#drunk dust

[sharkcutlery]

someone said more drunk alastor. my wish is your command

[muskka]

Ready or not! Here I come!

I had a discussion with friends about playing hide and seek in IKEA but when you are drunk... and it is just something I would see the bad Sanses do x'D

[ionlydrinkhotwater]

OK but I really love how unhinged Neil comes off in other people's POV cause looking back at the first three novels he was so damn weird

Take what happened in Colombia

Imagine what Andrew was thinking

Holy crap this binder WTF?!?! OK he's sus as hell I've gotta test him, I'm gonna mess with the tags when I refold his clothes but like...I doubt even he's THAT crazy

*Neil barges in and starts shouting in FRENCH*

OK so he IS that crazy (and French?!)

OK I'm gonna spike his drink and get some answers in a minute just gonna leave him with Aaron and Nicky for a sec while I satisfy my Gay panic this runaway has inspired in me with Roland and then I'll just...WTF DID HE JUST PAY A GUY TO KNOCK HIM OUT?!

OK I'm gonna pick up some breakfast and when I get back to the house I can interrogate the....OK ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME THIS DUBIOUS TWINK CRAWLED OUT OF THE BATHROOM WINDOW?!

OK so he's not around let's get back to Palmetto he probably got a ride from one of the upperclassmen

OK he didn't...did he run away? I guess that makes some sens... OK wait he HITCHHIKED?! THE FUCK?!

OK THIS ASSHOLE SPEAKS GERMAN TOO?!

OK he's on the run from the mob...there are a lot of holes in this story but at this point I'm gonna take his word for it that he's isn't a danger to my people cause I don't have the energy to continue to pursue this anymore. This fucking guy is more unhinged than what I was prepared to deal with this weekend.

[dumbnotstupidfuck]

angel going ‘hey babe, watch this’ and doing a death drop and husk spends at least five seconds thinking angel just snapped his leg and died right in front of him

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Lightweight: Hazbin Hotel

Vaggie: (enters the new hotel after an arms meeting with Carmilla Carmine) Ugh.... I need a-

Angel: (pops up out of nowhere and holds up a cocktail) Drink?

Vaggie: ..... (Takes the drink, secretly appreciative) That was... oddly fast.

Angel: Not really. This was Charlie's, but Husk had to cut her off.

Vaggie: (sputters) I'm sorry. WHAT?!?!

Angel: (giggling like an imp before grabbing Vaggie's hand and dragging her down to the bar) You gotta come see this!

Charlie: (demon mode, suit coat missing and her shirt mostly unbuttoned, bowtie undone, snarling and flexing her claws at a mirror like a puppy seeing its reflection for the first time)

Vaggie: Uh.... What?

Angel: Watch this. (To Charlie) How's putting that homewrecking bitch into submission going, Toots?!

Charlie: (turns to Angel with an excited, fang filled smile) I think I got this bitch on the ropes! *gasp* Hi, Vaggie!!!

Husker: Oh, this is gonna be good.

Charlie: (eyes shift towards the mirror and fire spews from her body as she turns her full attention to her reflection with a growl) Now, you listen here, you cum guzzling bitch.

Vaggie: (gasps and covers her mouth)

Charlie: Vaggie is MY girlfriend! Mine! I'm the one who crawls into bed with her at night. I'm the one who gets to give her kisses every day. And I'M the one who got to wear her thighs as earrings on Thursday night!!!

Angel: (howls with laughter)

Vaggie: (zips to Charlie and firmly grabs her arms) Okay! That's enough of that. It's time to get you to bed, little missy.

Charlie: (melts at Vaggie's touch) Okay, babe. I love you so much. (Glances back at the mirror as she's led away and snarls) You got lucky this time.

Angel: (waits until they're put of earshot) Please tell me someone got a video of her shadow boxing herself for thinking horny thoughts about Ol' Featherduster.

[dragon-spaghetti]

This is not what I was meant to do today but here we are, happy Paddy's day!! ☘️

(Please click for better quality!!)

[whiskersz]

Husk and cuddly drunk reader who flip flops from happy giggly silly to oddly philosophical within seconds

+ Husk and Angel with reader who goes back and forth between being super giggly and silly when drunk to really serious and introspective

Hey you guys! Your requests are very similar, which is why I decided to give you some headcanons instead of a full fic, so I could kind of combine them if that makes sense. Hope this is okay!

Husk

I feel like Husk doesn’t love it when you’re drunk; it makes him worry that you’ll do careless things or say something out of pocket that will result in people getting frustrated with you, which he doesn’t appreciate as he is fairly protective of his loved ones.

But, if you’re simply a little giggly he won’t really mind, as long as you don’t get too drunk of course. What he doesn’t really expect is for you to switch from being silly to being serious, if not philosophical.

He nods as he pours drinks if you’re inside the Hotel rather than at a bar, he has a job as a bartender to do after all, but even though you’re obviously drunk and probably won’t remember any of this tomorrow he still feels bad just straight up ignoring you.

So he gives you a little bit of attention, asking you questions which you can or cannot really answer to... it really depends on when he asks, if you’re not really in the introspective mood you’ll just give him a giggle and call him a silly cat which makes him shake his head endearingly.

At the end of the night he drapes a wing across your back protectively and walks you to your room or to the Hotel, all while you’re blabbering about something that sounds so deep that even he can’t really makes sense of it.

He brings you some water once you’re in bed and, even if you can’t really understand him as you’re already falling asleep, he grumpily tells you that he loves you and that you can keep talking about whatever you were on about earlier tomorrow.

Angel Dust

Angel plays along a little more than Husk does; he will agree with you on whatever you’re saying, or even argue that your theories are wrong. He will also pinch your cheek affectionately when you get into a fit of laughter, but after all he knows you’re drunk so if you’re not within the safety of the Hotel he’ll try to keep an eye on you at all times.

He definitely tries to hold off on how much he drinks to be able to be in his right mind in case something happens to you.

Just like Husk he will drop everything to walk you back to your room and even keep you company while you’re falling asleep. He finds it very funny that once you get to his room – he decides to bring you there as it’s more spacious – you try to engage in a very deep conversation with Fat Nuggets. He admires the ‘exchange’ for a while, before reminding you that it’s time to get your silly ass to sleep.

He already has everything prepared in case the next morning you’re on a hangover, and he’s ready to keep you wrapped up in his arms if it comforts you to have him close to you.

He definitely teases you once you wake up though...remember when you said that one thing about the values you’ve learned in Hell, and then started laughing at yourself over it? You probably don’t, but he was sober enough to, and now he’s going to giggle over it whenever it comes to his mind!

[hazbinwhoree]

Adam x reader whos rlly rlly drunk and strangely asking for... Err baby making.

And adam is rlly hesistant because reader has a very low sex drive...

So when adam refuses (because hes all about boundaries and consent) reader cries and just kinda vents about shit that has no relate to baby making or even anything about tht night.

And in the morning she wakes up so fresh and happy and has no memory of last night, even being so affectionate to adam<333

Consent King

(Name) had a much lower tolerance than Adam, so it didn’t take long into their drinking before (Name) was absolutely wasted. Adam had a nice buzz going, but quit to take (Name) home.

As soon as they were in the door, (Name) was immediately on him, trying to kiss him. Adam let her kiss him, but when her hands moved down to fumble with his belt, he stopped her. “Woah, babe-” “Let’s have sex,” (Name) slurred.

Adam was taken aback. (Name) was very rarely the one to initiate sex, and he was very tempted to take her up on it. But she was sloshed. He steadied her with large hands holding her shoulders. “As much as I would love that, you’re pretty trashed, babe.”

To Adam’s shock, (Name) burst into tears. “You don’t find me attractive anymore,” she sobbed. “What? Babe, no!” “It’s truuue,” she cried, slurring her words slightly. “You don’t want meee.”

Adam was flabbergasted. “(Name), that’s not true! You’re just really drunk right now.” “So?” “So you can’t consent. I’m a lot of things but I’m not a fucking rapist.”

(Name) continued to cry. Adam was at a loss.

“I wish I was prettier,” (Name) blurted out suddenly. Adam frowned. “You’re hot, babe, what are you talking about?”

“No,” (Name) wailed. “All your groupies are so much hotter than me, I don’t even know why you chose me.” Before Adam could even respond, (Name) continued. “You’re probably cheating on meee.”

Adam shook his head, stunned. “I’m not… why would you think that?”

(Name) shrugged and sniffled. “Because look at *hic* you, then look at me. You could do so much better.”

Adam pulled her into his arms. “I love you. I’m not cheating on you. You’re the hottest bitch in the world to me. My groupies are whores, they don’t mean shit. Stop being a dick to yourself.”

(Name)’s tears slowed as she cuddled into Adam’s chest. “Really?” she asked quietly.

“Really.”

A moment of silence.

“‘M tired,” (Name) slurred. Adam rolled his eyes. “I’m not surprised. You’re wasted.” “Whateverrr.” When she turned towards the stairs and stumbled, Adam scooped her up bridal-style.

“I can wa-alk,” (Name) protested.

“Shut up.”

Adam carried her upstairs to their bedroom. He cradled her in one arm while he pulled the covers back, before gently tucking her into the bed. He crawled into bed next to her. Protectively, he draped his wing over her and pulled her into his chest.

(Name) slung an arm over his waist, gripping the shirt material at his back. It didn’t take long at all before (Name) was fast asleep. After watching her for a while, Adam himself fell asleep.

He woke up to (Name) running her fingers through his hair and gently scratching at his scalp. “Good morning,” she cooed. Adam sighed contently. “You’re feeling better.” (Name) was confused. “What do you mean?”

“Oh you were a mess last night,” Adam teased. “You wanted to have sex and I said no because I was pretty sure you were blacked out, and boom, I was right. Anyway, you lost your shit a little.”

(Name) looked embarassed. “Oh my god, I’m never drinking again.”

Adam laughed. “It’s okay, babe, I still thought you were cute. Even when you were drunk crying.”

(Name) tapped his head. “Shut up,” she mumbled.

Adam laughed. He couldn’t help but tease her. “Seriously though, you were fine,” he reassured her.

“But now that you’re awake and sober, wanna have sex?”

[downloadablecreature]

Rating Hazbin Hotel characters by how long I think it took them to figure out their new forms

Charlie- was literally born in hell, developed her fine motor skills accordingly

Mimzy- no problems whatsoever

Cherri Bomb- little to no issues, but having only one eye was kinda weird

Niffty- her worst issue was being so much shorter than she was before, but got over that pretty quickly

Vaggie- took her a while to get used to having no depth perception

Alastor- his first 5 minutes in hell involved him fighting his own legs, anyone that saw him stumble/trip would be instantly killed

Angel Dust- didn’t realize his extra arms were retractable, was pissed that he didn’t figure it out sooner

Vox- whenever he updates his appearance, it takes him a day or so to get used to the changes, has overestimated his ability to fit his head through gaps on multiple occasions

Valentino- still in denial about his terrible eyesight, loved that he could use his wings like a big fancy coat/cape

Husk- understood that cat part pretty quickly, had no clue what he was doing with his wings and often hit them against people/objects

Sir Pentious- took forever for him to figure out how one moves when they don’t have any legs, face planted soooo many times

[ortezsamuel]

pretend i drew a couch here

i wanted to draw a drunk alastor idk how angel got here

bonus: chest fluff soft

[lelet-draws]

I told myself I wouldn’t post these doodles, but since @theoisdaydreaming insisted, let’s go.

Overlord Angel doodles cause I this AU is underrated.

Yes they were both drunk.

[nymphrod]

ALRIGHT BITCHES IM DRUNK ON COLD MEDICINE AND HOPPING ON THE NON EXISTANT BANDWAGON THAT IS APPLEDUST

Being bedridden, Im OBVIOUSLY gonna write a fagfic, so here's the beginning of it because im desperate for approval uwu

[[[“Ha! Good luck with that one.” Husk barked the moment Charlie, Vaggie and Alastor guided Lucifer out of the room to begin the tour of the Hazbin Hotel.

Angel and Sir Pentious looked at Husk quizzically as he made Mimzy’s drink.

“You heard him, he said he likes women.”

“Oh baby, I’ve made straight men quiva’,” Angel starts, using his pointer and middle finger, to walk up Husk’s arm, “all it takes is a little… effort.” He finishes his statement by using his hands to puff up his chest fluff.

“Ain’t that the truth! Men are too easy!” Mimzy snorts, sipping her drink.

“I’ll bet even Niffty hasss a better chance!” Sir Pentious laughs loudly, joining in on the bullying.

As if on queue, Niffty scurries onto the bar, stabbing a roach with a sewing pin, grinning wildly at the roach squirming, before running off to who knows where to do who knows what with the poor insect.

“IIIII don’t know about that… But I’ll definitely put money on Angel failing.” Husk adds, wiping the bar clean from Niffty’s ‘hobbies’.

Angel barks out a laugh “I’ll take ya up on that bet!”

“$20 bucks says you’re gonna be sittin’ here drinkin’ me dry when he rejects your ass.” Husk leaned on the bar, smirking playfully at the porn star.

Angel, leaning in to show he wasn’t backing down, “$50, and loser-” glancing at Pentious, “loSERS treat everyone else to a night on the town.”

Sir Pentious and Husk glance at each other, hesitating, but only briefly before they both slam their hands on the bar dramatically, shouting, “Deal." ]]]

[ani-radio]

Okay, I just HAD TO!! 😆 Poor Angel lol

[star-filled-arcade]

On The Road Again: Chapter 1

CW// Alcohol, drinking, drunkenness, swearing

Rating: M (Mature)

~~~

Husk's job was temporary. He wasn't planning on staying in New York for very long, and even less so as a lousy bartender, wiping up spills from drunks who got more alcohol on the counter than down their throats. The bar was as seedy as the streets he walked through on his way back home, to the apartment he'd been renting for a little under a month now, and the constant stream of cigarette smoke that filled up the room stung his eyes every time he blinked. He was only here because he had debts to pay off, and someone had once told him that New York was the place to pick up a job if he needed a quick buck. Anything went here, and if you were lucky, you'd run into some rich bastard from Manhattan who accidentally tipped you an entire paycheck in one night. Since Husk was used to travelling from state to state, New York was no skin off his back. He'd been nearing this edge of the country anyway.

Still, the New York dream was just as bullshit as any other, and Husk was wondering why he forced himself to stick out a job that paid him not much more than any other two-bit job in any old state, though preferably one where the streets didn't smell of piss. He could be doing this shit out in the countryside, soaking up the fresh air and clearing his mind out in the fields, or at the very least, spending his time in a place that didn't make his hands itch to join the nearest blackjack table and start betting. Sure, he was nowhere near Vegas, but a sleazy, smoke-filled bar certainly gave him plenty of flashbacks.

It was his own fault, really. He couldn't help himself but choose the more familiar places to stay in, almost like a home comfort he couldn't quite let go of. No one in their right mind would want to move to the sordid underbelly of Brooklyn, where the mafia ran riot and you were lucky to make it back to your apartment without getting involved in some sort of gang war on the way there. For the average person, this was the type of place you stayed at least ten miles away from at all times, but for Husk it was like breathing in the scent of freshly baked bread, or else taking in the surrounding air and feeling it pour into your lungs. It was warm and welcoming, and he couldn't imagine his life any other way. He wasn't exactly a criminal by any stretch of the word, and he'd never killed anybody in the forty one years he'd been around, but he was happy to sit back and watch the worst of humanity expose itself in front of him, for his own entertainment, while he served it drinks from behind a bar. If there was one thing Husk craved, it was for something to pique his interest and get his adrenaline running, heart pumping in his chest, and as the years wore on, the situations he hankered for became more and more extreme.

He didn't suit the fresh air and sprawling fields of some Southern American state, but boy did he feel the pull of New York tugging on his shirt collar every time he decided that now was a good time to leave. Husk's job was temporary. He wasn't planning on staying in New York for very long, but he was starting to wonder if that was just another lie he was so good at crafting. He almost believed it, had he not known exactly how his mind worked. He was never getting out of this shithole.

Husk sighed to himself, spat in a murky tankard and wiped it clean with a cloth.

"Hey, barkeep... get me another whiskey, will ya? And make it stronger this time, I might as well a' just chewed the ice." Husk took the glass that had been slid towards him from the other end of the bar. There sat a young man, fresh-faced from youth, but with the kind of hollowed out eyes that aged a person by a good few decades. Husk was used to that look; it had been a year since the end of the War, and pretty much everyone still walked around in a slight daze, not really knowing how to continue a life that was once certain to have ended. Meanwhile, the forgotten soldiers were still trying to adjust to whatever they'd once left behind, but with a newfound sense of hopelessness borne from the cold months on the battlefields. Husk didn't need to look for long to know exactly which category this man fell into. He looked young— too young— and therefore the perfect recruit.

Husk set the glass of whiskey down in front of him. The man twirled his finger around the rim, before picking it up and throwing it down his throat in one swift gulp. The experience with alcohol showed clearly in his steady hands, yet Husk gained the impression that the man was probably more drunk than he was letting on.

"Bad night?" asked Husk. The man didn't even look at him. He was stooping slightly over the wooden tabletop and his eyebrows furrowed deeper at Husk's words.

"Can it, pal," he grunted. "I came here to drink, not talk."

"I'll take that as a yes, then." The man pushed the glass back to him, forcefully enough to knock it over.

"Just pour me another," he said. "I'm not in the mood."

"Alright." Husk did as he was told, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from underneath the bar, but he kept a watchful eye on the man in front of him. Husk always challenged himself to get even the most stubborn of people to open up, in part because the stories that came out of the mouths of drunk New Yorkers could be more entertaining than any movie in the world, but also because he lived in a city of secrets where one could get shot up just for opening their trap for a second, so getting anyone to open up was harder than winning the rigged card games back in Vegas. For Husk, it was irresistible.

Besides, there was something vaguely intriguing about this guy, enough for Husk to want to talk to him for more than just his own personal bet. Even while sitting down, Husk could tell that the man was stupidly tall, half of his body hunched over the bar and still an inch or two higher than the top of Husk's head. Other than his height, though, the man was a tiny thing. Skinny and clean-shaven, his face small under his hat and hidden by a bush of blonde hair that poked out from underneath, far longer than the typical style of any men these days. Even his voice was high enough to make Husk do a double take and wonder if he was actually serving a woman dressed up in drag. It was gravelly, though, and he didn't know any woman who'd choose to sit in the most lousy bar this side of Brooklyn, especially at this time of night. The sun was practically rising, and Husk would have clocked off long ago had this guy not still been sitting there hours after the last patron had stumbled out into the street. Husk should have kicked him out a while ago, yet he kept trying to talk to him instead.

"So... you from around here?" The man finally looked up, blinking eyes too big for his face.

"What did I just say?" Husk had already made a bet with himself that he was either talking to a mafia member, or to some dumb newsie who'd been trying his luck with fake IDs. The accent was a dead giveaway, though he couldn't remember if newsies were Irish or Italian... probably both. There were so many groups in New York intermingling with each other that Husk struggled to keep up. He had grown up in Las Vegas, where the only people he came across outside the casinos were either white or Latino, to the point where Spanish was a second language to him. In actual fact, he could speak quite a few languages from growing up in the flashing lights of tourist traps, and he wondered if he could try his luck dropping a few Italian words just to see this guy's reaction.

"Come on, man, I could be drinking myself to sleep back up in my apartment right now, yet I'm busting my ass serving you when I should be checking your driver's license... if you even have one yet." He smirked at the guy's fierce scowl, finally hitting the jackpot when he replied with: "I'm thirty four, asshole."

"Thirty four?! You're pulling my leg, kid. You look like you should be out on the street corners shouting the headlines."

"You know newsies ain't been around since the twenties," the man replied, although Husk could see the beginnings of a playful smile on his lips. "I should know, my brother was one for a time 'fore they set the laws down."

"Ah well, forgive me, I ain't from around here."

"Oh yeah? Where ya from?"

"Vegas, in Nevada." The man rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I know where Vegas is," he muttered. "You're a long way from home, ain't cha?" Husk casually shrugged.

"I travel a lot," he said. "I ain't been back to Vegas for years now." He trailed off, searching for a way to change the subject and steer back on course of questioning the customer instead of the other way around. "What's your name?" The man took another sip of whiskey, weighing up whether or not to answer him.

"Anthony," he said finally. Husk scoffed lightly.

"Of course your name's Anthony."

"What's that s'posed to mean?"

"Lemme guess, you're some Harlem mobster hailing from Sicily or some shit?" Anthony looked set on snapping back some scathing retort, but the words were lost in his throat. Instead, he sighed.

"That obvious, huh?" Husk chuckled.

"I guessed it the second you opened your mouth, kid." Anthony drained the last of his drink and slammed it back onto the table. "What are you doing so far from Harlem, then?"

"Mostly just tryin' to get away from my family," replied Anthony. "My pa's doing my head in as usual, and my brother... ." He exhaled, a cynical sounding huff at the mere mention of his brother. Husk raised a prompting eyebrow.

"Your brother?"

"Whatever." He waved his hand to signal the end of the conversation, and Husk was sure he was about to get up and finally leave. It was pushing four am, and both of them desperately needed to sleep, but Husk was already invested. Now he needed to know about this brother, otherwise he'd lose this stupid challenge of his.

"Hey, lemme pour you another drink," he suggested. "On the house." Anthony paused, and frowned.

"Why?"

"Why not? It's not getting any earlier, and you look like you're in need of a drinking to forget kinda night."

"Oh, lemme guess, you're the wise old bartender, huh? Itching to give me some life advice?" He blew the air through his lips. "Dry up, you're no older'n I am." It was technically true, since Husk only had seven years on the kid, but it was hard to keep reminding himself of that. It was only when he got a glimpse of Anthony's eyes that he noticed his age.

"No, but I've experienced a hell of a lot of life travelling all over the world, and... I dunno, it's quiet and ain't nobody here to hear ya... you might as well talk. We bartenders are pretty good listeners." Anthony stared at him, and Husk was sure he'd lost him for a moment in his ramblings about life experience and listening. The truth was, Husk was no better at life than any old bum on the streets, in fact, he was probably worse. What kind of decent advice could some gambling alcoholic give to another alcoholic that wouldn't just make everything worse? He supposed it didn't matter... he didn't care either way. He was doing this out of boredom. He had no interest in helping this guy and every interest in marvelling at the walking contradiction of some dandy gangster. Husk couldn't imagine Anthony shooting up mobsters or threatening men for drug money when he looked more like some rich person's plaything. Put this guy in a dress and heels and he could fit right into the fancy cabarets on Broadway, so it was no wonder the men in his family were breathing down his neck. It was no wonder he wanted to escape for a night.

Perhaps Husk was getting ahead of himself. He still knew nothing about this guy. Anthony sighed, idly flicking the splatters of alcohol that were beginning to stain the surface.

"I ain't a bad mobster, ya know?" he began. "I don't look like much, but I can handle a gun better'n any guy I know, and I ain't had no trouble getting info outta people." He stuck his finger in his mouth, licking off the remnants of whiskey. "It ain't good enough for my Pops, though. It ain't ever been good enough for him, and my brother's following right in his footsteps."

"How come?"

"Eh, look at me... ." He vaguely gestured to himself. "I look as weak as a kitten, and I ain't brutal enough neither. My dad and my brother... Hell, they're the hardest motherfuckers you'll ever come across. They'll shoot you before they can hack up enough saliva to spit on your dead body, and their feelings don't change for family, you know. If I ever stepped outta line, I'd be defending myself to God Himself." He laughed, though there was a dark edge to it. "Like I'd ever get into Heaven anyways," he added softly.

"You ever killed anybody?" Anthony gave him a funny look, and Husk backtracked slightly at his own abruptness. "Don't worry, I ain't a cop or nothin', and I'd snitch on someone over my own dead body."

"Well that's guaranteed if you ever did," Anthony replied. "Yeah, course I killed people. I mean, shit, I fought in the War. I've killed more'n I can count."

"Your brother fight in the War?"

"My dad wanted him back at home continuing on the family business... you know, don't matter if there's a war on so long as daddy's little golden boy can keep draining money from the poor bastards who dare try to cross 'em." He banged his fist on the table angrily. "God I hate those fuckers... ."

"I dunno, sounds pretty cowardly of 'em to me," said Husk. "Avoiding fighting in the War just to cheat a bunch of desperate people outta money? Slimy bastards, if you ask me."

"Well, I ain't askin' you... but, uh... you really think so?" The sincerity in his voice and eyes took Husk aback for a moment, as if Anthony genuinely cared about the answer.

"Yeah, you were the only one brave enough to actually fight. That don't make someone weak in my books." Angel chewed his bottom lip.

"My dad wanted me to sign up to the military," he continued quietly. Despite all the drinks he'd had, Anthony's voice sounded completely sober in that moment. "He wanted it to make me tougher, you know? More desensitized to using a gun, but... fuck, it just made me hate all that shit even more." He tapped his fingernail against the empty glass. "I fuckin' hate being a mobster. Always have." His face broke out into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "But hey, it's good honest work, right? Handlin' a gun is what I'm great at, and it sure beats wandering the streets sellin' matchsticks for dimes."

"Sure... I guess it could be worse." Husk was finding the conversation starting to bum him out, so he went back to wiping down the counter. He didn't know whether to count this as a success, but he was in no doubt he'd see this guy again. They always came crawling back when they needed a shoulder to cry on, and Husk hated to admit that he was a damn good listener, even if he didn't care to be. There was something about growing up surrounded by gambling that made you learn how to keep your ears open. Usually it's to pick up on any subtle weaknesses in an opponent, but Husk was a little gentler than the men he grew up around. It wasn't something he was proud of, and the casinos sure frowned upon it, but he had grown tired of people keeping their cards close to their chest, in more ways than one. It was all bullshit to him, so getting people to actually open up about their vulnerabilities, well... it was a novel idea to him. It used to give him a sick sense of power that he could break someone down and see right into their steel-trapped minds, but now he just found it intriguing. Sometimes those minds held wild stories that he couldn't come with in a million years, and he had the front row seat to all of them.

It was why he liked to travel, and why he gravitated towards the role of bartender. That was his life. Always travelling, always listening, always finding new stories to keep him entertained.

"Hey, uh... thanks for the drinks, pal." Anthony slapped down a couple dollar bills and stepped off the bar stool. He didn't even need to hop down, his feet already flat against the floor. "I'll see you around, maybe."

"Yeah, kid. I'll be seein' ya." Anthony rolled his eyes, but Husk could see a smile hiding underneath that brown-knitted cap.

"Call me kid one more time and I'll get my guys on you."

"I'd be worried if I didn't now know you can't stand 'em." Husk retorted. "Oh, uh... I'm Husker, by the way." Anthony nodded in response and pulled up the collar of his coat, shrouding his face in shadow.

"Nice meeting ya, Husker."

~~~

Read on Ao3!

[thevashta-narada]

Human!Huskerdust

I drew them dancing to Blake Roman's song cos I thought it would be cute :)

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Lips of an Angel: Chaggie

Charlie: (flops face first onto the bar) UuuUUUuuUgGgGgggHh!!!

♦️Husker♣️: (mixes a Shirley Temple and slides the glass over to Charlie)

Charlie: (hand makes random grabby motions until she finds the drink and practically rips it off the counter so she can suck on the straw childishly)

Angel: What's got your panties in a twist?

Charlie: Thank you for not saying taco.

Angel: (shrugs) Meh. It's only funny to say that around Vags. But, seriously, what's with the theatrics?

Charlie: (whining groan) It's my and Vaggie's anniversary and I wanted to make it special by writing a song to sing to her, but I've been working on this for WEEKS and I can't think of anything!

♦️Husker♣️: (wide-eyed blink) Oh. Shit.

Angel: (sprays his drink all over the bar while coughing) Holy Fuck Biscuits, Charlie!!!

Cherry 🍒: I don't get it. What's the problem?

Charlie: (wails) Of all the things I can sing about, I should be able to write a full symphony about my own girlfriend!

Cherry 🍒: So? You literally had to worry about an Extermination-slash-war with Heaven and rebuilding the hotel. Just go online and find a song that matches how you feel.

Charlie: Isn't that a bit of a cop-out?

Cherry 🍒: Pshh! Hardly. (Pulls out her phone and pulls up a list of songs before tossing the device to Charlie) Here. Knock yourself out.

Charlie: Okay, if it's not really a cop-out, then I guess I can take a look. (Scrolls through the list before gasping with sparkles in her eyes) This one! This one's perfect!

Angel: What's that?

Charlie: Lips of an Angel! It's perfect! It covers Vaggie's angelic traits and how.... What's so funny?

♦️Husker♣️: (turning his back to the bar to hid his giggles by pretending to take inventory)

Angel: (snickering) I don't think that song means what you think it does, Toots.

Charlie: (cocks an eyebrow) What do you mean? (Reads from the lyrics while singing) 🎶"It's really good to hear your voice, saying my name. It sounds so sweet. Coming from the lips of an angel, hearing those words it makes me weak." 🎶

Cherry 🍒: (tamping down her snickers) I think what Angel's trying to say is that this is more of a rock ballad, not a cutsey musical. Not exactly something you tend to sing, babe.

Charlie: Oh... (kicked puppy face)

Cherry 🍒: (under her breath) Fucking Hell, how do you guys deal with this girl?

Angel & ♦️Husker♣️: (shrug)

Cherry 🍒: (sighs) Buuuuut, I think Vaggie might be into it. She seems like the type to like a good rock song about love.

Charlie: (eyes sparkling) Really?! You think so?!

Cherry 🍒: Uh... Yeah... But we're gonna have to change your outfit to match. You can't look like a 1930s businessman while singing rock, girlie.

Charlie: (blinks and stares at her suit) But... I don't know how to dress "rock".

Cherry 🍒: Oh, for fuck's sakes... Come on. (Grabs Charlie's arm and drags her away) I'm gonna get you punked out.

Charlie: *gasp* Yaaaaaaay!!!!