured him you were fine and the two men were left in the kitchen together.

“Alright, well you need to put on pants and probably shower and generally become a human and by the time you’re ready the supplies should be here,” Valdo announced, helping himself to the kettle of hot water Jaskier had prepared for his tea, rifling through their tea collection with a critical eye. Jaskier opened his mouth to protest but remembered your excited face when you’d heard he was there to help and Aevryn’s face popped into his head, that hopeful look she’d given him when he’d agreed to try and be civil with Valdo. He was surrounded by women, from his childhood to his adulthood and even unborn, who prompted him to try with this man and damn if he didn’t love them all enough to try.

“Any mug but the blue one,” he said before leaving the room. Valdo nodded in agreement and as soon as Jaskier was out of sight he plucked the blue one out of the cupboard and fixed himself a cup of tea with a mischievous little smile on his lips, making a mental note to buy them a better sampling of tea. He was going to be coming around a lot in the future, after all. The least he could ask for was a proper cup of tea.

[xiubaek-13]

Unusual Suspects

Prompt: Minseok (feat Baekhyun, sorrynotsorry) + “You taste like fucking candy.” + “You heard me. Take it off.”

Setting/AU: Vampire

Warnings: it’s kind of a crack drabble, mentions of blood & death, supernatural themes, swearing, standard vampire stuff, implied smut.

Word Count: 2,366

A/N: Again, sorry this took so long anon, I hope you enjoy it. The idea was originally going to be a witch/wizard au but the vampire one came to me after seeing this prompt and I kept laughing about it so I had to make it happen. 

***

  Knock knock.

You groan from underneath the pillow you’d put over your head in an attempt to block out the incessant knocking at your front door. Who the fuck door knocks at this time of night? You sleepily grabbed your phone, the screen illuminating, temporarily blinding you while showing you the ungodly hour of 3am.

    Knock knock.

Three in the fucking morning. You had no missed calls, unread messages or anything to indicate that someone needed you, and really, if they needed you then odds were that they also knew where your spare key was kept and would just let themselves in.

    Knock knock.

You threw the covers off in a huff, half asleep, barely human and 100% pissed off - like a cat when it has to have a bath. You got up and stumbled to the door, your equilibrium not quite caught up to the fact that your body was upright and moving. You did pretty well to only fall into the wall twice.  

Your hair was a mess and you probably had drool on your face but those were things that alert people considered, not abruptly awoken in the middle of the goddamned night people. Those people only had three thoughts - Do I need to pee? Who do I kill for waking me? And Can I go back to sleep now?. You flung the door open - again, alert people would probably have some sense of self preservation and maybe not open the door at 3am to complete strangers - and grumpily sized up the two people in front of you. Why the fuck did they look so pleasant and AWAKE? The two men in front of you seemed pleasantly surprised that you’d opened the door.

They didn’t look at you like they’d spent the better part of fifteen minutes knocking on your front door, no they looked like the picture perfect missionaries who usually woke you up (at a much more reasonable hour of 8 or 9am). One wore white, the other wore black. Both had black hair, styled more than your standard missionary would have theirs but who knew what the hell these two did given they were knocking on your goddamned door at 3am, maybe they were a bit vain, you didn’t care. They looked rather harmless to you in your current state. The only thing that stood out were their eyes, those were far too intense for your standard missionaries, even your barely awake, murderous self could see that. Still, there were people knocking on your door at 3am who looked poised to try and sell you on the word of god and you were not having it. Jesus would want you to be well rested if he expected you to follow the thou shalt not murder commandment.

All you wanted was to go back to bed and be left alone. 3am was not  time for a conversation on your doorstep. You wanted them gone, the sooner the better. “Seriously, what the hell do yo-”

The one in white smiled sweetly at you as he stepped forward and asked. “Hello! Do you have a minute to talk about Dracula?”

You couldn’t believe you were about to shut down the messengers of god this early in the morning but here you were. Normally you played along then gave some witty remark about making a deal with a crossroads demon or telling them that you were actually the antichrist, or that you were waiting for your human sacrifice to turn up. Those were always post coffee conversations, when your wit was less bitchy. These two weren’t getting any of that treatment today. No, you were going to keep it short and sweet. A simple ‘no’ then you could close the door and go back to bed. “No- wait, Dracula?” Well that was unexpected. It did explain the stupid hour of the day though.

“Yes!” The one in black stepped forward as well, smiling warmly, happy that you’d basically recanted your rejection of their presence.

“You’re vampires?” You asked. You weren’t quite awake enough to remember two very, very important things. 1. Vampires were not real and 2. If they were by some weird twist of fate, actually real vampires, then you most definitely should not invite them in. You should close the door, go back to bed and sleep it off. You didn’t do that though, instead opting to rub your eyes and take a proper look at these alleged vampires. The one in white was slightly taller than the other. He had broad shoulders, dark tousled hair, khol lined eyes & a lean body. Everything about him appealed to you, which made sense if you were to believe that he was a creature of the night. You could happily ogle him for hours but you mind reminded you that a) it was rude to stare and b) there was another man for you to roam your eyes over. You stared at him unabashedly which didn’t seem to unnerve him, if anything it interested him. He was only slightly taller than you, with dark hair that fell into his feline eyes, which were also lined, but with a smoky red liner. His black shirt clung to him and you could see that whilst he wasn’t as tall as his partner, he was muscular.

As you stared at the two men the one in black smirked at you and spoke softly. “Yes. We have pamphlets.” As he spoke the other held out one of the aforementioned pamphlets in his delicate fingers. This whole encounter so far was utterly ludicrous.

You took it from him and flipped it over in your hands, confused as the logical part of your brain tried to get through to you. “Vampires have missionaries?” The concept seemed utterly stupid. Vampires were the fictional beasts from gothic horror. They were entities with powers that were almost unmatched, not quiet door to door missionaries like the pair standing in front of you. Still, you had questions. Even if they were scamming you, they had piqued your interest.

“Where else would new vampires come from?” The taller of the two asked, cocking his head to the side as he laughed lightly at your question like you were the one saying crazy outlandish things.

“I assumed you bit people.” You shrugged. If you were to believe the tales from your childhood, vampires - still fictional - created more of their kind by biting someone and draining them of their blood, and once the person was at death’s door they fed them some of their blood. Then they let them die. Once the victim died the blood in their system would raise them as a new baby vampire. The stories were always like this, some small variations existed here and there but what do semantics matter when the whole concept is fictional?

The shorter one frowned slightly at your response and nodded, clasping his hands behind him. “There are many harmful stereotypes. May we come in?”

“I guess.” Was your stupid answer, stupid because had you been more awake or even remotely concerned for your safety you would have never let two strangers into your home during the day, let alone at 3 in the goddamned morning. But the words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them. Not even five minutes ago you’d been ready to tell whoever was at your door exactly where they could go and/or what implement to shove up their own ass so that you could get yourself back into bed and back to sleep but here you were, stepping aside to let the two men (whose names you hadn’t bothered to ask because manners were also apparently not a thing right now) enter your home.

You led them to your kitchen and started to pour yourself a glass of juice. “Should I offer either of you a drink or is that a little on the nose?”

The taller one laughed and shook his head. “And she’s funny at 3am, I like her.”

“I must apologise for my partner. He appears to have forgotten his manners. My name is Xiumin & this is Baekhyun.” He inclined his head towards his partner who just seemed happy to be indoors.

“We don’t usually get this far to be honest. People usually say some rather crude things to us.” Baekhyun looked around the room, his eyes shining. “You have a lovely home.”

“Thanks? It’s a mess right now but it’s super early or super late, who the hell knows, and I wasn’t expecting guests.” You stifle a yawn as you vaguely gesture around the room.

Xiumin stepped forward, drawing your attention back to him. His sharp gaze held you in your spot as he smirked and closed the gap between the two of you. “You know, you really should be more careful. Letting two complete strangers into your home at any hour is a risk but in the dead of the night after they told you they were vampires? That’s downright stupid.”

You froze as you finally realised the position you were in. Whilst they weren’t hulking muscle pigs you were outnumbered and you were pretty sure they were still stronger than you. “The vampire thing is a joke though, right?” You half heartedly laughed. “I mean they aren’t real…”

You turned your head as you heard Baekhyun chuckle from across the room as he inspected some of the photos you had pinned to a board. He paused with a photo of you and your best friend in his hands and looked at you, his eyes darker and more menacing than before. “Oh my dear, vampires are very real. We’ve just had to amend our methods of conversion over the years.” Your eyes widened in fear as you spotted his fangs as he spoke. “We figured it worked so well for the church over the years, so why not try it. We increase both our numbers and our real estate portfolio for every home we’re invited into.”

You were scared, there was no point in denying that fact, but the more time you spent with the two of them, the more comfortable you felt in their presence. The longer they spoke to you, the less terrified you became. You figured you’d try to keep them talking until that fear subsided a bit more. Then you’d be able to work out a way out of this, negotiate with them or something.

You kept them talking, asking their answers to other common stereotypes associated with vampires. You figured they’d have to have them in case someone didn’t let them into their home but still wanted to talk. Their answers were so well formulated and convincing that it almost undid the two and a half decades of fear mongering you’d been fed. Almost. Twenty minutes later, you were still terrified and fearing for your life. You didn’t want to die yet, you still had recipes you wanted to make and what good were they if you couldn’t stomach food anymore? Would animals hate you if you were a vampire? You’d sooner die and have that be it than live out an existence where every dog and cat hated you.

You must have given a voice to those fears because you heard Baekhyun chuckle again as he moved back across the room towards you. “You shouldn’t be scared little one.” Xiumin sighed as he continued to stare at you. “We’ve been watching you and think that you’d make the perfect addition to our little family. I promise, we’ll let you enjoy your time with us before we turn you. You’re less likely to hate us after if we show you how good one of our kind can make you feel.”

“And who said we have to turn you tonight?” Baekhyun added. “Darling, we have so much planned. We can take our time, work out all of these niggling human concerns of yours.”

Xiumin held your face in his hands. “Tell me no after I kiss you and we’ll turn you now, but if you tell me yes then you’ll have a night that you won’t regret.” He attached his lips to yours. You felt the soft, plush lips against yours and strangely the fear you had started to dissipate. He didn’t force the kiss, seemingly waiting until you either pushed him away or made a move to show him you wanted to continue. Either way, you were going to die tonight. That much had been made clear. The choice had been made and there was no way you were going to be able to fend off two vampires and not die a horribly painful death. In the back of your mind your brain gave you two options, either die now or let them give you pleasure before dying. It even threw in the possibility that you were still dreaming and if you were dreaming then you’d obviously go for the option of sex with two hot vampires.

You settled on throwing caution to the wind, something you’d done a lot tonight, and responded to his movements allowing him to take your bottom lip between his teeth, his tongue swiping along it. He released your lip and kissed you again, this time deepening the kiss. He varied the pressure he applied, giving you soft kisses then deep hungry, breath stealing kisses. When you eventually broke the kiss you were panting as you tried to catch your breath. You meant to ask make a witty comment about how that was a bold move for a missionary but what came out of your mouth was more of a moan than words.

He trailed kisses from your mouth down to your neck, nipping and sucking at your flesh. “You taste like fucking candy.” He groaned into your shoulder as he momentarily stopped himself.

His voice was a low rasp and you thought he’d said something but you were too caught up in how his mouth felt against your skin and didn’t hear him. “Sorry what?”

“You heard me. Take it off.”

[shianhygge-imagines]

[DMC Headcanons] Waking Up with the DMC Crew

AN: Hgggghhhh... I started this headcanon while on the train to work at 6am. Such an ungodly hour to be taking the train because I’m a night owl tbh. Work doesn’t start for me until 9am, so I usually just sit in a cafe and try to write while I have a light breakfast.

It’s a short headcanon.

But I like this job more than I did my previous job, so that’s something.

|Masterlist Link|

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dante

Unless he has a gig, late riser... sometimes he wakes up in the afternoon.

More likely to stay up all night than to wake up early

He’s like me.

It’s ungodly to wake up before 9am

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Trish

Does she even sleep?

Literally can wake up at any time of the day

Sleep at 2am, Wake at 4am? no problem

Could probably sleep through the day if she wanted to

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lady

Early riser. She lives to see that morning sun peeking out over the horizon

Lady doesn’t set an alarm. She just gets up on her own.

How early is early? Waking before 6am

It doesn’t matter how much sleep she got the night beforehand, she’ll be up before the sun rises.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nero and Kyrie

These two lovebirds run on a nice schedule every day if they can

They are awake by 8am most days because they go out of their way to take care of the orphans

Kyrie tends to go to sleep earlier than Nero

Although Nero’s prone to napping when he has nothing to do

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vergil

SLEEP? WUT IS SLEEP?

Like seriously, he’s insane. This man can operate without much sleep at all. Like wtf

Goes to sleep whenever the hell he feels like it. Wakes up whenever he feels like it... and that’s usually at the crack of dawn because why not?

He will never sleep to the afternoon. E.V.E.R

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nico

Nico tends to pull all-nighters because she refuses to put down her projects

This usually means that she’ll just flat out fall asleep in the middle of the day.

She used to have a sleeping schedule... waking at 9am and sleeping after 10pm

...but that all changed when she met Nero and became more enthusiastic about making things that kick demon ass

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

V

Let’s be completely honest here. I think V is a borderline insomniac

I mean he was traumatized enough to have three demon contracts that are the manifestations of said trauma, so I think V gets nightmares every time he tries to go to sleep

He maintains a regular sleeping schedule if he must. Usually in bed by 12am... though he doesn’t fall asleep until the early hours of the morning.

You could probably say that it’s because of the nightmares that he doesn’t fall asleep... but let’s be honest... V was probably reading.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed my work, please consider buying me a Ko-fi!

[grayjmiller]

@lisamorgcn

While it might be a little early for a drink, Grayson didn’t care much for the thoughts of others. She’ll have a mojito anytime she damn well please -- at 9am with her breakfast burrito, or 3am while she worked away on her sewing machine. The bars in Morgan City were nothing like the hustle and bustle of New York City nightlife, but it’ll do. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and the fact that alcohol was dirt cheap around here helped tremendously.

Having to leave her life behind in the Big Apple was hard. She never once intended to return to Morgan City, a place she had long associated with slow misery and empty boredom. Every corner she turned to brought forth a memory that made her unsure of whether to grimace in disgust or laugh nostalgically. It wasn’t like her childhood was terrible -- it just wasn’t an ideal time or place to grow up as a person of color.

The taste of alcohol reminded her of nights in New York meeting strangers at different bars and drunkenly cooking ramen after that. Now? She was in an empty drinking hole somewhere in Louisiana, a glass of flammable liquid in one hand and her dignity in the other. As Grayson scanned the room for other poor souls who would come here at this ungodly hour to drink, someone familiar caught her eye. Rather, it was an ass she definitely remembered.

“Lisa?”

[jodywegner]

A bad day. (I just need to rant into the abyss of the internet)

I’ve never actually left work early for a bad day before. But I felt that today if I didn’t, I’d end up embarrassing myself and ruining all of my relationships with my coworkers or better yet end up in the HR office. It was just an accumulation of a few too many small things that have been building up for months while I’m emotionally vulnerable.

I also know that none of my coworkers will ever see this post. But even if they do, I doubt they were aware of my feelings. The worst part is that nothing is really anyone’s fault. There’s no bad guy, and that makes it all the more frustrating, and that finally came to a head today. Because I can’t chew people out for doing nothing wrong. Sorry for the long post. Lotta resentments getting bottled up.

So context. 1. My grandfather has been in declining health for a while now. This isn’t very upsetting for me. He’s in his mid 90s and lived a full life. We were all provided for and everything is taken care of. For me, it feels more like a natural thing that is now finally happening. My aunt and my father have been fighting for years over different things, but my grandfather’s declining health has definitely rekindled the flames of war. 2. I work in TV animation production, and my goal is to become a storyboard artist. I’ve made that goal clear. I’ve asked for tests but I can never get any. I’ve asked for feedback and no one has given me any. The shining star of this was my boss giving me 5 long minutes of not quite saying “it’s not good enough.” I figured he was busy and didn’t want to hurt my feelings. He did say that if he hadn’t hired our then current revisionist, he’d love to have me start as one. Since then, he’s hired 4 more revisionists who have come and gone for different reasons. 3. I don’t think I draw that fucking bad. I’ve been told my artists I work with “why don’t you have an art job yet?” which the answer is “because no one will fucking give me one when I ask and you guys aren’t in a position to.” (they mean it as a compliment but it just really keeps bringing me down whenever I fail) And there are a lot of people my age getting art jobs while I’m not and yah I’m not that old but it’s very stressful and discouraging regardless of logic and optimism. 4. My intern this last semester showed my boss a sample board and got extensive notes and feedback and was offered freelance revision work even though she’s still a junior in college. She’s 3 years younger than me and was here for 2 months. My boss literally walked into my office then started talking to her in the adjacent cube over the wall about how good she is and the upcoming freelance revisionist work. And I have to sit there quietly and pretend it’s not killing me. 5. I’m lactose intolerant. 6. I guess I’ve been suffering from job related depression for the above reasons. Nothing major, I’m not suicidal, but I’m definitely very unhappy and going to work is definitely not a fun or even neutral experience anymore. It’s hard because the correct answer to my problem is “git gud’ and we all know how NOT FUCKING HELPFUL that is. Today 1. I get a text from my parents at 6 am telling me that my grandfather has passed away. We went over yesterday to say our goodbyes expecting him to pass either today or tomorrow. We left at around 8pm and asked my aunt to call us when he passed and that we’d come over. So my parents find out that he passed away at 6 am today. From a third party that isn’t even FUCKING RELATED TO US. Apparently my grandfather had passed away 10 minutes after we left yesterday, and she decided not to let us know. We had to find out through some other person offering my father his condolences. 2. Well the two coworkers I am closest with were late for miscellaneous reasons so I kinda had to keep #1 bottled up for 2 hours. 3. When things happen, I bluster and storm for the first hour before calming down and becoming rational. So I’m sitting at my desk all morning trying my best to keep my shit together because I’m absolutely fuming and was (forbid) by my mother to retaliate. She’s not wrong but there’s a lotta stress and emotions here. (3.5. Although I was directly forbid retaliation, I still went ahead and planned it anyways because it was a mildly constructive use of my stress. DM me if you want to know how to ruin someone’s entire week and never get caught.) 4. I took some Lactaid 30 minutes before I decided to finish my leftover mac n cheese from the fancy food truck yesterday as breakfast. Yah the Lactaid didn’t work at all for some ungodly reason... It’s 9am and I’m in a lot of pain both physically and emotionally now.... 5. So one of my favored coworkers finally beats traffic and gets in so I go to talk to her about all of this. I immediately get cry-y. Which blah blah blah crying is part of grieving but I can do that later. It’s not great when I’m at work because crying opens up the floodgate of emotions and the near impossible task of re-wrangling them under control is now daunting. Emotional fortitude -50. And people just kinda didn’t notice that I was crying and upset and not very quietly recounting this horrible morning story. They kinda walked right by. Not a single person other than that one coworker (and my other favored one who came in a bit later) offered me any condolences or asked about how I was doing of if I was ok. It’d be one thing if that happened and no one was around and I regained my composure. BUT I DIDN’T. 6. That fucking intern (who’s a nice person but god I wish they’d stop existing in my life. It’s fucking petty but today is really the worst day for it so fuck it I’m saying it.) is coming in for a big storyboard meeting between all the board artists, revisionists, and supervisors. So I had to see her and pretend to smile and be pleasant and supportive while I’m emotionally compromised, grieving, pissed, and now petty and jealous all over again. So I get that out of the way and I sit back down and get to work. 7. The other coworker I like to talk to comes in. She was a former intern who also wants to be a board artist so we try to help each other in our endeavors together. She’s an optimist. She says that she’s going to ask if she can sit in on the meeting and asks if I’d like to come along. Bless her outgoing-ness that I struggle with. But as much as I’d like to... that’s a room full of people who either forgot that I want to be a board artist, don’t care, or are straight up ignoring me about it and keep doing and saying all of these unintentionally hurtful things to and near me. Also that fucking intern is there. Also I’m pissed. Also I’m emotionally distraught. So I declined her offer. Even if I could get something good out of that meeting, I’m pretty sure I would have just had a breakdown in the corner. So I didn’t want to embarrass myself like that or make people feel uncomfortable for doing their normal business. 8. So by this point I’m sure I’m going to be snippy or mean or start crying in front of people, so my goal was to finish my most important task and leave at noon. I finish, I grab my bag to leave. As I do, they all get out of their storyboard meeting and bluster past me because they are now late for seeing the storyboard trainee program final presentations. GREAT. 9. Another production coworker of mine comments on how its important for them to go in case they see anyone they’d like to hire as a revisionist. I fianlly hit FUCKIT and say “IM GOING HOME.” And so I go to walk to the elevators. 10. I chose the wrong time to walk to the elevators because everyone in that meeting is waiting at the elevators to go look at the storyboard trainee presentations and scope out the new talent. They’re in too much of a busy mind to notice that I’m about to cry and am probably glaring with white knuckles as I clutch my bag. Luckily for me the elevator is full and I have an excuse to take the next one and not theirs. A part of me wished that they would say “come on in! i’m sure you can fit!” But... stuff like that never happens with them. No one goes out of their way to include me in things. So... whatever. Maybe I’m just being negative trying to find the bad in every little thing, but this is a rant so I’m going to do just that because fuck the consequences of people liking me and thinking I know how to adult properly. 11. I’m driving home and get a message from my coworker (glanced at a long red dont arrest me pls wait till tomorrow) saying that the intern asked if I had sent her intern evaluation to her school yet. I did. A few weeks ago. This isn’t really a bad thing it’s just that I was finally fucking free and just about to not have any reason to keep it together but then BAM. Intern shows up in my life again. Right after I though it was all over. A little god damn poke. Now So I managed to drive home without crashing into buildings or furiously honking and I am now just holding my cat and typing this. I’m pretty sure none of my coworkers will ever see this. A part of me wishes they would and that maybe they’d care, because I really don’t want to have to start a conversation specifically about all of this with them.    Who the hell starts a conversation with: “By the way boss, can you please stop discussing giving the intern freelance work when I’m within earshot let alone in my god damn 6′x8′ cube?” “Hey boss, remember when I asked you for feedback and got none? Why does the intern get your full attention when you are even busier?” “Hey boss, why have you hired 4 more revisionists when you said that’d you’d love to have me as one? Did you forget? Were you just lying to me because you didn’t know how to give me feedback? Did you even care about what you say to me?” “Hey intern, I understand you are excited and this is a great opportunity for you, but can you please read the room at least a little because I want to cry every single time?” “Hey everyone, I want to be a board artist remember? REMEMBER?” ”Hey everyone... I’m an artist too.” “Hey everyone, can anyone just give me a little help?” ”Hey everyone, if I keep my purse stocked with your allergy medications, pain killers, band aids, digestive relief, girly goods and keep good snacks around and remember your schedules and try to make your jobs easier and serve as your primary IT person...will you remember that I’m here?” “Hey everyone, do you all dislike me or do you all just not care enough to notice me?” They’re all good people, but it’s not stuff that I really know how to say just out of the blue. So today... I just couldn’t stand being even in my own cube anymore. I’m not an outgoing entrepreneurial person who bugs people everyday trying to sell themselves as an artist. I’m someone who tells you my intentions, and asks for help, and then believes people when they tell me sorry they’re busy, that they wish they could help, that they’d love to have me if only not for “x”. No one is entitled to give me a job or help me. But... I don’t get why I’m the only one who gets nothing for a response when I do ask. If they were busy, that’d be fine. But since then things have gotten busier, and my boss personally worked through multiple iterations of my intern’s practice board with her. A good piece of advice I got was that your first 5 tests are awful...but I can’t even get anyone to give me my first one. I’m told to work hard and “git gud”. But it feels like I’m just bashing my head against a brick wall, and no one even acknowledges the effort. It feels like if I decide to stop doing that because I’m about to have a breakdown, I’ll be looked down on as a quitter and not passionate enough. I have passion, but all of this is 100% killing it, and I don’t want to hate art. I really don’t. But I’m starting to. It’s hard for me to enjoy it when now it’s only done to seek attention and approval that I’ll never get from these people. Today would have been difficult still, but not unbearable if not for that. My grandfather’s death isn’t a tragedy for me. He was in pain for a long time and he definitely made the most of his life. The tragedy is that despite all of this, my aunt decided that my family didn’t deserve to know that our grandfather, my father’s father (who lives literally 5 minutes away by car), had passed. I’m definitely not looking forward to the memorial service for my grandfather. Not because the death is hard to deal with but because all of the family there is. Would love to make life terrible for my aunt. Would love to be just as petty. I have so many colorful things to say and do. But ultimately none of that matters. It’s just death. Nothing changes it or adds a new flavor to it. So all of that anger and hurt just kinda snowballed today. And to top it all off as I’m typing this some asshole is beating a dog somewhere in the neighborhood and the dog is screaming and yelping. (called the police so hopefully they find them) Thanks for reading this long negative rant. I hope it helps anyone who is feeling similarly frustrated, because I dont have someone around who’s breaking down quite like I am so this is all I have. Shooting it into the internet in a passive aggressive attempt and chance that maybe someone who needs to read it will. Positive news: I watered my plants with the extra time. I hugged my cat. I will be returning with art for Mermay.

[desperatelyfullforever]

Time for a Badly Written Out Omo Story!

So, remember how I said that I have tons of stories? Well, here’s one.

So, this story is me in marching band. A bit of info: tall dark-skinned girl, with curly hair that reached my shoulders and was often pulled into a puff ball. Tomboy, always wearing sweats/jeans and flannel. On this typical day however, I was not the person in dire need for a toilet. My friend was.

Let’s call her Angie. Tiny Hispanic girl without a lick of an accent unless speaking Spanish. She had long, curly/wavy hair, brown eyes, glasses, and barely stood past 5’0” at this point in time. Average body, she wasn’t overweight but wasn’t skinny either. Just a bit of pudgy belly that’s honestly adorable.

A bit more information about her: Angie typically, by some ungodly reason can go an entire school day without so much as a glance at a bathroom. I would know, I’ve known her for 7 years and she’s only urgently needed one about 6 or 7 times. So, to see her desperate is a godsend.

So, for this story, we were in high school. I’ll add that we’re both instrumentalists and thus played in our school’s marching band, her playing the clarinet while I played the trumpet. We typically did a football game for our high school varsity team once a week, while almost every week we had a competition. Then there were “double-headers”, where we would have both a football game and a competition in one day.

On this day, reporting time was 9am in the morning. Me being the good friend that I am, I call Angie and asked if she wants a coffee, because I’m on my way getting one. She said yes, got her a large. Got to school and she finishes it within ten minutes. No big deal, it was expected. We all arrive and go through today’s agenda: away football game in 2 hours, leave during halftime, arrive at competition, get home by midnight.

Not really surprised, honestly I expect it. Buses get there at 12:30, so we have a bit of time in between after a couple run-throughs. We get food, with her buying an iced tea and a water to wash the sugar out of her mouth. Both the water and tea are gone within an hour, and by the time we’re scheduled to leave we camp out in front of the school, waiting for the buses to arrive.

Did I mention that it’s incredibly hot on this day? Did I also mention how shitty the band uniforms are? Our uniforms are thick enough to trap heat inside in the summer, yet not thick enough to act as insulation in the winter. The band parents pass out water to all of us, Angie grabbing a couple.

Finally, the buses arrive. The school is roughly about a half hour away, and I sit with Angie. Normal conversation, nothing out of the ordinary. It’s at the tail end of the bus ride that I notice her a bit tenser than usual, wincing when zipping up the band uniform (they don’t stretch at all; sitting down in them is a pain because it typically just cuts into your body). “Are you okay?” I asked.

She blushed a bit. “I’m fine.”

I left it at that. Didn’t pry, didn’t ask. We finished changing and after the bus stopped, got off and heading to the game. For away games, we perform before the game unless a special request is made (such as the away team not having a marching band or some sort of halftime show), so we were asked to fill in for them. We warm up and get on the bleachers, not really allowed to play because we’re using the show as our warmup for the competition later that night.

I sit with Angie, and she’s quiet. A lot more than usual. She’s also a lot tenser than earlier, not saying anything and simply keeping to herself. “Are you sure everything’s okay?” I ask.

Allow me to describe the field. It’s fucking huge and a bit of a ways away from the high school, so there’s concession stands and bathroom (read: port-o-potties) on both sides. Today just so happens to be this high school’s Senior Day, so it’s packed with families and whatnot. She’s sweating bullets so, in concern and curiosity, I ask her, “Do you need something to drink?”

She stiffens immediately and vigorously shakes her head before stammering, “No! I mean, I…I’m good. I had a bit of water earlier when we first sat down.”

No, she didn’t. She hadn’t had anything since the bus ride, and I know the large coffee, iced tea, water bottle, and two smaller bottles of water earlier were starting to go through her. So, I decide to be a bit of a bitch and ask, “I had a lot to drink, I’m gonna head to the bathroom. Do you need to go?”

I can’t even begin to tell you how many emotions went through her eyes when I said that, and that right there told me that her bladder was, if not full, at the very least filling up enough to be of mild concern. Part of her wanted to say yes, while the other wanted to stay put. Guess what side won out?

“I’m fine. I don’t need to go.” Lies, but I left it there and went to the bathroom. Admittedly, if she had gone one of us would’ve been shit out of luck because I left to go pee around the middle of the first quarter, and the marching band leaves during the middle of the second quarter to warm up and prepare to march onto the field. I get back right as we are packing up to head onto the track surrounding the field, and Angie looks worse for wear. Typically, she’s a lot more hyper, but right now she’s quiet as hell and keeping to herself.

As we’re walking onto the field the band parents are handing us cups of water to drink before we go onto the field (right now it’s about 85 degrees, or roughly 29 in Celsius) and they won’t let us go until we finish it, so we do. Angie takes hers like it’s a damn shot and chucks the cup in the trash before putting on a face, marching to her section.

So, from that point we’re simply warming up, playing parts of the show, etc. About two minutes left on the scoreboard we stand on the track, waiting for the players to be done with the first half so we can perform. We march on in a block, with it going by grade: seniors, juniors, etc. Angie’s standing next to me, and she’s fidgeting. It looks more like her being impatient, but to the trained eye it’s clear she’s feeling full. She’s shifting from foot to foot just a tad while fiddling with her clarinet.

Finally, we perform, and let me tell you, our show this year had a TON of kneeling, running, etc. Keep in mind earlier I said how our uniforms don’t stretch, so the material digs into your skin. The show is eight minutes long, and after we perform we march off to load the buses immediately and to use the bathroom when we get to the next high school. We get on the bus, and drive to the next school.

Now, this ride is about 45 minutes long. Angie is clearly fidgety; she’s rocking back and forth and has her hands somewhat in her lap. I ask her again if she’s okay and she insists that she is. Then we hit a hard, hard bump and she gasps out loud before clawing at her uniform, saying she’s hot and wants a bit of fresh air before we march again. Okay, fair, I don’t pry.

Halfway there, re run into traffic. She’s being way too obvious at this point, and I simply watch in silence while increasingly growing turned on. We get there an hour later, having barely enough time to get ready to perform. We’re told that we’ll use the bathrooms after, which is not going to end well; we’re the third to last band, so we can’t wander too far because the second band just gets to the sidelines while the last band performs. We quickly put our instruments away and the vast majority of kids haul ass to the bathrooms or getting food. Angie and I are captains, so we straggle behind to make sure everything’s okay with our respective sections. All five of the kids in her section hands her their clarinet so that they can rush to the bathroom (she’s known for never needing the bathroom, so they just assumed), and she’s squirming like hell. Her legs are crossed and she just can’t seep to get comfortable. By this point in time, it’d be stupid to rush to the bathroom because everybody is already in line, so she’d have no chance in getting in one until after the awards.

Finally, everybody comes back. Her section takes their instruments from her, and the second they do I notice her frantically unzip her uniform (it’s two layers, a jacket over an overall-type pants that zip up in the front) and sighing in relief. It’s still warm out, so the band parents once again hand out cups, and she once again chugs it.

Boring part of it is sitting through awards. She sat near family so I didn’t really get a good look at her, but the awards lasted for about 75 minutes before we closed (about 16 bands performed, and there were a lot of awards and scores such as best drumline, best color guard, etc.), so we ended roughly on schedule (we got to the football game before around 1ish, the game started at 2, we performed at 4:30, left at 5:15, got stuck in traffic until 7:30, performed at 8:10ish, last band performed at 10:15, awards started at 10:45, and ran until midnight).

I finally meet up with Angie who’s looking entirely too anxious to leave. “I’m hungry,” she says to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me from the crowd. “Can we get food?”

I know why she wants to go. The bathrooms are right next to the concessions. Luckily, we need to leave right away because it’s so late, so the band parents had already brought food for us to eat. We grab food and drinks and board the bus again. Of course, people are being asses and using chairs as tables for plates so there are less seats. I let Angie sit in my lap as we sit by the window.

In order for both of us to be comfortable I basically wrap my arms around her so that she stays steady, which means putting pressure on her bladder. The moment I do this she winces and crosses her legs tightly (by this point we’re out of uniform, both of us in shorts and a t-shirt). I say nothing for the most part.

About five minutes in, she gets a phone call with her parents asking me to take her home. Sure, I don’t mind. We’re gonna get home after 1 in the morning, so I didn’t mind in the slightest. But that meant waitng even longer, because I typically help unpack everything, and that takes about twenty minutes.

Anyway, another few minutes pass and she begins to tremble on and off. There’s times she’s still yet tense, other times she’s squirming like fuck. She slips a bit after a bump, and I naturally tense my arms to catch her. I push a decent amount on her bladder, and she gasps loudly while grabbing herself.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” I ask. “It looks like you need to…”

“Don’t say anything,” she cuts me off as she rips her hands away. “I’m…fine…” this is said while she’s tense as fuck and rocking back and forth in my lap.

I shrug, smirking. “Do you mind handing me my water, then?”

Of course, that fucks with her hard. She grabs it out of my bag and moans, “Oh, fuck,” from feeling the condensation, tossing it onto the seat next to us. She grabs herself again and wheezes, “Fuck, I need to pee damn it!”

Finally! With her saying it she finally gives in, whimpering while rocking her hips back and forth. She’s grinding into me pretty hard, rubbing against me every so often to work me up pretty damn good. “How much time left before we get to the school?” she whispers.

“About a half hour left.”

That only seems to make her need to go more, as she clutches herself. I sit there, not knowing what to say until a few moments later she goes, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”, grabs my hand and places it over her crotch, pressing her hands over mine while grinding into it.

Cue me overwhelmingly horny and turned on beyond belief at this point. I’d never thought I’d see the day where Angie’s dying for a piss, yet here she is, grinding into my hand while sitting in my lap. Unconsciously, I begin massaging her with the palm of my hand while relishing the sight in front of me.

Allow me to tell you how the hell we didn’t get caught. It was dark as hell inside the bus, and we were near the very back. Plus, the majority of kids were already knocked out from exhaustion. We’d only get caught if someone heard or was looking for it.

Here we are, with her grinding into my moving hand when I feel a spurt against my fingers. She moans and curls into a ball, rocking her hips harder. “Help, please,” she pleads.

Well, she asked.

Instantly I pull her against me even more and tilt her head to mine, kissing her. At first she’s understandably shocked to hell and back, but after a desperate grunt she kisses back. I rub my hand faster against her, making sure to get enough friction through her shorts.

I move from her lips and begin kissing her neck, urging her to keep quiet. She grabs at my legs and cocks her head to the side to give me more access, biting her lip. Did I ever mention that she’s bi, and we’ve had a crush on each other for the longest time? At this point we’ve had unresolved sexual tension like you wouldn’t believe, hence this situation happening like it did.

Anyway, after a lot of heavy petting I decide to risk it and slip my hand underneath her shorts into her slick folds, rubbing her clit while putting a bit of pressure on her bladder to see how she responds. She shivers and grinds harder into my hand, whispering words in Spanish. “Si bebe, no te atrevas a parar.” So, I keep going.

I never fully bring her over the edge because I don’t want her to cum and accidentally lose it, plus it’s just too good to be true for me and I don’t want it to end. By the time we get back to the school she’s leaked a couple more times and can’t keep a hand from between her legs, whether it’s mine or hers. I help pack everything away, with her standing to the side squirming and shuffling around.

I rush a bit and finish five minutes early, hurrying her to the car. Angie lives about ten minutes from the school so it’s not horrible, but right then and there it felt way too short. So, I stop for gas. It’s at this point that she’s on the verge of tears and is frantic as fuck in the car; both hands between her legs, legs moving back and forth, constant crossing and re-crossing, whimpers and moans, and so on. By the time I pull off she gasps again, louder than ever. “I can’t hold it, I’m gonna go, I’m gonna pee!” she whines, looking around as if there’s something she can go in.

“You better not piss in my car,” I warn.

She moans again and rips her shorts down, as if to squat down. “Don’t you fucking dare,” I growl. She finally lifts her shorts back up and continue holding it in, but now I hear steady, sharp leaks. By the time I get her to her house she’s so full it’s insane. She steps out of the car, makes it two steps and the damn bursts. She moans loudly it concerns me, until I notice the HUGE mess. A puddle already is forming, and she looks so relieved.

She takes about two minutes to finish, before inviting me inside and us finally sleeping together. 

[bxebxee]

hey guys, you can blame @daeguk @94hixtape and @joondaily for this! can you believe I have a categorical need to insert too much context for simple things? Occam’s razor? Don’t know her! (also, this whole thing is a cliché but I love clichés)

x

x

x

You’re not exactly sober at 2:30AM when you text your boyfriend to come pick you up from frat party #278. Actually, the text probably reads something like “cone oickme op0” but thankfully, Jungkook knows how to interpret your drunk typos at this ungodly hour of the night. There’s nothing after that text, and he’s grateful that you at least left him with the address before you went out tonight.

He’s greeted with the smell of beer and vomit when he steps into the house. It’s enough to send his stomach churning from Memories of Bad Decisions 2016. Maybe a year ago he’d be into this, but he’s (finally) had his Junior Year Awakening even if you’re not there yet. It’s okay though because he could be patient for you. After all, you had been more than patient waiting for him.

“Thought you weren’t coming!” Mingyu is red-faced and heavy when he collides into Jungkook’s shoulder in a half-hug.

“I’m here to pick up my girlfriend. Know where she is?” Jungkook asks, holding his breath for dear life. Mingyu tries hard to remember because he really wants to help out his bestest buddy in the whole wide world, but he’s beyond drunk, and Jungkook doesn’t want to make his friend think too much in this state. “It’s okay buddy,” he murmurs, patting his unfairly-tall friend. “I’ll find her.”

He navigates his way upstairs towards the second floor, gingerly knocking and opening doors in an attempt to find you, and walks into no less than three, separate instances of frat party hookups. Jungkook’s too tired and preoccupied with you to find any of it interesting. Luckily, he finds you relatively quickly as you exit a bathroom looking a lot less drunk than he expects.

“You came,” you smile, eyes a little gone, but still walking in a straight line. You give him a hug, loving the way he smells normal and safe.

“Of course I did,” he mumbles into your hair.

“Jennie’s getting boned by that guy from her biology class, so I didn’t have a backup ride,” you explain with a cringe, “And I didn’t bring money…” You feel small and irresponsible admitting that to Jungkook, but you’ve learned to be upfront with your shortcomings instead of hiding them in the hopes he wouldn’t think less of you.

Jungkook only kisses your forehead, eyes softening as he takes in your embarrassed state. “You can always call me. You know I’ll be there for you.”

“Can we go to your place? Mom thinks I’m at Jennie’s.”

“You’re 0 for 3 tonight, you know that?” he laughs, taking your hand and leading you out of the hell house. Although he lives with a few other roommates, they’re a lot more understanding of you sleeping over than your mother could ever be of you coming home in this state.

Jungkook, Mister Boyfriend of the Year himself, helps you into his car, taking care not to let your head bump on anything made out of metal or fiberglass, and buckles your seatbelt for you.

“You’re so attractive,” you smile, hearts practically pouring out of your eyes.

“I know,” he hums, shooting you a quick smile before shutting the door and getting into the driver’s seat.

“I’m serious,” you continue as he starts the ignition, completely in love with the way he plays Knight in White T-Shirt. “You’re so hot, and I’d give anything to blow you right now.”

Jungkook wets his lips and puts the car into drive. “Go to sleep,” he tells you, “I’ll carry you out when we get there.”

“Don’t wanna,” you smirk because you’re wide awake, and you’re not that drunk. You spot a new, unopened bottle of water in his cupholder. It’s cold too. Your heart sings as you unscrew the cap to take a sip because he totally put that there for you. And you decide right then and there that Jungkook is so getting laid tonight – or at the very least, sucked.

It’s a short drive back to the place he shares with a few of his friends, and Jungkook is the lucky one with a room all to himself – very convenient for when you want to fuck. You can’t keep your hands off him as he unlocks the door, pressing your entire front into his arm with a flirtatious giggle.

Jungkook shushes you before entering. “They’re sleeping,” he warns you. You roll your eyes and make a motion with your hands like your zipping your lips and throwing away the key. To your credit, you manage control yourself from using your Outdoor Voice until he’s shut the door of his room behind him. Then all bets are off because you’ve wanted to give him the biggest Thank-You blowjob since he picked you up at the frat house.

“You are drunk,” he moans quietly into your mouth when you pull him in roughly for a kiss, not caring too much that you taste like the bitter aftertaste of vodka and fruit juice. It’s a nice taste on you.

You don’t respond immediately, preferring to enjoy the feeling of his arms holding you and the sturdy, muscular planes of his chest. Sometimes it really paid to have a boyfriend as into physical fitness as Jeon Jungkook, even if he did nag at you to eat healthier. You kiss him for a few, blessed seconds more until he pulls away.

“Wash your face, and go to sleep,” Jungkook says, patting you on the head as if you’re some kid. “The cleanser you got me is really good.”

“I don’t wanna sleep, I wanna suck on your cock,” you reply per your usual bluntness. “I’m not that drunk. Most of it’s fading anyway.” That’s partially true because you’re nowhere near shit-faced, but the buzz is still very strong.

Jungkook looks at the clock and it’s just past 3AM. He’s already fucked.

“I wish you’d feel like giving me a blowjob at a more reasonable hour,” he sighs, kissing your neck in begrudging thanks. “Twenty four whole hours in a day and you choose 3AM.”

Your eyes flutter when he drags his teeth on you. “Does that mean it’s a no?” Jungkook’s hand reaches around to grope your ass.

“It’s a yes,” he answers, “But next time…”

You smile brightly - a real, honest-to-goodness, five thousand megawatt smile that has his heart palpitating. Jungkook just has to kiss you then. You run your fingers through his scalp as his mouth slanted over yours works magic. If he kept this up, you’d probably want to fuck instead of just settling for a quick blowjob, so you lead him in flirtatious steps backwards to his bed, playing come-chase-my-lips-if-you-want-it.

Jungkook is sporting a semi by the time you get him to sit on the bed as you peel off his sweats. You adore feeling him warm up your hands, and you tell him just that as you rub your face on his crotch. His thighs twitch underneath your hands as he fidgets.

“You know how much I love doing this, right?” you ask him, mouth running over the cloth covering his penis.

“Then fucking do it already,” he groans, face flushing at the way you look kneeling down in front of him. You watch too much porn for his own health and safety sometimes. He swallows down the wrong pipe when you drool over his briefs, causing a wet spot to appear.

You take pity on Jungkook because it’s already super late, or super early depending on who you asked, and he has a 9AM class. A small stab of guilt touches your heart because you’re not oblivious to everything that happens around you. I’m a bad girlfriend, you acknowledge, Mea fucking culpa. You’d give him a really good suck to make up for it.

Jungkook shivers when you slide off his briefs. Your mouth envelops him almost immediately, and coaxes him into full hardness. You get him worked up too easily, but neither of you are mad about it right now. It’s not long before Jungkook lets a hand get tangled in your hair while you bob your head up and down while quiet sounds of saliva and your swallows fill his ear.

You’re already soaked by the time Jungkook is fully hard in your mouth. If it were a “more reasonable hour” you probably would have just pushed him down and rode him until both of you were satisfied. Still, this isn’t a bad deal when Jungkook looks handsome and perfect while he stares at you in awe. It’s a little pleasing to the ego to have him look so starstruck every time you take him in your mouth.

“Ngh,” he catches a moan that would’ve been too loud. “Oh fuck,” he whispers instead.

Your mouth feels a little tired so you lift off him in squelch, flexing your jaw surreptitiously as you continue jerking him with your hands. Jungkook notices immediately.

“You don’t have to c-continue,” he gasps, “I can finish it off. You must be tired.” As if your heart couldn’t love him more he just had to go saying things like that.

“No,” you say firmly, “Sucking you off makes me happy. It calms me down and helps me sleep. It’s like my personal, penis pacifier.”

Hearing you say that makes Jungkook cringe, but apparently his dick is 1000% into that because he’s harder than ever. He’s torn between laughing or screaming in horror, but heaven help him he’s not limp at all.

“Fuck you,” he groans, hands tightening around your hair as you suck on him once more. “You say the weirdest crap…” It’s not the first time either. You regularly say things that make him pause for a good minute to laugh while fucking.

You make a slight gagging sound with wicked intentions, knowing it how much it gets him off. And like clockwork he hisses, throwing his head back in pleasure. You want to focus on bobbing your head up and down, but the motions actually make you a little nauseous.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, taking your mouth off him to lean your head on his thigh. “Just give me a sec?”

“Take all the time you need, baby,” he wheezes because your hand is still wrapped around his dick.

You breathe slowly trying to get that seasick, woozy feeling out of your system. His thigh made a great pillow.

That’s really the last thing you remember when you pass out.

[lerah-mae-blog]

Residency: TEXTure Weekend, Day 2 (2016)

with John Berkavitch, Si Rawlinson, Shruti Chauhan and Paula Varjack

TEXTure Day 2/2: Saturday, October 30th

The second day started with the group pitching ideas for the Sunday sharing event. Mine involved a vague image of a performance involving shadow play, folley narrative and music shifts. There were a lot of good ideas, from promenade-theatre inspired performances, to interpretive dances with a story, and even leaving control entirely to the audience as members perform on stage.

Sine wave: dynamic shift

A writing exercise: “write something that has a huge dynamic shift, exploring the theme of artistic collaboration. Two things coming together to create something bigger. There must be no flat lines.” (Cue drawings of sine wave graphs to indicate the shift between emotional highs and emotional lows.)

We had twenty minutes to write. Now, I’m the type of writer who takes a while to finish something, even if it’s just a few lines of poetry. I date and time what I write (it’s interesting to see how many poems come out at ungodly hours like 4am or 9am – I’m a night owl.) This time though, with only twenty minutes and after wracking my brain for words that remotely related to ‘two things coming together to create something bigger’, well… it’s something.

I would have posted it here at some point anyway, might as well do that now. After deciphering my hasty scribbles and unintelligible crossings-out:

A lonely observer, a will-o’-the-wisp, a wanderer, a stranger, in pursuit of her whims. She plays with the lights on water, a watcher of dreams, and she hums happily her many hymns. A dreamer, she runs after the sunrise, a game with morning dew; a wanderer, her eyes light up, the Curiosity of old and new. She spins tales into webs, the mythweaver, she writes. And at night, a sleepwalker, her demons she fights.

But despite the Fear and Doubt that whispers in her bones, she knows that the world began beyond – she had always known. The rain will fall, the sun will rise, she knows she will miss home. But she still keeps on walking, keeps writing, she knows nothing is set in stone. With no sky above her head, neither clouds nor blue; the road before her is long, but it will lead home – it’s true.

I love personifying concepts. Rhymes are fun. And I panicked. Something along the lines of Curiosity and Fear ‘coming together to create something bigger’ – two sides of the same coin, kind of…thing. I read Hermann Hesse’s short story collection Strange News from Another Star and Other Tales recently too, so I think that may have seeped into this one. Oh and ‘mythweaver’ is from this:

Once the twenty minutes had passed, we all regrouped. Berkavitch gave feedback after a little warning that his words might be a little bit on the side of harsh.

Harsh or not, they were very useful, gave ideas on different ways a poem or a story can be read and performed. How the little nuances, the slight changes in stress or inflections on certain words, for example, affect the overall narrative or how speeding up and slowing down transforms the tone from hysterical to hesitant. The relationship between audience and performer – is it performative or personal? What do you want the audience to take away from it? Is this the best way to convey information? And anyway, “any choice you make is a good choice, provided you have a reason for it.”

Automatic drawing, flash theatre and a tableau with Paula Varjack

After a short break, we come back to the room. There’s a projector here now, and a black and white photo. A group of people – 1920s era maybe? All dresses and suits and masks. In a semi-circle, we met Paula (performance and video artist).

Automatic-drawing was next. Turning to the person next to us, and with a blank piece of paper, we had to draw each other. Without looking at where the pen lands. Preferably without the pen ever leaving the paper. Needless to say some very interesting and abstract portraits were produced. They were beautiful.

“If you and your art were reviewed, what would be the one word that would hurt the most?” Some of the words were ‘comfortable’, ‘unambitious’, ‘simplistic’, ‘predictable’, ‘meaningless’ – mine was ‘empty’. And then we had to perform a little flash theatre to depict our word.

We then had to create a tableau – in the form of an album cover. While the music changed from hip hop, to upbeat and something with drums. I’m honestly not even sure what kind of music was played that day anymore. But that image will be imprinted in my memory. It was some strange version of a Renaissance painting with a dash of hip hop and spontaneity. (I hope someone took a photo. It truly was a masterpiece.)

Next we watched a music video, Tame Impala – Let it Happen. In three groups, we had to produce a performance in three different styles/perspectives. Abstract, audience participatory and sensory (in utter darkness).

Our group had to involve the audience. What we produced can be likened to the keys in a piano. There were three of us and after writing something short in relation to the music video, we were numbered one to three. This is where the audience comes in – when they shout a number, for example 1, then the person assigned the number 1 would then recite his or her lines. But if another number is shouted, for example 2, before number 1 finished their lines, 1 had to stop. By repeating a number consecutively, the person would be stuck at the beginning of their lines. Like a broken record. Giving the audience complete control had the speakers gasping their lines. It was both satisfying and hilarious to see an idea come to life – or, rather, see an idea take a life of its own.

Fear can be motivation, inspiration. "Get over the fear of an empty stage or an empty page - just go. Just write. Just do."

The last section involved each one of us developing an idea to perform or lead as part of the Sunday showing. Currently still working on my bit, wish me luck!

+

The last two days has been fun, surreal, mad and I rode this high until the end of Monday. Had a presentation on Keats where all I saw was dualities and transience, discussed Turgenev’s novel Fathers and Sons for two hours – threw a metaphor in there somewhere – and started a new collaboration project with the Virgo illustrator (zodiac signs are interesting); a conversation between an artist and a writer. Needless to say the last two days had pulled me out of my writing slump.

My muse is back. Thank you.

- Lerah

+

Thank you to the people who made the two days magical, do check them out. They’re awesome.

John Berkavitch http://www.berkavitch.com/

Si Rawlinson http://waywardthread.co.uk/

Shruti Chauhan http://www.shrutichauhan.com/

Paula Varjack http://www.paulavarjack.com/

Writing East Midlands http://www.writingeastmidlands.co.uk/

UK Young Artists http://www.ukyoungartists.co.uk/

* a special thank you to Jess (@jesstickell) for all the help (and the biscuits and coffee – especially the coffee.)

[rejected-mccree-blog]

morning headcanons

Here are some of my headcanons cuz we need to know who’s grumpy in the morning

Reinhardt wakes up at the ungodly hours of the morning. You will find him happily preparing breakfast and sometimes he’ll even leave the base for a morning walk.

Because of Reapers condition he has a really weird sleeping pattern, like sometimes he’ll keep sleeping till 12 and sometimes he doesn’t sleep at all. But there’s one thing set in stone; no matter when or how you wake him he’s gonna be a really salty and keeps throwing sarcastic comments at everybody.

Genji also wakes up pretty early and usually tries to get some kind of work out before breakfast

76 always sets his alarm at 7am, I wouldn’t describe him as a ray of sunshine in the morning but he isn’t really grumpy either.

Zarya is basically competing with Reinhardt, she always tries to wake up before him but for some reason Reinhardt always wins. She’s quite jolly in the morning.

Mei always sleeps in too late and when she wakes up she’s so stressed that she’s late for things she had planned to do. It’s just really cute. 

Mccree does the same as Mei but the difference between them is that Mccree doesn’t even care about it. He’s also a mess when he wakes  up, like he will even forget to dress up before leaving his room.

Ana wakes up a bit later then 76, she’s kinda quiet in the morning but will still happily engage in conversations.

Pharah tends to sleep until 9am (around that time her mom will wake her and Pharah isn’t too happy about it) Don’t talk to her in the morning, she will probably yell at u.

Tracer is an early bird and she’s LOUD. People often get angry at her cuz she wakes them up way to early.

Widowmaker wakes up at 6am and goes about her business as usual. Probably gets a bit annoyed if the others are still asleep.

Zenyatta doesn’t really need to sleep but he’s trying to. He usually waits for at least two or three people to wake up before he leaves his room.

Like Genji, Hanzo also wakes up quite early to either get a work out or take a walk in the morning. (He’ll probably come across Reinhardt while he’s taking a walk and the two of them will have a conversation idk)

Symmetra wakes up around 8am, probably does some yoga before breakfast.

Junkrat also wakes up early and like tracer he is LOUD. He’s a happy guy but annoys way too many people in the morning. (also it’s his morning ritual to wake up Roadhog by screaming into his ear.)

Like I said Junkrat wakes up Roadhog but that doesn’t keep old Roadie from sleeping. (What I mean is he’ll just sleep anywhere Junkrat takes him, Oh you’re going to the dining area? I’m gonna find a nice corner to  catch some z’s)

D.va has the most fucked up sleeping pattern of them all. Sometimes she won’t sleep for days and sometimes she sleeps for days. D.va will also be a bit grumpy in the morning depending on how you wake her.

Mercy wakes up around 6am and usually prepares breakfast for the others who come to join her  around the same time. She is such a mom.

Torbjorn also wakes up early and he most of the time skips breakfast and immediately starts working. (the others try to get him to eat though)

Lucio usually sleeps till 12 and wakes up telling everybody he needs his beauty sleep. He’s quite cheery in the morning and keeps telling everybody about the dreams he had.

Winston wakes up around the same time as Tracer but he’s just out of it. He also always forgets to put his glasses on in the morning.

Bastion has some kind of sleep mode he’s always put in but wakes up because of his little birdie ticking on his head

[sad-dreamer93]

Scared~ Part 18

"you sure you want to carry her?" I ask Maddie had slept the entire 3 hour plane ride, and was still asleep on Bobby's shoulder.

"I don't mind, she's not used to getting up at ungodly hours of the morning" he says

"I've been doing this 6 years and i'm still not used to it either" I say making them laugh

"I don't think you ever really get used to it, you just learn to deal with it" Adam says

"true. its like dating you, I've just learned to deal with it" the guys bust out laughing. but Adam looks at me and pouts.

"am I really that bad to deal with?" he asks

"of course not. i'm just kidding"

"I thought I was easy to deal with" he says still pretending to be offended

"besides the fact that you snore and hog the bed. you aren't bad"

"God his snoring is horrible" Kyle says which makes me laugh

"atleast I'm not a blanket hog, I don't talk in my sleep, or fight in my sleep" Adam says

"really you went there?" I ask

"okay enough you two" Bobby says

I was slightly annoyed he brought up the fact that I fight in my sleep. I only do that when I have nightmares. which recently have been frequent.

I was happy when we got into the rental car and i could be away from him for a bit. I sat in the back, with Maddie who was still asleep. it was only 9am and we still had a 2 hour drive to the first show.

"there's a Cracker Barrel about 20 minutes away, so we'll stop for breakfast and then head to the venue" Roddy says. he was driving with Adam in the passenger seat.

"thank God, i'm starving" Adam says

"you're always hungry"

"look at whose talking" he says looking back in my direction.

"enough you two" Bobby says again.

did he mean I ate too much? was I getting fat?. I knew one thing. I was going to barely eat breakfast. I focused on Maddie, allowing her to cuddle into my lap for the remainder of the drive. I was glad when we pulled into the Cracker Barrel parking lot. I was already over being in the car, and it had just begun.

"come on Mads, time to eat breakfast" I gently shake her awake

she opens those pretty eyes of hers and yawns.

"sleep good?" i ask. she nods

"how did I get here? last thing I remember was Uncle Bobby picking me up and carrying me at the airport"

"you slept through the whole plane ride, he carried you the whole time. we've only been in the car for 20 minutes"

"oh" she says

"come on let's go eat"

"yay i'm hungry" she says. I walked with her across the parking lot, slowly following behind the boys.

"there she is, enjoy your nap princess?" Bobby asks. she nods

"thank you for carrying me" she says giving him a hug.

"you're welcome sweetheart"

we walked around and looked at the toys while we were waiting to be seated. "look Aunt Liv" she says excitedly showing me one of the toys.

"how about this, if you're good during breakfast, i'll let you pick out one toy and i'll buy it for you"

her eyes lit up "really?" she asks excitedly

"yep, but you have to be good"

she wraps her arms around me and hugs me tightly

"I love you Aunt Liv"

"I love you too Mads"

"awww, how cute" Kyle says

"aren't you a little old to be looking at toys?" I ask

"nope. what's the fun in growing up" he says

"well you and Maddie will get along great, you're both kids"

"i'm not a kid, just an adult that likes to have fun" he says making me laugh

"I still think you'll get along great. she already loves all of you"

"I noticed, and I love her too. she's a cutie" he says

"I know" Maddie chimes in making both of us laugh

"come on Mads, let's go wash our hands before we eat"

"can I go with Uncle Adam?" she asks

"I don't know where he is sweetheart" she sighs and takes my hand as we walk toward the bathroom.

I felt two arms wrap around my waist, I turned around to see Candice

"I've missed you" she says hugging me tightly

"I've missed you too"

"how are you holding up?" she asks

"its been a rough 2 months, but i'm surviving."

"i'm glad, i'm always here for you. you know that right?" she asks. I nod

"thank you, I honestly couldn't have survived without you and Adam"

"you're basically my sister. i'm always going to take care of you, and this little cutie" she says

"Mads, this is Candice, my best friend"

"wow she's pretty" Maddie says

"awww, she's so sweet" Candice says

"well most of the time, unless you wake her up, then she's a little terror"

"I am not" Maddie says very dramatically making both of us laugh

"see what I mean"

"she's cute though, and that makes up for it" Candice says

"true, i'm just glad to be travelling again, and I got to bring her along this trip, and allow her to see some of the country"

"are you going to be bringing her with you all the time?" Candice asks

"we don't know, it just depends on how she does. she'll be starting school in a few weeks too. if she does well, we'll bring her with us until we figure out a plan b. I really don't want to end my career, but if I have to for her I will"

"Johnny and I will help as much as we can, and i'm sure so many others will too" she says

"so everyone has helped so much, she loves the guys. and i'm sure she's going to love Johnny. he's basically just an overgrown child"

"I heard that" he says giving me a hug

"I'm not wrong though" I say which makes them laugh

"babe, come on, our table is ready" Adam says

"i'm catching up with them, i'll come join you soon."

"alright, Maddie want to come with me?" he asks she nods

"take her to the bathroom first, she needs to wash her hands"

he rolls his eyes. "really? you were supposed to do that 20 minutes ago"

"sorry, I've been talking with them and got distracted"

he walks off, taking Maddie with him.

"woah, everything okay between you guys? I've never seen you guys argue like that" Candice says

"I honestly don't know what's wrong with him. he's been grumpy since we got off the plane."

"still though, he's never like that with you around" she says

"I know."

"just remember he hurts you and i'll kill him" she says which makes me laugh

"that makes two of us" Johnny says

"I don't think anything's seriously wrong. I think he's just tired and hungry. once he eats he'll probably be back to normal"

"that boy has never been normal" she says making me laugh

"well, as normal as he gets"

she laughs and hugs me again

"we should head out, but it was good to catch up with you, and i'm sure we'll see you later today at the venue" she says

"I hope so, If he decides to be a jerk after we eat, i'll come find you guys."

"please do, I don't want you to have to deal with him if he's being a jerk"

they hug me one final time before walking away. I walk into the restaurant to find the guys and Maddie. once I spot them, I sat in the only open chair left. of course it had to be next to Adam

"about time you show up" Adam says

"will you stop being a dick"

"language" he says mocking me

"really now you're going to mock me?"

"what the hell is going on between you two this morning" Bobby says

I got up and walked out. I was done. I couldn't handle him anymore. I got into the back on the van, and just sat there. Tears filled my eyes. what did I do wrong? we had always teased each other. but it never lead to him being a jerk.

I laid across the back seat. hoping I would be able to fall asleep before they came back and got into the car. I laid there in silence for a while. until I heard familiar voices approaching the car. I quickly pretended to be asleep. hoping that they would leave me alone.

"guys hush she's sleeping" Kyle says

"she's probably just faking it so we'll leave her alone" Adam says

"dude lay off will you" Bobby says getting annoyed

"i'm being serious, when she doesn't want to talk, or deal with people she pretends to sleep. I think i'd know my girlfriend" he says in a very matter of fact tone.

"keep going the way you have this morning and she won't be your girlfriend for long" Bobby says

"seriously though what happened between you guys to make you argue like that?" Kyle asks

"because i'm dating someone whose extremely insecure" I couldn't believe what he had just said

"dude, you know all she's been through and the last two months have been hard on her" Kyle began

"I've also been nothing but good to her, and she's still insecure. how do you think that makes me feel?" Adam asks

"well if you're a good boyfriend you should want to try to help her. instead of being a jerk about it" Bobby says

"I've tried everything guys. she just doesn't get it" Adam says

"i'm sorry i'm just a broken child who you can't fix. i'm sorry that I've wasted the last 8 months of my life getting to know you and letting you in. you know Adam if you didn't want to deal with me, you should have just broken up with me a long time ago. instead of dragging me along making me think you loved me." I broke down crying. harder than I had cried in the last 8 months

"Liv, I do love you" Adam began

"it doesn't seem like it Adam"

"dude you messed up big time" Roddy says

"Aunt Liv, why are you sad?" Maddie asks curling up next to me

"don't worry about it sweetheart" I say. she hugs me tightly, making me feel slightly better.

I laid there in silence, for a while, I kept my eyes closes. hoping that I would be able to fall asleep, and forget everything that just happened.

I was so glad the car ride from hell was over. I took my bags and walked as quickly as I could to the girls locker room. once I walked in, the girls could see my tear stained cheeks and red eyes from crying so much

"Liv, what's wrong?" Candice asks

"take one guess"

"what the hell did he do?" she asks I could tell she was mad

"after you and Johnny left he kept being a dick, so instead of eating breakfast I went to the car and laid down. pretending to be asleep once they got in. once they started talking about what was going on between us, he called me 'extremely insecure'"

"i'm going to kill him" Ember says

"please do" I say

"I get first hit" Candice says

"guys, you aren't going to hurt him so stop" Shayna says

"what else did he say?" Ember asks

"he said "I've been nothing but good to her and she's still insecure, how do you think that makes me feel? after that I went off. basically telling him i'm sorry i'm a broken insecure child, and that I've wasted 8 months of my life trusting him. I told him that if he felt this way he should have broken up with me instead of making me believe he loved me"

"wow what a dick" Candice says

"but he also said he still loves me"

"how the hell does that make sense?" Ember asks

"I don't know."

"maybe you should talk to him?" Shayna suggests

"great idea. I definitely want another fight"

"maybe you should just hear him out." Shayna says

"or you could kick his sorry butt to the curb" Candice says

"I don't know what I want to do. I feel like talking to him wouldn't be a bad idea. but I also don't want another fight."

I had barely finished the sentence when there was a knock on the door.  Candice walks over to the door and opens it

"what the hell do you want" she says pissed off

"please, let me see Liv, I need to talk to her" Adam says

"you have some nerve showing up here after what you said to her" she says sounding like she was ready to kill him

"please, let me talk to her" he says again

I walked over to the door, hugging Candice before walking out. I followed him outside. we sat down on the side of the building, where we were completely alone. I could already feel the tears coming to my eyes again

"what did you want to talk to me about?" I ask fearing the worst. my voice was already beyond shaky at this point. I could feel my breathing starting to shallow, and my chest start to tighten up.

he held my hand, and turned so he could look at me in my eyes. "I love you Olivia, i'm sorry I've been such a jerk toward you today. I hate how insecure you are because it makes me feel like a terrible boyfriend. like i'm not good enough for you. i'm trying my hardest to help you see yourself through my eyes. and just how perfect you are. I hate seeing you struggle so much, and constantly feel down about yourself"

"You're right Adam, you've been nothing but good to me. and i'm sorry that i'm still insecure about things. but you are far from a terrible boyfriend. every time i'm upset about something you've been right there to pick me up, and hold me. i'm sorry I dragged you into this mess I call my life. but the past 8 months you've shown me hope. you've shown me love. something I never thought I could experience from anyone besides Ethan."

"you never dragged me into your life. I happily came along for the ride. If I didn't want to be here with you through the good times and bad, I never would have asked you on our first date. I never would have kissed you, said I love you, I never would have met Ethan, asked you to move in with me, and I never would have made love to the most beautiful girl on the planet. i'm so sorry Liv, I didn't mean anything bad about you being insecure. I love you for who you are. I fell in love with your natural beauty, that adorable laugh. those gorgeous brown eyes. I fell in love with every single inch of you"

"I love you Adam. i'm glad I've spent the last 8 months with you. you've shown me what love really means. you took a broken scared girl and made her feel loved"

"and I always will. I love you too Olivia" he says happily

he wrapped his arm tightly around me, and gave me a gently sweet kiss.

"I should get back inside, the girls are probably thinking I killed you by now" I say which makes him laugh.

"i'm surprised Bobby didn't earlier" he says

"you should have heard Candice and Ember, they were ready to go find you and kill you"

"I don't blame them though. I deserved it for being a dick" he says

"wanna meet up in catering? I need to eat something. i'm starving"

"of course I do, go let the girls know everything is fine, and i'll meet you there" he says helping me up.

I walked back to the girls locker room, where most of the girls were waiting, ready for me to tell them what happened

"what did he say?" Candice asks

"everything is good. he apologized and explained everything"

"I still can't believe he did that" Ember says

"he explained everything, he said by me always being insecure it makes him feel like a terrible boyfriend, it makes him feel like he's not good enough, and how he wants me to see myself through his eyes."

"aww, that's sweet. but he should have explained that earlier" Candice says

"oh I agree. but, I forgave him. now i'm going to spend time with him in catering because i'm starving"

"I'm glad you worked everything out, now go spend time with your man." Ember says. they each hugged me tightly before I walked back into the hallway. Once I got to catering, I walked to the table where Adam was sitting alone.

"hey gorgeous, I got you a plate" he says pointing to a plate with food on it

"you're the best babe" I kissed his cheek and sat down next to him

"you missed" he says sweetly kissing my lips.

"seriously thank you for making me a plate, you're the best"

"of course love, i have to make sure you eat. especially since you didn't eat this morning" he says

"that was kinda your fault though" I say with my mouth full. so you really couldn't understand me. he laughs and kisses my cheek.

"who are you fighting tonight?" he asks

"I don't have a match tonight. tomorrow i'm facing Lacey"

"oh well, you get to relax then tonight and watch my match" he says

"yep. we'll be watching" I say happily

"do you and Maddie want to watch from the crowd?" he asks. I shook my head

"I'm afraid she'd run off. speaking of Maddie where is she?" I ask

"she's with Bobby, Kyle and Roddy. they said they'd watch her while i talked to you"

"as long as she's safe that's all I care about"

"don't worry i'm not that stupid" he says which makes me laugh

"I know, you're human"

"thank you captain obvious" he says which make me laugh

"I mean that you make mistakes, but that doesn't make you stupid"

"I know, i'm just teasing you" he says

"better watch it. I still have two best friends who aren't happy with you"

"Neither of them scare me. they're both a hundred pounds soaking wet" he says

"but I should scare you" Bobby says as the rest of them join us at the table

"nah, you wouldn't hurt me" Adam says cockily

"pull a stunt like you did today and you'll find out" Bobby says

"I don't plan on it" Adam says

"good, she's like a daughter to me. and i'm not afraid to hurt any one who hurts her" Bobby says

" be good, both of you. you're best friends and i'm not going to come in the way of your friendship"

"you're worth it though babe. every argument, every time you've annoyed me or I've annoyed you. its all been worth it"

"oh so I annoy you huh?" I ask

"only when you try to. like when you poke me repeatedly while i'm trying to play video games" he says

"but that's fun. you're easy to annoy" he laughs and kisses me again

"you're lucky I love you. you know that right?" he asks

"of course. but I think i'm the lucky one here."

"not possible. I get to wake up next to you every morning" he says

"but that's my favorite thing is waking up in your arms. you're warm and cuddly. even if you do take up most of the bed"

"watch it babe" he warns"

"you don't scare me." I tease

"I almost liked it better when they weren't talking" Kyle says

"shut up Kyle" i say

"I have to go get ready for my match, but i'll find you after okay?" he asks

I kiss him one last time and prepare for the long few hours without him.

@thebutterflygirl16