#from just thinking unkind things about others to projecting my own nasty thoughts onto other people

[yellowocaballero]

no, keep writing long answers. whenever i send in asks and the reply is 'no' or some quippy gif or 'yes. [link to post that answered my question already]' it just devastates me. i feel like i wasted everyone's time and the answerer is just scorning me behind the screen for doing so lmao 😭

I find that it helps me a lot to approach life from the basic assumption that people don't care that much about me and that they don't have a lot of strong opinions about me. I mean, think of it this way - how often has a friend texted you and you went 'ugh, this asshole again, I hate them'? Or how often have you heard a classmate give the wrong answer in class or say something wrong and went 'what a moronic waste of space'? How often are you mentally unkind to others? Hopefully not that frequently. Even when you are, how often it is anything more than you taking our your own bad mood on another person? And the kind of person who thinks these things about friends or even strangers frequently, from pure bad spirit instead of just a tough day or a personal issue, isn't really the kind of person whose opinion I care a lot about.

Anyway, from my experience with bloggers who give short answers - they get a ton of asks every day and don't have time to respond in depth to each one. Or they just don't have a lot to say. Or they enjoy acknowledging asks but they feel awkward talking too much. If they respond with a link to the prev question, then they really just don't feel like taking the time to type everything out again! I give stupid long answers because they're about my fic and I love talking about my fic, I assume that most people following me are here to read my fic background and opinions, and because I don't get that many asks lmfao. On days when I do have a full inbox my answers are always a lot shorter. If I was some BNF or something I'd definitely talk a lot less. Also I just naturally am a big talker, and not everybody is. All of that's about me and nothing to do with the anons. Dw about it!!

[tobi-smp]

https://twitter.com/mackself_/status/1752500529849045230?t=w8C_e8xr0ADSDa3L-7djPw&s=19

Penny for your thoughts?

[Link]

my real answer: I'm extremely uninterested in getting into arguments with people set on demonizing traumatized mentally ill characters for being traumatized and mentally ill. particularly when it comes to wilburians and inniters having strange crimeboys takes and taking pot shots at each other.

neither side (speaking only to the extremists in each group of course) seems to want to hear that traumatized mentally ill people Will often hurt each other while also still loving and caring about each other. the messy symptoms for Their character flattened and excused and pasted over, while the messy symptoms of the other are amplified and taken out of context and demonized.

I especially feel like with wilbur in particular people are really sensitive about viewing anything he does and says in a negative light, because of how he was treated in the fanbase And because of how Much his story is centered around his suicide.

the nasty things he said To Tommy, whether that be during his spiral or in limbo or after his revival, are so often just. Smoothed Over. if not outright talked about like it's some gotcha that people use to vilify wilbur and not a pattern of behavior just as much as tommy's own aggressiveness.

people vilified tommy for being scared and angry at wilbur after his reintroduction to the point that there are people who genuinely fully believe that their limbo stream and tommy's obvious fear of wilbur after tommy's own revival was retconned.

to put it bluntly, I think there's a ton of projection happening on both sides, understandably so considering how deeply and beautifully these characters tackle mental health. but I think that projection mingled with the way that Other parts of the fandom mistreat these characters make this Extreme defensiveness that's just really not worth engaging with.

and that's not even considering how the mcyt community as a whole has a major problem with parasocial relationships taken too far. Especially during 2020-2021 when covid was at its height and people were really leaning onto Their Streamer to help them cope with the isolation.

that's not to say that parasocial relationships or projection are inherently Bad. I know full well that I do both without a shred of embarrassment about it. it's very famously why I still can't engage with boundless sands content without immediately bursting into tears a year later.

but a lot of people can't seem to untangle their very personal feelings about it from arguments about characterization or writing or meta. it's very important to them to absolve Their Good Friend from any guilt or wrongdoing and to stick up for them against the bad people that are hurting them, be that other characters or people online. Especially when "their good friend" is Also a stand in for themselves (whether they realize it or not).

and it's just not worth engaging with that, especially not in 2024. if someone needs to use wilbur to be kind to the part of themselves that's hurting then by all means, I'm certainly not throwing stones in glass houses.

but there's really nothing To Say to someone who fully believes that tommy needs to be held accountable for driving wilbur to suicide in pogtopia. I think that's an extremely uncharitable, unkind thing to believe. I think it's an Unfair thing to believe. but it kind of doesn't matter what I think. I doubt there's anything that I or anyone could say that would change someone's mind if they already believe this.

and for my money, I'll be content just not speaking to someone who thinks that way.

my first reaction: did I only get sent this because I said that tommy calling wilbur crazy during pogtopia while actively trying to take care of him and get him to not kill himself isn't the same thing as techno doing it while actively enabling wilbur's violent self destructive death spiral [Link]

[thegayhimbo]

I saw your reblog about Alcide, if you don't mind answering what are your personal thoughts on him?

Hi there. Sorry for the wait on this. I actually thought this was going to be a simple answer, but I realize there's a lot I wanted to say about the character in relation to how the fandom perceives him as opposed to how he actually comes off onscreen.

When I first saw the show, my feelings about Alcide ranged from okay at best to indifferent at worst. I didn't hate him, but I didn't care for him. He wasn't my favorite character on the show, and I found most of his story (and the werewolf plots) to be boring. I was actually surprised when I came online and found out he had a following with certain fans.

Upon rewatch, I'm still mostly indifferent to Alcide, but I lean a little more towards mildly disliking him now. And a lot of that has to do with how the fandom (especially people on Reddit) treat him vs how he actually comes across in the books and on the show.

I’ll start off by saying that I never liked Alcide in the books. He was an asshole, and most of the time he used Sookie to advance his position in the werewolf pack. What little relationship he had with Sookie felt one-sided on his part. It also doesn’t help that he unfairly blamed Sookie for stuff that was out of her control (like the death of Debbie in the books or the death of his father.) His attraction to Debbie in the books is also something that doesn’t reflect well on him. Contrary to the show’s portrayal, Debbie in the books was written as a one-dimensional psychopath with a jealous streak and no redeeming qualities. She’s basically a cartoon villain with no depth to her. The result is it’s hard to understand why Alcide got into a relationship with her in the first place, and it makes it look like he was just thinking with his dick. In other words, Book Alcide was nothing to brag about.

As for the show, like I said, I’m mostly apathetic to Alcide’s character (with a few exceptions that I will talk about in a minute) and I thought he was pointless. I know he was suppose to be a vehicle to introduce Sookie to the world of werewolves, but the way that was executed didn’t work. Common consensus in the fandom seems to be that the werewolf plots in both the books and the show were tedious and forgettable. It’s ironic because I know there are Alcide fans out there, but whenever I’ve asked them about what they thought of the werewolf stories, their responses range from “I don’t remember them” to “They were bad.” A lot of fans didn’t care for them. They could have been cut from the show without affecting the main story. That’s a problem because Alcide was usually involved in those stories, and the result is it was hard to care about him because of how non-compelling they were.

As for the character himself, I wasn’t impressed with him for a number of reasons.

First, there’s his relationship with women. I didn’t pick up on this the first time, but a rewatch has shown me how sexist Alcide came off during certain moments on the show. Case in point: His relationship with Debbie. One of the big conflicts between Alcide and Debbie on the show is that they both wanted different things. Alcide didn’t want kids and was fine not being in a werewolf pack. Debbie was the opposite where she did want kids and wanted to be a part of a community. Nothing wrong with that, but it was pretty clear from the get-go that this relationship was never going to work out. The problem though is that Alcide never seemed to recognize that, and kept trying to force Debbie to be something she didn’t want to be: A housewife who didn’t have kids, who was isolated except for her and Alcide, and who spoke softly and cooked meals for him. Basically the opposite of what Debbie was. And yes, I get that Debbie had a lot of problems and made really poor choices, but Alcide’s method of imposing his idea of what she should be was not the way to have handled that. It doesn’t help that he didn’t really seem to care about what she wanted because he thought he knew what was best for her. Like I said, that’s pretty sexist on his part.

And then there’s Sookie and how she factored into Alcide’s relationship with Debbie in seasons 3-4. I find it telling that when it comes to how this situation was handled, fans are eager to blame Sookie and Debbie for the whole mess that resulted in Alcide abjuring Debbie and Debbie getting killed by Sookie, but people rarely call out Alcide for his part in all of this. Personally though, I think Alcide bears some of the blame here for what happened.

Something that’s been pointed out is that during seasons 3-4, Alcide has only known Sookie for a brief period of time. Season 3 for instance takes place over the course of 9-10 days whereas season 4 takes place over 10 days (October 21st-October 31st). That’s about 2-3 weeks at best. And yet, despite only knowing Sookie for about a week in season 3, and despite having been in love with Debbie for a number of years, he’s already pining for Sookie:

Now maybe you could argue that he saw Sookie as a replacement in season 3 because his relationship with Debbie deteriorated and he was heartbroken. However, that excuse doesn’t hold up in season 4 when he’s supposed to have repaired his relationship with Debbie during the year Sookie was gone in faerie-land, and yet he’s still lusting for Sookie despite only knowing her for a short period of time.

It’s so telling to me that only a few days after Debbie’s death in season 5, Alcide tries to have sex with Sookie when they’re both drunk, and he tells Sookie “I’ve waited so long for this.” It really puts his relationship with Debbie in a negative light, and calls into question whether he actually loved her at all.

I’m not saying that Debbie was blameless in this, and it doesn’t excuse her cheating on Alcide with Marcus or trying to kill Sookie, but it’s not like she didn’t notice Alcide was eyeing Sookie for some time. This was a woman who had hitched her sobriety onto Alcide and felt isolated and alone, and the man she was depending on was emotionally cheating on her. And rather than owning up to that, Alcide tries to gaslight Debbie into thinking she’s crazy and it’s all in her head. He literally says that to her when they’re in bed together, and it’s nasty.

What’s frustrating is this usually gets overlooked in the fandom when people talk about Alcide’s character, and he’s usually referred to in a sympathetic light whereas Debbie is blamed for being an unstable, violent whack-job whereas Sookie is blamed for being a house-wrecker, even though she was in a relationship with Eric at the time.

This is also one of the reasons I never liked Sookie/Alcide as a pairing, and why them getting together at the end of season 6 felt forced: Putting aside how their only sexual interaction up to that point was Alcide trying to have sex with Sookie one night when they were drunk and Sookie vomiting all over him, it was basically Sookie getting pigeon-hold into the role of domestic housewife for Alcide. And I’m sorry, but I find it unbelievable that they were together for 6 months and Sookie never once picked up on any unkind or dirty thoughts from Alcide during the time they were together until the season 7 premiere when that suddenly was a problem.

But even putting aside his relationships with Sookie and Debbie, the biggest problem I have with Alcide is he’s not a compelling character. He’s a character whose motivations and personality change when the plot demands it, and most of the time the writers didn’t know what to do with him and just stuck him in different stories with no rhyme or reason. It doesn’t help that he has no character development during his time on the show. There is no difference between the Alcide we meet in season 3 and the one we end up with in season 7. The result is I don’t care about him.

It’s funny because I’ve seen plenty of fans project these kind of criticisms onto Jason, but I actually think they apply more to Alcide than they do to Jason.

Jason actually had character development. He learned to become more responsible and be someone others could depend on. He began to move away from his womanizing behavior in the later seasons and eventually settled down and had a family. He re-evaluated his stance on supernaturals, and actually became an ally for them in several ways. There is a big difference between the person he was in season 1 and the man he became by season 7. If people missed that, or chose to ignore it, that’s on them, but it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

Alcide on the other hand..............what was his character development? How did he grow as a person? What did he learn from his relationships with Debbie or Sookie or Rikki? Or even from the whole werewolf pack nonsense? Cause I’m drawing a blank here. Was it suppose to be that pack life wasn’t for Alcide because it would turn him into a power-hungry asshole? I never got the impression that was a problem for him in the early seasons, and it was a contrived conflict that was manufactured for season 6. The show never did a good job fleshing out what his arc was suppose to be.

Also, say what you will about Jason’s stories, but at least they were memorable: Amy and Jason’s relationship. The Fellowship of the Sun. The werepanthers. Becoming a cop with Andy. His relationship with Jessica. His hunt for Warlow. I would also argue that each of these stories added something to Jason’s character, and helped him grow as a person. Alcide’s arc on the other hand.......................not so much. When I was rewatching, I had to take notes just to remember what was going on with the werewolves, and even when I was rewatching, I felt the overwhelming urge to hit the fast-forward button. That is how boring those scenes were. It says something that even Alcide wasn’t able to carry them.

TL;DR: I’m apathetic to Alcide (with a few moments where I find him unlikable), and I don’t think he was a good character. The werewolf plots were tedious at best and irritating at worst, and Alcide’s arc on the show wasn’t compelling or interesting. I don’t hate him the same way I hate characters like Bill, Hoyt, and Violet, but I don’t like him either.

[blackevermore]

x Wade In The Water

{ Chapter 7: Glory Glory }

Summary: Ester Scott was once in love. She thought the days of her shortcomings were over and that the man she found was her one and only. But all that was taken away when the demons she had became too accustomed to finally took the one thing she had left. Louisiana was her home but the devil down below was calling her name. She only has herself to blame when it came to the hands dragging her under.

Notes: It’s Hazbin Hotel, be ready for everything. Also I apologize for all my mistakes in advance!

Word Count: 4,767

The light that shines down upon our skin is bright, welcoming, and rewarding. It tells us we’ve done something right and that we are being called back home. But the colour of said light is what will get you in trouble. White is from the angles, every other colour is the devil’s ringing.

- Ester R. Scott

I’ve always loved the sight of the colorful lilies that were planted through the town. During the long weekends of Mardi Gras shopkeepers would set out lilies to keep up the spirit. Right outside of Mrs Birdy’s shop was a bakery across the street, the son of the owner would set out every color possible around the shop. Chemintine used to tease me for staring out the windows at the boy as he worked. But I wasn’t looking at him, I could care less for him, though he was attractive it wasn’t he who made me lost. It was the flowers and the memories they brought me. Many Springs mama would bring home flowers and tell me what they meant. I thought it was amazing that something as simple as a plant could mean so much to people. 

As I watched the boy put the display together I always noticed that he always put the yellow lilies closer to the store door. Yellow meant thankfulness and desire for enjoyment, he was thanking every customer that came in and bought something for coming. It was a sweet gesture until I found out that his father wasn’t too keen on serving every walk of life. Last year his father had turned away some wealthy blacks that were on vacation simple for their skin. And as they walked out the door of the shop those yellow lilies bobbed and swayed with innocence. Not too long after that they died unexpectedly and had to be replaced. But even when the son replaced them they always died when his father did something unkind. I was sure the boy knew why the lilies died, when he saw what he father did he always looked out the window towards the flowers worried. Then the following day he would automatically get to his knees to unpot them and replace them. A sweet boy.

“Ester, you watching that boy again?” Chemintine said, slipping from behind the curtain from the back carrying three boxes. She placed them on the counter with a sigh and rubbed her hands on her apron. 

“I’m not watching him, never have, I’m watching the flowers,” I respond, not breaking my eyes away from the lilies that blew in the breeze.

“Are they-”

“No, Chem, they are just flowers.” I had to cut her off before she got too excited, at first I thought it was cute and childish. But now it was starting to annoy me that she suspected everything I looked at to be angel related. Poor girl would think of me having a sweet tooth and eyeing a piece of cake was a message from god.

“ But they do have meanings, the flowers, they all have meanings. People thought they were so pretty they had to mean something.” I couldn’t allow Chemintine's mood to drop, she didn’t mean to be pestering, just curious, and I knew that. She moved closer to me and looked out the window with a smile.

“What’s the orange ones?”

“Confidence, pride, and wealth.”

“I got confidence and pride but not much wealth.” Chemintine giggled then pointed out again. “The whites?”

“Purity and virtue.”

“Well, Ester I think that one fits you well. Now the pink ones.”

I quickly shook my head at her little comment, “Prosperity and abundance.”

“I don’t know what that means but pink is such a lovely colour, don’tcha think?” Chemintine sighed happily and looked towards me.

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t really wear it, blue and greens are my safe colours.” I shrugged and Chemintine nodded.

“And lastly what does the red ones mean? Is it like all the other red colour flowers, all about love and what not?” Chemintine asked.

“Yes, it’s love and passion.” I finally pulled myself away from looking out the window and reached under the counter for the name cards. 

“I figured. Yeah, I know people can be so smart and come up with fancy meanings for all these colours. But red can only mean love. Why is that Ester?”

“Well red doesn’t just mean love there are other things but red is associated with the heart and the heart is where we’ve put the idea of love. So since all that is red people project that onto flowers. But red can also mean war and violence, you could hand someone a red rose and they think it's a confession. When really they are about to kill you. With that being said Miss Chemintine, never accept a green rose, they don’t exist but if someone gave you a green rose that does mean they wish to kill you.” I chuckled a bit when Chemintine’s eyes lit up and her smile dropped.

“Green roses?” She whispered with concern.

“Green is the real colour of life and death, we just wear black because they think the color is scary, full of mystery, and in many ways more powerful.” I looked out the side of my eye at Chemintine then ran my fingers up my exposed wrist. She gasped then playfully hit my shoulder when he realized what I was indicating. I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

“Why black though?”

“I have a question for you, Chemintine. Do you know the city Tusla, in Oklahoma?” I turned to her fully and placed a hand on my hip. Chemintine shook her head slowly and tangled her fingers together nervously. I knew it was a dumb question to ask her, not many people knew about it since it was covered up. “Tulsa, Oklahoma, in Greenwood District was the nergo Wall Street. It was beautiful, wealthy, and they were all powerful people with so much knowledge. The white people didn’t like that they could wear nice things, have nice houses, and speak the queen’s English. So they burnt it to the ground and tried to kill anyone there, they got 36. They saw black and could only think of raged and deep down fear. How dare a nergo be better than the whites that lived around them? How dear the colour black is better than all the other colours in the sky? I was only twelve when three of my cousins came home as orphans and my mama took one of them in. This was in May through June of 1921.”

The look on my face sent shivers down Chemintine’s spine as if I told her her time was soon. She would never understand the feelings I had but she knew people than to doubt them. Chemintine shook her head and gasped, she gripped her apron and turned away from me. I took a deep breath and let it out quickly before reaching a handout and patting her shoulder.

“Ester, I never knew about that, I have family in Oklahoma, I never heard any of that.” Chemintine became so uneasy and nervous, she was imagining the days and fear and unfairness.

“Chemintine you weren’t supposed to and I don’t think anyone that isn’t black is going to.” It hurt me so much to say that outloud. The people that were hurt would be forgotten and the story of my people in Tulsa would be forgotten and swept under the American flag as a minor event that meant nothing. Nothing for them but everything for me and my own. 

I had to change the mood around us or god forbid Chemintine would be crying later when we went home. “Come on now, no crying and being sad at work, that’s my history, not yours which means you shouldn’t feel anything.” I patted her back once again but Chemintine quickly and aggressively shook her head.

“Easter, I care so much for you, it makes me upset because you and anyone should have to go through that. That’s ugly and nasty and anyone that has done that should riot in hell.” Chemintine sounded as if she was going to go witch hunting for every curl person in the world. I could only smile and be grateful for one like minded person.

“You sure are built differently, Chem.” I told her and that made her smile with so much pride.

“Mrs Birdy says the same thing.” Chemintine mood has shifted and I could till she was a bit better. He happily turned on her heels and went towards the back of the shop. I should have gone with her so I could get to work but once again I was staring out the window towards the bakery. Today the owner’s son was outside replacing the yellow lilies, but as he repotted the flowers I saw shades of purple beside the yellow. He placed purple hyacinths, the flower of forgiveness, he must have really felt bad for the lilies. He must have felt bad for all the people that were turned away as well. When he stood up and dusted himself off he looked around the street as the people passed. He sighed and turned back to walk into the shop. He was becoming tired as time passed and I knew soon he would leave working with his father in favour of something else. I could only hope it was something good for everyone.

The rest of the day was as normal as always, customers came and picked up their commissions, new faces came in to have something done, and Monique and her lap dog Clover complained about my presents. Surely one day they would get tired of saying the same ol’thing about me. Maybe one day they come up with something clever, but two brainless pits could never conquer enough brainpower for that. As I shake off today's work from my dress and hang up my apron I notice Chemintine still working away at her desk.

“It’s time to go, Chemintine,” I walked up beside her and peeked over her shoulder. “What are you working on?”

“A man came in asking for the cuffs of his coat to be fixed but every time I put the stitches in they keep coming out. It’s starting to piss me off, I have to get this done today because he’ll be here to get it in the morning as soon as we open. I don’t want to take this home with me either.” Chemintine threw down her needle and thread and crossed her arms. I sighed and gently pushed her shoulder for her to move out the way. When she got up I could fully see what I was dealing with and it didn’t seem like it would take longer. I peeked up to the clock above the door, it was 4 pm and the bus came a half past, which meant that this should only take me ten minutes to finish. 

I quickly smooth out the arms of the coat and pick up Chemintine’s needle and replace the thread with my own royal blue. The coat is pure white with red and gold trimming and edged in black. I picked up the right sleeve to see the work Chemintine already did. She used the cross stitched that should have held everything in place. I started pulling out the stitching and began restitching everything with an invisible understitch. Within five minutes I finish the cuff and move on to the next one. Chemintine stood behind me the whole time clenching her dress hoping the thread would stay. When I finished with the other cuff I tied everything off and snipped the extra. 

I tugged on the threads to see if they would come out again and they didn’t. Chemintine gasped and asked me how I got them to stay and I shrugged.

“I tried that and they still wouldn’t sit...Easter are you magical? I mean you are but are you even more magical?” Chemintine held up the cuffs once again and gently pulled on them to double check. I didn’t know how to answer that myself, her stitching should have been just fine compared to my own. For why it didn’t work was just as much a mystery to me as it was to her. 

“I’m no more magical than you already believe. Now hurry up so we can make the bus.”

“Yes ma’am!” Chemintine spun on her heels and headed to an open box on the back wall to fold and wrap the jacket and package it away. I grabbed our jackets from the rack and handed Chemintine hers. She thanked me and we headed to the front so we could close up shop. Mrs Birdy only allowed me or Chemintine the second set of store keys to lock up. Monique and Clover had already lost them before and Mrs Birdy was no fool to trust them again. Luckily for the old lady Chemintine and I was a wonder pair despite how different we were. 

We didn’t make the bus. It was impossible in a very strange way as we were there long before the bus was meant to arrive. Two other buses came and stopped asking Chemintine if she was getting on, never asking me, and she quickly shooed them away. We waited another thirty minutes before we gave up and started walking home. Thankfully it was the beginning of Spring so we didn’t have to worry about the sun setting at the nick of 5 or 6. So in our prime, we started our journey back to my house. Chemintine was in high spirits with a continuous conversation. But I wasn’t, I was never a walking girl let alone a distance one, even in my lowest pair of heels I internally begged for a break. But I couldn’t voice that out loud, Chemintine would laugh at me and once again tell me about her time on the farm. She tells me over and over again how I would like the farm and all the animals. I would tell her once again that I wasn’t going to a farm for more labour.

As we passed by some off roadhouses that laid far from the dirt road I noticed a car coming towards us. Chemintine did too and sighed, she looked over at me then smiled weakly, it was in our agreement that when someone was coming by we would separate. It was my idea and Chemintine hated every bit of it. She understood why I said it but she wore her heart open that she would rather stand right beside me than five steps forward. As she put distance between us so the car could drive by with little speculations, we both realized the car started to slow down. Surely whoever was driving would have noticed sweet darling Chemintine and offered her a ride so she wouldn’t be walking with a nergo behind her. 

Chemintine straightened her back and clutched her purse ready to reject the driver. I lowered my head down and prepared myself to excuse myself around Chemintine and the driver as they spoke. The car was on us but drove right past Chemintine and stopped in front of me. My heart nearly jumped to my throat as I heard the wheels stop and the engine cool. I started to pick up my feet even more afraid to look up and see who was coming after me. I looked up and saw Chemintine hurrying to take off her shoes and once they were off she dropped everything and came running towards me. We shared the same scared expression of fear and the what if of this untimely situation. 

Chemintine grabbed my arm and pulled me close to her, “Come on Ester!” I stumbled a bit before finding my foot.

“Wait! Ladies! Ester!” I stopped when I heard my name and foolishly turned around. Chemintine shook her head and told me to forget about it and come on but I had to know who called my name. Alastor was standing outside the car waving his hand in the air. He was dressed as dapper as he was the day he came into the shop. He wore the suit I made him and his hair was combed back with a pig’s tail hanging just above his brow. He looked like he was heading towards the city for a night out, he looked handsome. Chemintine pulled me once again and I turned back to yank my arm out of her grasp. I whispered it was okay but she didn’t believe me and stayed close behind me with one shoe in hand. Alastor looked up and down the street before coming over to us. 

“Ladies, what a wonderful surprise, Ester I wouldn’t take you for one that prefers walking.” Alastor wore his transatlantic accent as he spoke and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. He snickered and I puffed out my chest to seem confident.

“Well Mister Alastor, with all due respect, you know nothing of me  so you wouldn’t be able to make such assumptions.” Alastor's eyes went wide and a smile crept its way onto his face. Then he let out a roaring laugh and held his chest.

“You’d be right but I know a walking lady when I see one, you ain’t one.” Alastor’s accent fell from its high and pompous to it’s Yat New Orleans charm. Once again his voice nearly made my face heat up and the fluttering in my stomach turn over too many times. “Now, this girl here,” Alastor broke eye contact with me and looked towards Chemintine. He looked her up and down for a moment then smiled politely. “This girl be a walking girl, hell might even be a running girl by the way she threw off her shoes.”

Chemintine became red in the face as she dropped her shoe and looked away. Alastor shook his head and chuckled before pulling out his pocket watch to check the time. He hummed then placed the watch back before smoothing down his already smooth hair and shaking off his jacket.

“Where ya girl’s heading?”

“Home.” I quickly answered, I shooed Chemintine off to go collect all her stuff and she quickly did. Alastor looked over me toward Chemintine then back towards me with a mischievous look in his eye.

“She doesn’t belong this way does she?” I felt my heart stop and the air around me became stale and hard to breathe. I slowly turned back towards him then down to the ground. I gripped the cuffs of my coat and kept my eyes low. The last thing I needed was for his man to try and crack information out of me. He seemed to catch on and I heard him chuckle again, this time it sounded more teasing than ever. “She’s not city  but she’s not black either.”

“And you are?” As soon as the words came out I shot my hand up to cover my mouth in fear. I had no idea how Alastor would react to that and I was scared of what would come next. I closed my eyes and stepped back a bit waiting for something, I’ve been hit before, kicked and even spat on by ugly people. I only hoped that his hits would leave me able to walk away when he got tired.

“Well I hope so, my mother was a fine woman of ebony and gold, I get most of my looks from her.” Alastor’s words felt like they could rip me apart slowly but he stopped them before they could. I opened my eyes and saw him standing straight up with half hooded eyes and a gentle smile. “Just because I’m passing doesn’t mean I forget where I come from, Miss Ester. I'm sure you have a few of us in your family.”

“Not any that actually cared enough to say there were. All of them went off for something better.”

“They be a fool to forget their roots.” Alastor was so close to me, I didn’t even realize that he had moved. Or had it been I that got closer to him? I had no idea, what I did know was that now that I was close I could feel how strange it was to be around him. Strange, dangerous, yet welcoming, and a bit of trust tied into a tall man with dangerously beautiful eyes. I held my breath and took a step back which made him snicker at my dismay. 

“W-Well Mister Alastor we have to be on our way, have a lovely evening.”

“Why don’t I give you all a ride?” 

“That wouldn’t be necessary, you look like you have somewhere to be and I wouldn’t want to dirty up your car with muddy feet.” I turned away and started to meet up with Chemintine as she was making her way back. Alastor quickly took long strolls in front of me to cut me off. Curse him and his damn long legs.

“No really I insist.” His voice lowered and I thought for a moment I was once again in danger. Before I could snap back and tell him off he was already turned around and chatting up Chemintine’s ear. He hooked an arm through hers and even offered to take her coat for her. She was smitten and already passing me by to get to his car. 

Once they got to the car Chemintine turned back towards me and smiled largely. “Come on Ester! Mister Hazbin is gonna give us a ride!” Hazbin? So that was his last name.

“No Chemintine, we are walking.” I tried to protest but she was already jumping into the passenger seat and Alastor was closing the door. He smirked at me then walked around to the driver’s seat. He stood upon the ledge of the door to peeked over the roof and propped his elbow up to rest his chin in his palm.

“Come on darling, I can hear your dogs barking all the way over here.” He started laughing and Chemintine joined him so casually. I could have turned around and started walking away from them but I knew Chemintine wouldn’t allow that. Nor would Alastor as they both would likely follow me all the way back home. I was hesitant as any normal person with a working brain should be to get into a customer’s, let alone a stranger’s, car. Once I made my way to the back seat I realized just how suited up and fancy the car was. The outside of it was black with whitewall tires, yet the seats and coating on the inside were all red. Alastor started up the car and turned us around to head in the right way. 

“Now I won't pretend to know where I’m going and I’d be rude to ask Miss Chemintine here. So Miss Ester, would you mind telling me where to?” I looked out the window as we passed a few more houses then sighed as I looked forward. Alastor glared at me from the rearview mirror and I felt my soul shakedown to the core. His eyes were red and glowing and it scared me the longer I continued to look at him. I don't know how long we looked at each other but it was him that broke his gaze and looked back towards the road. “Well, Miss Ester?”

“K-Keep straight and when you come to the old mill, turn right.”

}~~{

When he got to my neighbourhood I told Alastor to let us out right before we got to the house. He didn’t try to fight me on it and did as he was told. I quickly climbed out of the car and waited for Chemintine to follow suit.

“Oh thank you Mister Hazbin! Oh gosh, I know I dirty your floor with all the dirt on my shoes and I apologize.” Chemintine was halfway out the car window as she spoke to Alastor.

“Oh, no worries dear! Nothing a good cleaning can’t fix, I’m just happy I was able to save you two a long walking trip. Now if you excuse me.” Chemintine smiled and nodded. “Goodbye Chemintine. I’ll be seeing you later Miss Ester.” Alastor spun the car around and took off down the street the way he came. When he was out of sight Chemintine stomped her foot and turned to me with cheeks red as cherries.

“Ester Scott you didn’t tell me you knew Alastor J. Hazbin!”

“I-I don’t!” 

“Well, surely you do if he knows you and offered us a ride.” Chemintine cupped her face and started mumbling to herself about how much of a mess she must have looked to him. I had no idea what had gotten into her.

“Chemintine who the hell is Alastor J. Hazbin?” I crossed my arms and tapped my foot, annoyed and starting to leave her where she stood.

“Alastor J. Hazbin is the man that just gave us a ride. Alastor J. Hazbin is the renowned radio host from New Orleans that made his way all the way to Hollywood to New York and back. That man has so much social class you wouldn’t believe!” Chemintine burst with joy as she went on to tell me all the amazing things Alastor has done in the radio business and in Hollywood. To say I wasn’t a little bit impressed would be lying. The customer I not only made a suit for but also danced with was basically a celebrity in the coming age. I started to feel bad for how coldly I must have acted towards him but then again I knew better. Just because someone had money didn’t mean they were kind, that was evident with the Jim Crow laws. Maybe I had a right to be wary of Alastor but I should have been a bit nicer. 

“I had no idea,” was the only thing I could say as Chemintine looked at me bewildered. “I danced with him at the ball, I had no idea.”

“Whatcha mean you danced with him? Ester! Was that him?” Chemintine pulled me by my shoulders and shook me gently. I nodded and she let go of me and let out a scream. That was enough to snap me back to reality and pull her along to the house. I didn’t need people looking out their windows trying to figure out what the crazy white woman was doing in the middle of the street.

When we made it to my house and behind closed doors, Chemintine was spinning around in circles smiling and laughing. “Oh Ester, I’m so jealous, I wish I had a celebrity for a customer.” She fell onto my couch and sighed. “I nearly threw my shoe at him,  oh that's so embarrassing, I was gonna attack Alastor J. Hazbin trying to protect my friend.”

“I didn’t know you were a runner.” I laughed and hung up my coat before making my way to the armchair beside her. Chemintine let out a huff of air and shrugged before straightening up.

“Well, I had to do a lot of running around the farm. I got powerful legs, I was gonna use them to get you to safety if I had to.”

“Well, I thank you, Chem. But I don’t think I’m lucky to have made Mister Alastor a suit. He won't remember me when he leaves New Orleans again and goes back to his big wig designers.” I kicked off my shoes and rubbed my feet, my lord I’m so young but I have the pains of an old woman.

“Oh yes, he will! He’ll remember you like he did today when he called your name. A man only calls out to someone he knows never a stranger.”

“If you say so.” I brushed her off and switched to my other foot to message.

“I know so, so when you two get closer please remember me and also remember I look good in bright shades. I refuse to wear brown to a wedding.”

“Chemintine get ya head out the clouds, ain’t no way that man and me will never cross paths again in the future.” I waved my hand in the air to dismiss her and she sighed and got up from the couch.

“Sure sure whatever, now, whatcha craving tonight, I’m thinking Italian.” Chemintine kicked off her shoes by the door then headed into the kitchen.

“Whatever you wish to make is fine by me.”