#meant to finish this for Halloween obviously but then I was sick for a week :

[kelpiegry-art]

Beware, there are babes in the woods.

[hollywoodxwhore]

wanted - part 8

Colson Baker x Original Female Character x Pete Davidson

Warnings: Smut (18+, nothing too crazy happens yet), drinking, swearing

Word Count: 4199

I'm sick which isn't fun but at least it's giving me time to sit around and write. Working on part 9 right now so maybe that will be up this weekend, too.

It’s finally Halloween, my favorite night of the entire year, and I’m so excited to put thoughts of Colson and Pete out of my head and just enjoy the night. 

Our group is going to a haunted house together, followed by a small get together at the boys’ house. Baze works in the haunted house, so we promised him we’d come on Halloween. I’m slightly anxious. I love horror movies and all things scary, but jump scares get me every time and I know I’m going to look silly. But I’m comfortable with my friends. I know they won’t judge me, and if they do, it’ll all be in good fun. 

The girls and I are at my place getting ready for the night. We’re all getting into our costumes, doing our hair and makeup, and chattering away. Sophie curls Alicia’s long hair and I’m standing over Justin’s girlfriend, Olive, carefully dusting her lids with eyeshadow. We’re going as the girls from Mean Girls at their Christmas talent show. Santa hats, short, red pleather skirts with fluffy, white trim, cropped red tank tops, black gloves, black belts, and black, high-heeled boots. It’s not the most practical costume, but we all wanted to do it.

I finish Olive’s makeup and turn to face my full-length mirror, leaning in to put lipstick on. I smooth my hair and go sit on my bed while I wait for the others to be ready. We’re all buzzing with energy, so excited for the haunted house and the party afterwards. It’s going to be a great night. 

“So Alex,” Alicia chimes in, glancing over at me from where she sits on the floor, careful of the hot curling iron in Sophie’s hand. “What’s new with Pete?”

I snort. “Absolutely fucking nothing,” I say, crossing one leg over the other as I try to find a position that’s comfortable in a pleather skirt. “We haven’t talked.”

Sophie shakes her head. “That’s just crazy,” she mutters.

“Wait, Pete?” Olive asks, looking over at me. “What’s going on with you and Pete?”

I sigh, busying myself with staring at my nails. “We hooked up one night,” I tell her. “I thought he had feelings for me and then he basically ghosted me.”

“Which is awkward since we’re all in the same friend group,” Alicia adds. I frown, feeling guilty, but Alicia’s eyes widen and she shakes her head, earning a swat on the shoulder from Sophie. “Oh, Alex, and I meant he made it awkward. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I think she’s moved on,” Sophie says with a smirk. 

I glare at her, narrowing my eyes. “Don’t start on that shit again,” I mutter.

“What?” Olive asks frantically, looking between me and Sophie. 

I roll my eyes. “Sophie thinks Colson likes me,” I say.

“So does Alicia,” Alicia adds.

“You guys could not be more wrong if you tried,” I say, shaking my head. 

Alicia snorts. “Whatever, Alex,” she says. “He’s obsessed with you.”

“Why do you guys think that?” Olive asks Alicia and Sophie.

Sophie releases her curling iron and switches it off, resting it on my desk. She pats Alicia on the head and Alicia gets to her feet, joining me on my bed. “Remember that party we had a few weeks ago when Colson and Alex disappeared out of nowhere and Colson cut his face open?”

“Yeah,” Olive says with a wince. 

“Alex took him to the ER,” Sophie explains, “and then he spent the night with her after.”

“That means nothing,” I mumble, cheeks flushing.

“Oh really?” Alicia asks, cocking her head to the side as she looks at me. “Is that why you slept in your bed together and he wanted to cuddle you for warmth?”

“For warmth,” I repeat, pointing at her. “It was just practical.”

Alicia snorts. “You’re so full of shit, Alex,” she accuses. “I don’t know why you don’t see it.”

“Say that, by some crazy chance, Colson does like me,” I say. “He’s obviously not going to do anything about it and neither am I. He’s only nice to me when it’s just the two of us.”

Olive frowns. “That’s shitty,” she says. “Are we in high school?”

“Apparently,” I agree. “I confronted him about it and he apologized. I haven’t really seen him since. We’ll see how he acts tonight.”

“Is Pete coming tonight?” Olive asks. I nod. She nods, too. “Wow. This is dramatic.”

I can’t help but laugh, nodding in agreement. “More drama than I’m used to,” I tell her.

“Alright, we gotta go,” Sophie announces, getting to her feet. We all put on our jackets, grab our purses, and head down to Sophie’s car. 

We meet in the parking lot at the haunted house. Rook, Logan, and Justin freak out over their girlfriends’ outfits and I hover self-consciously on the outskirts of the conversation. Colson and Pete aren’t here yet. They’re usually late. Slim comes over to me and wraps his arm around my shoulder. “You look great, too, Alex,” he says.

I can’t help but smile, wrapping my arm around his waist. “Thanks, Slim,” I say gratefully. “You look good, too. That costume is perfect.” 

The boys decided to coordinate, too, dressing as famous horror movie villains. Slim is Freddy Krueger, and he holds a mask in his hand. He’s doctored a shirt to look just like Freddy’s and it’s seriously perfect. Rook is Pinhead from Hellraiser and Logan is Leatherface from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Colson and Pete are Michael Myers and Jason Voorhees. 

Just then, Colson’s car speeds into the parking lot and veers into a spot near where we’re standing. He and Pete hop out of the car and my mouth dries up. It should be illegal for Colson to look sexy in a murderer costume, but god, he does. He wears a blue jumpsuit but it fits him perfectly, draping over his long frame, and his hair is messy. He doesn’t wear a shirt beneath the suit so his chest tattoos are on display. 

Pete is dressed as the perfect Jason Voorhees, and I’m super impressed at their costumes. I’m glad Pete’s wearing his mask already because seeing his face hurts every time. I hold my breath as they approach, wondering how Colson’s going to act, but he walks right up to me and wraps me in a tight hug. I’m surprised by the gesture, but after a moment, I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him back. 

“You look amazing,” he murmurs in my ear, breath warm enough to make me shiver. 

“So do you,” I agree. He pulls back and looks me up and down. 

“Do I get to see it without the coat?” he asks.

“When we’re not outside in the freezing cold,” I retort, wrapping my arms around myself for emphasis. 

Colson smiles. “Don’t worry. It’s always hot as hell in haunted houses,” he says. He goes to greet the others and Pete walks up to me. I swallow hard and look at the eye holes on his mask.

“Hey,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks like he’s just remembered he’s wearing a mask and he quickly takes it off his face, clutching it between both hands. 

“Hey,” I say quietly. “I like your costume.”

“Uh, yeah, yours too,” he says. “Er, I mean, I can’t really see it, but I’m sure it looks great.” He fiddles with his mask. “Look. Alex.” I shift uncomfortably, trying to hold eye contact with him. “I’m sorry,” he says. “What I did was shitty. It…it wasn’t you. Okay?”

“You don’t have to explain,” I tell him, holding up a hand. “It’s fine. Alright?” It’s not really fine, but I’m not up for talking about it, for listening to Pete explain why he hooked up with me and then ghosted me. Tonight is meant to be fun. 

“Hey,” Slim calls at us. “You guys ready?”

“Ready,” we say in unison, and we exchange one more glance before going to join the group. 

After paying, we all stand in a line outside of the house, waiting our turn. We’ll get to go in as a group, which will be good. I always feel safer in groups. The air is cold and windy, and I’m hugging my body tightly as I shiver. These outfits are so damn impractical. We should’ve just changed after the haunted house. I turn to tell Sophie as much when I feel a warm arm wrap around me. 

“You look cold,” Colson says, rubbing his hand up and down my bicep.

“I am,” I admit. “It’s freezing out here. Shouldn’t have worn our costumes here.”

Colson chuckles. “But they look great,” he says. I can’t help but smile as I turn into his warm body, letting my arms surround his thin waist. 

“Where did you even find a jumpsuit that fit your tall ass?” I tease.

Colson laughs. “Got it online. Read lots of reviews,” he explains. “I actually really like it. I’m gonna wear it again.”

“Yeah, me too,” I agree. Colson meets my eyes and smiles and I smile too, bashfully. “Hey,” I say. 

“Hm?” Colson reponds, holding my gaze with those pretty blue eyes.

“Thanks,” I say. “For acting like I exist in front of our friends.”

Colson grins softly and nods. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t for so long,” he says. 

I’m quiet as I slip my hands into the pockets of his jumpsuit, trying to warm them, and he hugs me closer, rubbing my back. Even if Colson and I are just friends, I love being around him when he’s like this. I can’t deny it. I feel such a strong pull towards him and I can’t help myself but let him hold me. Besides, I really am cold.

Our group is told that we can enter the haunted house and I look up at Colson anxiously. He chuckles, brow furrowing. “Are you scared?” he asks.

“I don’t like jumpscares,” I say sheepishly. “Or being chased. Or chainsaws.”

Colson laughs. “You came to the wrong place, then.”

I groan and close my eyes. “I know.”

Colson chuckles. “I’ll protect you. C’mon.” He lets go of me in favor of offering his arm, and I gladly take it, squeezing close to him as we step inside the dark house. 

I know the point of a haunted house is to scare guests, but I can help but feel in awe at the design. It’s so creative and I can tell so much work has gone into the set, the costumes, and the special effects. The characters look awesome, truly scary, and I’m sure the house has had a really successful season. I’m lost in my admiration of the house when a guy jumps right at me, causing me to scream at the top of my lungs and stumble into Colson, who laughs. 

“Jesus! He scared the shit out of me,” I say, heart hammering in my chest as I cling to Colson’s arm, trying to get closer. 

He pulls his arm away in favor of wrapping it around me, tugging me into his side. “Do you know who that is?” he asks.

I glance at the character, wincing, but as soon as I see the long hair peeking out from behind his mask, a grin spreads across my face. “Aw, fuck you, Baze,” I say. “You scared the shit out of me.” He lifts his mask to wink at me and then he’s back in character. Colson pulls me along with him into the next room.

The sound of chainsaws grows in the distance and I groan. “Oh god,” I mutter. “I hate guys with chainsaws.”

“Does anyone like guys with chainsaws?” Colson asks. I swat at his stomach and he laughs, holding me tight as we stumble through the rooms. We walk out into the outdoor portion of the haunted house, and the guys with the chainsaws are right there, lunging at us and ambling after us. I scream and bury my face in Colson’s chest, trusting him to drag me along. At least I was smart enough to change out of the heeled boots before the haunted house. 

By the time it’s over, I’m exhausted and my throat hurts from screaming. Everyone stumbles from the house in a fit of laughter, falling into each other as we walk the dirt path back to the parking lot. “That was sick,” Rook says. 

“Agreed,” Alicia says, squeezing his hand.

“Let’s get back to the crib and drink, shit,” Slim says, and we all laugh. We pile into cars and head back to the boys’ house. Colson and Pete beat everyone there, and by the time we walk in, it’s dark and music is blaring from the speakers. String lights are hung around the house and they’ve even put out a few decorations. 

Alicia and Sophie went over earlier to bring food, so snacks sit out and the fridge and liquor cabinet are stocked with drinks. I watch as Colson pours a glass of red wine, his most recent favorite, and I grimace. I hate red wine. I opt for a bottle of rum instead, mixing it with pineapple juice and some grenadine. 

Sophie comes up beside me and slings an arm over my shoulders. “Can we please play beer pong?” she asks, looking at Colson, who just grins. “Give me and Alex a chance to kick yours and Pete’s asses.”

Colson shakes his head and chuckles, picking up his wine glass. “Alright, deal,” he says. “Go find Pete.”

“On it!” Sophie chirps, skipping away to do just that.

“Red wine,” I say, shaking my head and wrinkling my nose.

Colson nods. “Sorry your taste isn’t as sophisticated as mine,” he says, falsely snooty. 

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’ll be just as hungover as me tomorrow,” I tell him, and he laughs. It’s then that he seems to realize my coat has come off and my black boots are back on. His smile fades as his eyes drop to my outfit, and I watch his throat bob with a hard swallow. 

“You look good, Alex,” he says, voice lower than it was a moment ago. 

I tuck one leg behind the other self-consciously. “Really?” I ask. Colson just nods, eyes dark. “Thank you,”  I say shyly. 

“Found him!” Sophie calls. “Come on, you two!” Colson and I join Sophie and Pete at the beer pong table and I prepare myself for the game. 

“When will you girls learn that you can’t beat us,” Pete says, voice laced with pity.

“Oh, shut it, Davidson,” I say playfully, dropping a ping-pong ball into a red plastic cup to wet it. “Act like Sophie and I haven’t beat you several times.”

“Tonight won’t be one of those times,” he says, narrowing his eyes as I step back, getting ready to toss the ball. I sink it into a cup in the back row and Sophie high-fives me. Her ball misses, so now it’s the guys’ turn. We banter for the entire time, and before I know it, the awkwardness with Pete is all but forgotten. I really start to relax, glad that the weirdness is over. 

Unfortunately, the guys do win, but we can’t mope for long because Baze shows up with a bottle of Patron and a baggie of plastic shot glasses. We all cheer and join him at the kitchen counter as he doles out the shots. “Happy fucking Halloween,” he says, and we all toss our shots back. What a perfect night. 

I’m drunk.

Happily drunk. Sophie and I are dancing on the kitchen table like a couple of drunk, rowdy college girls…which I guess we basically are. We hold hands and raise our glasses, dancing drunkenly to No Hands. We’re screaming the words at the top of our lungs, laughing and having so much fun. The heeled boots have come off and we’re both barefoot, our Santa hats given carelessly away. Baze wears mine and Rook wears Sophie’s, which look hilarious with their costumes. 

Dancing on the table isn’t our brightest idea, especially because people have been making drinks on the table and it’s slippery in places. The song changes, and as it does, my foot lands in a puddle of liquid. I shriek as I slip, flying off the table, and straight out of a fucking movie, I land with an oof in none other than Colson’s arms. It’s such a cliche moment that I start to laugh, so hard I snort. Colson looks shocked, then delighted, and begins to laugh, too. 

We laugh together for a long few moments, my body still cradled in his arms, and I wipe at my eyes once we calm down a bit. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say through giggles. “Are you? You just caught my whole body.”

Colson laughs and bounces me in his arms, causing me to shriek. “You’re not heavy.”

“Maybe you’re just strong,” I slur, squeezing his bicep. Colson grins, and god, he’s just so cute. Cute and sexy at the same time. Cutesy? Scute? I’m drunk. 

“What’s going on in that head?” Colson asks with a laugh.

I just shake my head, giggling. “Nothing that makes sense,” I assure him. “Fuck, it’s hot in here.”

“Wanna go outside?” he asks. I nod and he sets me carefully onto my feet. He takes my hand and guides me onto the back porch, sliding the door closed behind us.

It feels amazing outside, the cool air drying the sweat on my skin, and I’m too drunk to mind that I’m barefoot and stepping on dead leaves matted to the porch. I lean on the railing and sigh. “Are you having fun?” I ask Colson.

“Yeah,” he says, coming up beside me. His jumpsuit is peeled halfway off his body so he’s shirtless, just wearing the bottoms with the top dangling down, and I’m immediately distracted by his tattoos. I turn to face him, reaching up to poke at his nipple. 

“Why a spider?” I ask.

Colson laughs, looking down. “Dunno. I thought it was cool, I guess.” He shrugs. 

I nod, as if that makes all the sense in the world. My fingers trace more of his tattoos and he’s quiet as I do, letting me explore. His chest rises and falls slowly, and I admire the contours of his muscles, his ribs. Sober, I would never do this. But I’ve had a lot to drink and my hands have been aching for so long to explore his body. Not even in a dirty way. I just want to know him. 

It takes me a moment to realize Colson’s hands are on my waist, slowly sliding up and down, but it feels nice, and I let out a soft hum at the sensations. His big hands curl around my hips and I gasp softly as suddenly, he pulls me flush to him. He leans down so his lips touch my ear. “You’re killing me, touching me like that,” he rasps, and suddenly, everything is different. 

I don’t stop, letting my hands drift around to his back, gently touching the skin there. It’s warm and taut, rippled with muscle, and I lean into his neck, breathing him in. My eyes flutter closed as I press my face into the curve of his neck and shoulder. His hands tighten on my waist and his breathing goes ragged. I feel him subtly trying to pull his hips back but in a moment of drunken boldness, my hands find his ass and pull him back in. 

He groans softly. “Alex.” My name is a breathless sigh on his lips and it sends an ache right between my thighs. His hips pressed to mine, I can feel him, half-hard beneath his jumpsuit and boxers. But that’s okay, because just being close to him, breathing his scent and feeling his hands on me, has wetness pooling in my panties. Inhibitions lowered, I can admit in my head what I really want: him. 

I pull my face away from his neck but stay close, tipping my face up to his. He towers over me without my heels, and he has to duck his head down to be close to me. His lips are parted and he breathes shallowly. “Colson,” I breathe. “Kiss me.” My voice is pleading, hands fisting his jumpsuit, and he listens. His face comes down to meet mine and I shiver as he finally kisses me. 

His lips are warm and soft and the kiss is perfectly firm and gentle at the same time. Our lips part in time with one another’s and a soft sigh falls from my lips as he kisses me in a way that doesn’t even compare to any other way I’ve been kissed. Thoughts of everything but him fall from my brain and I focus on this one moment. His hands are in my hair, cupping my face, and mine move up his rippled abdomen to his warm chest as his lips slide against mine. 

“Fuck,” he says tightly after a few moments, both of us needing to catch our breath. He’s fully hard now, I can feel it, and I let my hand drift down his stomach as I look into his eyes. His pupils are so wide I can barely see the blue in the pale light of the porch.

“Colson,” I murmur, fingertips finding the top of his boxers. “Wanna touch you. Let me touch you. Please.”

Colson lets out a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “God, I want you to,” he says roughly. His hands slide down to cup my ass, squeezing gently. He kisses me again, hard. “Want to take you right here, outside.” I whimper softly, knees quivering. It’s hard to stay standing and focus on everything - his erection, his big hands on my ass, the way he smells and tastes. The intense urge to wrap my hand around his cock. 

“But we’re drunk,” he sighs. 

I whine and let my forehead drop to his chest. “So?” I hate how petulant I sound, like a toddler who didn’t get her way.

Colson chuckles softly and removes his hands, wrapping his arms around me as he kisses my forehead. “I’m not going to be distracted the first time I touch you,” he murmurs against my forehead and my eyes drift closed. Desire wraps so tightly around me I can barely breathe. “And I’m definitely not going to be the first time you touch me.”

“No fair,” I pout, and Colson chuckles softly, tipping my head up to kiss me softly.

“I know,” he says, smiling softly at me. I can’t help but smile back. He’s so cute. “Why don’t we grab something to eat and go to my room?”

I nod and let him take my hand, leading me inside. The kitchen has cleared out and the music is turned off. The lights are unplugged and the magic of the night is over. A glance at the clock on the stove tells me it’s past three in the morning. Damn. When did it get this late?

I prop myself up on the counter while Colson air-fries some pizza rolls, dumping them into a big bowl, and I take two water bottles from him when he offers them. He grabs a bottle of ibuprofen from the cupboard and leads me to his room.

We sit on his floor and scarf down the pizza rolls, chugging our waters as we talk and laugh. The tension has dissolved, and I still want him, but this is nice, too, soaking up the alcohol in our stomachs with greasy food, talking about everything and nothing. 

Finally, Colson gets to his feet and digs in his drawers, coming back with a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. “These are for you,” he says, holding them out to me. “Stay with me?”

I bite back a smile as I take the clothes, nodding. “Okay.” Colson grins and I turn to grab my bag, taking it with Colson’s clothes into his bathroom where I wash off my makeup, brush my teeth, and change. His clothes are soft and cozy and I smile at my reflection in the mirror before leaving the bathroom.

Colson has already changed into a pair of comfy shorts, no shirt, the band of his boxers peeking out from the shorts, and it’s so not fair for him to look this good when I can’t have him right now. I sigh dramatically and crawl into his bed, snuggling under the warm blankets while I wait for him to return. Drunkenly, I tell myself I can convince him that I’m not that drunk, but by the time he climbs into bed with me, I’m already half-asleep. 

I hear him chuckle softly and feel my head lift off the pillow to settle onto his chest. I sigh contentedly and sling my arm over his stomach, letting myself drift. As I hover on the edge of consciousness, I’m not sure if I’m dreaming or not when I hear Colson’s voice. “I’m so fucking glad I met you, Alex.”

[taegyuun]

finally, the wings took off | pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

genre: angst, fluff

pairing: sunghoon x reader

warnings: mentions of depression

word count: 1.5k

sunghoon was a guardian angel. albeit not a very good one, but still - it was his job to protect the human that he was assigned to.

lucky for you (or in this case unlucky), sunghoon was assigned to you.

sunghoon wasn’t very impressed with this and was already making up the reason for you needing a guardian angel. a stupid boyfriend cheated with your best friend and yadayadayada. hes had to deal with too many of these already, the same story over and over again. but when he was given your chart and the reasons for his assistance, it was blank.

other than your age, name and personal information that was on every identity card, there was nothing filled in.

you almost didn’t have a reason to be given a guardian angel. and that’s exactly why the higher ups gave you park sunghoon.

you didn’t correlate anything with life. you simply lived it. whether you were happy or not, didn’t matter to you. as long as you got through your day and managed to get back into bed, you were alright in your mind. but obviously, you shouldn’t live your life that way.

but how could you know that?

ever since childhood, your life has had a routine. wake up and get ready for school, get back and study - and of course repeat up until however long you’re in school for and then change ‘school’ to ‘work’. that’s life isn’t it? the same repeated thing over and over again, the only difference being if you washed your hair that day and the laundry you did.

you didn’t look at life the way a normal teenager should, but what could you do about it? your mind was so set on life being one consistent routine that you couldn’t view it as anything but. you didn’t go out, you didn’t talk to friends and some may say; were depressed.

“hey hyung, i think this chart was filled out wrong,” sunghoons voice was full of confusion, never seeing a blank chart before and he was usually given the shittiest people to deal with whom had barely any information.

“what? we never have any wrong charts, lemme see,” heesung quickly walked over and took the chart out of sunghoons hands, his large wings creating a shade over the both of them.

“ah, you got y/n. good luck hoon, you’re going to need it.” he then walked away after patting the other angels shoulder.

“what- what’s that meant to mean? yah- lEE HEESUNG GET BACK HERE AND EXPL-“ he then ran his hand over his face and sighed loudly, staring back down at the chart.

why on earth would he need luck? sure, he was usually given some weird cases considering how terrible he was at being an angel - being very honest and straight forward didn’t always work out in his favour. but being told “good luck” from heesung? it stressed him out beyond the imaginable.

that’s when park sunghoon realised you were going to be a hard nut to crack.

he watched from your desk, making himself invisible, as you peacefully slept, waiting for your alarm to start blaring and prepare you for your excruciatingly boring and almost painful day to start all over again. sunghoon has been watching you for the past few days and is already bored out of his mind watching you do the same exact thing for a whole week straight.

he’s begged and begged the higher up angels to give him another case, pathetically pleading that there was nothing wrong with you, simply that you were a boring and routine filled person - possibly suffering from OCD.

all he got in return was, “sunghoon, you moron. it would’ve said on their chart that they have OCD, and it’s nowhere mentioned on there,” or the other common one of, “sunghoon, i have no clue how you became an angel but you’re missing the point completely. look at the way they’re living their life and tell me theres nothing wrong.”

sunghoons only two respones to their words were something along the lines of, “but there was nothing on their chart in the first place!” or pure groans of boredom and agony of having to spend even more time with you and your boring days that drilled into his head.

angels had another special gift. other than the wings and living in what humans called heaven, they could also make themselves invisible or visible to the human eye. sunghoon and many angels never or very rarely used this, they tend to keep themselves invisible and make their humans’ lives better by small things that make a person happier, like finding money in a coat pocket or somehow meeting the person they’ve wanted to meet for years. that’s what guardian angels did. small, almost insignificant things that didn’t create any chaos in anyone else’s lives, but made their humans’ better.

sunghoon decided it was finally time to make himself visible and get down and dirty. he had enough of you eating the same exact meal every single day, not eating anything else but a bowl of cereal in the morning, rice and chicken for dinner and a piece of toast with jam on it as a snack before bed. you even had almost the same outfits on everyday. he groaned thinking about how dreadful it must be living your life.

and then it finally clicked.

your life was miserable. living alone at 18, having the same exact routine every single day, not talking to anyone and eating the same thing everyday. if sunghoon was in your position he might have ripped out his wings himself from going insane.

so that’s the reason behind your screaming when you woke up this morning.

after turning off your alarm, you expected to find yourself getting out of bed, lightly stretching and then leaving to go wash up in the bathroom. instead, to your displease, you find a tall, beautiful boy sat against your dresser with his arms crossed across his chest.

“literally what the fuck are you doing in my house?”

“hi, park sunghoon, 19 year old guardian angel. now, please tell me why your chart was empty and why the fuck you live your life like this so i can move onto another human.” your cheeks almost heat up at the sound of his voice and then your brain finally catches up to his words and it’s as if he almost sees the question marks appear above your head.

“i think you belong in a mental institution, please leave my home before i call the police.” sunghoon was genuinely surprised at how stern your voice sounded and he almost complied. but then he sighed loudly and made his wings appear - only to hear you scream again.

“ok this is clearly a dream i need to wake up.”

“y/n, please for the love of god listen to me. this isn’t a dream. every human has a guardian angel assigned to them at least once in their life time. i’m yours up until you get better i guess. for the past few weeks i’ve kept myself hidden and worked like usual, obviously away from your eyes but your chart was empty.” the sternness in his voice surprised you and that’s when you realised it wasn’t halloween or some sick dream and decided to listen to what he had to say.

“we don’t get given empty charts. angels need to know exactly what’s wrong with their human so they know how to control the world to help them. i haven’t been able to do anything to help you other than make you find random notes of money in some of your pockets because i have no clue who you are and why you require my help.” realisation hits you as you remember all the times you kept finding random coins or $5 bills in your coat or jean pockets every single time you went out, for the last few weeks.

he continues to speak and you start listening even more intently, interested why your “chart” was empty.

“but after watching you for some time now, i had to make myself visible to help you and be here with you because i’ve realised your life is misreable. y/n, i have no idea what happened to you but you’re obviously not ok and i’m here to fix that, alright? i’m not the best angel that you could’ve gotten but after seeing your life for the last 2 weeks and how you don’t change absolutely anything in your days, i’ll do my best to make your life how an 18 year old should be living.” he finished off giving you a gentle smile, almost surprised at how much he spoke to a stranger.

he quickly glanced at you and saw your wide eyes, still slightly confused but he also saw something else. a glint of some sort.

it was a small glint of hope.

[thecreelhouse]

✿ masterlist ✿

(updated 7/31/21)

all previously answered prompt requests for both Steve or Robin can be found here!

series/multipart

Kill the Lights (completed!)

Steve Harrington x Lab Survivor!OC (Violet)

Summary: After Violet- formally 003, a telekinetic, electrokinetic, and clairvoyant 19 year old- loses her first family, her first love, nothing is the same. She finds herself taken in by Hopper and El, struggling to find her footing and meaning to keep fighting. The Party, especially Steve Harrington, try to show her where her strengths have been hiding all alone, and that no one has to fight their battles alone. Sometimes you don’t need to be rescued, but someone’s love and support while you rescue yourself sure doesn’t hurt.

Hard to Kill (completed!)

Steve Harrington x Assassin!OC (Sofia)

Summary: Two years have passed since the battle of Starcourt, and Steve’s paranoia is destroying him. Turns out, he was right to anticipate someone was still after him, but he never anticipated an unlikely bond to appear between him and the Russian assassin out for his blood. Typical enemies to lovers.

Sweet Spot - 1, 2 & 3

Steve Harrington x Cam Girl!OC (Lex)

Summary: modern AU where Robin tells Steve about cam girls, and he falls hard for a stranger on the internet. This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve written yet, sorry, not sorry. Smut, obviously. But it’s cute, too.

Feral Love (completed!)

Steve Harrington x Witch!Reader (gender neutral)

Summary: You come from a long line of witches in dark magic. You’ve never felt like you belonged, always feeling like you’d rather do good than evil with your magic. Another escape attempt leads your life’s path overlapping with Steve Harrington’s life, and things take a turn darker than you’d ever imagine.

Within the FL universe:

You Are Where I Belong

Steve Harrington x Witch!Reader (gender neutral)

Summary: A little glimpse into the life you’ve built in Hawkins, side by side with your soulmate, Steve, as the two of you get ready to celebrate Halloween. (Continuation of Feral Love, it’ll make more sense if you’ve read the series, however it should be fine to read on its own!)

Friday, I’m in Love - 1, 2, 3 (completed!)

Robin Buckley x Female Reader

Summary: Finally nearing the end of your eventful lives, you and Robin meet, whether by fate or coincidence, and the rest is virtual history. A San Junipero AU!

Beautiful Stranger / Cosmic Love / Gonna Keep This Love

(completed!)

Robin Buckley x Witch!OC (Olive Lane)

Summary: Olive Lane, a witch in training, leaves home and relocates to an unfamiliar town, a tradition among witches her age to start fresh. Blissfully unaware of the bizarre and gruesome history Hawkins, Indiana holds, she settles on the small town, and seemingly blends in to her surroundings to its citizens. Everyone, except Robin, who is highly bothered and paranoid by the new, mysterious stranger, and needs to know who and what this girl is all about.

—————————

one shots

Like Vines, We Intertwined

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: It started with an exchange of friendship bracelets, meant to last as long as the bond between you two: forever. Life has a finicky way of defining “forever”, though.

So, You Like Movies?

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: You’re a horror movie buff with a love for special effects makeup, and Steve is deep in a crush over you, despite him disliking horror movies. Maybe something can work out.

Taking My Time, Let The World Turn

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve never expected to survive past 1985, yet life continued to surprise him, and for the better. Dad!Steve !!!

Wild Thing

Steve Harrington x OC (Rosie)

Summary: A meet ugly “I broke your nose in a mosh pit” AU

Take Care Of Yourself

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: you’ve been through enough shit to believe self care is building your walls high and keeping everyone out. The Universe has no problem challenging that, though. (The flower shop/soulmate AU nobody asked for.)

They/Them/Theirs

Steve Harrington x Non-Binary!Reader

Summary: Reader knows there’s something different with them, just can’t put a word on it. That’s not the only secret floating between them and Steve, though. Best friend to lovers nonsense (with NB representation!!)

All of You

Steve Harrington x Non-binary!Reader

Summary: just some cute comforting fluff about reader wanting to explore their gender expression and Steve being a supportive partner!! (follow up to they/them/theirs!)

Nowhere Feels Like Somewhere When I’m In Your Arms

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Summary: The fluffy naptime comfort fic that nobody asked for and then evolved into a long, emotional fic with a self indulgent ending. Oops.

Bad Behavior

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: The air conditioner finally breaks in the apartment you and Steve share, and it’s not just toying with the temperature. (AKA: “oH My GoD tHey WeRe RoOmMaTes !!!!11” nonsense and a whole lotta smut. Don’t like it, don’t read thx.)

Check Me-owt

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: you work at the new cafe in town, and Steve’s dying to talk to you, but there’s one thing holding him back from that: it’s a cat cafe, and he’s a nervous mess around cats. (AKA: the modern day coffee shop AU that nobody asked for)

Playin’ Hide and Seek With the Light

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: You’re coping with your demons in dangerous ways, but you’re coping. It’s something. You believed no one noticed until Steve confronts you. (AKA: another comfort fic nobody asked for)

Smarter Than You Think

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Since the battle of Starcourt, Steve hasn’t been sleeping well, and when he does sleep, it’s just reoccuring nightmares of the traumatic night. Until one night, it changes completely, and suddenly he’s not reliving his personal hell, he’s reliving someone else’s. (AKA: another darker twist on a soulmate AU that nobody asked for)

Made To Brave The Pain

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: The monsters in your life have been human, forcing you into a quiet, isolated world, disconnected from reality to keep yourself safe. What happens when you discover not all monsters are human, though? What do you do when the path of your trauma crosses paths with someone else’s? (AKA: a super trauma comfort fic, bc I’m working out my own shit through writing lol.)

I Wanna Get Better

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: your mental and physical health issues are a struggle enough the way it is, and you never imagined locking down for safety in your own apartment would make it all worse. thankfully, your’re not in quarantine alone, and ride it out with your roommate/best friend, Steve Harrington. (AKA: self indulgent quarantine comfort fic that absolutely nobody asked for. modern!AU, obviously.)

Lonely For Her

Robin Buckley x Female Henderson!OC (Jade Henderson)

Summary: Robin and Jade hate each other, and can’t put aside their differences, even during the events at Starcourt while their lives are on the line. Murray is sick of their shit, and finally calls them out. Enemies to lovers nonsense

Flowers in the Concrete

Robin Buckley x Female Reader

Summary: feelings are stupid, quitting smoking is stupid, put the two into the same room, and you’ve got emotion overload, baby!! (Or: reader is hopelessly head over heels for her best friend, and can’t find a way to go about it gracefully.) Best friends to lovers nonsense.

Happy Little Accidents

Robin Buckley x Hazel (OC) x Steve Harrington

Summary: Hazel’s got it bad for not one best friend, but both of them. Avoiding both Steve and Robin until it goes away should work, right? … Right?? (the weird, emotional, fluffy poly one nobody asked for (strictly platonic between Steve & Robin, ofc.))

—————————————

+18 AO3 links

The Detour

Kurt Kunkle (Spree) x AFAB Reader

Summary: After meeting Kurt just days before he kicks off “The Lesson”, you run into him again, and try distracting him from the original plan.

Warnings/Tags: abduction, knife play, breath play, anal play, dirty talk, humiliation, light bondage, oral sex, teasing, spanking, mentions of murder, movie spoilers

The Brat

Sub!Steve x Dom(me)!Reader

Summary: You give Steve orders not to touch himself for a week, but what fun would that even be without disobeying you?

Warnings/Tags: PWP, Brat!Steve, Sub!Steve, Dom(me)!Reader, BDSM, bondage and discipline, femdom, oral sex, anal play, teasing, humiliation, dirty talk, spanking, vaginal sex, anal sex, aftercare

The Bitter and the Sweet

Vampire!Steve x Reader

Summary: Going home with someone after parties isn’t foreign to you, but going home with an attractive vampire sure is.

Warnings/Tags: PWP, porn with feelings, BDSM, dom/sub, bondage and discipline, rough sex, oral sex, wax play, spanking, sex toys, pain play, dirty talk, biting, vampires, vampire sex, vampire!Steve, aftercare, modern AU

After Hours

Steve Harrington x AFAB Reader

Summary: The truth between you and Steve finally comes out, about your feelings for one another... and the way he likes being called ‘daddy’.

Warnings/Tags: PWP, dirty talk, daddy kink, friends to lovers, vaginal fingering, gratuitous use of ‘baby girl’, cunnilingus

Sugary Sweet

Steve Harrington x AFAB Reader

Summary: Steve reminisces on his horrid Scoops Ahoy! uniform, no matter how much you insist it was cute on him. To convince him, you follow through on a dirty, filthy thought.

Warnings/Tags: latex fetish, daddy kink, spit kink, food play, heavy petting, dirty talk, light dom/sub, punishment, wet & messy

Sudden Desire

Steve Harrington x AFAB Reader

Summary: You’re convinced sex is meaningless when every partner you’ve been with can never make you finish. Your best friend, Steve Harrington, is up to the challenge of changing that.

Warnings/Tags: fluff and smut, friends to lovers, best friends, friends with benefits, bff banter throughout, gratuitous use of sweetheart, vaginal sex, oral sex, no use of y/n, light dirty talk

[prose-for-hire]

Ats headcanons

I enjoyed doing the btvs characters, so I thought I would do some hcs for working in a store they frequent and meeting Angel characters, perhaps an obstacle to your relationship and how things would develop thereafter. 

[Yes, there is some overlap with some of the characters that I did for the btvs hcs but it’s different stores and scenarios and a lot of the characters have had a bit of development since then!]

Warning: Spoilers for probably every season. Sex reference (only in one or two). Reader is cheated on by someone else in one hc.

I feel like these are slightly darker themes in some just cos the show is a little more like that than btvs. Some are so long I might as well have written out a fic but I like doing lots of different characters at once.

Feel free to request Hcs for any buffyverse characters I enjoy doing these !! 💖

Angel:

- Independent book store - He likes to go and buy from independent stores, he doesn’t trust buying from the internet - You are always extra helpful and you don’t mind that he’s usually quiet apart from thanking you - You often tell him if you’ve read one of the books and you liked it, or you tell him to tell you if its any good - You only ever see him in the dark or by the glow of the dimly lit store - He seems lonely to you, insular - You always enjoy that first Sunday evening of the month, because he pretty much comes in regularly - He really enjoys hearing you talk, you have lots of opinions on literature and the characters and some of them, he had never heard not in the centuries he had been around - You interested him and he liked that you didn’t know anything about demons, it meant he could feel almost human for the first time in a long time - You were his secret, none of his friends knew that he now exclusively shopped there because it meant he could see you, he had started talking just as much as you did - Sometimes, he cleared his whole evening and he would find himself caught in such an interesting conversation with you that time would fly by and you were supposed to have closed the store hours ago - He offers to drive you home, you accept happily and you really get on he might even invite you in and allow you to stay over if it gets too late (he would 100% take the couch no arguments srry) - So someone either barges in that morning or they insist they need to go to the bookstore with him next time he goes - I’m guessing Wes or Cordy - Both would sense the familiarity between you straight away and squint at him, checking if he’s gone evil because his face is actually contorted into a… pleasant smile - Either way they’ll start running their mouth about demons and angel will panic and pull them away leaving you confused - He’ll have to hurry away to take care of some demon, neither of you can stop thinking of the other for the full week - He’ll come in, sheepish, having to explain himself. Demons, all that. Probably feel guilty if he didn’t tell you he was a vampire too (cue an explanation of the curse) - You’ll surprise him, shrug, and ask if he wants to get a drink after your shift - First date of many, you might even join angel investigations after a while (not just bc you’re now in a very committed relationship with the boss)

Spike:

- You work in an electronics store. - His PlayStation stopped working (he threw it out of the window when he lost) so he’s demanding you fix it - You tell him it’s a write off. But you show him some good deals on a new one. - He smiles, thinking you were flirting, but it’s something you are supposed to do for your job - He pays with a debit card, that says it belongs to ‘Angel investigations’ - You presume he’s the named Angel, and say ‘Thanks Angel’ as he leaves - He turns back, starting to scowl, but then realises what’s happened. He keeps up the pretence so that Angel doesn’t figure out he’s taken the company card - He’s pretty lonely, so when he’s not swearing at his PlayStation, he’s thinking about the brief interaction with you at the store - He comes in a few more times, asking about accessories or extras he may need to make him win better - He sticks around for slow evenings sometimes. You start to chat to him, getting to know him, always giving him the warmest smile - Your hands probably brush against each other when you’re showing him something and he cannot stop smiling – it’s been the best thing that’s happened since he became corporeal again. Human touch. Your touch - Finally asks you out, you decide you’d love to spend time with him - There’s only one problem - You think his name’s Angel. So, he spends most of the evening telling you wild and very obviously made up stories about being an investigator and then becoming a CEO. - You go into a bar together and who should interrupt but the real Angel and he keeps calling your Angel by the name Spike. - You frown, having had enough and he’s caught up in some demon killing so he can’t come after you - He is too embarrassed for a while to talk to you again, but eventually waits for you after work - He explains everything, you roll your eyes and smile. The times you actually liked him had been when he was himself at the store. He would come in making you laugh and insulting customers under his breath to make you smile - You agree to have a do-over, introducing yourself again and smiling softly as he holds your hand under the counter before he continues to mutter his insults towards the customers.

Cordelia:

- You work for a temp agency, Angel investigations takes you on in their busy period (LA demons don’t listen to the curse of Halloween so it can get busy) - Real busy - So you are drafted in temporarily to help pick up calls - You have experience and you know all about demons (you used to live on a Hellmouth) - Cordy doesn’t get on with you at first, thinking you’re too perfect taking over her job - She wants her wage and its stretched thinner with a new employee - You reorganise the filing, make detailed notes and are really good on calls to potential clients - And you’re really friendly with her and she finds herself enjoying your company but she still gets suspicious of how good you are at her job - aka she gets a little jealous and it boils over one evening and she starts to ask Angel how long it’ll be until you leave - You overhear, ofc, and Angel’s eyes widen making Cordy turn and see your hurt face - And she feels really guilty when she sees she’s upset you - You just walk past her, pass Angel the files you had finished, and took your jacket to leave - Angel and Wes talk to Cordy, hinting that a lot of her attention has been on you recently – maybe she should think about why that is - You call in sick the next few days, thinking about checking if you can change your contract and be transferred somewhere else. She can’t stop thinking about you - When you’re finally back in, you start the day off in silence, trying to keep up your usual cheery phone voice - Cordelia comes straight in and apologises, handing you a hot drink exactly the way you like it - She hangs the call up that you were on, clicking the button in, losing you a client but this is more important - She tells you that she really likes you and she didn’t realise until she hurt you how much you meant to her in such a short time - She wants to know if she can make it up to you with maybe a dinner date? Say, tonight at that new place - Angel knows someone and helped her get reservations and you agree that it’s the least she could do which makes her smile

Wesley: 

(sorry this isn’t in the best moment of his character arc)

- Hardware store - You get suspicious when he’s buying a list of things that makes you think he might be doing something he shouldn’t - You honestly don’t get paid enough for this, but you had to confront him in the car park for your own moral conscience - He has purchased a bucket, some rope, heavy-duty chains and a large mallet - So you shout, ‘Hey! Are you planning on killing someone?’ (you’re not great with tact) - He whips around so fast and stalks towards you it honestly scares you - He has a certain level of menace, like the English villains in cartoons - “That, would be none of your business” he mutters, realising he would have to go back in and buy more if he wanted to keep you in his closet too - “You know, if it’s something supernatural you might need more than a mallet” you offer, you can tell when someone’s seen something supernatural. Something behind their eyes - He just shakes his head and leaves, but all the while he’s apart from you he can’t stop thinking about you - He glares at the woman he has held hostage, wishing she would just give up her information do he could find Angel - He finds himself walking back to the hardware store - Some dithering excuse about the strength of the chains or wanting you to show him some alternative rope - Gets into a conversation with you about either how you know about demons or why you thought he was gonna kill people - You tell him very obviously he is at least holding a hostage, it makes him crumble slightly - He’s been through a lot, what with the almost dying. Twice - He tells you to follow him and you shrug, chucking your apron at your friend on shift, asking him to cover you - You spoke in the shadows, not able to see each others faces. He told you everything, like everything since he had moved to the U.S, Sunnydale, everything. - He could tell there was something about you, I mean asking him if he was gonna kill someone? You were intelligent, perceptive and to him: better than the job you were in - You then told him of your own darkest moments - Bonded through this, you parted ways, but your minds never left that spot. Never left each other - You met up regularly after this, you hinting that he should probably let the woman go now. Maybe there could be another way to find his boss - Then one day she was gone, his mood lifted and he pulled you into him and landed a kiss - You start dating, helping him sort through everything and you probably eventually join Angel Investigations, Wesley thinks you’re better suited with him anyway

Gunn:

- You serve coffee at a local diner 24 hour diner.

- He comes in every Friday, but he’ll start coming in more regularly when he spots you behind the counter

- After his shifts, before his shifts for a morning coffee even if he’s late into the office

- Finds himself spending more money than is feasible on eating out just because you’re there

-  Decides he had better ask you out. So he does.

- Very cool, very collected

- you can’t help smiling at the way he’s leaning ever-so-cool across the counter

- You’re so pleased he likes you, he had definitely caught your eye, and you jump at the chance to go on a date with him

- There’s only one problem: he finds out you’re half demon and you have a big hatred for a certain mystical law firm that had ruined your family

- He’s cool with the half-demon thing, but it does mean he’s lying about where he works now

- He likes you too much to ruin it over anything like a job

- But one day, after dating a few months, you find out. You were summoned to a meeting at the top floor of the building, the only one that could translate as you passed for human

- There was some misunderstanding over the sacrificial killings being presumed murder by the CEO and his team

- You walked in to find your boyfriend shuffling his papers waiting for this translator he didn’t want to have to deal with

- This results in an argument in front of the whole team and your extended family who don’t really get what’s going on

- You storm away and Angel lets your family off due to the bad publicity he’s informed will take place if they do anything else

- Gunn lets you cool off but eventually can’t stay away and comes into your work and you try to ignore him

- he follows you into the back, apologising over your boss who is shouting at him for coming into the employee-only area

- he takes your shoulders, looks into your eyes and promises he’s working there for the right reasons, telling you that he’s on the right side of this but if you asked he could see about looking for different employment

- he wouldn’t stop saving the world, but he could transfer to some kind of ‘consultancy’ status

- you smile, appreciating the gesture but insist that he shouldn’t lose his job for you. You accept his apology and start to make things work - promising to be honest from then on

- he kisses you, cupping your cheek and moving your head towards him, the verbal promise sealed with the kiss you shared

Fred:

-  you’re a barista in a coffee shop

- she’s always in early mornings and late nights, sometimes you open a little later knowing she’ll want her coffee with extra cream and sugar

- she always bashfully thanks you, insisting you shouldn’t have waited, so you have to admit seeing her is often the highlight of your day

- she’ll blush and shake her head, sipping slowly on her drink. She’ll grin and say it’s exactly how she likes it (you had it waiting for her, she didn’t have to order)

-  you get to know her over the months she’ll pop in, becoming a really close friend of hers.

- which soon leads into more, both of you being very affectionate. It comes so naturally         

- problem is that the tension in her office could be cut with a knife. Almost everyone had a crush on her, whether she was aware of it or not

- you became very insecure, distancing yourself from her after you noticed

- thinking maybe she would be better off with one of the others. she was so upset, her brow furrowing and her work not being her best

- she felt alone again, like she had when she was trapped on Pylea. she just wanted to speak to you about it but she couldn’t. she didn’t get why you were being so cold

- One day you notice one of the men in the lab harassing her at work when you pop in (your coffee store does deliveries now) and you cuss him out

- she smiles, grateful. Her nose scrunching as she smiled. You nod awkwardly, handing her drink and leaving which makes her deflate a little (she wanted you to stay)

- finally, she comes in on her day off - which is odd cos it’s so far from her apartment. she tells you she wants to spend time with you and she wants to know why you suddenly stopped seeing her

- you explain everything, on your break. She shakes her head and smiles fondly at your explanation. 

- she promises the only one she has eyes for is you. You grin and she insists you should have spoken to her about it sooner

- you mysteriously come down with an ‘illness’ after your break and ask to take the rest of the day off and spend it in bed with Fred

Lorne:

- you work in an exclusive theatre, work in the ticket office for premiers

- You see Lorne a lot and always give him a winning smile

- He knows you by name straight away, he’s a people person

- But it was so more than that, he was absolutely entranced by you but you couldn’t tell - he was always around celebrity types what with his job so you felt like he wouldn’t want to look at you twice

- he always stopped to talk to you, savouring the moment you had together

- he was thinking of asking you to dinner, or to accompany him to a premier one time instead of you mostly staying in the ticket office

- however one time, before he had chance to ask, he brought a friend with him. Wesley

- he talked to you, Lorne visibly tense at the way he took a shine to you

- you start to date Wesley on and off after that evening,  

- Lorne gets annoyed at the way he treats you, dropping you any time that Fred so much as gave him a second glance

- you felt lonely and sad, the only person able to cheer you up being Lorne

- he kept you company a lot, growing so close to the point you trusted him more than anyone. You were so comfortable with him, in the way 

- he desperately wants to hold you in his arms, take care of you the way that you deserve

- one evening you say that you had better leave, Wes was supposed to be taking you out

- you walk to his office and find Wes kissing Fred. You scream, shout and then storm away

- Lorne hears the commotion, following you out and scooping you up and holding you into him 

- the warmest embrace one you didn’t ever want to move from

- he stayed with you for months, building you back up for entirely selfless reasons. 

- one day, way after everything that happened with Wes, he looks at you and his feelings let slip

 - you smile, shocked. You hadn’t realised he felt that way - you had thought you would never have a chance with someone like him. You tell him this and and pulls you close

- you kiss, the passion that has been building since the day you met finally pouring between you. You both smile at each other and you pull him in again for another kiss

Doyle:

- You work the register in a liquor store

-  He came in fairly often, the hard stuff the only thing that would help with the visions

- you like his humour, and his accent, and he always has a smile for you even if he’s had a crap day

- he really likes you but he doesn’t know how to tell you

- won’t shut up about you to Angel. So much so that even Angel was gonna march him over to your store and demand he ask you to put him out of his misery

- but luckily, you took a shine to him so you were the one doing the asking. Or, more hinting that you would be getting off your shift soon and that you could share one of his fine bottles of cheap liquor if he wanted company

- almost choked on his words in his enthusiasm, so he just nods and waits for you to grab your stuff

- you spend a lot of time just talking, sharing intimate details and connecting

- his irish lilt was music to your ears and he smiled in that boyish way he does when you tell him this

- You finish a bottle and since that night, he’s addicted. He wants to spend all of his time with you

- He keeps the visions secret at first, but eventually one night he has a bad one – needs to see Angel and you tell him he needs to rest

- You worry, but he’s insistent

- So you come with him and find out about the demons that you had never quite managed to notice before

-  He shares, explains about everything while he’s holding you in his arms. Only thing is he manages to avoid the fact that he’s half demon himself.

- You become closer, noticing Angel and Cordelia (you were friends with them both now kind of) seemed to be hinting he needed to tell you something

- You only caught whispers, the end of conversations but you decided to ask him

- He avoided the question, he didn’t feel good enough. He didn’t want to lose you, you were too important to him – he thought you finding out he was demon would make you run a mile

- And then, one evening he had left to help at Angel Investigations when there was a knock at the door. It was a spiky green demon, apparently a distant relative of your guy

- You invited the demon in, making sure to be the perfect host(/ess)

-  Doyle eventually came in, eyes wide and panicked when he saw the relative. You continued to pour the tea, offering him a cup which he declined and went straight for the hard stuff

- The relative stayed the night, at your insistence, and when you and Doyle went into his room to sleep you asked him to show you that part of him

- He reluctantly did, incredibly embarrassed. But you just kissed him softly and slipped into bed, patting the other side for him to join you

- He grinned, thanking his lucky stars and your relationship only grew from there

Harmony:

- You serve at a Demon bar.

- You make drinks and various cocktails of slime and blood

- Starts as a fling, she doesn’t expect it to be anything more

- Sometimes she’ll talk down to you or start nibbling on your neck. You get on at her to stop, she knew you were human to begin with

- She tries to use sex to distract you, but you want the romance too

- She isn’t used to people wanting a romantic relationship, so she expects you just want sex like her past relationships

- When she realises how soft you can be and how much she enjoys it, things change

- Harmony slowly starts moving her stuff in, suggesting brunch and calling you cheesy pet names that you find adorable.

- You find yourself excited about this, she appears well-meaning and she’s very sweet with you. A little bit fang-happy sometimes but you can let that slide

- You treat her with kindness that she isn’t accustomed to in relationships, she decides because of this its true love. Like in a romance novel.

- Absolutely not used to such kindness.

- You’re happy with her excitement, not because she was treated so bad, but because she feels for you like you feel for her.

- When she double-crosses the people she was supposed to be loyal to, you have a big argument

- You love her, but she relies on the ‘I’m a vampire’ excuse and won’t take responsibility

- There’s a rough patch and both of you are so upset without the other

- But she comes back to the home you shared one evening, calling you the sweetest pet-names and apologising in her own way

-  You accept, continuing to date and explore a healthy relationship, trying to help her with her own self-worth too

Lindsey:

-  Gas station

- You have served him both on his way in and out of town, the many times he has left and come back

- You don’t usually remember customers, but you do remember customers that have the seeming ability to grow back hands

- You were always kind to him, maybe a little extra friendly but he never usually stayed to chat

- He had been in a bad mood the last time you saw him, but he had nodded at you before he left

- He was coming back into town again this time, stopping for gas and you hadn’t thought you would see him again

- It had been such a long time, you figured he had finally moved away for good. You liked making up stories about the customers that stopped by, it made time go a little faster on slow nights

- Tonight you were on your break when he rolled up in his truck, looking pleased with himself

-  You were outside, catching some fresh air and he struck up conversation. He had a glint in his eye, some purpose he was coming back for

- He smiled, actually started sweet-talking you. It appeared that he had you in his memory too

- He asked if you wanted to see each other, now he was moving back to LA

- You have nothing to lose so you say yes agreeing to drinks to see where things went

- Things start out good, for a while. Until he asks you to quit your job and get a job and infiltrate a formerly evil law firm

- You have no experience, no anything but he manages to swing it for you. He just wants you to watch them, for now

- You realise you feel like you’re being used, there’s more to the plan than you realise

- You come home one night, a black eye after Angel ‘asks’ you if you know anything about the amulet – some girl that’s supposed to be dead said you weren’t the real liaison with the senior partners

- Lindsey apologises, gets mad at them for being cruel to you. Tells you everything, his plans, his reasoning. Says he wants to hurt them more now they’ve done this to you.

- He cant stop apologising while he holds you close to him in bed

- He loves you, he tells you and you choose to trust him. feeling it so intimately

-  He looks out for you and he’s protective of you if you come with him to Wolfram and Hart ever

- Instead of getting caught up on the fight he catches your eye and decides, for the last time, to leave LA this time – he wants to take you with him

Lilah:

- Hotel check in. you’re a receptionist who basically runs the place

- Lilah’s having sex with someone senior for information that will get her a promotion

- You’re always nice to her, she’s always short with you

- One day you snap, asking why she’s such a bitch. You weren’t usually like this, but you had a bad day and it suddenly came out

- She smiled, arching an eyebrow and just turned to leave satisfied that nobody is as nice as you had been pretending to be

- She had been pushing your buttons on purpose, seeing how long it would be until you snapped

- It had surprised her and been a couple of months of her being rude to you

- she smiled, saying her door would be open if you wanted to do something about it

- It of course, started off with an angry passion, sex just because you could. for convenience and just to get frustrations out (from both of your jobs)

- It was easy for both of you, but suddenly after a while of your arrangement you let something slip in the throws of passion

- The ‘L’ word

- Boy was she mad at you for saying it. Shoving you almost off the bed, snatching up her clothes and calling you pathetic before she stormed away

- she refused to answer you calls after this, for a while. You didn’t realise she was scared of her won feelings that surfaced when you said what you did

- You came to her work, she threatened to call security but you mentioned a few confidential cases she had left around the hotel room that you managed to cast a glance over

- she agreed to let you into her office so you could talk

- and surprisingly, you did. She tried her best to keep you at arms length but the promise of someone to actually care about her with no ulterior motives was too much

- she agreed to meet you that night, the first tentative feeling of a relationship coursing through you, hopefully you could convince her to take a chance on you

[numba99]

The Intern - Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

summary: You are an intern at MSG, strictly forbidden to become involved with any of the Rangers. However, this becomes difficult when you catch the eye of a certain player. Word count: 2.3k

warning: nothing really just like alcohol mentions I guess and no proof reading teehee

“Good morning,” A voice chirped, pulling you from your sleep. You let out a loan groan as Jess jumped on to your bed.

“I’m trying to sleep,” you grumbled, trying to pulled the blankets over your head. 

“You’ve slept long enough I need to know what happened last night,” Jess said, nudging your shoulder.

“I definitely have not slept long enough,” you replied.

“I got bagels,” Jess singsonged.

That got your attention. “Alright, I’m coming,” you sighed, kicking the covers off. Jess jumped up in excitement and you followed her out to the kitchen. Just as she promised, there was a bag of fresh bagels waiting for you.

“Bribery is a new low for you,” you said, digging through to find an everything one.

“But it worked,” Jess noted, “So some on, spill.”

“Well I am happy to report that Chris is in fact single,” You told her as you spread a layer of cream cheese over you bagel. 

“As delighted as I am by this news you know that’s not what I wanna hear about,” Jess replied, pointing the butter knife at you.

“There really isn’t much to tell,” you shrugged.

Jess rolled her eyes, “Every time you say there isn’t much to tell, a shit ton of things happened.”

You sighed and gave her the run down, even though you thought it was uneventful. At least it would satisfy her. “And then we shared an Uber home. See not much to tell,” you finished.

“You’re so naive its precious,” Jess replied, “He obviously likes you.”

“It doesn’t matter how he feels, it just can’t happen,” you replied, “And I appreciate him respecting that.”

“Okay fine I will give him that, it’s cool of him to not push it,” Jess nodded, “All the more reason you should bang him though. Sounds like a greta guy.” 

“You’re hopeless,” You laughed, shaking your head, “But he is a great guy, I really li-” You tried to stop yourself before you gave her ammo but it was too late.

“Oohhh you like him,” Jess grinned.

“Oh please,” you tossed a napkin at her, “You know what I meant.”

“Sure... sure,” Jess laughed.

____

The next few weeks you were riding a high. Being at MSG was significantly less stressful when you didn’t feel like you had to dodge one of the players. You were getting along great with guys and Lias never tried anything with you. You really appreciated him respecting your boundaries, and you were starting to develop a great friendship.

On top of that your workload was increasing, but in a good way. You got to be more hands on, and even write up a few posts on your own. It was really great to feel like Beth trusted you and thought you were doing well.

“Hey great game today Lias,” you said as he was packing up his things. The rangers had a come from behind win today, with Lias scoring the goal that put them over the edge.

“Thanks,” he smiled, “Definitely needed that. By the way, did Mika mention his Halloween party to you?”

“Um no I don’t think so.” You got told a lot of things from a lot of different people while you were here, but you were sure you would remember Mika mentioning his Halloween party.

“Guess I’m beating him to the punch, but he wanted to invite you. It’s this weekend at his place and you’re welcome to bring a friend. Costumes are a must though,” Lias told you.

“That sounds great I’d love to,” you replied, however it dawned on you this could be crossing a line and you wanted to check with Beth first. “I gotta make sure I have nothing else though, can I text you later to let you know for sure?” You didn’t wanna admit you had to ask your boss for permission.

“Yeah of course.” Lias took your phone and entered in his number. You chuckled to yourself as you were walking away realizing he made his contact name “Lias my favorite ranger Andersson.” It was sort of juvenile, but somehow from him it was charming. 

“Hey Beth can I ask you something?” you asked as you stepped into her office.

“Sure, what is it?” she asked, looking up from the papers on her desk.

“So I was sorta invited to a Halloween party at Mika’s but I didn’t know if I was allowed to go?” you explained shyly. It felt so stupid coming out of your mouth.

Beth laughed, “I'm not your mother, y/n, you don't have to ask me permission to go out.”

“I know, but I just didn’t want to cross a line or anything. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to get around the rules,” you told her.

“The rules are against romantic relationships. Believe me, I wasn’t an intern that long ago, I know it’s fun to get asked to do stuff with players. You work hard and should be able to enjoy the perks. If it’s a big group thing, I don’t see the problem with it,” Beth replied.

“Thank you, that makes me feel a lot better,” you said.

“Of course,” Beth said, “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, I trust you and I know you wouldn’t do anything to break that. Besides, the more the players like you, the better answers I get when you’re around. It’s a win win for me.”

“Glad I can help,” you laughed. With that, Beth told you you were free to go for the night.

You practically ran home, eager to tell Jess about it. “You’re kidding?” she squealed.

“Nope! You’re finally gonna meet Chris,” you told her.

“Oh thank god past Jess had the foresight to take off Halloween. This was all meant to be,” Jess gushed.

You smiled, sharing in excitement as you pulled out your phone to let Lias know you would be able to go. Within minutes he replied:

Can’t wait to see you

___

The day of the party you had butterflies in your stomach and you didn’t really know why... Well you knew why but you were going to ignore that. Instead, you put your energy into getting ready. You and Jess chose to be a devil and angel, you being the devil and her the angel. The costumes were basic, red dress for you and white for her with horns and a halo. It was the best it was going to get with such last minute plans. You did feel really hot in it, though, and really that’s all that matters.

“Oh wow we are both getting some tonight,” Jess said as you checked yourselves over one last time before heading out.

“No you are, I will be cheering you on from the corner,” you reminded her.

She grinned, “We’ll see about that.” She should be the one dressed as a devil.

The Uber to Mika’s place wasn’t too long and boy were your floored by his apartment. Of course you knew it would be nice, but wow, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what the rent on the thing was. It didn’t feel too crowded despite the amount of people present; a miracle for a New York City apartment party.

“Hey! Y/n, glad you could make it,” Mika greeted you with a hug. He was dressed as a soccer player.

“Okay now I don’t feel so bad about how basic my costume is,” you teased.

“You invite someone into your own home and this is how they treat you...” he feigned insult.

You laughed, then introduced Jess, who you could tell was already scanning the room for “her man.” You all chatted together for a little, but Mika eventually had to move on to greet other guests. He pointed you guys towards the bar, where you spotted Lias hanging out.

“Holy shit hes even cuter then the pictures,” Jess whispered in your ear as you approached. You hushed her with an elbow nudge to the ribs.

“Hey y/n, you look amazing,” Lias smiled, pulling you in for a hug. God his body felt so muscular, you thought. Definitely could have done without that realization. “The irony of you dressed as devil around a bunch of rangers players isn’t lost on me.”

“I hadn’t even thought of that,” you laughed, “And what are you supposed to be?” He was dressed in an all black outfit that fit his body very well. 

Lias leaned his head to the side, revealing “bite marks” drawn on. “A vampire.” 

“Ah so that’s why you've got red on the side of your mouth, I thought your drink just dribbled out of the side of your mouth,” You teased, to which Lias playfully rolled his eyes.

“Ahem,” Jess interjected. 

“Right,” you blushed, almost forgetting she had been there, “Lias this is my friend and roommate Jess. Jess, this is my work friend Lias.” You put a slight emphasis on the word friend, though you weren’t sure if that was more for her or you.

“Great to finally meet you, Lias. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Jess smiled.

“Really?” Lias smirked at you. You gave her a death stare; she was very pleased with herself.

“Yeah I guess I talk about work a little too much, she’s probably sick of it by now,” you tried to cover.

“What's going on here?” A voice asked. You turned around to find Chris entering the kitchen with a big smile on his face. You’ve never been happier to see him, knowing it would be the perfect Jess distraction. She played right into it, introducing herself as your friend. 

“Great to meet you,” Chris smiled.

“I’ve heard this place has a nice view, care to show me?” Jess asked. You marveled at her boldness.

“I would love to,” Chris replied, and he sounded like he really meant it. Jess wrapped her around him and followed him out with a knowing smile in your direction. 

“Wow,” Lias said, watching them leave.

“Yup,” you half laughed. That’s Jess for you.

“Well I hope everything you told her about is good, because if not I’m sure I’ll hear it,” Lias teased. Of course he hadn’t forgotten.

“Hmm I don’t know. May be safer to stay away from her or you’ll know how I really feel about you,” you shot back.

“And how’s that?” he asked, with a slight edge to his voice. It somehow didn’t seem like fun banter any more.

Before you could answer, someone bumped into you from behind, sending your drink sloshing out of the cup and on to Lias’ shirt. They muttered a drunk and giggly sorry before pushing past you.

“Shit I’m so sorry Lias,” You gasped. You tried to catch a glimpse of who ever did it, but you didn’t recognize them. 

“It’s all good, it’s not your fault,” Lias replied very calmly for someone who had held a drink on their shirt.

“Let me help you get cleaned up at least,” you said. Lias nodded, and you followed him down a hallway to the back of the apartment. You slid into a bedroom, shutting the door behind you. It was quieter here, though you could still hear the soft thudding of the music through the walls.

“Mika doesn’t mind you borrowing his clothes?” You asked as you watched Lias fling open the closet.

“This is my room actually,” Lias replied, digging through his clothes, “I actually stay here with him.

“Oh,” you replied, suddenly feeling nervous. It shouldn’t make a difference, but knowing it was his bedroom and not Mika’s just felt different. It felt wrong. Lias didn’t seem to notice, he was pulling off his shirt without a care in the world. Sure, you’ve seen him shirtless countless times - the players got changed in front of the media all the time - but it just being you and him felt almost intimate.

When Lias caught your eye he froze, and the energy in the room shifted. You just knew that he was feeling what you were. “I can leave so you can change,” you said quickly.

“You don’t have to,” Lias replied, stepping towards you.

“I- uh- I don't know it probably should,” you stammered, reaching for the knob. Lias’ hand grabbed yours, your eyes locking.

“I don’t want you to,” his voice was just above a whisper. You barely heard if over your heart pounding in your ears. The next thing you knew his hands were cupping your face, pulling you in for a kiss. You melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him close to you.

It was like everything else disappeared. All you could think about was how good Lias’ lips felt against yours, how strong the muscles of his back felt against your fingertips. His hand slid down your body, playing at the hem of your dress and suddenly a voice entered your head.

“I trust you and I know you wouldn’t do anything to break that.”

Suddenly you were snapped back to reality. You jumped away from Lias with a gasp. Shit, you thought, I’ve fucked up big time.

“Are you okay? Did I h-”

“I have to go,” you spat out, turning away and practically tripping over yourself to get out the door.

“Shit, wait y/n,” Lias called after you, but you ignored it. You weaved through the partygoers, scanning the room for Jess. You spotted her in the corner, making out with Chris. For a fleeting moment you forgot what just happened and was just happy for her. Unfortunately, it didn’t last and you needed to get out ASAP.

“I’m so sorry Jess, we gotta go,” you broke them up. She shot you an annoyed look, but Jess knew you Long enough to know when something was up. She nodded, realizing you needed her and told Chris she’d call him later. 

And with that, you got yourself out, but not without creating a giant mess.

[jxpper]

The Peraltiago Polaroid Project

I started this project [both photos and headcanon list] a while back, a few days before ‘Casecation’ came out. I wanted to do a project with my idea of what Jake and Amy’s family growing process would be. I’m happy to say that it’s finished and i’m sharing it!!

The reason behind this post is that I’ve got this idea in my head that Jake bought Amy a polaroid camera to use for scrapbooking and he gave it to her at their wedding and she constantly used it. 

Because this post is a dash-clogger, I’m gonna put a break in the post. Clicking ‘read more’, you’ll get to see each individual photo as well as the headcanons to go with them!!

I hope you like it :)

Warning: You may get a cavity from the amount of tooth rotting fluff below. 

So! I’ll start off with the headcanons so the entirety of the photos don’t spoil it. 

A few months after their 1 year anniversary, Jake and Amy decided to officially try to have a baby. They both came to the decision that they were ready to start their family.

To Amy’s surprise, she found out she was pregnant around the end of October. Which worked out almost perfectly because that meant she could finally be the one to surprise Jake at the halloween heist.

It was difficult to hide for the week she knew as she had terrible morning sickness and Jake was an amazing detective who would probably realize it soon. Still, she managed to hide it pretty well.

Right as Jake thought he’d won the heist, she replaced the heist object with the positive pregnancy test.

Jake passed out when he read it, obviously.

The squad found out that night when Amy was crowned Heist Queen because she did actually have the heist object in her possession. Even though it was really early, they announced it at Shaw’s Bar during her coronation.

Once the news set in that she was actually pregnant, Amy was mega terrified and had anxiety about being a mother. Jake on the other hand, was so excited that he couldn’t wait. Which was surprising since for a while he wasn’t too convinced he wanted kids at first.

Eventually, he convinced her that they would do just fine. He reminded her that there was a bomb at their wedding and everything worked out even if it didn’t work the way she planned it. That gave her a lot of mental relief.

At the first ultrasound, Jake and Amy found out that they were having identical twins. Jake passed out, again. This time, they wanted to keep the twins part a surprise to the squad.

At the gender reveal party, that’s when Jake and Amy decided to tell the squad that it was twins. They went with a simple reveal, opening a box that had the balloons coordinated to the color of the gender… except, they rolled out two boxes instead.

This time, Charles passed out instead.

Both boxes revealed pink balloons. They were having twin girls. Several squad members lost the bet of the gender being boy since Amy has 7 brothers.

Terry and Jake started a club, much like the DDC, but for fathers of twins. Poor Charles, he was so jealous.

As much as Amy was excited, she hated being pregnant. She was sick all the time, constantly in pain or agitated. She was actually relieved to find out she was having twins since she wasn’t sure she wanted to go through pregnancy again. At least she’d get two beautiful babies from the pain.

Because they weren’t sure if they wanted to have more biological children, Amy and Jake became certified to be foster parents just in case they ever wanted to foster to adopt.

The squad pretty much had to cuff Amy to her desk since she was not happy about being on desk duty for her pregnancy. She wanted to be in the field, but it just wasn’t safe.

By month 8, Amy had her birth plan entirely detailed and ready to go. She wanted to do a natural, medicine free birth and she planned for every single minute of her labor.

Of course, it didn’t go right at all. Her water broke early, she had several complications and eventually had to have an emergency c-section. Even though it was a stressful situation, Jake handled it like a champ — thanks to Sharon’s experience.

Two beautiful girls arrived healthy and happy, but more importantly, safely. Maci Jane and Mackenzie Ruth. Jake picked their first names and Amy picked their middle names.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love the names, but why Maci and Mackenzie?” Amy asked. “Because it sounds similar to McClane! Die Hard!” Amy didn’t mind, she was feeling pure bliss.

Amy picked the middle names in homage to Jane Eyre and Ruth Bader Ginsberg… obviously.

Parenting turned out to be a lot harder than they expected, especially with twins. Balancing work and babies, it was stressful. But that was okay because Amy did good under pressure. Jake on the other hand? He drank more caffeine in the first month than he did in his entire career... including when Rosa dosed him caffeine.

After her maternity leave was over, Amy thought she was excited to return. Thought, being the key word. It was hard, she missed her babies. Eventually, Jake and Amy decided to sign them up for the precinct’s day-care program. That way, they could both see the twins whenever they wanted to.

Around the time Maci and Mackenzie turned 4, Jake and Amy decided they wanted to try to have one more baby.

It wasn’t happening as quickly as they’d hoped and they were getting kind of bummed.

Right when Amy and Jake decided not to get their hearts set on having another baby, something amazing happened.

The 99th precinct had become a part of the ‘Safe Surrender’ program, where new mothers could anonymously and safely surrender their newborn child which would then be placed with a foster family if they were in a place where they couldn’t raise a child.

A little newborn baby boy was surrendered to the precinct and Amy was assigned to watch the baby until family services showed up to figure out what to do.

Instantly, Amy bonded with the nameless little guy. She spent the entire day in the soft room with him, rocking him and feeding him. Because he didn’t have a name, she just called him ‘Buddy’

When family services showed up later that evening, Amy could barely let go of the little guy. In the spur of the moment, Amy and Jake offered to foster him… they were already certified.

“Are we gonsta ‘dopt him, daddy?” Mackenzie had been the first to ask the question when they walked in the door with a brand new baby that nobody was expecting. “You know, Sweet Pea. I think we’re gonna keep him around for a while. How does that sound?”

After a few weeks, Amy and Jake decided that ‘buddy’ needed a name. A real, official name. That’s when they chose ‘Charlie Raymond Peralta’, after Charles and Holt, respectively. They still called him Buddy, but now he had an actual name.

Charles passed out, again

Because Amy and Jake had ties with the judges and family services, as well as being with the baby from almost birth, they were able to rush the process of adoption. At 6 months old, Charlie officially became a Peralta.

Amy eventually became a captain [youngest in NYPD history] and Jake ranked up and decided to remain a Lieutenant for a while. He liked his work as a detective, but he wasn’t quite interested in being a captain.

Their children made them extremely proud, not just because of their accomplishments though.

Maci became an Assistant District Attorney, eventually becoming the District Attorney of Brooklyn

Mackenzie enlisted in the police academy and earned her way to the top. She eventually became the youngest Police Commissioner of the NYPD.

Charlie took a bit of a different career path and instead enlisted in the Navy. Even though he wasn’t biologically Amy’s child, he sure acted like it. His persistence and hard work ranked him up to an E-9 Master Chief

and Amy captured every moment of it with the little polaroid camera Jake gave to her on their wedding day.

[spacerangersam]

did a big ol edit of episode 1 of bsotd and i’m a lot happier with it now

SMITH: Is this thing working?

He has a Welsh accent and his voice is rough and quiet.  It is still a nice sounding voice, however. His words are followed by a noncommittal murmur, belonging to a different voice.

IMELDA: I didn't take IT, I don't have a fucking clue

Her voice is smooth and naturally a little louder than the boy's, but not to the point where it’s harsh. She has an accent, Irish, but it’s very faint.

SMITH: I mean, a light is on, so tha’s good, right?

IMELDA: If I say yes, can we move on?

SMITH: Uh, sure

IMELDA: Then yes

SMITH: Alrighty then... well, there's a very big chance this didn' work, but I'm just gonna act like it definitely did. So, uh, hello... world. My name is Smith Waterston, and I, uh, am the temporary host of the Clearwater Boarding School radio show

UNKNOWN GIRL: I'm Imelda Abayan. Student council president. I'm here to make sure he doesn't kill himself

Smith laughs sharply then clears his throat. 

SMITH: Um, so someone messed with the... thingies and... did something? I don' know, I kinda blanked out three minutes in

IMELDA: Don’t get hung up about it, I don’t think he honestly knew what he was saying either

SMITH: No, I-I’m sure he did

IMELDA: Considering he said the word ‘doohicky’ at least three times, I would argue not

SMITH: …Maybe tha’s a technical term?

IMELDA: Smith, don’t make me call you an idiot. I don’t like calling injured people idiots, it seems rude

SMITH: Fine. Anyway, the point is, people outside of Clearwater should now be able to hear us. Outside of the school that is, no idea about outside of town.

IMELDA: I’d assume not

SMITH: Regardless, uh, hello to everyone who’s listening.  So, my job here is to keep you up to date on the schedule, the menu, rules and so on

IMELDA: Dead?

SMITH: Oh, yes. And to keep you updated on the list of dead and injured, obviously

IMELDA: Moment of silence?

SMITH: Huh? Oh! Yes, uh, let us have a moment of silence for the prior host of this station, Annabelle Bloom. Rest in peace, Miss Bloom

There are 30 seconds of silence.

SMITH: Thank you. I heard it was quick at least

IMELDA: Messy though. Jumped off the roof

SMITH: Really? I heard she was pushed

IMELDA: I also heard that a disembodied encouraged her to do it. Who knows?

SMITH: No one, I assume. You know, since she’s dead and all. Can’ really ask her now, can we?

IMELDA: Well, we could. We just wouldn’t get a reply, which would make it all pretty pointless

SMITH: I think they burnt her, so I don’ think there’d be anything to ask anyway. I mean, you could ask her room, but tha’ jus’ seems a little silly

IMELDA: It does a bit

SMITH: Anyway, uh, I don' know how fast news travels out there, so jus' in case: all teachers of Clearwater are currently out of action. 40 out of 50 are dead, 10 are injured, 4 with a chance of full recovery, 6 are already having their funerals planned. With students, 120 of 478 are dead, 65 injured and thirteen missing.

IMELDA: We don’t have time to read out the names right now, but we will during the after-lunch show

SMITH: We’ve only lost thirty in the last month, however, which is honestly a pretty good number

IMELDA: You're making it sound like it's good that they're dead

SMITH: I, uh, meant in the sense that I expected the number to be much higher! Sorry, sorry

IMELDA: Chill, I got ya, man

SMITH: Alright, sorry, sorry. Um... it's been a surprisingly quiet week here at Clearwater. No deaths, only a number of minor injuries, and we even managed to contact our fellow boarding school, Bridgewater! 

Imelda claps slowly.

SMITH: The building is basically in ruins now, so we're making plans to move them an’ their supplies over here in the next week, which is nice. Always good to have allies, even if we did egg their school tha’ one Halloween...

IMELDA: Water under the bridge

SMITH: Well, I hope it is anyway. Or else this may all be an elaborate plan to murder us all, and I think we can all agree tha’ tha’ would be a bit inconvenient

IMELDA: Bit of an understatement, but okay

SMITH: Regardless, good news all around mostly. You know, apart from the mysterious symbols and messages appearing outside of the school…

IMELDA: Don’t think about it. And if you can’t not think about it, drink-

SMITH: Water

IMELDA: Don’t be a pussy, students. Get wasted

SMITH: Imelda, we’ve only been here one day, I swear if you get us reported- actually… never mind, carry on

IMELDA: Nice try, man. Finish the announcements

SMITH: Dammit. Right, so we have an update from the chemistry club, which is lovely. Honestly was beginning to wonder if they were all dead, so it’s good to know tha’ they’re not

IMELDA: You lot really need to get out more

SMITH: I- yeah. You do. Well, not out out, but outside of tha’ room at least. If you went outside you lot would be fucked

Smith lets out a sharp laugh. Then coughs.

SMITH: Um. No offence

IMELDA: I’m sure they didn’t take any. And even if they did, the fuck they gonna do? They’re all skinny nerds

SMITH: Dorian’s part of the chemistry club, and he’s built like a goddamn shithouse

IMELDA: He’s an outlier. I shouldn’t have to account for rogue rugby-playing science nerds

SMITH: You know he’s absolutely not an outlier

IMELDA: Hey, let my schemata alone you bitch, stop trying to make me acknowledge differences

SMITH: Alttight, calm down, I’ll leave your… schisms alone

IMELDA: That’s absolutely not what I said

SMITH: Anyway, the chemistry club finally figured out how to make some Malakoff cocktails. Also managed to get their hands on some RDX! Took some time, but hopefully but tomorrow we'll have some brand-new weapons on hand, how exciting!

IMELDA: And necessary since while there are plenty of corrosive acids on offer here, most are slow acting

SMITH: Not to mention we haven't figured out a more effective way of using them past just... throwing the jars at them... which doesn't always work... it’s happening okay, I promise

IMELDA: Slowly

SMITH: Better than nothing. Helps we found the secret stash of Mr. Fishmonger's alcohol. Who knew he was a massive alcoholic?

IMELDA: Everybody

SMITH: Oh

IMELDA: Also, ‘massive alcoholic’? What does that mean? Would it even be possible to be a small alcoholic?

SMITH: Yes, and it's called 'I only drink on the weekend every weekend and sometimes during Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday Friday to get through the week until the weekend'

IMELDA: …Aight

Loud, blaring sirens go off.

IMELDA: ...Shit.

SMITH: Gotta go

...

SMITH: False alarm. Mary James was jus’ sleeping walking, again.

IMELDA: Well, at least she won't be doing that again anytime soon

SMITH: Ah, yes... well they expect she'll, uh, make a full recovery in a few weeks

IMELDA: If you’re passing by, maybe consider dropping in an’ saying hi. Especially if you’re the one who threw that bicycle at her. I mean, what the fuck man, where did you even get that thing? And how did you have the upper body strength to lob it across the hallway?

SMITH: Well, they do say fear gives you an adrenaline rush

IMELDA: Do they?

SMITH: …I don’ know, I’m not a science guy. Anyway, someone kindly gave up some of their hair dye, so if you see what you think looks like an infected with neon pink hair, maybe jus’ wait a second?

IMELDA: Don't immediately throw a fucking bike at her, is what he means...

SMITH: Or anything? Preferably

IMELDA: If you really must throw something, go for something that's not too hard, and please, only throw one thing before scouting out. We're running out of bandages

SMITH: And people

IMELDA: And now we’re all out of bikes

SMITH: And with the nurse still healing from his broken arm...right, jus’... think first, throw second? Maybe?

There's the sound of a door opening. Someone walks in, then walks back out. Smith and Imelda begin to talk quietly between themselves.

SMITH: Are they fuckin' serious?

IMELDA: No one's drawn dicks on it, so I assume so

SMITH: Bit late, ain' it?

IMELDA: Might explain on the back

SMITH: ...Ah... right

IMELDA: How bad is it?

SMITH: Check for yourself

There's the sound of papers rustling.

IMELDA: Damn

SMITH: Yeah

Smith coughs.

SMITH: Righ', righ', sorry to cut this ... show? Is it a show?

IMELDA: No idea

SMITH: Fair enough. Anyway, as I was saying, sorry for cutting... this short today, they've changed up the schedule a bit

IMELDA: We’ll be back after lunch though. Or, we should be, at least

 SMITH: Um, to play us out is Mary James' song, Fuck Apples

IMELDA: I know many of you are startin' to get physically sick when you hear this song with how often it's been played, but hey, the poor girl's in hospital, I think she deserves this.

SMITH: And she did say she will be collaborating with the orchestra when she's recovered to finally bring youse some different songs. Anyway, my name is Smith, and goodbye for the evening

IMELDA: It's still morning

SMITH: Whatever. You gonna to say goodbye?

IMELDA: Yeah. Goodbye

SMITH: Exnihilo nihil fit

IMELDA: ...Habang may buhay, may pag-asa. Goodbye 

[mariamermaid]

Like Lovers Do

Summary: He might have been a god, but you were a titan rising from hell and still, you fell so dearly for him, it was destined to fail, wasn´t it?

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: drinking, implied smut, kinda dark

A/N: I highly recommend listening to the song “Like Lovers do” by Hey Violet while reading. I didn´t have yet time to check for spelling mistakes so it might slightly change within the next days!

Halloween Imagines Masterlist

She stepped through the echoing hall like it already belonged to her. She was born for this, this simple but so crucial moment. In a matter of seconds that elapsed like waves crashing against the sore cliffs. Her perfectly curled hair, her sweet smile and the charm in her eyes. The tailored dress made for her body, fitted like second skin. Her natural glow illuminating the room and of course, all eyes were on her.

But then there was you.

The sister. Everything she had like it was her inherent right, you had to fight for. She was the golden star, but you were the storm crawling through the night sky, letting stars fall like hail. She could bring flowers to bloom, but under your feet the earth shook and bowed, afraid of your presence. You were two foreign princesses from a galaxy far away and your recently deceased mother, mentioned her last wish on her death bed. She hoped that one of you would marry a prince to help your realm. Obviously, she didn´t say a name, but with the last breath she took, it was clear who she had meant. You sister, Lakira, immediately took it upon herself to search for suitable contenders and when she heard about the god of thunder, it was impossible to stop her. Your father, who fulfilled each wish she had, agreed to the visit in Asgard. They would soon realize their mistake…

 Not all eyes were on her, on particularly blue-greenish pair, remained on you. You immediately caught his sight and a devilish smirk played on your blood red lips.  

I see you watching me, eyes on your target Mix drinks and smoke rings, it's already started It won't be too long before me and you Are doing what lovers do You were wearing a black, simple dress, your hair open. The simple touch of a red lipstick flattering your dark aura. And he couldn´t take his eyes of you, the sweet smell of danger of pulling him in. He wore a green suit with golden details, Loki, Prince of Asgard, Odinson, the rightful King of Jotunheim, God of Mischief. He could feel the vibrations from your powerful figure and he didn´t mistake them as your sisters. He could sense that there was more lingering under your skin that appeared to be such a sober shroud. And while the kingdoms greeted each other with fine chosen words and compliments, you two started to play a game, either way losing like lover do.

“It is an honor to greet you here, when you have such a long journey behind you, King.” Odin greeted your father and they shook hands. Your father, a good head smaller than the king and his two sons, offered him a noble smile. The god of thunder gawked at Lakira, but besides her beauty, there was nothing about her that attracted him to her. A pretty face to hide a shallow character. You often reminded yourself that it wasn´t her fault, she was born like that. And at certain, scarce moments, when you two were completely alone, you could see behind her smile. And when you two shared the intimate and sacred times of being just simple sisters, you loved her so dearly, it broke your heart. But you could also see that for Thor´s heart another woman already had the key, which made this whole occasion miserable to watch.

The dinner began and while almost everybody lightly chatted with each other, you and Loki constantly locked eyes. Yet, he couldn´t fully figure out where your thoughts wandered when behind your eyes appeared the darkness of a galaxy. But the tension kept going until the desert was served. You both sat across each other, just like Lakira and Thor. The skill of disappearing in invisible shadows so that everybody forgot about your presence, was a simple skill you had perfected over the years. And now the shadows cloaked the God of Mischief as well. The desert, a typical Asgardian mousse  with sweet fruits was neatly placed in front of you, but after your first bites of the sweet taste, you laid your golden spoon back on the table. The mood was lightening and the talks began to get louder. “Excuse, I´m going to the bathroom, I´ll be back in just a second.” You explained bitter sweetly, even though only Loki heard your voice. He watched you leave and his eyes couldn´t resist wandering down your curved body, wondering how your skin felt without the silk hiding it´s beauty. After two more passing minutes, in which neither Thor nor anyone else of the present guests realized your missing, Loki excused himself as well. The more distance got between him and the hall, the quicker his feet hit the ground. He thought to find you in your chambers, but just before turning the corner, he accidently lurked up the stairs which led to the observation platform and he caught sight of a thin layer of smoke hovering in the air. He followed the trace and found you on the observation deck.

Clothes on the floor, we're exploring our bodies Getting you off is my new favorite hobby Lipstick on your neck brands like a tattoo 'Cause that just how lovers do With big steps he encountered you and you grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer. He slightly leaned down to you while your hands embraced his neck and your lips connected with his. The beauty of the passionate kiss was the synchronized rhythm. The way your tongues played with each other, but with harmony and gracefully you embraced each other, just to feel the closeness. Two lovers on a bridge in front of a kingdom with galaxies decorating the background. A picture that was quickly engraved on your mind.

Ooh, love is just another four letter word But that never stopped nobody Ooh, either way we lose Just like lovers, just like lovers do “Wow that was… stunning.” Loki admitted, his arm around your bare shoulders. You chuckled while drawing lines on his skin. Out of your finger escaped dark sparkles which then faded into the air. The sun had set and through the open window blew a soft breeze. “And I thought this unsuccessful journey would be boring.” You admitted, he kept quiet. After a long time passing he spoke up again. “Why unsuccessful?” “Because it was the plan that Lakira would seduce your brother, but his heart already belongs to another woman.” He was surprised. Loki watched you thoughtful, it was very rare that somebody could surprise him. After all it was in his nature to be in control at all given times, but you created chaos in him. A pleasant chaos. “You know about her?” “It´s hard not to see.” “For you. Your sister is still left in the dark.” You hummed in response but then you sat up. The blankets slipped away when you left the bed and started picking up your clothes from the floor again. Loki sat up. “You´re leaving?” He asked confused and again, he wondered why you caused such abnormalities. You laughed while already putting back on your dress. A laugh he couldn´t yet read. You eyed yourself in his mirror on last time, rearranging your hair and checking your makeup, then you turned to him. “Yes.”

His and hers closets are perfect for skeletons Hiding resentment and shared infidelities Cheers to regret, wash it down with some booze Drinking like lovers do

Days passed, and a wonderful reversal changed colors in Asgard. The leaves on the dress started to shifted to a warm red-orange, and the sea verging on the mountains appeared in a glowing turquoise, which created a stunning view. Behind the mountains was the dark grey unknown and thunder hollered in the far. Your sister and father didn´t have any success yet and you didn´t dare to open their eyes. It was rather amusing to watch Lakira flirt with all weapons, when Thor was only focused on training. And your father wasn´t any better. He tried his best to built a strong bond with Odin, who seemed more annoyed by him with each encounter. Sadly, the more aggressive Odin got, the more he let it out on Loki. You could see his struggles to keep up with the image of being the adoptive son. It reminded you of your own fate. Sometimes you could still feel the blame your father laid on your shoulders that you never rose to his standards. 

And when dinner was finished, Loki and you shared your thoughts and drowned them with booze. The burning taste of liquor running down your throat let you forget your conscience and filled your mind with the lingering picture of Loki´s lips that you craved. And when the bottle was emptied the tickling touch against his skin fulfilled you.

Ooh, love is just another four letter word But that never stopped nobody Ooh, either way we lose Just like lovers, just like lovers do Weeks passed and even Lakira had now accepted that Thor would never be hers. Only your father remained pounding on the imagination that Thor, his new son-in-law, would come and safe his realm. Lakira had also noticed your thing with Loki, but for now she had been quiet about it. You guessed she would eventually come and question you about it, so you purposely avoided her and spent even more at Loki´s chambers.

Loki, God of Mischief, in whom you had found sympathy and you opened up to his calming character. Just now you sat at the end of his bed on the floor, a book laying on your knees, reading. Loki who sat across you, leaned against the brown arm-chair, glanced up from time to time. When you caught him, he smiled sheepishly and you grinned jubilant. You had been there for two hours reading and the relaxed morning was accompanied by the smell of tea. It was perfect.

The sudden knock of a servant surprised you both and quickly you hid inside an adjoining room, but your ears were sharpened. “The King and the princesses will leave Asgard, a sudden sickness had afflicted their country.” He made a break, thinking if he should share his thoughts with the Prince. “I don´t think they´ll ever come back. Their country has been so destroyed, especially without their King there and with this deadly sickness, it will be only a question of time.” Loki´s jaw dropped, the situation took an unexpected turn. He could only stutter his answer, unable to form clear thoughts. “Yes… Yes, I will be coming to farewell the king… In just minute.”

When he closed the door shut and turned to look for you, you had disappeared and he cursed over your abilities to vanish. Of course, you had heard the news and the shattering truth had hit you hard. Especially because you had no idea. Angrily you stormed inside your sister´s chambers without knocking. “What sickness?!” You yelled and she flinched surprise. “Y/N what are talking about?”

Your angry façade dropped and was knocked out of the skies. She didn´t know it neither.

That's how it goes so take it like a grown-up Life's not a fairytale, it's time to own up Hire a hitman to take care of you And end it like lovers do You didn´t want to see him, you couldn´t see him. Deep inside you knew you wouldn´t be able to handle it, so you quickly disappeared in the space ship with the typical colors of your home. You told your servant you weren´t feeling well and they politely offered you to lay down. Hot tears ran down your cheeks and your mouth was shaking, trying to keep in the sobs. When the feeling of the ship lifting off the ground echoed in your cabin, you felt a slight ease. But then you remembered what was waiting for you at your home and dark images of death formed in your head.

You landed and realized that at some point, you had drifted off to sleep, but you still felt exhausted and tired. The castle seemed colder and lonelier. You realized servants missing, but didn´t question it. You drifted off into a constant condition of numbness. For days you barely ate, the food didn´t taste at all, the water in the shower was freezing cold, then burning hot, it didn´t matter. The only memory keeping you breathing was you and Loki sitting on his bed reading, or taking a walk at sunset. Watching the early fog slowly fading when sunrays appeared. The bond you shared, you almost called it love.

Ooh, love is just another four letter word But that never stopped nobody Ooh, either way we lose Just like lovers, just like lovers do The loud sound of spaceships landing woke you up. With you dark, silky robes on you tiptoed down to the lifeless hall of your castle. Your father still sat on the throne, it didn´t look like he had left it in the past days. His deep rings under his eyes, the unhealthy color of his skin, his dry lips and his thin body. He didn´t look good at all. You spotted your sister as well barefoot coming from her chambers, her arms around her body to shield her from the undeniable cold. The cold that didn´t even mattered for you, your body knew how to protect yourself. You looked out the window and realized the large groups walking out of the spaceships, no armor but instead big packages filled with medicine and stretchers. Their uniforms looked Asgardian.

The tall stone doors were pushed open and the first three persons to enter were Loki, Thor and Odin. Your father coughed before he could speak up, but then he managed to form some words. “King Odin, what are you doing here?” But Odin had no intention of speaking, Loki took the lead and simple stormed over to you. Now you embraced your own body as well, the whole attention that was suddenly on you made you shiver. Just a few feet before you Loki stopped and dropped down on one knee and small golden ring in his hands. You gasped shocked. “What the hell are you doing?” You asked screaming panicky and Loki just couldn´t resist to flash you a charming smile, which didn´t calm you down in any way.

“We both know that Asgard helping you is your only chance of saving your people.”

“Soooo?”

“So, I´m asking you to marry me.” You huffed a sarcastic laugh, but he didn´t allow you to interrupt him. “I know that under the circumstances of how we met wasn´t perfect, but nobody ever has been able to calm me down like you. Nobody ever made me laugh like you. You helped me forget my worries and you fought the monsters in my head. And the minute you left, I missed you. I missed you so dearly I couldn´t sleep because your picture haunted me in my dreams. I knew it was a mistake letting you go, and I know it won´t happen again.”

You hated to admit it, but small tears formed in your eyes, which you tried to blink away as good as you could. Never had you expected marriage to be knocking at your door, not so soon. Probably not ever. But now with Loki kneeling here in front of you smiled at the idea. You smiled at the past memories you had with him and the concept of many more of those moments in your future filled you with excitement.

“Yes.” You breathed and Loki, who was still struggling to find fitting words, fell silent.

“Yes?”

“Yes!” He jumped off the ground and put the ring on your finger, his hands still shaking. Then he tightly embraced you, pulling you off your feet. Your arms embraced his neck and you pressed your face in his skin. You glanced over to your sister and even Thor, they genuinely smiled at you.

I see you watching me, eyes on your target Mix drinks and smoke rings, it's already started Let's roll the dice and we'll both make our moves Playing like lovers do

  tags: @feelthefeelingsinsideyou @illuminateshawnm@imaginesforlotsofthings@suburbiasqueen  

[parf-fan]

Halloween 2018

I had hoped to have this finished and posted last week, but it took longer to write than I'd planned (and also I got sick, which slows everything down).  As it is, it only went through two-and-a-half drafts, so it is not the most well-written thing I've ever posted, for which I apologize.

This full-on essay is a critique of the 2018 Halloween scenario.  As such, it contains spoilers – major freaking spoilers – below the cut. I beg of you: if you've not yet attended the Halloween event, DO NOT READ THIS UNTIL YOU HAVE.  Even if you can't go, but plan on watching videos of it, wait to read this until you've watched the videos.  Not simply because of spoilers, but also because I do not want my opinions to affect your initial viewing.  You have been warned, and I entreat you to heed it.

Any critique worth its salt begins with the strong points, of which there are many, and I should like to talk about them anyway.

Half the new plot is awesome.  Midsummer-Night's Dream is my shit, and I am beyond stoked about the inclusion of its characters.  Even on the second day, when I knew it was coming, I could not stop myself from physically bouncing up and down in my seat from excitement at the introduction of Titania and Oberon.

The manner in which the ridiculous weather we've had all season (plus rehearsal month) was worked into the plot – not merely lampshaded or joked about, but as an actual plot-point – may be the biggest stroke of genius I've experienced at the Faire to date.  It is clever as heck, and adds an extra level of immersion.

SIX MONARCHS!  Oh, poor poor Kensington.  He didn't even freak out, he skipped directly to dead-inside acceptance.

The moment at King's Court in which the faerie monarchs are magic-tugging the goblet – and by extension, Triboulet – back and forth stuck out at me because of the excellent physical acting of Joshua Kachnycz.  He left absolutely no doubt that he was truly being magically pulled.

Likewise, Joshua's quick-change into the guise of Puck seemed exemplary to me (at least when both fog machines were working).  True, he did not change his whole attire, but in proportion to the parts he did change or add – in the middle of the stage, too! - I think he did it quickly and well.

Triboulet being Robin Goodfellow is not only totally in keeping with his character, but also bears out something he told me in Gauntlet once, something I meant to make a post about but never got the chance while I was thinking about it.  I had asked whether he had any genuine loyalty to Spain, or whether he was merely in it for the pay.  He responded with something along the lines of “Who said anything about pay?”.  Upon asking him to elaborate, he indicated that he was never hired by Spain, but rather was bent on causing chaos for the sake of chaos, stirring up shit for the pure fun of it.  That was when I knew that he'd be revealed as a faerie trickster come Halloween, but I didn't suspect Puck specifically until about two minutes before the reveal.  tl;dr, Triboulet as Puck matches perfectly with how I've been interpreting him all season.

Furthermore, the fact that it's Puck causing the primary mischief enables me to utter such phrases as “everything's Pucked up”, “Puck this”, “you motherpucker”, and “Puck you”.  It is the stupidest play on words possible, and I love it, and will likely not stop using it until everyone in the shire hates me or the season ends, whichever happens first.

Everything involved in deciding the fate / punishment of Puck is just beautiful. From seeking asylum in England, to being reduced to prose (which, mood), to throwing himself on Titania's mercy after learning about Jane's past, just all of it.  Side-splitting, well done.

THE NEW WORDS TO THE ROGUES' TREATY-SIGNING SINGING!  Oh my gosh.  When I realized what was being sung, I laughed very loudly and fairly long, probably confusing a few patrons who didn't notice the difference, possibly irritating some, definitely killing the moment for a few.  I love it.  I love it immensely and will never be over it.  For any who didn't notice or couldn't make them out, the new words are “Nosferatu, some spooky dudes,” over and over.  It is comedy gold, for the scene is so solemn and gratifying, and the new words sung in total seriousness, and with no specific attention called to them.  Comedy freaking gold, I tell you.

The mid Parting-Glass speech.  Holy shit.  Just.  Fuck me up, I have Emotions.  A lot of emotions.  I already almost cry upon hearing it, I'm gonna fuckin' bawl my eyes out on the last day.  Fuck.

The entire plot with Titania and Oberon and the conflict over the seasons and said conflict spilling over to harm the humans is spectacular, and I love it.  But the other new plot?  Not so much at all.  Why? Distilling down every issue to its core, the thing in common with them all is this: it's just bad writing.

What the wine plot tells me is that the writers' first impulse upon being presented with multiple lead romantic relationships is to do some sort of love-triangle-square bullshit.  Yet love-triangles/squares are boring and overdone, and present no challenge in terms of devising conflict.  They are uncreative.  And basing full half your plot around them is simply poor storytelling.

Similarly, one of the things I most admired about the main season was the presence of conflict without a joust to the death.  Setting up the Joust and conflict  without the promise of fatality is more of a challenge, and therefore the successful result is more engaging.  I take no issue with the fact that the Ultimate Joust is generally to! the! death!, but greatly admired the achievement of pulling off the plot without it just this once.  So when the Halloween Joust was revealed to have returned to its deadly state, I was let down.  If nonlethal Ultimate Jousts were a more common thing, perhaps I'd not be so upset about this.  But I believe this is the first one I've seen, and we all know it'll be to! the! death! once more next season.  Which I will have no problem with.  But returning the promise of fatality this season is a step backwards in quality.

During main-season Joust, I frequently found myself just beaming at the field, happy to watch six knights, all honorable in-universe (or so it seemed) and out, doing what they loved without filtering their enthusiasm through masks of hate or greed.  It was so wholesome a thing to be able to Favor any knight in wholly good conscience both in-universe and out.  Sure, Henry and Francis were being prideful idiots, but not so seriously that it compromised their morality overmuch, and thus I gladly Favored them.  I would not expect this of Joust every year, but I loved that it was so this season.  I loved that pure moment of contentedly smiling over the field, filled with love for all those riding upon it.  And I hate that I've been robbed of that moment three weeks too early.

The pre-joust dialogue was not between Francis and Henry.  I mean obviously, it wouldn't be, since they were both enchanted.  But it didn't even sound like enchanted versions of them talking.  It was straight-up Don Alonso and Sir Robert.  Literally.  Every word they said was the exact same stuff we hear from the Bad Knights, complete with the promise of drinking wine from hollowed skulls.  Perhaps it was just because I was already in a disappointed state of mind, but it just didn't seem effective.

The point that may gall me the most as a storyteller: the solution to saving the day came out of fuck-all nowhere. It was not hinted at, foreshadowed, or set up in any way.  Because I'm extra salty, let's look at some recent previous plots for a moment.  In Halloween 2016, the thing mentioned several times throughout the day was that Excalibur could only be pulled from the stone by one worthy to rule England.  Catherine drawing it forth thus fulfills a narrative promise.  In Halloween 2017, the point stated several times throughout the day was that Rumple could not be harmed by mortal man.  Thus, when Catherine successfully breaks his power, we understand why she is able to.  Main season 2018, the recurring thing throughout the day was the back-and-forth between the jesters. Thus, we can track the point to which Jane arrives at in shooting Triboulet.

But Halloween 2018, what is the point mentioned repeatedly?  What do the antagonists / new characters emphasize?  That the mortals cannot throw off the magic of the wine before sunrise.  What, then, does that indicate?  What is the logical storytelling resolution of that? That a faerie will be the one to undo it, or at least enable the humans to.  That is the narrative promise.  The fact that the mortals are able to break it on their own doesn't make sense, and cannot in any way be predicted or deduced or traced through after the fact from anything elsewhere in the plot.  That's poor storytelling, mate.

The Halloween plot is meant to up the antie.  To take things to the next level.  To be grander, more sweeping, more epic.  That's a simple fact of its existance.  And this year, the writers' idea of grander and more epic was to go from friendship-love saving the day to romantic-love saving the day?  NO! FUCK YOU!  You know better, I know you do!  Romantic-love is not inherently stronger or more important or more valid or more valuable than friendship-love, and I've always treasured the Faire as one of the few settings in which I can count on that truth being understood.  This is a betrayal.

Besides, the power of true romantic-love saving the day is amatonormative and just so. fucking. overdone.

My next point involves a different point, one I'd been meaning to write about since week one but never had time to.  I had truly hoped that the Chessmatch would be between the queens.  That's one of the things that made 2017 work so well.  The king got to win his glory at Joust, and the queen got to win her glory at Chess.  It balanced them out, and ensured that one ruler did not appear more plot-important than the other.  And so it should have been this year.  When I saw that it was not so, I took some consolation in the knowledge that the queens would at least have their moment in saving the day in Halloween.  But they didn't.  I mean, Catherine was the first to throw off the effects of the wine, if you count that, but it's not really the same. The queens were both wholly robbed of any opportunity to display their prowess and win their own triumph, and I am very much not okay with that.

Which brings me to the subject of the queens.  It may be most effective for this next point to quote directly from my stream-of-consciousness bullet-point brainstorming of all the issues I found with this scenario.

YOU MADE THE QUEENS FIGHT i will never forgive yo[u]

WHY DID YOU MAKE THE QUEENS FIGHT

LIKE REALLY

I DON’T GIVE A SHIT THAT THEY WERE ENCHANTED, I’M NOT TALKING ABOUT IN-UNIVERSE RIGHT NOW

HOW DARE YOU BREAK THAT BEAUTEOUS, WONDERFUL FRIENDSHIP AND SOLIDARITY WE’VE BEEN TREASURING ALL SEASON AND LONGING FOR FOR SO LONG

AN[D] OVER FUCKING ÉROS????? ARE YOU SHITTING ME

As the Halloween Chess initially unfolded before me, as the kings' tempers rose and they became more and more volatile toward one another, I was already thinking about the post I would write about the new scenario, and I noted that I would include something about how I was glad that at the least they didn't have the queens turn on one another.  I made specific plans to mention that as a silver lining, a partial saving grace.  And then they fell to the quarrel/fight scene between Hermia and Helena, and all I wanted to do was scream and throw things and, in hindsight, cry.

Let me take a moment to reiterate.  I fucking love Midsummer-Night's Dream.  It is my absolute favorite of Shakespeare's plays, it's the first play of any kind I ever saw, it was a facet of my childhood, and I was in two separate productions of it.  And in that play, the quarrel/fight between Hermia and Helena is one of my favorite scenes.  It's so much fun to perform, and gave rise to my tagline: though she be but little, she is fierce.  But that scene has no place here with these characters.

This then brings me to my next point.  In-universe, none of the fighting makes sense.  Since the looks matched up, everybody's wine!love was requited, and nobody felt a claim on someone another now wanted. I've watched Chess all four days, and the three most recent days, I've made active effort to track the development of the conflict, having not understood it before.  But I still cannot see what they are fighting about.  Yes, it was stated that the wine would fill the drinker with rage, but what we saw between the kings in the main season, that was rage.  This is rage combined with a massive fuckin dose of irrationality.  The reasoning gone through to arrive at both the brawl and the joust comes down to insane troll logic.  This is the second thing that bothers me the most as a storyteller.  If Oberon's line about the wine had simply included a mention of irrationality along with the rage, the whole conflict would seem a lot less bullshit.

And now, the third thing that bothers me the most as a storyteller: you guessed it, the cup.  Listen, Dumbshow-lampshading the utter lack of mention or explanation of the cup following King's Court does not make it good storytelling.  Last year's lampshade about the treaty worked because we'd already had a whole main season about that.  But the cup was just. abandoned, and not long after being introduced.  Of course I see the need for something to call the faeries to the shire, but you can't take the entire inciting macguffin of so primary a plot and so thoroughly ignore it for the rest of the story.

This is even less excusable when considered with the fact that there was ample opportunity to keep the chalice involved.  Simply have it present at Chess, mention in the preamble that the match is partially for possession of  the cup (albeit maybe temporarily), and add a line to Triboulet's toast-proposing, something about the toast also being in anticipation of the victor toasting his opponent's health from the goblet.  Once the wine takes effect and everything starts going to shit, the kings no longer care about the cup.  The cup should then also be present at Joust, since the faerie monarchs are wagering possession of it on said game.  It doesn't have to be made a fuss of, it just has to be there, and probably spared a few words in the part of the recap given by Titania and Oberon.  This would at least settle the plot point, if not resolving it, and actually turns it into something of a successful red herring.  At the start of the Chessmatch, the audience is expecting a continuation of the plot from King's Court, not a sudden love-square.  Reprising the chalice at the beginning of the match would bear that out, lulling the audience in to a false sense of plot-security, if that makes any sense.  The wine plot is then eased in rather than sudden; not because it begins any subtler, but because the fakeout plot lasts a little longer, and overlaps.

And a final, less significant note: the fae don't look like fae.  They pretty much look human.  Oberon looks his part a little better, 'cause he's got slightly odd eyes and an unusual crown, but that's it.  And Titania simply looks like a human in an orange dress and flower crown.  True, the style of her dress is not of the English Renaissance era, and that makes her stand out a bit, but it isn't disquieting.  At least the two previous years, the faeries have been visually off-putting, disturbing, unsettling, bordering on creepy. This post says it better than I can, so allow me to quote from it:

also i think that for me personally you are not doing midsummer night correctly AT ALL if you haven’t put a lot of work in on the part of the actors and costumers and makeup and other elements to make sure that the fairies are as unsettling and otherworldly and uh FAE as possible. the fairies aren’t supposed to be cute. titania should strike fear into the audiences’ hearts just by being onstage.

All in all, I have never been so disappointed in something from the Faire.  I am heartbroken, in a way.  This universe, the Megan-Zach universe, has been so very good from the start, and has just built exponentially the entire time.  There was the 2016 main season, and that was friggin' fantastic.  Then the 2016 Halloween plot, and that was even better.  Then there was 2017 main season, and that was better still.  The main season plot gave way to the 2017 Halloween plot, and bloody hell that was even better! Then there was the main season 2018, and holy fucking shit on a stick, that was freaking incredible!  And then there's the Halloween 2018 plot – which, nope.  They'd been building and building these three seasons and now, in this final moment, they partially blew it.  I've been informed that this is the last year of Megan and Zach as our monarchs, that this is it for this universe.  And this is not the note anybody – actor or patron – deserved to end on.

There are some silver linings though, and I should be remiss to not mention them. (Though most of them are not significant enough to be true silver linings, but rather what I refer to as pewter linings.)

First, I am pleased that they retained the bout of flyting.  As the day is no longer saved by Jane, the back-and-forth between the jesters is no longer necessary for the plot, and as such, neither is the flyting. It has been one of my favorite moments all season, and I am grateful that they left it there.  Particularly when considering that they had to remove the sample performance of an out-of-house performer in order to make time for the new segment.  I think that a good decision.

At the end of the chessmatch, Puck announces  the upcoming joust through an entertaining impression of Kensington.  Even if I weren't staying through the wine-affected monarchs' end-of-game bullshit in order to experience the faerie/weather plot, I'd stay just for that impression, because it's hilarious.

Getting to see Catherine wielding a sword at Joust almost makes up for a third of the wine plot.  Despite the awfulness of what enabled that moment, the moment itself is hecking fantastic.

After the faerie wine has been dispelled, Henry has a line saying that the enchantment could not have made him behave like that unless he already had the potential to do so.  This bears out an crucial point in the series of fic I'm (still) working on about the Bavarians.  I had already decided that faeries cannot manipulate anyone – physically, mentally, or emotionally – into doing something that the person in question did not already posses the capacity to do, and though it's not exactly a plot point, or even stated directly in the fic, it's very important to me, and is sure as heck gonna be mentioned in the author's notes.  So it was rather nice for that to be confirmed as canon.

At Finale, the human queens sometimes acknowledge that there was potential for them to have looked at each other after the wine. Moreover, they also acknowledge that that course of events would have been at least slightly less awful, and do not seem averse to the notion that this hypothetical version of events would've led them to become enamored of another woman.  This acknowledgment does not make up for too much, but it does help a little.

The real silver lining, though, the closest thing the wine plot has to a saving grace, is Sir Walter.  It wasn't just a matter of his reactions to everything being entertaining, as they always are, but genuinely interesting.  This line of plot takes his role as only sane man to the next level.  He went beyond “how can I salvage this festival day” to “how can I save these four people and both their realms from war and ruin”.  It was no longer a matter of stress for him, but of the wellbeing of two nations and all those therein.  This conflict threatens more people and more peace more than any conflict he's experienced here before (that we've seen), and that change altered his actions and reactions in a very tangible way.  It was quite enjoyable to see him go from just stressing over the day to stepping up and actively trying to change the course of events, even in conflict with the orders of his rulers.  He flat-out refused to announce the joust, for one.  And even during the final battle of Joust, he kept putting himself between the queens, knowing that it would result in his ass getting kicked.  If they're teamed up hurting him, they can't hurt each other.

There's also the extremely interesting fact that half the time the faeries did any sort of magic that physically manipulated the mortals (freezing everyone, making everyone fight each other in aid of the kings), it didn't seem to have any effect on Kensington.  Now, granted, I may just be looking at the wrong places at the wrong times on this one, but if absolutely nothing else, I know he is definitely unaffected by the everybody-fight-each-other enchantment.  This is both fascinating and really cool to me, and has the potential to open up some compelling character details.  I think I may sometime compile and run through a list of the different potential explanations I've thought of for this. (I'm sure it won't be too difficult to guess my favorite possibility even without seeing what all I've come up with, but it should still be a nifty post.)

Overall though, despite these pros that would've been impossible without the wine plot, the wine plot is, to my mind, terrible.  It is not badly executed, of course.  Far from it.  It is executed brilliantly and beautifully, and truly the actors and stagecrew and sound and effects teams have my admiration no end.   But being well-executed doesn't make the writing any better.  It is poorly-written, overdone, borderline cliché in places, and did not add to or enhance my experience.  I know the writers are capable of better, and cannot for the life of me determine why they settled for something so frustratingly mediocre.

How do I know it's bad writing and not just a plot I don't like?  Because when shit started going down, I became angry at the writers, not the characters.   That is the ultimate test of quality.  If something you don't like is happening in a story and you become angered at the people within the story, then what is happening makes sense, and does not jar you from the world of the story, although you disapprove.  If something you don't like is happening in a story and you become angered at the writer(s), then what is happening does not make sense, and you are jolted out of the world of the story, remembering it to be fiction.

I hate the wine plot, and what's more, I hate that I hate it.  I wanted to love the Halloween plot in its entirety, and hating so much of it just breaks my heart.  And in total honesty, I know that certain people were eager to see my reaction to the new plot, and I expect that they're at least somewhat crestfallen that I detest a good bit of it, and that knowledge just makes me even sadder about the whole thing, and I'm angry that it fell out this way, and I'm let down, and I'm disappointed in the writers, for – not to sound like a broken record – I know them to be capable of far better than this.

[cluelessnamelessao3]

It’s Raining Somewhere Else

The One with All the Warnings

They’d been on the surface for a year, and they’d been among the cities and towns for approximately a week. Although tensions were high, and there was an increase of anti-monster gang activity, there had been no real incidents of concern. Words, though only a step from actions, did not cause anyone physical harm at least.

The third day after the monsters were finally released in full was the day you found yourself wandering downtown, small backpack in tow, holding several copies of a half-baked resume you’d made with the help of your old university advisor and your papa.

You’d gotten a small, somewhat dingy apartment in a part of town that your father had proclaimed as “not right”. However, regardless of the quality of the apartment, or the environment of the surrounding buildings, you were just glad to be out of your cramped dorm, and even more glad to no longer have to live at home. Besides, it was what you could afford on your own, with your minimal savings.

Which, as it were, was dwindling rapidly. Who knew that furniture, appliances, and moving cost so much? You certainly hadn’t expected it.

Hence why you were prowling the local shops and stores in the hopes of finding some “help wanted” sign to remove you from your plight. You really didn’t want to go asking your papa for more money—especially after having just moved out. How would that look as a statement to your new-found independence?

You stopped in front of a wooden building, the sign at the top reading in big red letters Grillby’s Pub. From the outside it looked barely lived in, but still worn down. The wood panelling was dirty, and in desperate need of a pressure wash. The windows, though new, were painted over with slurs against the monsters. You could only sigh at the crude words and drawings. The state of the outside of this little monster-run bar was similar to some of the other shops you’d seen today.

They’d only been living amongst people for a short while, yet already complaints were being raised, and monsters were being harassed.

Gingerly, you opened a big wooden door, peering through the entrance to see a well-lit pub of sorts. You let the aroma of greasy food wash over you for a moment, your stomach singing its praise. The door fell shut with a dull click, and you wandered toward the bar. The room was mostly empty, aside from one suited dog with a lit treat hanging from his lip, and a rather ill-sick looking rabbit, whose head was currently facedown on the bar’s counter, her feet swinging idly from her perch on the stool.

There was no one at the register, but you could hear the grill in the backroom, and just barely you saw the flickering of a large flame. Behind the register were shelves, filled to the brim with many coloured liquids in an assortment of glasses and bottlesand glasses. On a regular piece of paper, written with nearly perfect calligraphic handwriting was “Help Wanted”.

You couldn’t stop the slight hop in your step at the site of that sign, as you moved closer to the register. The rabbit looked at you wordlessly for a moment, before laying her head back on the counter. The dog yipped once, and you smiled, giving a wave. TheyIt seemed polite.

The crackling from the backroom became louder, and suddenly a man of fire was standing behind the bar, washcloth in one hand, and shot glass in the other. He wiped it down, placed it on the shelf behind him, and fiddled with the other various bottles and tinctures on the shelves.

You felt awkward, standing in silence, watching this fire elemental do busy work. You couldn’t miss the tension in his shoulders, and if you weren’t so nervous, perhaps you’d have been more curious as to how a flame could hold a shape—let alone how a body part made of fire could show tension. How were his clothes not on fire?

“Uhm, I’m sorry, I just saw your ‘help wanted’ sign,” he stills slightly at the tone of your voice, “and I was hoping I could drop off a resume or pick up an application or something, I mean, I know you just opened up and all, and I just moved into the neighbourhood, and uhm, well I mean, sorry, I just would really like to work here—”

You coughed, cutting yourself off.

“Okay, let me restart,” you began again, introducing yourself. Your voice was losing some of its nervous shake, “I’m new in town, and looking for work. I was hoping I could grab an application or drop off my resume.”

At this, the bartender turned toward you, “I can’t pay you in human currency yet,” his voice crackled and popped, like the fire in a campsite. It was comforting, warm, and pleasant.

“That’s okay, there’s an exchange place nearby, and I believe my landlord even accepts Ebott’s coin.”

He nodded, and you swore you could see the hint of a smile on his face—or, whatever the fiery equivalent of one would be. “Well, let me see what I can do for you then, okay?”

“Jennifer,” he rasps, and suddenly that sorry-looking rabbit from earlier springs to life once more. Her ears fly up, twitching, and her nose wriggles as she stretches.

“Yes Cap’n, I’m up. Just needed a break from all the moving, you know?”

“Show Miss, er,” he paused, glancing toward you questioningly.

“I, uh, Kit-Kat is my, kind of, name, but Kit works” you mumbled, face beginning to heat up with embarrassment.

Kit-Kat was a name you received after your eight year old, sugar-crazed self had, on Halloween, broken into the bags of kit-kats for all the trick-or-treaters and eaten much more than your share. Your mistake was your indulgence of the sweet but crunchy chocolate bars, because, after all, children were not meant to eat so much candy at once.

In the end, you got sick. Amazingly sick. Spectacularly. You missed Halloween. You still liked Kit-Kats.

“Show Miss Kit around, Jen, while I grab some paperwork.”

The rabbit nodded, ears flopping, “Alright sweet pea, let’s chat.”

The bartender retreated to the back, and you turned your attention to the spunky looking rabbit, Jennifer.

“If you’re going to work here, you have to understand, you are welcome to be here, appreciated even, but,” she trailed off for a moment and you felt a pit growing in your stomach at her tone.

“You are not and never will be one of us.”

 The first week of working there wasn’t so bad.

The work was pretty fun, if you were honest. You, who had so much trouble talking to people, had found a suitable compromise. It was easy to serve people drinks or food, share a smile and a laugh, and partake in easy small talk. There was no pressure to be interested in their lives, nor they in yours. You didn’t have to worry about making a good impression because… well… delivering food to hungry patrons was the best impression to make.

Jen’s warning still rung in your mind, though. It tainted each interaction with a seed of doubt. Did they like you? Were you out of place here? Would you be forced to leave? At least she was nice to you, despite her cold words.

All in all, you quite liked your job. The atmosphere of the place was warm and easy, regulars and newcomers alike coming together to share a few drinks and a few stories.

Even Jen had warmed up to your after that initial warning.

She was funny, cracking jokes with you, and the skeleton that regularly showed up on late nights. She was also a flirt with the other customers—and with Grillby himself. It made you laugh to see her throw corny pick-ups at the flaming bar owner. His flame would flicker and sputter, displaying his embarrassment at her silly advances.

 Jen was off in her own world today, counting coins in the register while you wiped down counters for closing.

It was days like these that you felt most at peace.

There you were, dressed in a uniform similar to Grillby’s own, hair pulled back for the convenience. You liked the way the vest fit, hugging to your waist but not making you uncomfortable. Some days you wore black dress pants, other days you work a skirt to go with the uniform. It was whatever the moment called for, whatever struck you as the most comfortable. Jen liked to stick with the skirt, claiming it gave her better tips. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the truth. (You couldn’t deny she had great curves and was obviously cute).

You swiped up the rag you’d been using to clean the bar top off and meandered over to where a rowdy guest had spilled his drink. There were only a few patrons still inside, the chatter had dulled significantly as the hours stretched on, and the only sound, aside from the counting of coins and you cleaning, came from a grainy jukebox playing slow jazz.

“Hey Kit, you mind closing today?”

You looked over to Jen, who had finished counting the till’s money, “Sure thing, Jen.” You wanted to ask why, but hesitated. You were only just getting Jen to talk to you, did you really want to pry into her life? Would she want you to? You fumbled with the string on your apron for a moment, before speaking up once more, “So, uhm, got plans or something?”

You cringed, unsure if you came across as friendly or nosy, but it seemed Jen didn’t mind either way. In fact, she perked up the moment you asked.

“Oh, honey bun, I’ve got great plans tonight!” She grinned conspiratorially, “I’ve got a date…”

“A date?” You smiled, reaching one hand to push the loose strands of hair from your face, as you ambled closer.

“Yes, dearie, a date!” She shook her shoulders, shimmying with a dopey grin on her face, “and I’ll have you know, he’s a hot catch.”

“literally,” a new voice cut in, belonging to a certain large and rather large-boned skeleton you’d seen frequent the bar on many occasions. He never ordered from you, in the same way some of the monsters purposefully avoided your tables, and you were shocked he was even interacting with you.

Though, from the tension you could see from the way he gripped his bottle of ketchup (something you didn’t even bother to question), he seemed to be shocked too.

His voice was deep, gruff, and you had to admit, you liked it.

“Oh Sansy, shut it! He’s more than just literally hot,” Jen laughed, but you only felt more confused.

There was a joke somewhere in here, but it was flying over your head.

“jen, i’ve got a bone to pick with you,” his grin widened fractionally at his own joke, though he didn’t relax at all, “you’ve been pinning after him for months, lemme celebrate with you. after all, without me you wouldn’t have the backbone to have asked him out.”

Jen snorted, rolling her eyes good naturedly, “Okay Sansy, baby, you’re right.” She turned to you, “I’ve got a hot date with a certain flamesman.”

And suddenly, you understood. Actually, not only did you understand, you were also beyond ecstatic.

Grillby was one of the few monsters who treated you kindly from the get-go—at this point you considered him one of your few friends. You felt comfortable talking to the quiet elemental and cherished the nights you’d closed with him as well as the work he put in to train you to work here. You’d become pretty comfortable working: making food, drinks, and hosting people with a smile.

“Really?” You exclaimed, unable to hold in your excitement.

Sans expression soured as you joined back into the conversation, however he didn’t turn away like the other times you’d walked by.

“Yes, really!” Jen squeaked back, “So, you mind closing for me?”

“Not at all! I’m happy for you!”

She squealed and did something unprecedented: she hugged you around the middle, lifting you off your feet, and spinning you around the pub. It warmed your soul.

 Closing by yourself wasn’t something you were used to. After Jen had left, though, most the patrons also left aside from one: Sans. You didn’t understand why he stayed. Grillbz had left early in the day, so it wasn’t like he was waiting for his friend to get off work. Jen was getting ready for her date with Grillby.

He remained quiet though, just sipping on his ketchup, and flicking through something on his phone. A couple times you’d caught him staring, and you could see the suspicion in his eyes.

It was… to put it mildly, frustrating. You weren’t some criminal. You’d worked there for about a week. You’d been nothing but polite, hard working, and kind. Why did so many of the monsters still hold such distrust of you?

You wish you understood more. Even after a year of living on the surface, there was not much known about the monsters or their abilities. The only thing remarkable that humans learned was about magic, and the brief history of magic. Some humans were excited about the magical potential that monsters claimed humans also had. Others claimed them to be demons and blasphemous, but few groups paid those zealots any mind.

Scientists speculated that with the re-emergence of magic with the monsters, perhaps humans would become more in tune with their own soul, and potentially regain the power to wield magic. However, not much was being done about the research, even a year after the discovery.

It wasn’t until you finished closing down, that Sans finally stood to leave as well. He held open the door for you while you fumbled with the ring of keys. Once the building was locked and secured, he spoke.

“i don’t like humans.”

You nodded, already aware.

“you don’t seem to be bad, though. just don’t fuck up.”

[geminimoonbeamx]

Bucky Barnes x Plus size reader Fingerpainting

Word Count: 2K+

Warnings: Cursing(as usaual, ya’ll know I gots a potty mouth from hell) and teetH ROTTING COTTON CANDY FLAVORED FLUFF. Daddy! Bucky has my whole heart.

Growing up, your household had been vibrant, drenched in color, music filling every nook and cranny. Your mother had been something of a free spirit; You’d been raised on Fleetwood Mac and Jimmi Hendrix, on dancing in circles and bubbling laughter. Now, as an adult you cherished those memories, they we’re such a big part of who you are. And as a mother yourself, you made sure the tradition had continued on.

Made sure your children grew up with that same magical wonder that you had.

It’s what Bucky had noticed about you first, that sparkle in your (y/c) eyes, the curiosity and mischievousness. Cat like, as he liked to refer to them. You we’re his little cat; playful and full of life. And yeah, you had a vicious set of claws, but mostly you liked to be stroked. Both figuratively and literally.

You had this way about you, one that was like sunshine. That bubbly laughter of your contagious, your dimpled smile blinding.

Falling completely fucking in love with you had been easy, natural. He instinctively sought your light and you were more then willing to share it with him, give it to him. Light him up from the inside in a way that made him get a little awestruck because he’d never thought that he’d ever find something like you. He’d accepted the frigidness that had consumed him and here you came, like an Indian summer. All plump curves and saccharine words and butterfly kisses.

And he assumed that it couldn’t get any better; to have a woman that truly deeply loved him. Despite everything… well, what could top that?

And then you’d gotten pregnant and proceeded to set his universe into technicolor chaos once more. He hadn’t even realized he could still have children, that that was still an option for him.

You gifted him with something he hadn’t even realize he’d been craving; his first child. A daughter.

Faye Rebecca Barnes.

Who had your eyes, same spark and everything. But his pretty little up turned nose and his thick, dark hair. She was a tiny hummingbird of a girl, as soon as she could walk she was off in all directions; and he followed close behind, like he always would. Where there was Faye’s chiming laughter, Bucky was close by. The bond that those two had…was something that you couldn’t even fathom sometimes. It was beautiful, to watch them. To know that you had helped to create something so pure.

…Two somethings so pure. Your stomach had never been flat; had always been plush and jiggly, but at the moment it strained out round and firmly, stretching your skin taught. Like some had stuck a basketball under your shirt.

They say pregnancy the second time around is easier. Fucking hah, who ever said that didn’t have a three year old darting around. But still- you tried to stay positive. Tried to focus more on the beautiful parts of pregnancy…even though the ugly, irritating ones came in spades. Oh, how you desperately fucking missed not having to pee every ten minutes.

Baby Barnes number two had made it a game to tap dance on your bladder.

It’s a stormy Wednesday afternoon, nothing particularly exciting or special going on: you’re sitting on the living room floor because its the only place you can seem o get comfortable with Faye, the large glass coffee table in front of you littered with oil pastes and colored pencils. Discarded papers blotches with swirls of color dispersed all over as the two of you drew idly. Bucky was laying on the couch behind you, the one that you lean against, reading the newspaper as Dumbo played on the flat screen in the background.

“Mommy what’s your favorite animal?” Faye inquires, not looking up from her paper and the long erratic strokes she’s making with a teal colored pencil. She was only three, and she’d seemed to inherit your “artistic nature” as Buck liked to call it.

“Seahorses…Or maybe flamingos. I cant decide” You scrunch your nose, focused on your own art. Sunsets and constellations stare back at you, you use your thumb to blend the smooth pastel colors into one hypnotic shade. “What’s yours, Honeybee?”

“Mermaids” Faye shrugs as though its obvious “I like pink elephants too”

From behind the newspaper, Bucky has a large grin on his face. Shaking his head a little at the two of you.

“Is that why we’ve been watching Dumbo on repeat?” He wonders, his gruff voice amused as he reads an article on ‘Stark Industries new Holliday Season Technology.’

“It’s my favorite” Faye nods. Favorite of the week, that is. Last week had been the Aristocats, the week before that Moana.

Bucky could literally sing “Your Welcome” from start to finish. Faye insisted her father be Maui for the upcoming Halloween because he had “pretty hair” just like him. You’d laughed HARD at that, but whispered to him that you wouldn’t mind seeing him only in a grass skirt, your tone had him grabbing at your plump ass.

“Really? It used to scare me a little bit. Especially the pink elephants on parade part. Super trippy if you ask me” You laugh, looking up from your page at your daughter. Her dark hair was pulled up into a messy knot on the top of her head,

“I like 'em. I think they pretty” The three year old defends.

“It does make my head spin a little. I remember reading somethin’ about Walt Disney being all hopped up on dr-” Bucky stops himself, shooting Faye a look “-…Sugar, when he made a lot of these movies”

You laugh. It’s uncanny how similar it sounds to your daughters.

Bucky thinks that’s part of a reason the little girl has such a tight hold on his heart. Obviously, she was his child, and he would love her regardless of what she looked like. But the fact that she was a mini version of you was really what got him.

Faye laughed like sunshine too.

“Yeah I’ve heard that too! And it makes so much sense, this was a trip gone bad…or good I guess. Since you know, its a classic” You add.

“A trip to where, mommy?”

You snort and Bucky puts the paper down a little bit so that he can not only see your reaction, but your response. One of his eyebrows raise.

“Umm, to a place where only adults go. We’ll talk about it when your in college?” You test the waters. Even after years, this whole parenting thing was still touch and go to you.

You didn’t think you’d ever fully have it down.

Bucky’s little chortle from behind you makes you turn around and shoot him a glare to which his hand, the metal one, comes down and rubs your shoulder in apology; his cool fingers massaging the muscle near your neck in a way that had you leaning into him.

You still love the feeling of his hands on your skin, still makes goosebumps rise. You hope you never loose this feeing.

Faye, as usual, looses interest with what she’s doing before her movies even over.

“I’m bored” She whines dropping her pencil “I wanna go swing”

“No, Faye. It’s raining and you’ll not only get all muddy, but you’ll get sick” You try to explain to her the reason why your such a kill joy. Of course she doesn’t seem to hear any of it.

“Daddy?”

You breathe through your nose. Of course.

Bucky was what people call “the good parent”. What you said no to, she’d usually be able to convince her father into letting her do.

She really was manipulative for a three year old.

“Where do you think she gets that from?” Nat had taunted once, looking at you with laughing eyes and you’d shoved her shoulder.

“No baby, you’re moms right. You’ll get really sick and then you wont get to go play at Uncle Steves this weekend. And you’ve been so excited to see Noah” Bucky sides with you, trying to convince her with the promise of seeing her god brother, Steve and Sharon’s one year old son.

Faye huffs and pushes her paper away from her so hard that it, along with a few pastels, flies off the table. She then lets her head fall to the glass with a hard thunk, one that made Bucky wince.

“I’m so bored” She cries dramatically. You know how people talk about the terrible two’s? Yeah you we’re starting to think the troublesome threes were worse.

“Do you want to watch a different movie?”

“No”

“You could come help mama make lunch? Chicken fingers, you favorite?”

“No”

“We could go find Kit? I think she’s scared of the thunder, she’s probably under your bed-” Bucky offers, he knows how much Faye loves that cat.

“NO DADDY” Faye interrupts him with a snap.

“Faye Rebecca Barnes, you do not talk to any adults that way, much less your dad. You probably hurt his feelings” Your tone is not cutting, but authoritive . She knows better then that. She doesn’t look up but you hear her sniffle as she turns her head, facing away from you.

You purse your lips, before leaning your own head back, enough that it rests on Buckys thigh. Your eyes closed. Did you hate making her cry(even if you knew she was just faking?) Yes. But you also wanted to make sure she grew up to be a decent member of society that other people could stand. And that meant teaching her that she couldn’t snap to get her way.

Bucky knew that too…he also knew you had way more resolve then him. So instead of making it worse, he kept his mouth closed and let you handle it. Smart man, your husband.

…as the minutes ticked by, the silence a little overwhelming you realized that you too, were bored.

Making you empathize with your little one. Boredom, the death of creativity. It had always made you antsy, being idle. You feel Buck’s hand in your hair, the metal one, and you get a passing idea.

Remembering a time when your mother had let you and your siblings finger paint on her back…

“Hey, Faye” You call to her, and she mutters a small “What” without looking at you. She could pout with the best of them.

Something she’d inherited from both of you.

“Wanna do something fun?” Your voice is eager and it makes both Faye and Bucky give you almost identical looks.

“Like what?”

You just grin and manage to heft yourself off of the floor(with Bucky’s arm steadying you) and waddle out of the living room, towards your art closet.

“Where’s she goin?” Faye questions her father and he shrugs but sits up, anticipating your next move.

“I don’t know, but knowin’ your mother- it’ll be something messy” Bucky guesses as he looks down at Faye, taking a minute to bop her on her little bun. She beams up at him, grabbing at her hair.

“Hey!”

“Sorry pumpkin” He chuckles, before bopping her again. He’s ready for her when she launches herself into his lap.

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings” Faye whispers against his scruffy cheek as he holds her.

“It’s okay” Bucky scratches her back lightly “I’m a big boy, I got over it”

“Okay, lets do this” You announce as you come back in the room and both of their heads turn to meet you. In your arms, resting on your stomach, is your plastic container full of washable paints and glitters. Body paint…

“Told you. Messy” Bucky tells Faye who squeals and makes grabby hands at you.

An hour later, you’ve managed to lay the news paper that Buck was reading out on the floor. Protecting your rugs from the splashes of paint. The three of you sit on the hardwood, Bucky has stripped off the hoodie he was wearing and now sits in just his white singlet, holding his metal arm steady and still as you Faye paint on the surface of it. Both of your fingers covered in multicolor paint as they swirl colors onto the sleek metal.

Faye draws purple clouds and orange seahorses(or at least she tries) and you work on an intricate, realistic looking array of wild flowers with a detailed sunflower in the middle of them.

He squirms a little as your fingers trace the edge where his steel shoulder meets warm flesh.

“Don’t move, daddy!” Faye barks at him and you giggle.

“Yeah, daddy” You stress the word, biting your lip and shooting him a devious little smirk that your daughter misses “Don’t move”

“It tickles!” He protests with an exasperated laugh, but stays still all the same. He cant tear his eyes off of you, so concentrated. Little specks of yellow paint smeared on your soft cheek, your belly swollen with his second baby. He reaches out with his flesh hand to rub at the bump tenderly.

You’d given him everything.

“I love you, sweets” He whispers, watching your short fingers delicately trace details into the flowers. You look up, breaking your concentration to smile at him.

“I love you too, Buck” You reach up and press a kiss to his stubbly jaw, then another to his chin. And finally laying a big one on his cheek.

When he feels another set, of smaller lips, press a quick peck to his other cheek his heart swells.

“Love you, daddy” Faye chirps, as she settles back down. “Momma do seahorses have three eyes or four?”

“Four” You answer with a smile.

-Okay I know this wasn’t smut but this was requested and I felt like I needed to write some Dad! Bucky because I love him so much and he’s such a cinnamon roll and wouldn’t he just make the best dad? I wanted their daughters name to be something old fashioned, but still interesting because this Readers an artist and I just think she’d want her children to have unique sounding names? Idk. Enjoy. Cry. Do what you must💘😂

[gohyuck]

jungkook - chocolate

high school au... aka the school orchestra is selling chocolate out of boxes right now as a fundraiser and i think i bought 7 bars of dark chocolate in two days and it and also its breast cancer awareness month and all of this (along with this) inspired me to write this whole mess... 

“I will personally - stop laughing at me - personally kick your ass if you don’t give me back my box right n- what’s so funny?”

He just chuckles and makes no move to lessen your burden. If you’re not mistaken, he even stretches ever so slightly on his toes to thrust the box even higher up, even higher away from you. 

“Fine, then.” You mutter, feeling more and more as if you’re talking to yourself. Your backpack falls from your shoulder as gracefully as possible (meaning what it really does is slide off of your arm, dropping with a dull thud on the tile of the hallway) and you stare at it for a moment, pondering if you’re really about to do what you’re about to do, before turning back to the chocolate thief.

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow.

You solidify your decision - yeah, you’re really about to do it. 

He smirks before breaking out, again, into poorly suppressed laughter at your predicament. 

...Fucker. 

In the blink of an eye your legs are securely wrapped around his waist, having used his foot as a stepping off point to launch yourself onto him. Your friend stumbles, steadying himself against a corner to avoid dropping not only your box but you and himself. It’s a good thing, you decide, that Jungkook’s started working out and can now physically support both of you. 

(Your brain reminds you that that’s the very reason half of the girls in the grade stare at him, now. You’re not a fan of it. Yikes - you push that thought out of your head.)

“What the hell?!”

“Fucker.” This time you say it out loud. Your face is stone cold, you know it, and Jungkook inadvertently lowers the offending arm. Snatching your box of chocolates you jump down from him, almost tripping over your own feet but not quite. After retrieving your backpack from its place on the ground you open the box, giving the contents a once-over. 

You turn back to glance at Jungkook.

He has the grace to look deathly afraid. 

You cock an eyebrow. 

He blinks before shaking himself out of his stupor and mumbling something that you almost don’t hear.

“Fucker.”

You smirk. 

“What are you even fundraising for?”

He interrupts your loving stare at your sandwich. You pull a face best described as hangry. To the right of him, Jimin hides a snort behind his apple. To the left, Namjoon coughs into his pasta. 

“You’ve spent at least twenty bucks on at least twenty bars of wafer crisp and caramel and you don’t even know what the money’s going towards?”

Jungkook shrugs. “I like my chocolate.” 

Your stare moves from loving to incredulous and from your lunch to the boy sitting across from you. Ailee, unnoticed by you, takes a picture of your expression, sending it to the group chat. You’ll playfully kick her ass about it later. She’s safe for now, though. Jungkook, however, is not. He senses this, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Anyways, I’m asking now.” 

“It’s breast cancer awareness month, so we’re raising money for the National Breast Cancer Foundation. We’re selling pink out shirts, too, in the school store.”

Jungkook nods, looking thoughtful. There’s really not much else to say on the topic, so he turns to lean over Jimin and advise Yugyeom on Clash of Clans while you settle for taking a bite out of your sandwich with one hand and checking your phone with the other- Ailee’s sent something to Super Saiyan Suckers. 

You open it. Your comical face stares back at you.

“...Ailee!”

You’re so busy chewing her out that you don’t notice Jungkook’s thoughtful eyes straying towards you repeatedly and quickly darting away everytime you look over at him. 

You’re pleasantly surprised when Jungkook buys an entire box of chocolate from you. Where’d he get the sixty bucks from? He just sheepishly scratches his neck when you ask, so you decide not to press on. 

You wonder what he’ll do with the almond chocolate bars - he hates those.

It should be impossible to be sick of chocolate, but you’ve always sneered at the impossible.

See also - you spent sixty dollars, bought your own box of chocolates, and plowed through a solid third of it in an hour, let alone in a day or a week, and you never, ever want to see anything brown, anything sweet, and anything starting with the letter “c” ever again. 

Current situation - legs crossed, back against the wall of the fine arts hallway, backpack sandwiched between you and your 2/3 full box of chocolates (there’s 34 bars left in it, actually) so you don’t even have to look at it, water bottle nearly empty at your feet due to your failed attempt at washing the chocolate taste out of your mouth. 

The choir room door opens. You can’t bring yourself to scramble to your feet - the four pounds you’re sure you’ve just gained weigh you down. Instead you swing your backpack onto one shoulder and take the water bottle into one hand. 

Conveniently forget the box of chocolates. 

Jungkook stands in front of you and you stare up at him expectantly, sticking your free hand out. He sighs, grabbing it and hauling you up with more strength than needed, sending you crashing into him. Both of you straighten yourselves out, him trying to ignore the rising blush in his cheeks. You don’t notice. 

Instead, you smile at him in thanks and start walking towards the door at the end of the hallway - while it had been your own choice to wait for Jungkook’s hour long rehearsal to end so you could go home together you’re not keen on spending even more time at school - and you know he’ll follow behind. 

He kind of has to. You’re his ride. 

You feel him bend and pick up the box of chocolates you’d left on the ground. 

“You can keep it. I paid for it.”

“If you paid, then why would I keep it?”

Push open the door. Fading sunlight greets you. You can’t help but turn your face up towards the sky. Behind you Jungkook smiles at the sight. Finally you look back at him to respond, and he hurriedly changes his face to a more neutral expression. He looks like an idiot, instead, when your eyes meet his. Is he red? Maybe it’s just the way the light is falling on him. Whatever it is, you find it adorable.

(And attractive. You try to blink that idea away - Jungkook’s been your friend since the beginning of time. He’s the same idiot who drew asymmetrical stars in black sharpie on your bedroom wall seven years ago, just older. You never scrubbed off the stars, though. They’re just hidden by your bedframe, now. The reminder makes you sad, for some reason.)

You shake your head to clear it and to reply to him. 

“Consider it a birthday present.”

“My birthday was last month... remember, you gave me that Build-A-Bear gift card in case I ‘ever feel my inner furry and decide to buy myself a playmate.’ You ruined building for me. And bears. And stuffed animals in general.”

“Listen, Jungkook, I didn’t present you this wonderful gift to argue with you, I-”

“If you stop talking, I’ll keep it.”

“...But my silence for $8,000 a month.”

“At this rate I’ll just walk home, melted chocolate and everything. By the way, how much of this box did you eat? It’s kind of light.”

“...I’ll leave you here.”

“Damn. No wonder you’re trying to get rid of it.”

“Sh-shut up. Shut up. I’m your ride, you walnut, stop disrespecting me.”

“God, alright, alright. Fine. Thanks for the chocolate.”

“No prob- where are you going? My car’s that way.”

It’s the Friday before Halloween and the last day of chocolate selling for breast cancer donations. You’re at $469, trying to sell your last eleven chocolate bars. You’re desperate, really - you want to raise the money for the foundation, of course, but a little part of you also just wants the chocolate to be out of your sight. 

Next year you’ll sign up to man the school store every morning and afternoon instead. Taehyung, Mino, and Seulgi get to greet customers, sell shirts, and make and hang up posters without worry of either being mobbed by sweet-tooth crazed highschoolers or being snubbed while trying to overcome awkwardness and lack of salesmanship.

Chocolate drains you. 

“Hey,” A hand waves in front of you, pulling you out of your thoughts. It’s Minghao. He’s whispering, since the teacher’s up at the board explaining why post hoc ergo propter hoc is a logical fallacy and he doesn’t want to interrupt. “Do you have any darks left?”

You blink. You don’t. 

You want to scream.

“(Y/N)?”

Minghao’s a nice guy; you’re not close to him but you make smalltalk with him without qualms in the classes you have with him. Even so - you aren’t best friends or anything. 

Which is why, needless to say, he’s just a little concerned when you quasirobotically respond to his question with a succinct “I’m a shell of a person.”

“Uh...”

“(Y/N) doesn’t have any darks left, is what this... shell of a person meant to say.” 

Jungkook swoops in, less smoothly than intended, to save your ass. You nod, embarrassment overcoming you as you realize your dramatic flair isn’t understood by everyone. Minghao nods, eyebrows still a little furrowed together, and turns around. 

“Nice one.” Your friend snorts. You knock your shoulder against his in mock annoyance. He laughs, just a little too loud. 

“Mr. Jeon, since your head obviously isn’t in the lesson, would you mind telling the class what you were thinking?” 

This time, Jungkook is smooth. For once. “I’m thinking that (Y/N) just needs to sell a few more chocolate bars to finish this last box and to raise a few more dollars for the breast cancer foundation. Does anyone want to buy some?” 

Red creeps up your neck and you cough, looking down. Unseen to your eyes, the teacher’s face softens. 

“I’ll have three of whatever you have left; I should have a few dollar bills in my bag. Anyone else?”       

Jungkook goes around with your box for the next following minutes, emptying it out and collecting the last $11. There’s a “finally” on the tip of your tongue. Now you can turn in the money you’ve raised to the front office - you hope the total is over $5,000.

After the bell rings you throw your arms around Jungkook’s neck enthusiastically and he laughs at the suddenness but buries his face in your shoulder in response nonetheless.

It lasts just for a moment. 

You’ve hugged him before, of course you have. For some reason, though, it’s never felt like this. 

His arms are warm around your waist; you can feel his body heat through your clothes. The inside of your forearm brushes against the junction of his neck on accident when he pulls you closer and - wow, have his shoulders always been this broad? Jungkook moves so his hands are resting on your hips for a moment. You take a step back, your palms flat against his shoulders. His muscles shift underneath your fingers as he holds you an arm length away, smiling down at you. 

Why’s your heart beating so fast? You try your best to shove the obvious answer out of your head. 

You clear your throat.

“I owe you one, Kook.” 

He lets go of you and you move your hands to your sides. “Sure.” Jungkook grins at you. “I was just being a good friend, though.” You two begin walking towards the main hall.

Friend. That word’s never filled you with dread before.

(That’s a lie - it always has with Jungkook. You’ve always been good at pretending it hasn’t, though.)     

“Don’t you have to go to lunch?” You wave at him, turning right to get to class. 

“Yeah. See you later, though.” He waves back. Turns left.

“Later.”

Door duty. 

It could be worse, you decide while flipping through your history notebook absentmindedly (they’ll curve the test anyways, you’re sure of it) and simultaneously keeping an eye on the front door. The stream of kids trick-or-treating isn’t steady - an hour ago you were forced to stand by the door as the doorbell was ringing nonstop, but for the past twenty minutes it’s been fairly quiet. Probably because it’s getting late, honestly. Now only some middle school age kids and other teenagers are out, and, even then, it’s a school night. Some, like you, have tests tomorrow to study for tonight.   

It’s both a blessing and a curse, actually. The less kids there are, the more time there is for you to think. The only problem is that instead of pondering the differences between Legalism, Confucianism, and Taoism, your mind keeps drifting back to the one and only Jungkook Jeon. 

It’s been four days since what you’ve mentally deemed the Fateful Hug happened, and you’ve forced yourself to face reality. You’ve fallen in love with someone who’s one of your best friends. 

It doesn’t help that he probably doesn’t like you back - after all, literally everyone on the planet is enamored with him. He could pick anyone, you surmise, why would he pick you? Especially after he’s seen you not just at your best, but at your very, very worst.

You’ve put Jungkook through a lot, and you know it. 

Closing your notebook you shove it away from you, causing it to slide across the table. You’ll retrieve it later. You choose, instead, to shoot Ailee a quick text, asking for help. There’s not much else for you to do.

i need help getting over jungkook send help pls and thank

Your phone dings not a second later, and you pick it up again. 

you like kook?? -nj

     why the hell do you have A’s phone joon

were neighbors remember

     yeah but still

     kook is my neighbor and he isnt over at mine

im helping her dogsit, her parents dont trust her

and shes in the bathroom

     and they trust you??? you nearly burned down their HOUSE

anyways thats not the POINT

you like JUNGKOOK is the point

     pls give ailee her phone back

     also dont u fuckin DARE tell kook 

     forget i said anything disaster man

i resent that nickname

You wince - this wasn’t meant to happen. You trust Namjoon though - out of all of the boys, he’s got his head screwed on the straightest... even if he’d lose it if it wasn’t screwed on at all. 

You receive a text. 

ok but whats new tho - ailee

     wdym...?? i like kook is whats new

youve liked him since like the beginning of time

     thats sooo not true

youre telling me you just realized NOW?

     well yeah bc i just started liking him

     anyways just 

     how do u get over a guy you see everyday 

Do Not

im 99% sure he likes you back

     ailee ur a lotta things but uve never been a LIAR before

namjoon says kook is so far up your ass that

he can prob see your intestines

joon says he needs you/kook to get together

     namjoon needs to work on analogies 

     is what namjoon needs

just like

kiss him or something idk man

     thats not how it works

thAts nOt HoW iT WorKs

joon said he’ll help u

     uhhhhh

     is that a good

     IDEA 

It’s been a solid five minutes of no response from Ailee when suddenly the doorbell rings, startling you. The idea of Namjoon helping you with anything scares you - after all, putting two overthinkers together just results in more overthinking. 

The doorbell rings again. 

The phone dings. 

You sigh. You’ll respond to Ailee in a minute - it’s Halloween and some poor kid is on the other side of the door waiting for candy. Grabbing a handful of Hershey’s kisses you swing open the door.

Only to find yourself face to face with Jungkook. 

“Trick or treat.” He grins, slightly sheepish. His right hand comes up to scratch at the back of his neck, something he does when he’s nervous or uncomfortable. Huh. 

You blink.

“Oh.” You shake your head immediately, mentally chastising yourself. He’s still a friend - act like it! “What’s up. Come in, dude.”

Jungkook steps in, closing the door behind himself. “I can’t stay long, it’s game night and you know how my brother gets about not getting the chance to kick my ass in Call of Duty, but, uh...” He scratches at his neck again. 

“You okay?” For some reason, your heart is in your throat. Kisses are still in abundance in your palm and he reaches over, unwrapping one and putting it into his mouth. It seems like an effort to calm himself down.

You set the rest of them down on the table. Jungkook jerks his head to the left for a split second - something he does before proving himself or readying himself to overcome something. Usually, of course, it means he’s about to whoop Seokjin’s ass in a video game.  

There’s not much time to think about that though, as Jungkook lips are, almost out of nowhere, hovering above yours. Your breath catches.

“You know how you said you owe me one a few days ago?” His voice is lower than usual. You let air out between your lips.

“Yeah.” Words are straining against your lips, on the tip of your tongue. For some reason, however, you can’t say them out loud. 

“You didn’t say what you owed me.” His nose bumping yours, whether accidentally or on purpose, reminds you that you’ve known him for forever. You’ve known every curve of his face, every type of laugh he has, every expression he makes like the back of your hand for years. Why are you so afraid of speaking now? 

You shouldn’t be. So you aren’t.

“Just kiss me, you asshole.” 

Jungkook obliges. 

He tastes like chocolate, the Hershey’s he’d just let melt on his tongue serving another purpose than just steadying jitters. The kiss doesn’t last long, and when you pull away Jungkook looks awestruck. Red rises in both of your cheeks. 

Realization hits as your phone notifies you of another text.

“Did Namjoon text y-”

“Yep.” Jungkook allows his smile to widen. You laugh and take a step closer to him, pulling him nearer as he hugs you tightly. 

“I’ll kick his ass,” You pause. “You know, I was starting to hate chocolate.” Words are muffled by his shirt. He chuckles into your hair. 

“Did I change that?”

“...Maybe so.” 

After what feels like an eternity you both let go of each other. You both begin speaking at once.

“I have to study for history-”

“Bro’s waiting-”

It goes silent. You roll your eyes. Press a kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t keep him waiting. I’ll see you in first period tomorrow.”

Jungkook grins and leans in, his lips meeting your forehead. Too soon he’s out the door and walking the twenty feet to his front porch. Before walking in, he sends you a flying kiss.

You send one back and shut the door behind you, leaning against it for a second. Wow. 

Your phone is exploding on the table and you assume that Jungkook must’ve told Namjoon what happened. You’ll deal with that later, with Ailee and Joon later. Right now you need a minute to process everything yourself. 

(A really, really, dumb, sappy, in-love smile takes over your face. You’re sure you look like you’re insane - it’s a good thing that nobody’s around to see it.)

You get your history notes from across the table and settle down in your chair again to review everything you need to know. Holding the notebook with one hand you absentmindedly grab a chocolate from the tabletop, unwrapping it and placing it on your tongue. 

It’s funny, really - a week ago you would’ve denounced chocolate willingly for the rest of your life, and now, you’re enjoying some good ol’ Hershey’s without any strong emotions tied to it.

It’s also the second best kiss you’ve had all day. 

hoo boy this ending...needs work but idk how else to end it...i hope it wasn’t too bad!! i feel like it was rushed and im prob gonna edit later

[darnedchild]

Molly Hooper - (Assistant Reanimator : Part Three

Also on FFdotnet and Ao3

With apologies to H.P. Lovecraft - A modern retelling of Herbert West - Reanimator.  Written for the 2017 Sherlolly Halloween fest.

Part Three - The Plague-Daemon

“Surely you don’t expect me to believe that your associate brought a man back from the dead?” Sherlock scoffed.

Molly reared back as far as her chair would let her, releasing his hand in the process.  “I don’t expect you to believe anything, Sherlock.  I’m simply telling you what happened.”

He immediately regretted the harsh disbelief that had coloured his tone and words.  His mouth opened as he fumbled for something to say that would convince her to continue, but Molly spoke first.

“It’s-It’s all right.”  She drew in a deep breath and gave him the barest hint of a forgiving smile.  “I’d probably feel just the same if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

Her gaze darted toward the box for a moment, then back to him.  “Unfortunately, the story is only going to get stranger from there.”

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

The barn fire had set their research back considerably. All of their notes, several variations of the serum, their equipment . . . all of it was lost.  Months of effort, years in Herbert’s case, were destroyed in the flames.

Herbert had been working on his graduate studies and Molly was still working toward her doctorate when the H1N1 outbreak of 2009 reached critical levels.  

The Arkham hospital was filled with the sick and dying. Some of the poor unfortunate souls were nurses and doctors themselves.  

The desperate need for able hands meant the graduate students and upperclassman from the medical school were asked to volunteer at the severally understaffed hospital.  Even Herbert, who had been on the outs with the dean, Dr Halsey, and been lured into service with the promise of the return of his temporarily revoked privileges in the dissection lab.

At first, Molly hadn’t understood why Herbert was so enthusiastic about his time amongst the coughing population.  He tended to lose interest in the recovering patients, choosing to take on the worst cases that the other doctors were more than happy to pass along.

Then he stopped her on her way out of the building after a long morning at Miskatonic and an even longer afternoon at the hospital.

“Mrs Matthias was one of yours, wasn’t she?”

Molly scrunched her nose as she tried to match a face to the name.  “Yeah, she’s not responding to treatment, so I . . . Wait.  What do you mean ‘was’ one of mine?  What happened?”

“I believe you were with another patient when she went into arrest.  Dr Wilkes called her an hour and a half ago.  She’s already been moved to the basement to free up her bed.  You know what that means.”

“Oh God.”  She barely had a second to mourn for the woman she hardly knew before Herbert grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the stairs.  “Please tell me you aren’t . . . Not here.   Not now!”

But he was.

Molly kept sending furtive glances toward the door to the body coolers, convinced that someone would burst through with and catch them at any moment.  Herbert rolled his eyes at her concern.  “We’re doctors, Molly.  Very nearly. We’re allowed to be here, Mrs Matthias was your patient.”

“Is that-Is that why you brought me down here?  To act as a cover for-for whatever it is you’re doing?”  She didn’t wait for him to reply as she stepped closer to the drawer he’d pulled out from one of the lockers.  “What are you doing, anyway?  Have you managed to recreate the serum already?”

Herbert set his messenger bag on the slab and pulled a small zippered case out of it.  He opened it as he answered, “Recreated, improved, and have begun testing it.  Mrs Matthias will be subject number three on this round of trials.”

“Three?” Molly yelped.  She quickly glanced around and lowered her voice.  “You never mentioned starting the tests again.”

“You’ve had other things to focus on the last few months, haven’t you?”  He pulled a syringe filled with a sickly yellow-green fluid that seemed to give off a faint glow.  “How is your father, by the way?”

She frowned; whether at the question or at the way Herbert had yanked the zipper of the body bag down and pushed her head to the side so he could insert the syringe needle into the corpse’s neck, she wasn’t sure. “He’s still weak from the latest round of chemo, but the prognosis is . . . good.”

He depressed the plunger and gave her a pitying look. “Good, Molly.  Really?”

She wanted nothing more than to focus on something other than her father’s condition.  “You said this was test number three.”

Herbert pulled out a second syringe and held it at the ready. “Number one was a failure.  But there were observable reactions with two. Shallow respiration, eyes opened.”

Molly was drawn in despite herself.  “And then?”

“And then nothing.”  He hurried to the other side of the slab and injected the contents of the second syringe into the flesh behind the body’s ear.  “It’s a process.  You know that.  Trial and error.”

They both leaned over Mrs Matthias and waited. Less than a minute later, the dead woman gasped and opened her eyes.  Molly swore that Mrs Matthias focused on her for one long moment with a wide-eyed, almost feral expression.  Then one rotten breath escaped Mrs Matthias’ lips and the body stilled for the last time.

Molly jumped when her mobile chippered with a text alert. Almost immediately, Herbert’s did the same.  She pulled hers from her bag and quickly read the text that had been sent to all the students that had agreed to offer assistance during the epidemic.  “It’s Dr Halsey.  He’s collapsed.”

“I’m not surprised.”  Herbert packed away his things, carefully tucking the zippered case into his bag.  “He’s been coughing for days.  I know Carmichael told him to rest, said he would be no good to the patients if he continued to run himself down.  Any idiot worth his degree would have been able to see the man was sick, not exhausted.”

“The flu?”  Molly hadn’t seen the dean in more than a week, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she might have been able to do something to prevent his collapse.  Most likely not.

“Undoubtedly,” Herbert agreed.  He finished zipping Mrs Matthias back into the body bag, and pushed the locker drawer shut.  “Go home, Molly.  With one less doctor on the rotation, our work load will only get worse over the next few days.  Sleep while you can.”

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

“He was taking advantage of the epidemic to experiment on dead bodies.”  Sherlock grimaced, obviously disturbed enough to restate the obvious. Something he would have pounced on with derision if someone else had done it.

“Pot, kettle.”  Molly rolled her eyes and waved her hands toward the morgue and the ceiling above, indicating the rest of the floors of the building. “Look where we are, right now.  We’re in a bloody teaching hospital, Sherlock. Bodies are donated for study all the time.  How many corpses have you, personally, experimented on?  And you’re not even a student.  Half the time it’s not even for a case, just your own morbid curiosity.”

He sighed and tilted his head in silent acknowledgement of her point.

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

Five days later, Dr Halsey aspirated in his hospital bed and died.

Herbert invited her to his flat that night, to commiserate over Halsey’s death with a bottle of Scotch.  She’d been tired, exhausted really; but it wasn’t often that Herbert reached out for human contact, so she couldn’t bring herself to turn him down.

“I’m so sorry.  I know how much you looked up to him.  We all did.”  Molly sipped her Scotch, careful to nurse the drink so that she wouldn’t end up fuzzy headed and tipsy.

“He was . . . my mentor my first few years at Miskatonic. He supported my research in the beginning, when so many others scoffed in my face.”  Herbert set his glass to the side and pushed his chair away from the small kitchen table they’d been sitting at.  “And that’s why I’m going to bring him back.”

Molly immediately felt ill.  “No.  No, no, no. You can’t.”

“I can and I will.”  He held out his hand to her.  “Are you going to help me, Molly?  Or are you going to let a brilliant mind like Halsey’s fade away without even an attempt to save him from the dark void of death?”

“But last week?  Mrs Matthias.  The serum didn’t work.”  Reluctantly, she let him take her hand and ease her out of her chair.

“That was last week.  I’ve altered the formula again; ran computer simulation after simulation, and they all exceed my expectations.  I think we can do it this time.”  

The way he said ‘we can do it’—with such childlike hope and excitement—had her hesitantly agreeing.  “Do you need me to drive us to the hospital?”

“Why?”  He grinned. “I’ve got everything we need right here, in the spare room.”

She felt the bottom drop out of her stomach again. “Everything?”  Surely he didn’t mean . . .

Her fears were confirmed by the sight of Dr Halsey, still in the hospital gown he’d been wearing when they had wheeled him to the basement morgue, laid out upon the bare mattress in the tiny spare room.

Herbert had already set out a tray (one that looked to have been stolen from the university canteen) with half-a-dozen syringes on the bed.

“You really think you’ve got it this time?” she couldn’t help asking as she fumbled on a pair of latex gloves.  

He smiled, pleased to see she had agreed to assist so easily.  “Only one way to find out.”

“Would you like to do the honours?”  Herbert held the first syringe out to her.  “Or would you prefer to stand by in case chest compressions are needed?”

Molly still remembered the quarter of an hour spent hovering over the body in the barn, working to manually circulate the serum through the corpse’s veins.  She’d been sore for days after.  She took the syringe and waited for him to indicate where he wanted the first injection to be administered.

She was readying the fourth syringe, careful to stay out of Herbert’s way as he straddled Halsey and prepared to begin compressions. Suddenly, the body jerked; Halsey’s back arched until only his shoulders and hips touched the bed.  Herbert fell to the side and rolled onto the floor. The memory of Mrs Matthias’ expression before she’d died for the second time made Molly step back in fearful apprehension.  

Herbert popped up, eager and undeterred.  “This is it, Molly.  He’s coming to!”

Halsey’s eyes had opened, his body relaxing into the mattress now that the initial muscular spasms were finished.  

“Doctor Halsey, can you hear me?  Can you speak?”  Herbert reached for the older man’s wrist, but Halsey yanked it back with a snarl.

Molly finally found her voice.  “Sir?  Are you . . . What was it like?  Do you remember anything?”  She was desperate to know what awaited her father when he died.

Halsey twitched and turned his face toward her. Molly took another inadvertent step back.  Whatever Herbert had brought back, it wasn’t Halsey.  At least not as she remembered him.  Instead of an advanced mind and benevolent nature, the creature on the bed was all base instinct and primal anger.

It lunged toward her with its hands curled into claws, and Molly screamed.  Herbert launched himself across the bed and rolled to his feet between her and Halsey.

“The mini-fridge behind you, find something to knock him out. We need to sedate him and get him restrained.  Move, Molly!”

She broke out of her stupor and pried open the cabinet to find vial after vial of drugs and chemicals that had clearly been stolen from the hospital.  She heard something crash behind her, an unholy howl, and then her own yelp rang in her ears as Herbert crashed into her back.  She dropped the bottle she’d been holding, crying out as the glass shattered at her feet.  Something yanked at her hair, pulling her backward.  Just as a strong hand wrapped around her throat, Herbert swung a metal desk lamp past her shoulder.  She heard a sickening thunk as the base of the lamp connected, then Halsey’s nails dug deep into her skin before releasing her.  Herbert dragged her away, once again placing himself between Molly and Halsey in some strange, uncharacteristic burst of chivalry.

Blood streamed down Halsey’s forehead, partially blinding the man who was literally frothing from the mouth.  He snarled, spittle dribbling down his chin, then spun around and ran toward the lone window in the room.  Herbert cried out “No!” as Halsey threw himself through the glass and loped out into the night.

“Jesus,” Molly rasped through her abused throat.  “What the hell was that?”

Herbert didn’t get a chance to answer as someone began to pound on the door to his flat.

“West?  Open up! Can you hear me, man?  I’ve called the police!”

He grimaced.  “Damn it.  We’ll never be able to explain all of this.”

Molly stripped off her latex gloves and tossed them aside, her mind already shifting through options for damage control.  “Answer it.  Tell them-tell them a strange man knocked on the door asking for help, and then shoved his way in and-and attacked us.  Stall them as long as you can.  Go!”

He was able to buy her two minutes, during which she hid the remaining syringes of serum and pulled various pieces of equipment from where they’d been stored on shelves hanging on the wall.  By the time the concerned upstairs neighbour pushed his way into the room, the desktop had been set up to resemble the sort of chemistry experiment one would find in a first semester class at uni.  The average non-scientist would be fooled, but anyone with a background in advanced chemistry would know it was a fake with a simple glance.  

Molly sat on the edge of the bed and held a clean flannel to the scratches on her neck.

“What the hell is going on?”  The neighbour pushed past West and knelt at her feet.  “Miss?  Are you all right?”

“Yes, I . . .”  She met Herbert’s eyes over the neighbour’s head.  He nodded.  Molly dropped her eyes and shuddered.  “We were working, and that man . . . He must have known we’re medical students and have been working at the hospital . . .”

Herbert picked up the story when she faltered.  “He fell into a rage when he couldn’t find the drugs he was looking for.  He attacked my associate, and escaped through the window when we managed to fight him off.”

The neighbour finally got a good look at the room, and slowly stood up.  “What were you doing in here, West?  What is all this crap?”

“She told you, Schneider.  We’re med students, and we’ve been working with patients at the hospital since the epidemic started.  We’re trying to create an alternative treatment for the virus.  A new, more potent vaccine.”

“Here?  Isn’t that dangerous?  Are we going to get sick?”  Schneider jerked back from Molly, as if he were afraid she was contagious.    

As police sirens echoed through the streets of Arkham, Molly was once again reminded of that horrible night in the barn and the eerie story in the newspaper about the desecrated grave.  What new horror awaited the town with the Halsey creature on the loose?  

Both of the local papers were full of sensational accounts of brutal home invasions for the next two weeks.  Five homes broken into over a period of twelve days.  Only two survivors left to tell tales of a crazed madman with superhuman strength and no mercy.  Eleven bodies torn to pieces by human hands.  

The papers christened the murderer the Cannibal Killer once a loose lipped constable let slip that certain details from the crime scenes.  Soft tissues had been removed from several of the bodies, teeth marks left in flesh, chunks of meat ripped from limbs.  The sort of grisly tidbits people loved to read about over their morning pancakes and coffee.

He was eventually apprehended on the fourteenth night of his rampage; spotted in an alley with a dead stray cat dangling from his fist.  He ran out of the alley, slamming the policeman into a brick wall hard enough to break his arm.  A group of police and volunteers armed with guns and flashlights followed his trail to a forgotten tool shed hidden behind overgrown brush on someone’s property. He’d made a nest for himself; stockpiling rotting meat and piles of discarded clothes and blankets obviously scavenged from dumpsters and trash cans.  

Apparently, no one made the connection between the snapping, snarling madman who refused to utter a single coherent word and the recently deceased and well-respected Dr Halsey.

The Cannibal Killer was quickly deemed unfit to stand trial, and was immediately committed to a padded cell at the Arkham Asylum.  In a matter of months, he had become the stuff of urban legends.

Rumours spread through the hospital about a misplaced body, but no one in the morgue would admit to anything (and risk losing their jobs).  Someone was laid to rest in Halsey’s grave, but Molly knew it hadn’t been the good doctor.

[anderleerose]

I get it.

I never used to get why holiday season is the worst time for people battling with depression. In my life we’ve almost always managed. Last year I ended up at my step mom’s for christmas morning by mistake because she was too scared to drive. I don’t even remember thanks giving. A few years back the big box of ornaments we’ve always had was stolen in a move. And yeah, we’ve never replaced them. Same with the tree, that was in the box too. So for the last 2-3 years we’ve had a charlie brown tree basically. A few ornaments we got at the dollar store and a handful we managed to keep somehow. The tree itself came from my best friend and it’s about two feet tall. I know it’s dumb and superficial but the tree has always been important to me so that’s been upsetting the last few years. 

Holidays have been weird since after my dad passed(Colon cancer in 2016) but we’ve been managing. Mom went into rehab in the summer of 2017 and she’s over a year clean now. But bi-polar and acute psychosis are a nasty pair on their own. Add drug(prescription) and alcohol abuse to that list and you’ve got a mess. She’s been in the psych hospital three time since getting out. The first time was some six months ago. The second was less than a month ago and the last time was for nine days, she got back four ago.  So I’ve been alone, a lot, lately. She left suddenly and I’d already been having a shitty day, got a message that was incomprehensible and then later a call that wasn’t much better. Last time she went in with suicidal thoughts and hallucinations. She seemed better for all of three days. This time there’s been no improvement. She slurs so much and only shares a fifth of what she’s thinking and then doesn’t tell you when she’s jumping to the next conversation. Not to mention her serious memory issues. It’s just my mom and I. And things have gotten really bad. We get a thousand dollars a month from the government in disability and death benifits but for the last four months we’ve only gotten our food stamps. We’re on section eight and we still can’t afford to live here.

 For the majority of my actual childhood(I’m 18 now) we’ve lived in transitional homes. For a few short occasions we were flat out homeless, and once or twice we lived with her partners. Once with her drug dealer who was neglectful to me and I wasn’t fed unless mom was home. But we’re sort of on our own now. Her bridges were burned when she went to rehab. Her parents are abusive and with just as many mental issues. And things aren’t getting better. Part of the reason we aren’t getting enough income to keep floating right now is because of my attendance. School has never worked for me, I’m dumb, I’m aware of this and I get so sick of people telling me I’m not. I can never get myself to go because I’m either sick or just too fucking tired to get out of bed. So I’ve gone two days in the past three weeks. That’s it. Two days. Mom has a job, sort of, she works weekends as a doordash deliverer with her friend who has a car(we don’t) but she’s constantly missing because either her or that friend are just ‘not up to it today’ My grandparents(from my dad’s side) Gave us a thousand to at least get out of debt and that was only last month.

I’m already sort of estranged from them because I don’t know how to talk to them. Mom accidentally let it slip and they know I’m trans. My grandpa ignored it(It’s what he does best when he’s not shouting_ and my grandma told her they still accept me and that was around the same time they gave us the thousand and I still haven’t called them because I don’t know how to talk to them. Everything is falling apart, and usually people like to think of the good ole days but I don’t have those. There’s always been a problem. I’m already brushing over some much traumatic bullshit. Rape, verbal abuse, so much shit had come from the situations I was put in growing up that school just feels so pointless. I want to get a job to make things better but I already know I can’t handle both. 

I want to drop out, try later, get a job somewhere close by for now and just fucking pray that does anything good but I’m scared I’ll never get an education period. There’s a lot of pressure on that. My dad was a genius. The real sort, wrote scary realistic sci-fi and knew what he was talking about. My little sister is just as smart, she’s only eleven now and she reads at a senior level, she’s been able to build(With minor instructions) computer circuts since she was about eight. She’s so much fucking smarter and I don’t even understand simple math. Intelligence and kindness was all that mattered to my dad, he’d always been so fucking disappointed when I showed him an F grade, and another and another because no, it never got better. Everything has been permanently falling apart and it feels like it’s all on my shoulders now. My mom’s only fifty and because of how fucked up she is she’s essentially senile. 

I was never taught a damn thing about how to take care of myself so my teeth are falling out. Literally falling out. And we can’t even go to the dentist because there’s too much on our plates. She handles all the medical stuff and I don’t know how to step in even though my pills have been wrong every time she’s filled them for the last few months. I haven’t taken any of my medications in a week because now she can’t even find what happened to the prescriptions. The only shit I’ve got going for me is some minor writing and drawing skills but I never have the motivation anymore. And now with the holiday season, all these ads showing up everywhere I look, everyone talking about plans. All I can think is how I already skipped over Halloween this year(Even though my best friend have always done it together since middle school) because I just couldn’t do it. There’s food in the house but barely, I’m well aware it’s gonna run out soon like it always does so I often choose not to eat. That’s a habit I’ve had since we first applied for section eight. I’m diabetic, you’re not supposed to not eat. But I can’t get myself to eat anything when it feels like there’s nothing there. 

And I just keep thinking there’s no way we’re doing anything for thanksgiving this year. The school sent home with me some giftcards to get stuff but I know it’s never going to be enough. And then christmas is just around the corner. I get it now, the reason it’s so miserable is because all those ads do is serve as a painful fucking reminder of everything you don’t have. And it’s shoved in your face with people laughing and saying “but it’s chrismas, don’t be a grouch!” but that just makes it worse because now you’re not allowed to be upset. And it’s the worst possible time to not be. I keep losing my train of thought while writing this because there’s so much going on. And that adult abuse services or whatever it’s called(Essentially CPS) has now been called on my mom and we’re 95% sure it was her old best friend who is an absolute monster to her kids and has been screwing with our lives for months. The worst part is I’m pretty sure we’re going to be separated because things are BAD. And I feel so fucking selfish because for the most part I’ve stopped caring. And lately my mind has just been so nasty to me. People dropping off after saying they’re there for me, a friend I’d considered truly close telling me I’m bad for his mental health, an emotional burden, and that we were never friends. Penny(My only constant boyfriend for the last few months. I’m poly-amorous, not a cheat) never has the time of day for me, even when I’m telling him about all the crap going on. I haven’t been to counselling in over a month because I’m terrified to use ‘safe transportation’ like we used to. They leave you there for hours and there’s no better option so they just can. All of that isn’t helping, obviously. 

I don’t know if I’d call this a cry for help or some bullshit, really I don’t think anyone’s going to fucking see this anyways and if they do who the fuck even knows if anyone goddamn believes me because I’m eighteen and there’s noooooo reason to have any strife at that age. Bullshit. I’ve always had issues with being talked down to or being told ‘oh but there’s always someone who has it worse’ is that meant to make me feel better? I already constantly tell myself my problems are stupid and no one cares. I’m sick and tired of people pretending to care too. No, you don’t, none of you fucking do. The teacher’s only care about my attendance and I’m tired of them pretending that it’s anything more than that.  

I’d just like to finish this by saying I’m not suicidal. I’ve never been suicidal but I just want to disappear right now. Don’t want to live in fucking reality.There’s honestly still so fucking much more to talk about but I’m done. The worst part is knowing nobody’s going to read this just feels fucking worse. There’s my dumb rant that no one’s going to bother reading and if you do sorry for bringing you down. So yeah, I get it now. the holiday’s are the worst times to be alive. 

[hellolovelyalcoholic-blog]

Anecdote

I was thirteen years old the first time I consumed alcohol. I went into my parent’s pantry and cracked open a fifth of Malibu Rum. Little did I know at that time, this particular liquor is mainly intended to make mixed drinks, so the taste was quite revolting. Though I was repulsed by the taste, I was immediately enthralled with the feeling it gave me. I felt the thick, warm liquor coat my throat and coarse through each limb of my body. I felt exhilarated and anxious and sensational all at the same time. Looking back now, that very first sip of alcohol I ever took was a red flag that marked the beginning of a perilous addiction. When most kids drink for the first time it’s usually at party under the influence of their friends. But for me, it was at thirteen years old, alone, hidden in the pantry. 

And then came high school. During freshman year I had a decent group of friends, and by friends I mean drinking buddies. Each week we would look forward to whose house we were going to get hammered at that weekend, and to be honest that was all fun for a while. Then the blackouts started. I would drink myself into oblivion; I was completely out of control. Losing friends for making out with their boyfriend in a drunken stupor. Being banned from friend’s houses by their parents because I was so obviously wasted. Worrying my parents sick on countless occasions because they had no idea where I was--and quite frankly neither did I most of the time. I had no moral filter whatsoever. I couldn’t deal with the embarrassment of my abhorrent actions, and I certainly refused to face the consequences of them. I virtually became a social pariah to that particular group of friends.

And then came Danny Koteles. After I had become an outcast to a majority of the friends in my grade, I began hanging out with my lifelong neighbor Danny. We had known each other our entire lives but never really became acquainted until late sophomore year. And we instantly hit it off; we became bestfriends. Not only had I found a new group of friends, but an awesome new crowd to get wasted with all the time. After a few months of hanging out, Danny and I started dating. Everything was awesome at first, I had my best friend, my boyfriend, and my drinking buddy all as one person. But then the fighting started. All we did was fight, drunk or sober. It was an extremely destructive relationship, but it seemed that the more toxic it was, the harder it became to try and let go. I was far too attached and insecure to ever have the balls to end the relationship, but eventually one day in the summer of 2015, he finally called it quits. I was thrown into the deepest abyss of agony and distress that I was essentially dysfunctional. So what to do in attempt to overcome my first heartbreak? Go out to a party and get wasted, of course. So that night I went to a friend’s house, drank an entire fifth of Three Olives vodka, and completely blacked out. Only when my airbags were exploding in my face did I become slightly coherent. That began round one of probation. It also began my senior year of high school.

Among dealing with all of my legal repercussions, the universe decided to throw yet another grenade into my life--Danny already had a new girlfriend. I was still friends with some of his friends, and they told me that after spending Halloween weekend at Michigan State, he came back with a new girl on his hip. Fucking great. That completely broke me. Even just being aware of that information is heart-wrenching, but living four doors down from him and seeing her car parked in front of his house destroyed me. So one night, in the midst of one of my blackouts after getting wasted alone in my room (on a school night), I snuck out of my house, slashed the tires in his car, keyed it, and kicked a dent in hers. Even better, I didn’t recall doing any of this until detectives showed up at my school and pulled me into the principles office to interrogate me about it. Luckily, no charges were pressed but I still had to pay for the damages, and deal with the shame and embarrassment of it all. I became that crazy girlfriend that boys always bitch about. I hated myself. I hated who I had become. And since I kept blaming Danny and everyone else around me for it, things only got worse.

Being the ungrateful delinquent I am, I didn’t take the terms of my probation seriously whatsoever. I thought I could beat the system, and so I drank throughout the entire process. And got caught every time of course, but my ego kept telling me it was okay, not only because I’m a minor but also because I was such an excellent manipulator and so articulate and presentable; they can’t possibly throw me in jail. Eventually after countless probation violations, they judge discharged me as a violator and forced me to spend the rest of the day sitting in a holding cell beneath the courthouse. No big deal. 

The person I was then was so co-dependent and sickeningly insecure that I was sure the only way to finally get over Danny was to find a new boyfriend to distract from the heartache. So in the winter of 2016, I did. Parker Dyze. Parker was good to me, he really was, but rebound relationships never work. I don’t think I ever really had feelings for him, but rather liked the idea of making it known to Danny and the rest of the world that I have another boyfriend and that “I’m fine.” I made it pretty evident that I didn’t like Parker, and treated him pretty poorly. And then in a bizarre turn of events, he ended up becoming obsessively attached to me. My lack of attraction to him made this an extremely uncomfortable situation, but I had lost all of my friends, and was desperately afraid of being alone, so I couldn’t let Parker go. 

But then in the summer of 2016, Martin came into my life. Martin and I had worked together at a restaurant called Kruse and Muer for a little over two years, but never really talked much. When I first started working there in 2014 I always thought he was absolutely adorable, and my bestfriend Hope who worked there suggested that we go out. I honestly laughed. I had absolutely no chance with this gorgeous kid. But then one quiet afternoon, I was sitting at work when he walked in. Martin had just finished his freshman year at Grand Valley State University, and I have no idea what it was, but when I saw him something compelled me to go greet him with a huge hug. That sort of established our friendship, when we started talking and texting and hanging out. I had completely fallen for the kid. But meanwhile, I was still technically seeing Parker. When I realized how real my feelings for Martin were, I attempted to break things off with Parker. That did not go well. He did, what I liked to call, “pulling a me.” He began drinking violently and uncontrollably, and honestly put me in a few situations that made me feel extremely violated. And then it hit me: this is how I made Danny and his girlfriend feel, and now Parker is the one in my shoes. I was guilt-ridden, I was completely head-over-heels for Martin, and nothing else really mattered. We started dating, and then both left for college. I was at Michigan State and he was at Grand Valley. The distance was hard and I could scarcely cope. I was drinking nearly every day at Michigan State and it only made my addiction worse. 

Summer 2016 rolls around, and everything is great. Martin and I are both home from school for the summer, but there was one pretty huge problem: my addiction followed me home too. Martin is obviously no alcoholic or addict, so he never really understood my constant drive to want to get drunk. I wanted it all the time. When I woke up in the morning my first thought was how I could get through the day most efficiently so I could drink as soon as possible. This escalated into not caring what I had to get done that day, I could drink while doing it. I never lost a job throughout my alcoholism, but I definitely did a lot of quitting. Then in late July of 2016 came another run-in with the law. Martin and I got arrested in downtown Royal Oak for possession of marijuana. My sentencing date was on August 1, and I showed up still drunk from the night before. Obviously the judge caught wind of this, and furiously assigned me to a SoberLink (portable breathalyzer). I had a review hearing on the 17th, and in that short two weeks I drank heavier than I ever have before. This was obviously a severe violation of my probation, so the judge did something I never thought would happen--sent my white privileged ass to jail followed by a rehab center for thirty days. Sitting here today, typing this blog, I can honestly say I would sit in jail for a week all over again if it meant being able to go through treatment, because I would have NEVER done it on my own. The thought of having a drinking problem never even crossed my mind, because I wouldn’t allow it to. After I was discharged from rehab, I went back to see the judge and he already saw significant improvement in my health, spirit, and demeanor. I was assigned to wear an alcohol tether for two months. At the next review hearing, both my probation officer Judge Meinecke was overjoyed with the progress I’ve made and how seriously I’m taking my recovery program. And I am. My sobriety comes before anything else in my life. 

I’d be lying if I said I don’t have temptations, and yes I’m extremely nervous for when I don’t have legal restrictions completely preventing me from using alcohol, but I’ve mastered the concept of playing the tape through. Right now, the result of any consumption of alcohol is jail time, and that is NOT an option for me. My addict mind likes to entertain the thoughts of how I could potentially get away with drinking, but even without legal obligations, all I have to do is think about all of the blessings sobriety has me. Since I got sober, I look healthier, I feel better, I’m not an emotional wreck, I’m reasonable, I don’t self-harm, my skin is clear, my hair is growing, I’m able to sleep at night, I got a new job, I’m going to school, I’m productive, I have an amazing relationship with my family, Martin and I hardly fight, I can laugh and love and learn, and most importantly, I’m able to appreciate the endless beauty in this life. These are all things I could never do living under the influence of the bottle.