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deansapplepie · 3 months

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You couldn’t lose each other

Summary: You were pregnant, then you weren’t.

Warnings: ANGST, pregnancy, miscarriage, mention of character death, mention of “putting someone down”, soft Merle, on purpose asshole Daryl, blood, hurt, mental instability, hurt, stubborn main characters, loss, grief, and maybe more. 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

A/N: I never experienced miscarriage and am writing everything based on my knowledge through series, movies, soap operas and books, so it may have inaccuracies. If you are sensible to any of those topics please don’t read, your mental health is more important!

It had started about a week ago, heavy dizziness and morning sickness (which didn’t happen exactly only in the morning). On top of that your period was late, which you tried to atribute to the sub nutrition all of you went through while on the road, but as soon as other symptoms started… you knew it was probably other thing.

You went on a run with Daryl to get more baby formula for Jude and just discreetly added a pregnancy test on your backpack, in a part you hoped Daryl wouldn’t look because he never did. As soon as you got to the prison and had some alone time you risked yourself going somewhere, no one would see you or find you, to pee on the damn thing and find the truth. The truth was… you knew it, you didn’t need a test, you were undoubtedly and very much pregnant.

One end of afternoon, Merle sat by your side and didn’t bother to tip toe around you. “When are ya gonna tell ‘im?”

“What?” He took you back with his question.

“When are ya telling my brother ya’re with his baby?” Your eyes widened at his question. “Daryl ain’t the only one with observation skills. Who ya think taught him everything? I saw the symptoms and the pregnancy test you hid on your pocket the other day.”

“Fuck you Dixons.”

“Ya already do it to one of us.” He sassy replied, you rolled your eyes as usually happened during your banters.

“Soon. I’m just waiting the whole governor thing end. He already has too much to worry about, he’ll freak out if I tell him now. He’ll probably put me on bubble of safety and not let me do anything.” You stated, Daryl could have the rough exterior but both of you knew how he was, how he cared about people. Also he had changed so much the last months, and it was for the better. “Don’t tell him, let me do it.”

“Al’ight.” He surprised you, you had learned how to deal with Merle, but he wasn’t the same asshole as before. Still an asshole though. “It’ll be good have a mini Dixon around. I’ll help to keep ya’ll safe.”

“I know, you can be a jerk sometimes but I know you care about your family.” You gave the older Dixon a small smile and squeezed his hand to reassure him. That had been one of the nicest things he ever told you and coming from Merle, that was a lot.

The governor had asked for Michonne to leave your group alone, you didn’t believe a word of it it, but Merle did or at least he had to try. That morning he disappeared with her and all of you knew what he was up to. Daryl went after them, you wanted to go too but of course he wouldn’t “allow” you.

Some time after, Michonne arrived, alone. You asked about Merle and Daryl, and she told everything that happened with Merle. He had set her free and went by himself. It wouldn’t end up well, you could feel it in your guts, and your feeling just confirmed to be true when Daryl arrived alone.

Everyone gathered around him to know what happened and he told you with teary eyes. The others left to give both of you some time.

“Daryl, I’m sorry.” You said, both of your hands cupping his face, he averted your eyes. “Hey, look at me.”

“Leave me alone…” he grumply answered trying to get out of your grasp.

“We’re together in this, huh? I’m here for you, we both cared about Merle.” He snorted.

“Ya cared about Merle? Ya never liked him!”

That wasn’t true, he knew it wasn’t. He was hurt, he had to put his brother down, there wasn’t anyone else that could do it for him, even if there was… it had to be him. Somehow, in his abused mind, he thought it was all his fault. Merle died because he wanted to be a better person, he wanted to protect his little brother as much as he could in this fucked up world, and that was the way he found to do it. It was just a matter of time for you to do the same and it would be entirely his fault if you ended like Merle. You were the last thing he had from the old world. You were the only good thing he had, and if he had to push you away to keep you alive, that was what he was going to do, because he couldn’t afford living in a world without you.

“This isn’t true, Daryl. You’re hurting, I get it…” he cut your speaking before you could finish.

“Ya don’t. Ya never will!” He distanced himself when you tried to touch his arm. “We should break up.”

“What?!”

“Ya heard it.” He confirmed.

“Ok, when you’re not speaking no sense we can talk, I know you’re not ok, but there’s a limit of shit I can take.” You wouldn’t continue to insist on it if he was going to continue acting like that. You knew he was suffering, but so were you and he was being a prick.

“There ain’t gonna be another talk. I said what I said.” Those words left his mouth as if they were nothing, but each of them felt like a knife in his throat.

“Is it really the moment for you to dump me?” You knew he was emotionally unstable, no one make good decisions like this.

“Did I stutter?” The moment he threw the harsh words, he knew he had got what he wanted, the hurt in your eyes pained in his chest and this time he was sure he had lost you for good.

Since that day, you didn’t talk to him and he also ignored you. You asked Rick to not put you both working together anymore. You moved your things to Carol’s cell, now also your cell. Woodbury had fallen, now the survivors of the town had joined you at the prison.

Your little secret was still yours, or sort of… Carol was a mother. She went through all the shit you were going through, all of you saw Lori going through it. She knew it already, but didn’t tell you anything until one week after everything that happened.

She asked you, “aren’t you telling him?”

This time you didn’t even got surprised and already knew what she was talking about. “No.”

“And when it starts to show?”

“I’ll tell I just fucked someone and was too drunk to remember.” You stubbornly replied.

“You’re being childish, he deserves to know.” She was right, but you were tired and emotionally damaged already.

“ ‘cause he’s being a fucking kid too. I get it, he’s suffering, but he needs to stop hurting people every time he’s hurt. It’s time he grows up and man up.” You said arms crossed.

“You know his past better than I, I thought you from all the people would understand.” The older woman wisely said.

“Carol, I appreciate your concern, he’s your friend too, but you don’t understand.” You said, was it you? Was it the hormones? You couldn’t know. “Please, don’t tell him. It’s not your place to do it.”

“I won’t. You’re the one that should do it.” As soon as she answered, she left you alone.

One week later, or a little more, it seemed like Rick had forgotten his promise that he wouldn’t put you ti work with Daryl as he put both of you on fence duty to kill the walkers. Ok, there were more people with you, but you couldn’t help but feel yourself being watched and you knew the weight of his stare. You could feel it in your soul. Also, you couldn’t help yourself and from time to time look at him, because you would be a liar if you said you didn’t love him anymore or that you didn’t find him handsome and attractive, and what’s beautiful was made to look at.

It was middle of the morning, even though it was starting to get cold the sun was strong for whoever was working under it. You had sweat and few stains of blood from the walkers you had killed through the fence. You were feeling extra tired, you thought it was because pregnant women got more sleepy, so you didn’t think about it so much.

Some minutes after you felt a sharp pain on your lower stomach. Weird. ‘Please let it just be a stomachache or gases’, you thought.

You continued working then you felt the pain in the same place but sharper. ‘Please, don’t let it be anything with my baby’, you thought again.

You kept doing your job, this time more slowly as you felt the pain irradiating through your body, until you felt a stabbing pain in the same place and something hot going down your legs. You looked down and saw blood. “NO!”

You shouted and that called people’s attention Daryl’s specially. He looked at you and all he could see was blood. Did you hurt yourself with the weapon? Did the governor came back and wounded you? Did somehow a walker managed to bite you?

“Nooo-hooo-ooo.” You shouted cried throwing yourself to the ground.

In seconds he was kneeling by your side. “Hey, hey, look at me. What is it? What happened, doll?”

“I lost it.” You said, crying more at your realization. “I lost it.”

“What did ya lose, babe?” He asked, he thought you were delirious due to the blood loss. His hands around your face trying to make you look at him, trying to ground you. He was panicking, where were you hurt? Was he going to loose you anyway and he had spent the last weeks loosing his time with you?

You cried. “Our baby, I lost our baby.” You said between sobs.

It hit him like a punch on his stomach. You said your baby, a baby from both of you, a baby he didn’t know existed, a baby that… his abused mind played with him again. A baby that could be possibly gone because of him. “Stay with me, love. I’m taking care of you.” Who were you? Just you? You and the baby? Was there any chance this was a weird bleeding but the baby would still be ok? He didn’t know. He knew nothing about it.

He didn’t think twice, he took you in his arms and started running. “HERSHEL!” He yelled the doctor’s name again and again, until he found him and had you in the infirmary.

Before getting to the infirmary you had passed out, maybe it was the shock or it could also be the blood loss, you’d never know.

Hershel examined you. Daryl stayed all the time by your side, making questions to the doctor. Teary eyes while he explained everything. You were indeed pregnant, and yes, you had lost the baby. Daryl’s hopes were shattered at pieces, he cried. He the big rough man that didn’t like to show his emotions cried, it was Hershel. He was a friend. He was family after all.

After making sure nothing had stayed in your uterus, the old man had a talk with the younger one. Hershel made sure Daryl knew it wasn’t his fault, at this point he already knew the archer well and knew he was guilting himself for it. He ensured it was something that could happen at this early stage, you were at the maximum 2 months pregnant according to the tissue your body expelled from you. That small tissue was what would be your baby. The feeding poor in nutrients could have harmed your body, it was pretty much a disorder in your uterus so that happened. There was no one to blame, besides the end of the world.

Some time had passed when you woke up, you were as much as clean as they could got you and you had warm feeling on your right hand. You looked to your side and you saw Daryl worried and guilty eyes.

“It’s not your fault.” You said. You remembered everything.

“Maybe.” He said, even if Hershel had already reassured him. “But it doesn’t make it less worse. I could have lived it with ya for the little time we had.”

“I was the one that didn’t tell you.” You turned to your side and extended your left arm till you were touching his face. “I’m sorry.”

“I AM sorry.” He said giving emphasis to that. “I… I dun know what I was thinking.”

“I know.” You knew he was lost at that moment, but it didn’t hurt you less when he pushed you away and both of you needed each other. “Merle wasn’t your fault. The baby neither.”

At the mention of Merle’s name and the baby, your voice quivered and the tears threatened to leave your eyes, and they did. They fell from your eyes and you couldn’t do anything about it. “I ain’t pushing ya away anymore. I… I was so afraid of losing ya too.” Tears also slipped on his face.

“Merle was happy, he knew he was going to be an uncle.” You remembered the conversation you had with him the day before he sacrificed himself. “He noticed it and asked me about it. I was going to tell you when the governor shit was over.”

You also felt guilty about Merle’s death. You knew sometimes he didn’t take some smart decisions, but did he tried to face it all alone because he also wanted to be a better person to his nephew or niece? He had told you he would protect all of you.

You sobbed. You both cried together, now your arms thrown around his neck and your face hiding in it. You both had lost too much already, you couldn’t afford losing anything else. You couldn’t lose each other.

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zyonsay · 4 months

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Een Nacht JOOST KLEIN

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: An unplanned encounter led to a fun adventure.

Reader: Male, Tattoed

Warnings: NSFW, Unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol, cigarettes

Now playing: 'One of the girls' by The Weeknd, Lily-Rose Depp & JENNIE from BLACKPINK

AN: Hello everyone <3 i've been gone for a while and i still dont have much time to write, but i got overcome by my joost klein obsession.. again. I hope y'all enjoy this. I expected to write like 2k words, it ended up being 4,5k. Take care!

#Justice for Joost

...7 Missed Calls from ‘Millie’

Your best friend and roommate had left you hanging for a one-night stand, to put it shortly.

Tonight was Joost Klein’s concert in your area and you had bought these tickets ages ago. Both you and your roomie were huge fans of his music and planned on having the most amazing time ever. That was until she texted you, a few minutes after the time you had planned to meet at.

‘Hey dude, im soooo sorry, but I just met this really amazing dude at the library and I really wanna take him home ymwim?? I hope you still have an amazing time, byeeee!’

Saying you were angry was a brutal understatement. Absolutely fuming fit better. But nevertheless, you had so much fun at the concert. You didn’t need Millie to have a good time, you hope he at least fucked her well if she’s going to miss a Joost Klein concert for that. But this isn’t about Millie, this is about you jumping around all night and screaming your heart out.

All good things must come to an end and so did the concert. Joost thanked the crowd dearly and seemed really happy with the performance. Now that you had gathered your stuff, you pulled out your phone and prepared to walk to the bus station. Should be a 23-minute walk. An interesting insta reel popped up on your phone, your eyes were practically glued to the screen. That was until you inelegantly collided with someone. “Oh, I’m sorry!” You had your phone in a death grip, it had almost dropped to the floor. “My bad, I didn’t look where I was going!” Then you were greeted with the sight of a messy bleach blonde head of hair and two bright, blue eyes. This was Joost Klein himself. +A shy smile crept onto your face; you didn’t know what else to say. “Yeah, I’d be shocked too if I was standing in front of a celebrity.”, his attitude seemed cocky, but in a playful way. He was beaming, his grin as bright as the moon. Without thinking much, you opened your mouth to speak: “haha, exactly.” The sarcasm was dripping from your voice. “You seem happy, the concert went really well.”, you offered him a genuine smile. “Yes! I loved the crowd.”, his eyes lit up, “the numbers could be better though, at least my manager says so. But that’s just how the art industry is.” He kept rambling to you like he already knew you for ages. “Sorry, you probably don’t care. Oh yeah, and I forgot to ask for your name.” Joost lazily smiled at you. “I’m Y/n. I totally get that thing about the numbers. It’s difficult when you’re doing art as a job.” His gaze softened slightly. “It’s hard bringing in new fans when there are new artists every day. There’s always a younger, more talented artist out there.” His smile turned into a rather sad one, maybe he wasn’t so happy after all? “But I think you got something special going. Something different than those soundcloud rappers, you know?”, you chuckled lightly, “I think your music is true art.” For a moment he seemed to taste your words on his tongue. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a while. “You seem like you do art too?”, Joost raised an eyebrow in genuine curiosity. “Yeah, I’m not that relevant though.” An awkward feeling crept over you; you scratched the back of your neck. “Ah, I don’t wanna hear it.” He barely let you finish your sentence. “I bet your really talented. I mean just your vibe right now!” Joost was now standing pretty close to you. He tended to close the distance between him and the person he’s talking to. Personal space is not in his vocabulary.

A quick glance to your phone screen revealed that your bus was about to leave in three minutes. Doesn’t matter, you’re striking up a good conversation with one of your favorite singers right now. “That’s so nice of you. People rumor that you’re kinda rude, but I haven’t seen any of that yet.” The left corner of his lips curled up, that was probably not the first time he heard about that rumor. “That’s because a lot of people who meet me say the dumbest things I’ve ever heard and then get mad when I don’t answer nicely.” He then intently looked at your eyes. “But you haven’t said anything bad yet.” Now he was smiling brightly again. “Hmm, so I gotta try harder to get on your bad side huh?”, he chuckled heartily. “You’re chill. I like you, I don’t get that with most people I meet.” He for sure is a big personality. “Oh my god, you should totally get your nose pierced. Would suit your look!” Admittedly, you have been thinking about getting a septum for a while now. But until shortly ago, you were working an excruciating office job, where piercings, colorful hair, gel nails and tattoos were strictly forbidden. That didn’t stop you from getting inked though. You waited to do your arms until you quit your job, but otherwise your whole body was littered with small and relatively big tattoos.

“I already got a few tattoos though; I worked an office job until recently. Getting a new piercing would’ve been difficult to hide.” Joost curiously eyed you, in search of any tattoos that might be exposed at the moment. “What kind of tattoos do you have then?”, he caught a glimpse of some ink under your shirt. “Loads actually. But my first one was a moth under my chest, I really like that one.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Yeah? Let me see.” You could see right through him but decided to entertain his idea for a minute. Pulling down the hem of your loose button up, whose top few buttons were undone, you revealed a small part of the moth’s wings and head. With a gentle grin you declared that he would have to pay to see more. His smile now turned into a light smirk. “How much would I need to pay to see the rest?” Quickly, you quipped back: “How much does a drink in this town cost?” He now inches slightly away from you, he was all up in your space until now. “A drink, huh?”, he mused, “I’ll buy you the whole damn bottle.”

Joost guided you to one of his favorite bars in the area. His hand was on the small of your back when you two enterer the establishment, which seemed slightly out-of-place for a first meeting. “You know, I’ve never paid so much to see a tattoo before.” He teased while he ordered a bottle of vodka and two glasses. You really hope he wasn’t a creep, cuz this seemed like a red flag. “I must be pretty special then”, you grinned while ogling the clear liquid. The blond was now swirling the vodka in his glass. He chuckled, “Yeah I’d say you’re pretty special.” Then he avoided your gaze. He was wondering how the rest of that tattoo looked like. And maybe it wasn’t the only thing he’d get to see tonight.

The swig you took from your glass made you grimace. Vodka was one of your top alcohols, but you had to be honest with yourself and admit it tastes like hand sanitizer. “Don’t tell me it’s too strong for you.”, he teasingly smiled at you. His blue eyes darted towards your hand, which was resting atop the wooden bar. In a smooth motion, he interlinked his pinky with yours. ‘Drink je moed met alcohol’ or whatever the saying is. Nevertheless, Joost felt more forward now. Maybe it was the vodka, maybe it was the way your eyes sparkled. But the alcohol for sure gave him an extra bravado. He carefully inched closer to you. You could tell he was getting a bit woozy, even if he was lazily smiling at you. “You ok?”, a small chuckle escaped you. He intertwined his hand fully with yours now. The look in his face was soft and affectionate. A bit wobbly, but very sweet. You got a bit closer; the tips of your noses were almost touching. Only a few centimeters apart. Joost kept his eyes fixated on you, his breath hitched. His ice blue eyes seemed to roam you whole face. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest, the proximity was intoxicating to him. Joost’s eyes fluttered shut and you waited for a few seconds, messing with the dutchman in front of you. His eyes opened again and saw you grinning teasingly at him. “Really? We’re doing this now?” A hint of disappointment flashed across his face for a split second, but soon after mischievousness played in his eyes.

The two of you seemed to be getting along well, chatting and laughing with each other which felt like hours on end. Your knee was now touching Joosts and his hand has landed on your thigh. He slightly squeezed it, trying to give you a signal of what he wanted. “What?”, you grinned knowingly. The blond playfully huffed but the smile on his face remained. “You know what.” He tried to play it cool, but the intent look in your dark eyes made his adrenaline levels shoot through the roof. Sneakily, you slid a hand behind Joost’s neck. “I’m usually not into blondes.” With that you caught his lips in a sweet, gentle kiss. The man practically melted into your touch, he held onto your shoulder as if he’d fall off the barstool if he didn’t. Maybe it was the alcohol or the massive interest he had for you, but Joost was kissing you fervently. A desperate noise escaped him. One of your hands rested on his chest, you could feel his heart beating rapidly. As you parted lips, Joost tried to calm his erratic heart. Suddenly feeling a bit shy, you hid your face in the crook of his neck. His cologne smelled amazing, even after messing around on stage the whole evening. The huffs of your hot breath sent shivers down his spine. He gently kissed your neck, you gasped and flushed ever so slightly. The bastard even slid a hand under your shirt, feeling your lower back. You let the hand on his chest wander a bit, earning a content gasp. “I’m loving this, but can we go somewhere more… private?” Joost let out a small laugh. “Yeah of course! My place or yours?”, he grinned at you. “My roommate is probably getting laid right now, so could we go to your place?”, he nodded with a sweet, drunken smile. “I’d love to take you to mine. It’s just a few minutes away from here actually.”

Either he was very bad at math, drunk or both at the same time. The apartment building was at least a 18-minute walk outside the city center. The breeze messing with your hair was fresh, a shiver ran down your spine. Joost risked a glance over at you from time to time, his stomach was churning with an excited flutter. Even though your gaze was directed straight ahead, you noticed the blond eyeing you. The faintest shade of rose feathered your cheeks, you bit the inside of your lip from nervousness. That didn’t go unnoticed, as Joost laughed brightly while pulling you into a side hug, still keeping up the pace. “You’re so flustered.”, he chuckled. Playfully, you slapped his arm. “Quit it.”, his smile widened and for a moment it seemed as if the sun was shining. “Try and make me.”, now his expression turned devious. “I’ll make you regret being this cocky.”, a pleased smile spread across your face. He wanted to provoke you a tiny bit more. “I’d love to see you try.” He brought you both to a halt in front of a building and opened the door. Joost looked at you and brought a hand to the small of your back. “Let’s get inside.” He intertwined his fingers with yours and pulled you up the staircase to the door of his apartment. His hands were slightly shaky from anticipation and the keys in his hand rattled and clinked.

After a few seconds he had finally unlocked the door and led you in, he didn’t bother to flick the light on. You turned around, faced with Joost’s back, a click indicated that he had closed the door. You slide your arms around his torso and press up against him. His breath hitched as you began trailing sweet kisses down his jaw and neck. Joost, now reddened and smiling lazily, turned around and slid his hands down to hold your hips. His scent was fogging up your mind, and you couldn’t help but be excited. Once again, you pecked his neck, occasionally nipping at the skin. To give you more room, he tilted his head ever so slightly. A content huff escaped him as you bit down harder, now having found his sweet spot. “Not so cocky now, huh?”, you chuckled before continuing your shenanigans. Joost let his head rest against the wall behind him and let out a small needy sound. He placed a hand on your shoulder, to steady himself. His breath was rugged, and his skin felt as if it was on fire. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.”, he whispered before letting his head fall forward, resting it on your shoulder. When releasing your hold on him, you were greeted by two dilated eyes. “Let me be good to you.”, his voice was breathy, and his hair was messed up. “Let me take charge for a bit.”, he pressed the sweetest kiss to your lips. You quietly hummed as he began nipping at your neck, but before you could enjoy it more, he gently pulled you towards, presumably, his bedroom.

He gently pushed you onto his bed, you gladly let yourself fall backwards. “There we go.”, he murmured as he glanced down at you, splayed out. A possessive glint played in his eyes. With a tilt of your head, you invited him. You wouldn��t have to ask him twice, he quickly got on the bed with you. In a swift motion, he straddled you and placed his hand on your chest. You slide your hands up his legs and let them rest on his hips. Joost softly moans into the sweet kiss he embraced you in. He enjoys the heat and friction from his body being pressed down on top of you. His lips taste like cherry bubblegum from the local kiosk, you deepen the kiss as the blond grasps your shoulders. Carefully, you broke the kiss and tugged on his shirt. “Get rid of that. “, you groaned at the hot feeling spreading over your skin. His gaze darkened at the command, and he slowly leaned back. He lifted the hem of his shirt and slowly pulled it over his head, then tossed it away. A cheeky grin was now plastered onto his face, you slid your hands up his body, feeling his abs. “Thank you.”, he laid his hand atop yours, which was still resting on his body. “But you’re pretty hot too.” Now his hands slid under your shirt. “How about you take yours off as well? I need to see more of you.”, a small hum erupted from your throat, and you began peeling your shirt off. “You really wanna see that tattoo, huh?”, he nodded with a small smile. The fabric hiding the big moth was now gone and revealed its true beauty. It was a deaths-head hawkmoth, its wings were detailed and shaded amazingly, he could tell that your tattoo artist was a master of his craft. Joost’s eyes widened for a split second as soon as he saw how many tattoos were littered over your torso. He didn’t expect that many, but oh god they looked good on you. “You have no idea how good you look with all this ink.”, he ran a hand down your arm, feeling its muscles and gently rubbing the skin. “Really?”, you tried smiling innocently, but it came out looking more like a cheeky grin. “Makes me want you so bad.” His voice was barely above a whisper, the weak light of the moon made his blond hair look silvery. You delicately whispered back. “You can have me.”

Now he felt the heat rise inside him. His lips ghosted over yours, meanwhile he was fiddling with the stall of your pants. With a sense of confidence, he bit your lower lip, not enough to hurt you, but enough to show you that he was in charge now.

Once again, he nipped at your neck, but traveled down to your collarbone, your chest, your stomach and finally to the hem of your pants. Your head was tipped back in pleasure and the occasional groan left you. What you couldn’t see was him smiling up at you, enjoying the view. The soft moonlight painted milky stripes along your muscles. Joost planted a kiss on your hip before leaving bites around the waistband of your pants. He had already opened the button and zipper of your garment and now he pulled them off, tossing them aside. With the gentlest hands he caressed your thigh. A gaze to your thigh revealed even more tattoos, an elegant snake was swirled around your leg, entangled with the leaves of an olive tree. The dutch grinned slightly, then began leaving kisses and sweet bites over your thighs, he was burning up now. His hand slid upward on your thigh, though this time he was messing with the fabric of your briefs. He only chuckled lightly, before biting down harder. A soft whine escaped you, while he slowly pulled your boxers off. Then he sat back, waiting for a reaction. “Don’t tease, I’ll make you regret it.”, your threat sounded more playful than anything. He offered you a small, challenging grin as his fingers slid back up to your hips, where he let them rest. “Yeah exactly, what are you gonna do?” You groaned. “Keep going if you wanna find out.”

He leaned down and trailed kisses over your inner thigh, his hands roamed over your body, slowly making their way towards your crotch. Brushing over the tip of your length, he hummed in contentment. Your eyes fluttered shut, you couldn’t help but twitch at the contact. He rubbed his thumb over the slit, licked his lips, then wrapped his fingers around your length. His soft hands felt like heaven to you, his motions steady and gentle. Occasionally +he teased your tip with his thumb, enjoying your expressions. “Bet you rail some guy after all your concerts.”, a teasing smile appeared on your lips. “You’d be correct to think so, yeah.”, he hummed with a sly grin. He stroked you at a slow but firm pace. “Are you trying to rile me up with that?”, he then mused a chuckle. Despite your currently… pathetic state, you mustered to spit out: “I’d never. Just making sure you’ll remember me very time from now on.” He sped up a little. “Oh trust me, I’ won’t be forgetting you anytime soon.” Leaning in, he took the tip into his mouth. “Fu-uck”, you stammered. The warm, wet feeling of his mouth could’ve made you cum right then and there. One of your hands reached down to entangle itself into Joost’s blond strands. The mans breath hitched as he felt your hand in his hair, it sent tingles down his spine. He swirled his tongue around your tip, sucking gently while looking up at you. His hands held your hips firmly in place. “Didn’t know your mouth was good at anything other than singing.” Joost’s eyes crinkled at your comment. With a quiet ‘plop’ sound, he released your member. “I can promise you, it’s good at other things.” He muttered before tending to your length again, this time maintaining eye contact with you. The sight alone almost tipped you over the edge, his icy blue eyes were glossy, and his blond lashes framed them perfectly. Joost’s eyes flickered down, he noticed how you started to twitch lightly. He took you in deeper, focusing on the sensation in his mouth. The way his tongue swirled on the underside of your shaft made your vision go blurry, you felt a feeling tightening and coiling in your stomach. “I’m so close.”, you whispered desperately. Little did you know that he had other plans. Once again, he removed himself from your pulsing member, a string of saliva connecting to his lip. You ran a hand trough your hair, while your chest was sinking and rising with heavy breaths. Joost backed up slightly, removing any remaining clothes, then focusing on your figure again. He gently straddled you, his own length rubbing against yours, not without a sharp hiss from you though. “Hop on, let me treat you right.”, your muscles tensed from anticipation. A low groan escaped the blond, he nodded quickly before sitting up. With utmost care, he positioned himself and slowly sat down as he felt you push inside of him. He gasped at the overwhelming feeling, and you rested your head against the pillows, it was too much and not enough at the same time. Gently, he started slowly rocking his hips against yours, he bit down on your shoulder to muffle his soft moans. Feeling a bit revengeful, you bucked upwards, earning a loud gasp from the other man. A loud moan escaped him, and his body shuddered and tingled, he slightly sped up his rocking. Your warm hands trailed up to his hips, helping him steady his movement. Empty threats were never something you made, so you decided to go all out. In a swift motion you had basically thrown Joost off and positioned yourself over him, prodding at his entrance with your dick. He groaned and gasped at the sudden manhandling; a shiver of excitement ran down his spine. “That’s for teasing me.” He wrapped his legs around your waist, while letting out a breathless moan. Without much care, you pushed into him, setting a relatively fast pace. The dutch groaned at the rough treatment and you felt him dig his nails into your back and leave long scratches along it. “You’re so g-ood.”, his voice broke slightly, he was panting heavily. “I said I’d make you remember me.” Even in this pathetic state, he chuckled.

With his arms slung around your shoulder, he cried out in pleasure, small pearly tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Fuck. I will.”, his eyes were glossy. Once again, he bit down on your neck, leaving yet another dark hickey. Bitten off moans slipped out of him; he was pretty sure both of your hips would be bruised after this night. The room was filled with breathy moans and gasps, along with the constant sound of skin slapping against skin. Joost was completely lost in the moment, he loved how you took control. “See who’s not being so cocky anymore?”, you teased. “Shush.” His head lolled back in pleasure. You snuck a hand around his throat, threatingly gripping it with very little pressure. “You’re not the one giving orders.” A shiver of excitement ran trough Joost’s veins, he ever so slightly arched his back, pressing his body closer to yours. “Now shut up and take it.”, your hips snapped against Joost’s, and his groans became even weaker. The pleasure was building up in his stomach, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could handle it. His vision went blurry, and his body tensed up, his nails dug deep into your skin, leaving bloody scratched all over your back. “Fuuuuuuck”, he moaned against your collarbone. Warm, milky white cum shot out of his length, all over his stomach and chest, you yourself quickly pulled out and dropped the load on top of his. “Messy Boy.”, you whispered.

He laid there for a few minutes, panting heavily and feeling utterly spent. You grabbed a random t shirt on the bed and wiped him clean. With a good wash it’ll be as good as new, you thought. Gentle to not disturb him too much, you laid on top of him, resting your head against his chest. He let out a small huff, then wrapped his arms around you. “I’m going to feel this all day tomorrow…”, he mumbled. “Then I did it right.”, you closed your eyes, enjoying his warm breath trickling down your face and neck. Joost hadn’t seen the tattoo on your back before but was admiring it now. It was another snake, wrapping around a big dagger with various decorations on it. He ran a hand over it, feeling the skin he had scratched open around it. “So, you like it een beetje ruw?”, he whispered. “Ja but I can be sweet too.” Joost chuckled. You looked up again, enveloping him in a genuine, gentle kiss. Brushing a stray hair away, you caressed his cheek. The blond hummed lightly, his heart fluttering at the tender kiss. His lips curled up into a sweet smile. “Just for some people though.”, you grinned cheekily.

After having thrown on your briefs, you had retrieved your pants and began rummaging the pockets. “Can we go out to the balcony? I’d like to have a smoke.” Joost raised an eyebrow while his smile revealed his dimples. “Cigs after a good lay, huh?”, he began to fumble around in his bedside drawer, trying to find his own pack. “They’re on me, owe you after that.”, you giggled. Joost opened the slide door and led you outside. The atmosphere was calm, the two of you sat down on the floor. You held out your pack to the man, before taking a cigarette for yourself. He put it between his lips, waiting for you to light it. His eyes watched your face closely. After having his cigarette lit, Joost leaned against the balcony railing, enjoying the fresh breeze. You looked over the city while the smoke mingled as they both exhaled. Joost reached out and tangled his hand with yours. “You’re so pretty.”, you mumbled absently, watching a few blonde hairs follow the flow of the wind, his hair was all messed up, but he looked perfect. The tips of his hair looked almost white in the moonlight. “I’m usually not into blondes.”, you ruffled up his hair. “Hey!”, he cried out, but he quickly reached for your hair in an attempt at revenge. You gladly lowered your head, letting him do whatever he wants. Instead of messing up your whole hair, like you though he would, he gently combed trough it with his fingers. It felt soothing, you leaned into his touch and ended up flopping your upper body down into his lap. He couldn’t help but chuckle, “Comfy?”

A pleased hum escaped you, moments like these should last forever.

#justice for joost #welcome to zyons rubber room #male reader #reader insert #joost klein x reader #joost klein #joost #joost x reader #joost klein x male reader #x male reader #male reader insert #male!reader #male x male #gay

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callsign-rogueone · 2 months

Text

change of plans

Liam Mairi x reader words: 1.6k 🏷: no book spoilers. she/her reader who Imogen calls a "girl" once. technical part three to the spider and one too many, but can be read as a standalone. these two are getting closer to getting together... I'm on hour 22 of this headache, and it made me think... ✨ riders getting migraines from using their signets too much ✨ and our sweet boy just needs to be taken care and cuddled of for once.

“Good morning, soft one.”

You groan, turning over and burying your face in your pillow. “Too early. Come back in an hour.”

She makes a sound like a laugh. “I thought you wouldn’t want to miss breakfast.”

You blink through the sleepiness, realizing how hungry you are. Did you eat dinner last night? How did you get back from the tavern? Maybe that whole thing was just one of those weird dreams you have when you’re a little too tired — you’re still recovering from that terrible virus that had swept through the quadrant earlier this month. But you must have been completely exhausted if you fell asleep still in your daytime clothes. You’re incredibly picky about that — you don’t even like to sit on your bed in anything you’ve worn outside your room.

And why does it smell like… man in here? Oh, gods…

“Yes, this is your own bed,” she says before you can ask. “And no, you didn’t sleep with anyone. Deigh’s boy walked you back here and made sure you were safe. We are in his debt.”

Deigh’s boy… oh, gods, she means Liam.

You still can’t believe that you fell asleep in your flight jacket. How drunk were you? You yawn into a too-long sleeve, pulling it back and inspecting it. Well, that’s definitely the source of the cologne smell. Oh, shit. Is this Liam‘s jacket?

“Indeed it is. I suggest you freshen up before returning it to him.”

You flop down against the pillow again, groaning.

“I’ve had enough riders to know that you need hot food after a night like that. And coffee. Up you get.”

She’s right. You scrape yourself out of bed, going through the motions of a shower and heading down to the cafeteria for breakfast, Liam’s jacket draped over your arm in case you run into him there. Hot food does indeed make you feel better, but you don’t see him there, nor any of his usual companions.

You’ll try the gym, maybe. A guy as muscled as him has to be spending his weekend mornings training, too.

You spot Imogen first, taking a breath before you approach her — she’s intimidating as hell. The twin daggers in her hands don’t help.

“Hi. Uh, is Liam around?”

You regret the question instantly as she looks you up and down shamelessly, unamused. You shouldn’t have assumed she’d know where he was — yeah, they’re friends, but not all Tyrrish move in packs. They aren’t really allowed to, outside of the common areas, anyway.

You’ve always thought that was a bullshit rule.

She finishes inspecting you, turning her head and yelling for him. “Liam! There’s a pretty girl here to see you!”

You burn with embarrassment, thankful that the gym isn’t too crowded. At least it’s a reassurance that you’ve cleaned up well enough if she called you pretty. That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever heard her say.

Liam appears in a split second, out of breath and a little sweaty as he smiles at you. “Hey! I’m glad you’re okay.”

Imogen leaves before you can thank her, clearly not deeming this conversation worth her time.

“I wanted to return this,” you begin carefully, “and to thank you for getting me back to my room in one piece, and to apologize for whatever dumb stuff I probably said last night when I was super out of it. I swear that’s never happened before, and I won’t let it happen again.”

“Nothing too dumb,” he says, but there’s a twinkle in his eye that tells you otherwise. “And it’s not a problem at all. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You said that already, Deigh reminds him dryly.

There’s an awkward pause. You rock back and forth on your heels, Liam rubbing the back of his neck — both wondering who should speak next, and what to say.

He tries something first. “Do you want to study with me for the physics test tomorrow night?”

You weren’t expecting that.

“Sure,” you squeak. “Meet you after dinner?”

“Sounds good,” he manages, looking like he wasn’t expecting you to say yes.

As if you’d ever decline an invitation to do anything with Liam Mairi.

You offer him another smile. “Thank you again, really. I’ll get out of your hair now — your friend is waiting,” you excuse, nodding toward Garrick, who stands twenty feet away, looking impatient. He gives you a slick grin from his corner of the room, raising his eyebrows once.

Maybe his reputation for being a shameless flirt is true.

Liam manages a goodbye, and waits until you’re out of sight to take a whiff of the jacket — it smells like your perfume.

“You’re down so fucking bad, dude,” Garrick laughs, clapping a hand onto the younger boy’s shoulder. “She’s cute, though. Let me know if it doesn’t work out.”

Liam turns to glare at him.

“I’m kidding,” he says with a grin. “Not about her being cute — she’s a total catch — but I wouldn’t do that to you. Bro code and shit, y’know.”

Liam still looks unamused.

“You should see the look on your face. You wanna hit me soooo bad. Are we gonna fight, or are you saving your energy for later?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

The jacket is dropped rather unceremoniously as Liam lunges forward, intent on tackling Garrick to the ground — easier said than done.

“Attaboy,” Garrick laughs, pushing back. “Knew that would get you to stop mooning over her and get back to work.”

Liam blinks, realizing that his friend was just messing with him. His moment of hesitation earns him a swift blow to the stomach, winding him. He doubles over, wheezing. “Fuck, Gare! What was that for?”

Xaden laughs from the sidelines. “It was a clean hit. Be glad he chose not to go for the head — don’t want to bust up that cute little nose before your date.”

Liam groans. “Not you, too.”

“Li’s going on a date? Our baby is all grown up,” Bodhi coos, reaching up to pinch his cheek, but his hand is quickly swatted away.

“Guys, seriously. We’re just studying.”

“That’s what they all say,” Garrick teases. “But physics can turn into anatomy very quickly if you do it right.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Imogen asks.

“Sounds like someone’s jealous that I have more game than they do.”

The two of them continue their bickering, showing no signs of stopping any time soon, but Bodhi tries to make peace anyway.

“Hey,” Xaden says, touching his brother’s shoulder gently. “She seems nice. I’m happy for you.”

“She’s great. She… she sees past this, y’know,” he says quietly, looking down at his arm. “Most people don’t.”

“Yeah.” Another small silence. “Wanna fight?”

—————————————————————

You know something is wrong as soon as Liam walks in your door — his usual relaxed and cheery demeanor is gone. His bookbag is dragging him down like an anchor, his shoulders slumped. His eyes squeeze shut for a second as he adjusts to the bright mage light of your room, brighter than the dark hallways.

He visibly relaxes when you wave a hand to dim it; further evidence of your suspicion.

“Migraine?” you ask softly.

“Migraine,” he confirms, sounding utterly exhausted and a little embarrassed. “I always get them after Carr’s class. Hurts my eyes to use it too much.”

Poor thing.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles. “Know we were supposed to study tonight, but I feel like shit and I probably wouldn’t be good company. Can’t even think right now.”

“You are always excellent company,” you say gently. “But if you just want to lay down for a while, that’s fine. I feel pretty good about the test, anyway.”

He gives you a few slow blinks in response, like he’s wondering if you mean for him to leave and go lay down in his own room, or…

“C’mere,” you offer, patting your leg and scooting down a little to get more comfortable.

He kicks off his boots, shrugs off his jacket, and climbs up with you without hesitation, resting his head on your stomach and wrapping his arms around your hips with a cute, sleepy sigh, tucking in his legs so that they don’t hang off the bed.

You bring a hand up to stroke his hair, combing your fingers through the soft blonde strands.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. “Feels nice.”

“Did you take medicine? Drink some water?”

He makes a lazy sound of affirmation, muffled by your shirt.

“I’m assuming that’s a yes. I don’t speak mumble,” you tease quietly.

He nods his head yes against your stomach, cuddling into you further with a soft hum.

“Alright, sweet boy. Get some sleep if you can, hm?”

Your hand stills, and he whines softly, complaining that you’d stopped. You shake your head in amusement, starting up again. “Sorry, baby.”

Baby indeed — it must hurt pretty badly for the Liam you know, who’s big and tall and tough, ranked first overall in Emeterrio’s challenges, to be this soft and small, letting someone take care of him. Letting you take care of him.

You feel a little swell of pride that he’s okay being vulnerable with you — you suppose it’s warranted after he’d walked your very inebriated self back home from the tavern two days ago. You can trade embarrassments.

Still, you wish he didn’t have to be in pain to come to you like this, to curl up with you like a fully-grown hound who thinks he’s still a lapdog. It’s adorable.

You stay like this until the sun goes down, petting the soft blonde strands and lightly massaging the base of his neck to relieve the tension, even after he’s sound asleep. When your hand slips from his hair again, it’s because you’ve fallen asleep yourself, comforted by the weight of his body against yours and the slow, deep rhythm of his breathing.

#liam mairi #liam mairi x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #mine #liam mairi x you #Liam and soft one

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

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WIBTA if I played a matchmaker for my best friend & her crush?

So, background. I (M28) have a best friend, Kate (F24). We have great friendship going on, and we have never considered going romantic/sexual; we're not each other's type and we're both 100% content with being friends. The thing is, Kate has had extreme bad luck with men. She's rather attractive and popular with men, which led to some atrocious experiences with various garbage men, mostly prior to our meeting. She actually said I helped her realize her self-worth and made her less prone to diving headfirst into toxic flings, which is honestly one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. Then, Kate started chatting with Frank (M, probably mid-20s). All three of us are members of a Star Wars discussion group, since we're all fans (and Star Wars is basically what brought me and Kate together). Frank is genuinely nice, intelligent, mature, well-read and overall a great guy. We've had a few run-ins, so he knows that I exist, but I can't really say we're friends, although we probably would if we interacted more. Since then, Kate has been regularly gushing about how great Frank is and how he's the only man she could imagine having a genuine, long-term relationship with - and honestly, I'd be happy as hell if she finally settled with someone more mellow and mature. The problem is that Frank is passive as hell and probably wouldn't realize a girl is into him even if she wrote it on a banner and hung it in front of his house. And Kate isn't willing to make a move because she's full of doubts, especially if all her past disastrous flings make her unable to be genuinely in love with someone - she's also on the aromantic spectrum, which makes the whole thing even more complicated. So they're basically tiptoeing around each other all the time with neither one willing to make a move. Now here's my dilemma. I often have the urge to just text Frank privately, tell him that Kate would be willing to "risk" a relationship with him, perhaps send some screenshots of all the nice things she has said about him, just to finally motivate him to initiate something and break that stalemate between them. I've jokingly suggested this to Kate, and she strictly forbade me from doing that. Despite that, I want to do it, because I genuinely believe those two would be happy together and that Frank would be able to calm Kate's temper and change her life for the better, after all those horrible experiences. On the other hand, I'm aware I'd be acting behind her back and possibly betray her trust if I intervened, although I'm pretty sure I could keep it a secret between Frank and I.

TL;DR: My best friend Kate has a lot of bad experiences with garbage men. Recently, she fell in love with a smart, mature guy Frank who would be a great match for her, but neither of them is willing to make a move to initiate something. I've been considering to text Frank privately and tell him how Kate feels about him, but I'm afraid that acting behind Kate's back like this is a crappy thing to do.

WIBTA if I texted Frank and hopefully got things into motion?

#aita #am i the asshole

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kairismess · 8 months

Text

you're good enough.

🌻 characters: atsumu miya and tooru oikawa 🍰 genre: slight angst, but also fluff ! ✒️ word count: 745 💭 summary: he's been wanting to meet your family for a while now, but you've always put it off because you fear your mother'll say something unpleasant to your, and his face this time, again. he knows just how much you fear your mother, and instead of letting her degrading and humiliating words get to you... he showers you with all the love he can give and knows you deserve. 🍥 author's note: hey anon !! hoping this is how you wanted the fic :DD i'm sorry if it wasn't that focused on the angsty parts, i really hope this provided you comfort somehow, and to all those who struggle with parental issues like me, you're completely valid; who other people claim you are is not who you totally are and will be as a person. stay strong loves, and enjoy 💗

sensing the fear in your your voice and watching your eyes darken, he knows something unpleasant came from his words, or at least, the idea and intent behind them. the one thing he never wants to do is hurt you, or in this case, to make you feel helpless and scared. "hey... what's wrong? are you okay, dear?" he asks you, brushing away a stray lock of your hair and gently cupping your face with his larger, calloused yet gentle, palms. your cheeks felt cold against his warm hands, probably because of how anxious and intimidating the thought of him meeting your mother was to you.

nothing good ever came of you bringing close friends or people you fancied home to meet your mother, even if the rest of your family were okay with them, it was your mother specifically that always had a problem with every person you brought to your home; and in a way... with just, you. you never could figure out why your mother was so hard on you often times, she'd make little comments about you that'd sting, be direct about whether or not she liked something you were passionate about, and... would often pressure you, but would always tell you, "it's for your own good."

you didn't know anymore what 'your own good' was, and it made you feel angry about yourself, but you never thought of yourself usually, unless it came to him. he seemed so perfect, so charming, so put together and talented; everything your mother made you feel like you weren't.

you nodded your head hastily, forcing the corners of your lips to curl up into a smile. "...you sure?" he asks you, doubting the credibility of your smile. he's seen you smile many times, but only on a handful of occasions has he ever seen you give him a real smile. he notices the brightness of your smile was barely even there, the way your eyes crinkled up and how your cheeks raised didn't feel natural; he was very keen about the details of your face like that.

your smile soon faltered, and he immediately flashed you a gentle smile of his own, his face softening as his hands dropped down to clasp your hands in his own. "is it about me wanting to meet your mom?" you nod at his question after nearly a minute of silence. he nods in return, there must've been something that made you uncomfortable about that notion.

"well... i know your mom isn't... the nicest, nor the most supportive person in your life, but... if you don't feel brave enough, it's okay. we don't need to go," he reassures you, squeezing your hand in his. "but don't feel like you're an idiot for rejecting the idea, you aren't stupid, not like she says... you're a very understanding person, very loving, so loving that even if she drives you crazy, or if i drive you up a wall and smother you with all my love—you still consider other people's feelings," he told you with a beaming grin, moving his face closer to yours.

his nose brushed against yours as he rubbed the back of your hand with the pads of his fingers, chuckling under his breath. "for every bad thing you're mom, or anyone for that matter, has ever said or done to you... i'll give you every sweet thing you deserve from me, whatever you want, i'll give it; whatever you need... i'll make sure you have it. and of course... i'll keep reminding you of the truth," he tells you as he tilts your chin up with his thumb and looks you in the eye.

"you're beautiful, smart, caring, talented, unique, and worth loving. that's why i pursued you as the only one i'd ever want, sure, we're just teenagers for now, but... i want to reassure you like this not just a day, a week, nor a month from now; but forever, if you'll let me. i can't fully undo some of the damage you might have gotten from her or others, but... i'll help plant good memories in that beautiful garden of your mind, i promise," he murmurs, gently kissing your forehead as you feel the hot tears roll down your cheeks and stain your shirt.

he immediately dotes on you and kisses the corners of your eyes after wiping your tears away. "that's my girl, my beautiful, strong girl, who i'll love for eternity."

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matan4il · 4 months

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Watched Eurovision last weekend and tried to only pay attention to the music but oof, the Israel derangement was horrid. Were any of the other contestants nice to Eden or at the very least not total assholes to her because where's she's from? Please tell me someone was decent or even mildly professional.

Hi Nonnie!

I'm glad to tell you that there WERE people who were personally decent to Eden and the Israeli team, from what I've heard.

One of the parts that suck is that it feels like talking about it too loudly might bring those people into the line of fire. I can say that about myself, that while I was treated awfully by some people in fandom, I've had people be absolutely wonderful to me, and I've had to keep my mouth shut and not thank or celebrate them publicly, because that would have drawn the fire to them. They absolutely do not deserve that. And it sucks that I can't even be openly grateful. Same with the people friendlier to Eden, we Israelis have heard stuff, so we know of them and are thankful, but I don't think anyone has said anything too public, because no one wants to endanger them.

Still, I hope it's been long enough since the final, that we can safely share a few things. Also, I'll emphasize that most of this is hearsay, I can't verify any of it, because it wasn't published officially, this is just the stuff we hear.

The Israeli singer who grew up in and was representing Luxembourg was really lovely with Eden. Tali could have easily avoided ANY association with Eden, so I give her credit for not doing that. The German singer was the nicest to the Eden and Israeli delegation, and I also heard that Germany actually stood up for Israel when the EBU wanted to disqualify it, rightly pointing out the differences between this situation and Russia's ban. I heard good things about the Austrian singer as well, the Latvian, and the Georgian singer. There's probably more that aren't popping into my mind right now, but this is a start, and it's nice knowing kind people, who won't bully a 20 years old singer just because of her nationality, do exist, right?

Another part that sucks is that even some of the people who were nice backstage to Eden, were only willing to do so away from the public eye. I think the most extreme one is the 2023 runner up, Finnish performer Käärijä. He ran into Eden backstage and was totally cool with them doing a short, quick rendition of his ESC song together (which you can see in the link below). It was clearly just two people who love music having fun together, but once the vid was posted online, people started attacking him for supporting genocide (because that's not a leap of logic at all), and he quickly put out a message denouncing everything he's said and done ever, including being born. Then he just had to reassure all of his bullies that he's "okay" even further. The Norwegian 2023 singer who was supposed to deliver her country's jury results had already announced she won't as an anti-Israel measure, so when he was supposed to give the Finnish jury vote, he simply announced he won't, letting people make the connection, and figure out for themselves that it was an anti-Israel move.

Still I think you can take the ones who weren't loudly nasty to Eden, and assume most were nice enough to her privately, even if not publicly. To figure out who those probably were, on top of the ones I mentioned above, I'll just give a short rundown of the performers who were being awful about Israel to different degrees (so you can figure out who was at least decent by way of elimination): Ireland, Belgium, Switzerland, the UK, the Netherlands, Greece, Portugal, Lithuania, Norway, Finland, Slovenia, San Marino, Denmark.

I hope I helped... Have a good day! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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wannabeschyulersister · 1 year

Text

you are in love vol 2

one look, dark room

meant just for you

“Don��t look but there is a beautiful man with a wonderful mustache wearing a horrible Hawaiian shirt totally looking at you.”

Your friend’s very weird sentence nearly made you spit out the beer you were currently drinking. “What?”

“I’ll tell you when to look,” Sam said and you wanted to look anyways, “No, not now. He’s still looking over here.”

You rolled your eyes, “He’s not looking at me.”

“(Y/n), he’s practically drooling.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” You say as you start to turn to see who she was talking about.

Sam quickly grabbed your arm, “No! You can’t look now! It’ll be obvious that I told you.”

“I want to see this mustached man.” You laughed.

She glanced behind you again quickly, “Okay….look now.”

You turned a little and saw who she was referring to.

Damn.

Sam was right. He was absolutely beautiful. He was with two friends, one blonde and the other a shorter, dark haired guy who currently has his attention.

They all looked like GQ models.

Then, as if you shouted his name across the loud bar, he looked back at you. When he noticed that you were looking at him, he smirked a little. Then he winked.

WINKED.

You turned back to Sam and she had this huge grin on her face. After knowing her for 10+ years, you knew that was her “I told you so” face. She was never shy about being smug.

“He didn’t even wink at me and I feel like swooning.”

“Sam, he’s probably just messing around.”

“Oh yeah? Then why is he heading this way?”

You froze, “You’re lying.”

“See for yourself.”

You turned and looked at the Hawaiian shirt guy’s previous spot by the dart board and he was missing. His two friends were there but he was not.

“He probably just went to the bathroom.” You said trying to restrain from looking around the bar for him.

You felt a small tap on your shoulder and you turned a little to see who it was.

“Excuse me. I’m sorry to interrupt but I had to come over here and say hello.” Even his voice was sexy. You felt like you could melt into a puddle right on the spot.

You thought he was handsome from far away but up close? Wow. He’s breathtaking.

“I’m Sam and this is my very single and very wonderful friend, (Y/n).” Sam said introducing the two of you.

You rolled your eyes at the “very single” part of her sentence.

The guy chuckled a little beside you, “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/n). I’m Bradley.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” The fact that you were able to complete a full sentence surprised the hell out of you.

“I’m going to go to the bar and get another drink.” Sam started to get up from the table but you stopped her.

“Your drink is practically still full.”

She grabbed her glass and downed it in one go. “It’s empty now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at your friend’s antics as she walked away.

“She’s quite the character.” Bradley said as he occupied the now empty seat.

“Yeah, that’s why I keep her around.”

“I hope that I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable with me coming over here. I just- I noticed you across the room and I felt like I had to come over here and talk to you.” Bradley explained.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable at all. Maybe a tad bit confused.”

Now Bradley was the one that looked confused, “What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t sure if you were looking at me.”

“Of course I was. I noticed you from the second you stepped foot in this bar. You practically lit up the place.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes a little, “Is that what you normally say to all of the girls you pick up from this place?”

Bradley chuckled, “No, I tend to keep to myself when I’m here.”

“Now that has to be a lie.”

“Why do you say that?” Bradley asked leaning closer.

“Look at you. You look like a model. That mustache shouldn’t work on anyone on this planet but it does. On you.”

That made him smile, “That’s the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me.”

“You’ve never gotten a compliment on that level before?”

“I’ve never gotten a compliment by someone like you before.”

“Someone like me?”

“Someone absolutely breathtaking.”

“Are you telling me you’re sprung on someone that you just met moments ago?” You asked him.

“All it took was one look.”

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster x y/n

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cinnamontoastcrunch-15 · 1 year

Note

This isn’t really new headcanons, but I’m so down bad for the fact that Sirius participates/adores things that Remus does that he normally wouldn’t. Such as the meditating or him following along with Remus’ hippie practices. Because yea know, it’s with Remus, and I think that makes it all the difference for Sirius. Then Remus being all nonchalantly possessive with kissing him in front of people and calling him when Remus’ Sirius senses are tingling. I’m more just gushing about how amazing this theme and pairing are. Their interactions and antics always make me smile. Thank u so much for posting and writing about them!

Wow, this is… thank you!!

This is genuinely one of the nicest things anyone has ever said about my writing, and it’s so nice to see people enjoying the stupid things I write!

Anyway onto the (short) oneshot!! :)

Today y’all are going to meet crystal and weed seller Lily

“Lils, do you have any tarot cards with animals on them?” Remus asked, dropping his elbows onto the counter and smiling at her.

“Probably, I’ve stopped keeping track. How come? You’ve got an extensive tarot collection as it is.”

“Sirius wants to learn, I figured I’d get him his own deck for it.” They answered with a shrug, not noticing as Lily’s eyes widened.

“You mean your scientist boyfriend wants to learn to read tarot?” She asked, arching an eyebrow at him. When he just nodded, she kept going. “The one who has three different microscopes in his home office?” They frowned at her, confused.

“Yeah? You know he meditates with me once a day, I already told you.”

“Christ, sometimes I feel like you have two different boyfriends and just mix them up sometimes.” She said, straightening up and turning away from them to rearrange some incense holders. “Still, go check the shelves, there are probably some with- why animals?”

“A little bit of subliminal messaging.” They answered with a shrug. “I figure if I set everything up properly, I’ll be able to convince Sirius that we’re just meant to have a cat.”

“Have you even asked yet?” She asked, Remus starting to rifle through the decks.

“No, and he’d probably agree now. I just want to make sure.” He bit back a smile, finally finding the right deck and turning back to drop it on the desk. As Lily scanned it, she glanced at Remus.

“So he meditates with you, wants to read tarot, and didn’t you say he’s actually wearing the crystal jewellery you got him? And he’s really a scientist?”

“Believe me, all you have to do is watch a climate change documentary with him and you’ll see it.” Remus answered simply. “He does so much for me, listening to him gush about his work is the least I can do. It’s surprisingly charming.” They said calmly, grabbing the cards off her and going to leave the shop. “Tell Petunia I’ve put a curse on her.” He said as he left, drawing a laugh out of Lily.

#LILY <33 #Remus used he/they pronouns now #because I say so #and Lily is trans mtf and plus sized #because happy pride month I love my queer comfort characters #Remus will be getting the cat #wolfstar #sirius black #marauders #wolfstar oneshot #remus lupin #remus x sirius #young marauders #moony x padfoot #atyd marauders #marauders oneshot #hippie Remus x scientist Sirius

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quillscales · 6 months

Text

"Get back here, you little rapscallion!" Karlach yelled as she darted after a small tiefling child.

The little one swerved and evaded her with masterful moves, all taught to her by her parents, of course, and headed straight for the large mahogany door at the end of the hall.

"Help! Ah-" The young girl cried out before breaking into small giggles as she jiggled the bronze doorknob. "Help! I need the Blade!" She scurried inside the moment the heavy door opened for her.

"Kira-" The scold died, swallowed by the warmth blooming in her chest as she watched her daughter rush past the threshold into Wyll's office. She halted her pursuit at the doorway, leaning softly against the frame, her gaze softening at the scene unfolding before her.

Wyll had been hunched over, but he shifted at the sound of hurried footsteps. His expression, a mask of concentration, melted into unguarded joy as he turned to greet the whirlwind that was Kira. Arms that had battled demons and wielded magic now opened wide, the warrior's posture relaxing as he leaned back to welcome the bundle of energy into his embrace. A chuckle, rich and warm, filled the room, echoing off the walls and mingling with Kira's delighted squeals.

"And what do you need the Blade for, little one?" Wyll asked before peeking at Karlach with a raised eyebrow.

"To fight demons!" Kira yelled, throwing her hands up and tipping backwards.

Wyll adjusted his hold, his hand steady on Kira's back so she wouldn't fall. "Oh?" he chuckled once more. "Are there demons in the house, Karlach?" He asked.

"Oh, yes. I invited them all in for tea. One of them broke the pot." Karlach teased back before looking away. "Because that definitely wasn't me."

"Hey, Dad," Kira said, her tone softer. My friends said it's weird that you have horns when you're not a Tiefling." She blinked while staring up at Wyll and the large horns that had adorned his head for years.

Kira’s words hung in the air, a mixture of innocence and inquiry. Karlach, understanding the weight of their daughter's question—a moment they knew would come—stepped further into the room. She leaned on the large desk, ignoring the papers she was crumpling.

"Have you ever heard how a tiger earns its stripes?" Karlach began, lifting a finger for emphasis.

"I don't think that's how that saying goes," Wyll interjected, a chuckle breaking through his words as Karlach shot him a look that was part playful reprimand, part affectionate challenge.

"Your dad did a good thing. A really good thing. Probably one of the nicest things that anyone has ever done." Karlach began to explain.

"…That's laying it a little thick," Wyll protested, his humility surfacing as a gentle undercurrent to Karlach’s grandeur.

Karlach waved off his modesty with a dismissive hand. "Anyway, they were his…reward. Sort of." She winced slightly, offering Wyll an apologetic look, acknowledging the complexity of their truth.

Kira tilted her head, processing the analogy with the seriousness only a child can muster. "Like when I do something good and get candy?"

Wyll stroked her hair. "Not quite, but…" His gaze moved from Kira to Karlach. They both knew he would never change the choice he made that day—marked by a devil but all the better for it. "In the end, I guess you can say it was just as sweet."

#blurb #fanfiction #fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 karlach #bg3 wyll #wyllach #post game #wyll ravengard #karlach

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frozenartscapes · 7 months

Text

Not Worried - Spy x Family Oneshot

“Aren’t you worried…about not coming home?”

It had only been a few weeks since their secrets had been accidentally uncovered in a mission gone wrong, and Loid (Agent Twilight - a spy for Westalis Intelligence) and Yor (Thorn Princess - a secret assassin) were still getting the hang of their new normal. Loid watched on from the couch, a few mission documents he no longer had to keep hidden left in front of him on the coffee table, as Yor gave herself emergency first aid in the kitchen. He had moved to get up to help but she insisted that the obvious gunshot wound on her arm wasn’t worth the trouble and that she could handle it.

And he had been skeptical because it was Yor. Not that he didn’t have faith in her, but… Well, he didn’t have much confidence in her stitching abilities. Despite that, she entered the living room after a few minutes, bandaged and bloodied, and plunked down in his usual chair.

And that was when he asked the question.

Yor frowned, her ruby eyes flitting to Anya’s closed door. The little girl should be sound asleep by now, blissfully unaware of the true nature of her parents’ jobs.

“No,” she replied simply.

Loid raised an eyebrow. “Yor… I know you have great skill,” he began cautiously, “But that doesn’t change the fact that your job is dangerous. You mean to tell me that you aren’t worried that there could be a night where you don’t come home?”

Yor shrugged. “I know there is always a chance, Loid,” she sighed, “And I truly would feel awful if my last thoughts are that Anya would lose another mother. But that is also why I’m not worried.”

He frowned in confusion. “But…”

“Loid.” She was serious, now. Her eyes had hardened and were sharp as flint, her entire being radiating powerful determination. “I’m not worried about being killed on the job,” she stated in a low tone he had come to call her “Thorn Princess” voice, “I’m not worried because if I ever die then I swear on my very soul I will claw my way out of Hell to return to you and Anya. Nothing will keep me from my family, not even Death.”

The funny thing Loid had been learning about Yor is, despite how insane that declaration was, he believed it. Because if anyone could look the Reaper square in the face and tell them to fuck off, it was Yor Forger.

And it…hurt. Because he wished he could say the same. He was painfully aware that once his mission was over, then he will likely be forced to leave. Having a family would only get in the way of being a spy. Even if his wife turned out to be an assassin - or, it may be because his wife was an assassin. (It was still too early to tell if it was a good or bad thing yet.)

Yor was willing to stand up to the lords of the underworld to return to the people she has come to call family, while Loid… Twilight…

He couldn’t even tell Handler that she had left a tag on her new jacket.

He also cast a longing glance at Anya’s door, feeling guilt boil uncontrollably in his chest. Yor noticed, and reached across the gap between them to gently take his hand that was on the armrest of the couch. She ran her thumb over his knuckles, leaving a little smear of blood that was probably hers.

“Let’s just focus on living right now, not in the future,” she suggested, “One job at a time.”

He managed to eke out a small smile, meeting her beautiful eyes and once more feeling his spirits lift. “Alright, I can do that,” he relented.

They sat in silence for a moment, taking in each other’s company, until something she said finally registered with Loid.

“You assume you’re going to Hell?” he demanded, unable to hide the shock in his voice. Yor was the nicest person he’d ever met! She was so good to Anya, so thoughtful and warm and helpful! Why would she ever think that—

He glanced back at her to discover she had pulled out one of her stilettos, still stained with some blood, and was idly twirling it in one hand with an unreadable expression on her face.

“Oh. Right.”

#spy x family #post-reveal #one shot #loid forger #yor forger #twiyor #yor forger isn’t scared of death - death is scared of HER

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cowgurrrl · 1 year

Text

United in Grief

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (except this is all backstory)

Author’s note: I’m sorry

Summary: “My mom honks her car horn every time she drives past the cemetery her friend is buried in. This is what I think love is: everlasting. Deathless.” [1.8k]

Warnings: if you’ve been reading this far, you know what to expect

April 7th, 1998

You're trying to figure out how you got here. You think the nurses are trying to figure out the same thing. You answer their questions in between contractions, your body shaking and overheating all at the same time. Your water broke at home while you were getting ready for school. You probably shouldn't have even thought about going when your Braxton-Hicks contractions were so bad. Still, you needed to finish school somehow. You were sitting down in the bathroom when it happened.

"Is there anyone we can call for you?" A nurse asks, snapping you out of your head as she checks your and the baby's heart rate. "Boyfriend? Parents? Friend?"

"There's no boyfriend, and I don't think any of my friends care enough to come," you sigh, rubbing your belly. "Besides, everyone's still at school."

"What about your mom? I'm sure she'd want to be here with you." She says gently, but the words feel like sandpaper rubbing over your skin. The baby kicks, and you press your hand back, letting her know you feel her.

"If you can get her to answer the phone, it'd be a low-level miracle."

"She's not supportive?"

"Having a pregnant sixteen-year-old was never on the bucket list. She hasn't spoken to me since I told her about the baby. Neither has the father, and I… I understand what it looks like." you say. You've read the statistics about teen moms and how they are less likely to finish high school. You're determined not to be a part of that statistic. You will make life perfect for this baby. No matter the cost. "But I got emancipated when I was three months pregnant, and I'm living in an apartment owned by one of my classmate's dads, and he's giving me reduced rent. And I work part-time at a restaurant. People love to tip the pregnant girl, right? So, we'll be okay. I'll be okay."

"It's okay if you're not." The nurse says, but you shake your head.

"I need to be okay for her."

"You're having a girl?" She asks, and you hum. She smiles and glances at the different machines you're hooked up to, making sure everything is in order. "Well, it sounds like she's very lucky to have you as her mama."

"Thank you." You mumble. It's the nicest thing anyone's said to you in months.

The nurse stays with you as your contractions get closer together and more painful. She rubs your back when you throw up and keeps you upright when they administer your epidural. Eventually, in your drugged-up, sleep-deprived state, you ask her to, at least, try to call some people for you. You give her Matt, your mom's, and a few friends' phone numbers. If anyone answers, she doesn't tell you. She doesn't have to. She just returns and perches on the edge of your bed, her hand resting on your knee.

"Y'know, I have a daughter about your age," she says. "She's super smart. Motivated. Beautiful, too, and don't get me wrong. She's made some mistakes. Some really big ones. But I'd hope that if she were ever in this position, I'd be able to find the courage to be as brave as you are right now," she squeezes your knee, and you wipe at your eyes, unexpected tears leaking from your eyes. "We're gonna help you have this little girl, okay?"

She doesn't leave your side, even when you're yelling loud obscenities, and the room devolves into controlled chaos. She coaches you through every contraction and even braids your hair so it's out of your sweaty face. Your doctor and two other nurses come in once you're fully dilated to help support you and the doctor. The rain outside pounds harder on the windows as you try to push and breathe when you're supposed to, but it's so hard, and you're so tired. You've been working too hard. You haven't been sleeping enough. You definitely haven't been drinking enough water. What if you've already fucked up as a mom? What if there's no coming back from this?

Your doctor says something about needing to push harder; otherwise, you'll have to have an emergency c-section, and you start sobbing— full-bodied, earth-shattering sobs. The nurse who braided your hair shushes you gently and dabs a damp rag against your forehead. You look at her and cry harder.

"I'm scared." You admit.

"I know you are, baby, but you're so close. Can I tell you something I tell my daughter?" She asks, and you nod through your tears. "Whenever you're feeling scared, just squeeze my hand as hard as you can, and I'll take all your fear from you, alright? Show me what you got." She takes your hand in yours, and you squeeze as the next contraction takes your attention. A few minutes later, in a room full of women, you deliver your daughter with a scream loud enough to shake the entire floor, but she's silent. You look at the nurse holding your hand worriedly.

"She's not crying. Why isn't she crying?"

"Sometimes, babies have a hard time adjusting to being outside the womb. We'll get her crying, don't worry." Time seems to freeze as you watch the doctor rub your daughter's back until she rears her head back and wails. You let out a big breath, and a moment later, she's placed on your chest. You don't realize you're still holding the nurse's hand, but she doesn't let go. She lets you squeeze her until you stop shaking long enough to put your other hand on the back of your daughter's head.

She's so small and has so much hair. You stare down at her like she's the most precious jewel anyone could've ever discovered as she cries and cries. You kiss her forehead and vaguely tune into something the doctor is trying to tell you about recovery. You nod, but you're not listening. You're focusing on how your daughter's lungs expand and contract and how her heart beats against yours like it was always meant to be. Like it was forever and always supposed to be you and her.

You let the nurse holding your hand take the baby to get cleaned up as the rest of the nurses and the doctor run around to ensure you have everything you need. Once things settle and your daughter is back in your arms, people gradually leave the room for you to bask in her beauty. Now that she's here, everything seems so real, so important. The weight on your shoulders doesn't feel as heavy with her next to you, but it's still there. You're sure you'll cry later about not knowing what the fuck you're doing, but it's okay. It has to be. You're a mom now.

"I'm gonna go get some paperwork done, okay? If you need anything, even if it's just a friend, you press this button." The nurse says, putting the call button next to you in bed, and you nod.

"Thank you…" you trail off, realizing the nurse never told you her name, and she smiles, looking between you and the baby.

"Jane."

June 2nd, 2008

You're trying to figure out how you got here, outside the walls but in the opposite direction of the Shell station. You told Lee you didn't want to do any more drops so close to when Jane gets out of school. Still, the promised payout was enough of an incentive. You and Mrs. Carmichael have gotten closer since Adam died. She told you about her husband, who died long before the outbreak, and how she never changed her name back. You told her about Adam and what he meant to you. It felt like soldiers passing war stories back and forth to figure out why they were thrust onto battlefields, trying to find out what they did wrong to get drafted into a war they never imagined. She's kind. You trust her. It made sense to ask her to pick Jane up today.

Jane's been having a hard time in the past few months. A few weeks after Adam died, she asked you if he was her father. She admitted she doesn't remember much from before the outbreak and told you she vaguely remembers Outbreak Day. She's never really known a world without Adam until now. You wanted to lie and say yes. You wanted to tell her that, of course, she was a product of this beautiful, kind, amazing man. You wanted her never to know or claim Matt. You still don't know why you said no.

She barely wanted to celebrate her birthday two months ago but plastered on a smile when you surprised her with new notebooks and pencils for her to write with. These days, she's locking herself in her room with Adam's radio and her words. You remind her you love her and are there to talk, but she just nods and disappears. She's getting older. You can't shield her from the world forever, but goddammit, if you can't try for as long as you can.

You've connected with two guys on the radio who have a safe house in a safe, abandoned neighborhood in Boston. They've been giving you tips on how to find and keep a safe place outside of the QZ. With all the smugglers, weapons dealers, and survival skills you know, for the first time, it's feasible. It's possible. You could take her out of the QZ and build her that home in the forest where she could actually be a kid. You just need a few months. You can do it. You will do it for her.

Catherine's group shows up right on time, a desperate attempt to show how sorry they are for what happened the last time they were late. You don't make eye contact with her as you trade for the shit you need to. She's about to open her mouth to say something, and your fists ball up at whatever she could have to say when an ear-splitting sound emerges from the QZ. The ground shakes with the force, and you reach for your gun like you're waiting for it to happen again.

"Probably some Fireflies and FEDRA playing hot potato again," one of Catherine's guys says. "They've been throwing bombs at each other for the past month in our QZ." And just like that night you first saw fighter jets circling your city, you get an unmistakable sinking feeling in your stomach.

You start running back, praying to whatever god will still take pity on you after every sin you've committed to keep your little girl safe.

You wish you knew your prayers were landing on deaf ears. You would've run faster.

#when you’re lost in the darkness #look for the light prequel #tlou fic

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theproverbialpen · 5 months

Text

Musings from a Hazbin Fan and Hotel Employee

Yeah, that's right—I'm posting to this blog for the first time in years because I got into Hazbin Hotel of all things. Not only did I get into this cursed fandom, I'm writing fan fiction for it. Fan fiction. I think the last time I wrote fanfiction was...2012? 2013? And I only ever told 3 people about that one. Now here I am posting on main. The brainrot truly is unquantifiable.

If you're one of the few people that survived the purge of those I know IRL, congratulations. Please don't judge me lol. Anyways, actual musings are below the cut!

So I’m writing a fun little fanfic on AO3 and after someone left a comment (if you’re reading this, still genuinely one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me about my craft), it occured to me—as a Hazbin Hotel enjoyer, I have a pretty unique perspective on the series as an IRL hospitality professional. So! Thought it would be some cute bonus content to talk a little bit more about my life at an actual hotel and how it’s impacted my experience with Vivziepop’s hit series.

Please note: this is written purely for shits and giggles. I don’t actually have any issues with the setting of Vivzie’s narrative or how it plays into the stories she and her team want to tell. I fucking love this show, to a potentially unhealthy degree, and I haven’t had this much fun with a series since like…okay well my hyperfixations change like every few months, but still. Point is, this isn’t actually critique, or satire, or anything with negative or critical intentions. TLDR; this post is for funsies, get off my dick.

So Who TF Am I, Anyways?

A little background on myself, for context. I’ve been employed at my hotel for almost a year now, and it’s my first hospitality job. I work in the Sales and Events department and I’ve come to learn that Group Business is actually integral for keeping a hotel up and running. When your average person (read: me before this job) thinks about hotels and traveling, you’d think it’s all about the families, bloggers, and individual travelers when it comes to guests and revenue. But in actuality, most of a hotel’s revenue—at least in the market I work in—will come from contracted room blocks and events.

That’s where folks in my department come in. We work with clients to negotiate contracts and secure occupants for our hotel year round. Simply put, if we don’t do our jobs well, then no one else gets hours. So as much as the anti-capitalist in me will sometimes hate being a cog in the machine, it is really fulfilling to be able to help clients meet their needs while also making sure my coworkers are able to put food on the table.

Speaking of being a cog in the machine, because of my role in Sales, this means that whenever I travel or think about hotels, I’m always thinking about the revenue side of things. I also work more with the Events team, so operations are also on the forefront of my mind. Which leads me to my principal quandary for this little blog post:

How in the Hell does the Hazbin Operate?

I have a laundry list of questions. A laundry list that’s almost as big as the actual pile of dirty laundry that is currently plaguing my bedroom floor. I will summarize (which is a generous word given how fucking verbose I can be) below:

Issue #1: Revenue Generation

Okay listen, I know Charlie is the Princess of Hell. I know she probably has unlimited capital, whatever that looks like in the HelluVerse. And I know the Hazbin is literally there to help rehabilitate people so charging them to stay would be counterproductive.

But my dude…do you understand how much money would be needed to run an operation of this scale?

At the end of Season 1, the new Hazbin is huge. Like it easily looks as big, if not bigger, than the hotel I work at which has nearly 500 rooms. Do you know how much revenue our team has to generate to keep this place running? Do you know how many millions our target goal is set at for each quarter? How many hundreds of thousands my coworkers’ individual quotas are set to? And sunshine in a bottle over here doesn’t charge her residents anything?????

How does she get all those decorations? How does she order food or inventory? We know Hell has an economy, like Angel literally says he needs to save money for drugs in his first appearance. Is she…does she even pay her staff???

It is utterly appalling that Charlie is able to operate a hotel of this scale, both because of how it doesn’t make sense from a business perspective and because there are IRL billionaires that could probably do the same thing and solve homelessness overnight.

Speaking of scale:

Issue #2: The Hazbin’s Systems, Or Lack Thereof

Okay so, yes, there’s only like…one official resident of the hotel, maybe two if Cherri moves in and doesn’t become a staff member (RIP Pentious, you would have loved living with Cherri Bomb). With the staff the way it is, that’s a solid 5:1 ratio, which is beyond ideal. But—and I touch on this in the fic—I feel I must reiterate: the new Hazbin is fucking massive. And you know what that means? It’s going to be able to hold a lot of guests. Guests that will need staff to take care of them. Let’s review:

Charlie is the owner and mostly teaches classes. Vaggie is the co-owner and kind of acts as the Executive Assistant to Charlie’s General Manager. I guess Alastor is the Hotel Manager? I’m gonna be honest, I have no idea what he does, but generally speaking he’s supposed to be the jack of all trades and manage the rest of the staff. Niffty handles Housekeeping and I guess would be the director of that. Husk is the bartender but like canonically only really eats pub food so he definitely can’t be the Food & Beverage head.

Let’s say we scrap the Sales and Revenue Departments because clearly they don’t need income, but we keep a Marketing position so that Charlie can get the word out about the hotel. That leaves us with the need for Engineering, Front Desk, Rooms, and F&B staff. And like, not just one person—that would fucking suck—but proper staff. And given their track record of organization and managing the hotel…let’s just say, I would not be applying to the Hazbin Hotel anytime soon. Honestly, it sounds like that job would qualify to be the new tenth circle of Hell.

What Does the Hazbin Get Right About IRL Hospitality?

So yes, clearly the world of the Hazbin Hotel leans towards the more fanciful—it is a story about Hell after all. However, there have been some moments that have made me chuckle as a hotel employee, things that are relatable for us in the hospitality world. Allow me to highlight them for you below:

Everyone is Bat Shit Crazy

Hospitality professionals are weird. So weird. Before I started my job, I was terrified of the level of professionality I would need to have. When I first got hired, I was given a whole packet on dress code and appropriate conduct. As you can probably tell from my writing style, this was concerning: I can be professional when I need to be, but I cannot maintain that guise for extended periods of time. Call it my toxic trait.

I also already had this impression of poised and put-together hotel staff from my previous experiences with travel. All the Front Desk agents would be in these clean and wrinkle-free clothes with kind yet business-forward attitudes, office workers would be walking around in full suits, and occasionally you’d see the hotel management on the floor if you were looking. Let me tell you now—it is a facade. An act. An incredible stage production unfolding in real time where all the staff do their absolute damndest to make you feel like you are in an organized and professional institution. Not unlike a certain hit animated musical.

My direct supervisor, the literal Director of Catering and Events, once told me that being a liiiiiittle crazy was a prerequisite for working in our department during the hiring process for a new Sales Manager. She was wrong—the prerequisite is not “a little” crazy. The prerequisite is being bat shit insane. And it’s not just our department, oh noooOoooOo, it is every department. Downstairs in our little basement dungeon, we make out of pocket comments, scream at random intervals, and swear way more than we should (that one might be my fault…according to my partner I swear more at work than at home and apparently it’s rubbing off on my colleagues), but that behavior is in no way restricted to just the Sales Team.

I process the checks that are sent to our property and our Director of Rooms makes me say “can I get a WITNESSSS” before she signs off on the drop log (Charlie-core). If I don’t say it high pitched enough or with enough vigor, she makes me do it again. I once watched a guy in Engineering climb a tall step ladder balanced with two legs on a platform and a third leg balanced on a wooden plank his coworker was holding steady. The fourth leg was over the open air. Let me reiterate: the open. Fucking. Air. Tell me you can’t see Angel Dust and Cherri doing that shit.

Speaking of Engineering, you wanna know what dumbass thing happened just this morning? The Regional Director of the department—regional meaning he manages teams all across our area, like top level type shit—told us about this cursed ass Instagram trend he found where allegedly, putting ketchup on a Kit Kat tasted like fudge. So right there and then, him, myself, and two other coworkers decided ‘why the fuck not?’:

I would never seek it out willingly again, but I honestly didn’t hate it.

The point of all of this is to say—the antics the Hazbin crew get up to? Totally realistic. I could see my coworker Robert throwing me into an active battlefield against my will. We have deadass done the role playing thing Angel and Pentious did during our trainings, and it was just as unhinged. Every day some shit happens at this hotel and I’m just like, “Yup. That could happen in Hazbin.”

“Call Now! Or Don’t! I Don’t Care! We Still Don’t Have a Working Phone!”

I would like to preface this section by saying: if you happen to be a Front Desk associate, I’m sorry. This is not directed at you, this is directed at your managers and their communication skills that may or may not exist. If you are somehow a manager reading this, uh—first of all, cringe. Second of all, I hope these next few paragraphs don’t apply to you. If they do and you’re offended: that’s a certified you-problem, babes.

There are three certainties in this life: death, taxes, and miscommunication from your fucking managers. Tell me why in this past week alone I have been in 5 different email threads regarding fuck-ups and complaints from guests about things that we had clearly communicated. Tell me why in these email threads, people were attempting to throw me under the bus or shift the blame to my team. Tell me why I have gone to every single individual office in my department complaining about this. Tell me why this isn’t the first time this has happened.

Another hotel tidbit: across the board, Q1 (Jan-Mar) is supposed to be slow, for all of hospitality. It’s the time to get the metaphorical phone lines working, ya know? Our Q1 was stupidly busy, so I get it, people were slammed and short staffed. But like… we had time. Time to iron out our communication, time to create systems and processes that would ensure we’d be all set when things got busier. Yet here I am at the start of Q2 with an entire fist shoved up my ass being puppeted around to fix other people’s mistakes.

It’s times like these when I go back to rewatch Hazbin for the like 26th time and I watch Charlie and Alastor run the hotel and I’m just like “whyyYyYyYyYyYy”. Like I KNOW Vaggie has had days where she’s like, “what…what am I supposed to be doing right now? Like what is my job, what… What?”

It’s not just Front Desk either. It’s every department, even my own bosses. Like the call is coming from inside the house, sweetie, why did you tell this Sales Manager that I was taking care of all her commissions but you didn’t tell me this. Why am I blocking a room for an Orientation the following Monday at fucking 5:45 PM on a Friday. Why am I JUST finding out about a VIP guest when I have been asking you if you had any notes for me for the whole week.

I touch on it in my fic as well but like…pretty sure Charlie just, decides to host her classes day of. And that drives me insane. Like I…there are processes. Things that need to be done so that everyone is on the same page. You don’t just wing this shit, that’s how you end up with Susan calling your Director to tell her that you’re a useless waste of space not even deserving of the air in your lungs because you didn’t give her her fucking breakfast voucher.

As a character, I love Alastor. If I were ever in the same room as him, I’d probably hate him. But if there’s anything relatable about that Geneva Convention Violation on Legs it’s his absolutely done attitude in Episode 1’s opening commercial.

Charlie Loves Helping People, and So Do We!

Alright, I’ve complained for enough paragraphs, let’s be positive for a second. The thing that is by far the most true to life in Hazbin Hotel is how much joy Charlie gets from taking care of her guests. Like…that’s our bread and butter in the hospitality world. Well, maybe just the butter; we need that bread in the form of cold hard cash (or direct deposits, whatever works best). But as much as I will bitch and moan about the difficulties of working in a hotel, there’s nothing quite as fulfilling as a guest telling you that you made their entire trip better. The butterflies I get reading reviews where my coworkers are mentioned by name and a guest writes about how we completely turned around their bad day are an absolute delight. It just means the world knowing that you can have that kind of impact on someone, even if it’s just in the little things.

In Episode 2, when Charlie and the crew are welcoming Sir Pentious and she just starts vibrating with excitement is exactly how I feel when I get to meet a client that we’ve been working with for months and finally welcome them to our property. When they sing “It Starts With Sorry” and just get to have a moment of empathy and compassion together, it reminds me of the clients and the phone calls I take where I get to ask them about their goals and help them feel like they’re supported and heard. In the grand scheme of things, is a nice phone call or interaction with some hotel employee going to change your life? Probably not. But for those few moments when their burdens seem lighter is why I love my job.

This goes for guests, and for my fellow coworkers. I’ve been very blessed to start my hospitality career in an unusually supportive work culture. Yeah, we can be some right petty bitches sometimes, but overall everyone is so encouraging and so quick to help lighten each other’s loads. Like in Episode 5 (best episode btw, for obvious reasons) when all the Hazbin Crew are working together to prepare the hotel for Lucifer’s arrival, that shit made me so giddy cause like- that’s us! Look at us go! We workin together so hard, we’re so cute! Like when Niffty and Pentious are baking and she looks up at him all excited n’ shit—that’s literally been me working with our Director of Restaurants on new food menus or promotional material.

There’s something about being in an occupation where your whole purpose is to take care of people that really brings out the selflessness in you, and I think that’s what makes the hotel such a great setting for Charlie’s mission of redemption. I didn’t realize that until writing this paragraph tbh, but yeah, it just kinda…works. When your job is to make sure other people have a good time and feel supported and you’re surrounded by people that make you feel the same way, it’s a lot easier to want to choose to do good, to do right by the people around you. So as much as I have some silly little nitpicks…yeah, I can admit—I love that this show is about the Hazbin Hotel specifically.

Anyways, if you made it this far, thanks for reading! Next update for Life is In Redemption will be out in the days to come, just thought this would be a fun addition while I work on some of the content with my friends. This upcoming chapter is going to have a co-author, so get hyyyyyped :)

#hazbin hotel #blog post #text #charlie morningstar #alastor #vaggie #angel dust #cherri bomb #sir pentious #hazbin hotel husk #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #personal post #life is in redemption #bonus content

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runningwolf62 · 3 months

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Oh hey, hey Wolf. Remember how the other day you suggested an AU where Ena is the Inquisitor/has the Anchor, and Esti and Brennan are just there along for the ride? One must consider the inciting incident of this, that Esti and Ena split up to better nose around and get information, Esti meets Brennan, and then the two of them go down to Haven to be nosy there.

And then the Conclave explodes. There is talk of one single survivor. All Esti knows is that Ena was up there in the Temple when it blew up. She's dealing with the most profound grief of her life and the only shoulder she has to cry on is that of a human she met four hours ago. And all Ena knows is that she doesn't know where Esti was, maybe she could have gone down to Haven, but more likely she's just - gone. "What do you mean," she asks Cassandra, "that everyone is dead?"

Ena stops the Breach from expanding further, everyone's talking about the Herald of Andraste, but the stories are probably so jumbled that it would take days for Esti to realize that the Conclave's sole survivor is her sister.

This AU concept simply speedruns the angst. Starting right off with it.

Brennan would actually be looking to join the Inquisition, I've realized, because this is the furthest he's ever been from his family, and this will give him something far away from them, money, etc. Like it's a mess rn but if they're taking recruits, he's got experience with horses, he'll be a messenger or stablehand or anything. Like, I think that's something in the back of his mind.

So he's sneaking around to see if they're hiring and also because he's the Trevelyan shame and he wants to be left alone and runs into Esti, who is also sneaking around, and once initial shock wears off, he'd probably offer that she could stick with him because people will assume she's supposed to be there if she's with a human, like, why else would she be walking around openly talking to one? And exploring is more fun with friends, right? And really, he doesn't believe in the Maker anyway, so it might be a bit fun to make fun of everyone.

Brennan is in the middle of a dumb joke, he's been telling them for the past hour to his new friend, (Esti, she'd said, and she likes that he enjoys taking the piss out of everything) and he's making the kinda jokes that are only funny when you're mocking the church that runs everything but you both think is kinda a load of crap.

When the sky explodes. Brennan, when he was in the templars, read a lot to escape. He ended up loving the stars and everything they knew about the night sky because he could always see it and there was so much that was incredible about it.

No book had every described the event happening above them now. The sky is split open, and Brennan has seen wounds. Reminds him of a gash, of split open knuckles, of fights he'd had in training and shallow wounds, of how something supposed to be whole pulls apart.

"What the fuck." He breathes, as he and Esti pick themselves off the ground, immediately having to grab her, "where the fuck are you going, stay here!"

"My- my sister, she was here too, she was up there-"

"Stay here." Brennan drags her back, away from everything, "are you out of you- okay. Fair enough. You're scared, I get it. Esti!" She looks at him, rather than past him like she's gonna bolt for it, "listen to me. I know how things... not like this, but they're gonna look for someone to blame. The last thing you wanna do is be the Dalish they find up there."

Esti blinks and nods jerkily, and Brennan sighs heavily. He didn't want to go back before this anyway. Esti's been the nicest person he's spoken to in the past month.

"And I'll stay with you until we find her, okay?" He offers a hand, "we stick together, deal?"

"Deal, shem."

"Please, Shem is my father's name, call me Brennan." He thinks Esti snorts at that because it's one of the stupidest things anyone's ever said, but as everyone is scrambling about around them in a panic, he's succeeded in one small thing. Keeping either of them from panicking.

He takes a deep breath, "now, what's your sister look like? You came down here, maybe she did too. We'll start where all the Chantry people aren't."

#Little does Brennan know that where all the Chantry people are is where they should be looking #Gee Cassandra why does the Maker let you have TWO inquisitors AU

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charlie-pippin-faraday · 1 year

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About Jerome’s mum yeah the way Poppy and Jerome talk about her isn’t great and they explicitly state that she wants nothing to with helping their dad even though it clearly means a lot to her kids and that Jerome went to Poppy’s recitals when their mum couldn’t be assed so she’s definitely not the nicest.

[warning: this kind of turned into a long post]

Yeah none of the things anyone ever says about her or the context clues they give about her paint her in a good light. I'm trying to think of anything good Poppy or Jerome ever said about their mother and I'm drawing a blank.

Tbh I'd go as far as to say that she's probably the WORST parent of all the parents ever seen or mentioned. Or at least has the worst relationship with her kid(s). And that's saying something, given what some of these parents are like and some of the things they've done

Let's assess these parents, shall we? I'm gonna go from best to worst (in my opinion, at least)

We never hear any kind of mention of Fabian's or Willow's parents. Amber never once mentions a mother, and Nina's and KT's parents are all deceased, so we're not gonna include them, I'm only touching on the ones I know for sure exist.

Eddie's mom - A lot of this is just me drawing my own conclusions, but there's no way Eddie doesn't have a good relationship with his mother. He never mentions a step-parent, so I'm left to believe that she raised him by herself and it was just the two of them in their house. He got into trouble a lot in school in America but he never implied that caused any issues between him and his mom. He calls her boring at one point during his first date with Patricia but tbh I think that's just him lying to look cool. I think she has the best relationship of any of the parents with their kids, and I have two pieces of evidence for it: 1) Eddie brought his girlfriend across the ocean to meet his mom, who seemingly loved her, and 2) She actively helped Eddie plan a date and even called him (repeatedly) to see how it was going. A teenage boy consulted with his mom on girl problems, and one of two things happened. Either he asked her to help him plan a date/tell him what he should do to woo Patricia and she did, or she offered the date idea unprompted and he took it. That boy loves his mama and she clearly loves him right back. Absolutely none of the other kids are calling their parents and willingly letting them get THAT involved in their love lives like that.

Mara's parents (Francis & Mrs. Jaffray) - We never see them, but we hear about them a number of times, and Mara never says anything bad about them. She appears to be on very good terms with her parents. Despite not sharing their interests/passions/career choices, Mara in my estimation probably looks up to them a lot. They're both professional, gold medal-winning athletes, and I'll bet that's where Mara gets her competitiveness and her drive to be the best at everything. She probably feels a lot of pressure to achieve the same success as they did, and she does mention them being pushy, but it's probably more Mara pressuring herself internally than them pressuring her. Mara says more about her dad than her mom, describing him as normal and a little silly (he apparently dances like SpongeBob lol). Never a bad word about either of them, leading me to believe she has a very good relationship with her parents, though not on the same level as Eddie and his mother.

Alfie's parents (Philip & Marsha Lewis) - We see Alfie's parents once, when they visit the house after the play. And like, they obviously have a pretty good relationship, otherwise they wouldn't even bother visiting. Alfie's mom clearly adores him. And yes, Alfie's dad is very strict and has high expectations, but he never gave any indication that he didn't care. A lot of that comes from his desire to see his son succeed. And Alfie clearly wants his father to be proud of him and tries hard to impress him. I think Alfie's mother probably spoils him, but his dad is very hard on him, and that might have the potential to cause them conflict later in life when Alfie expresses that he doesn't want to go into the family business or even work in that field at all. Alfie describes them as strict and control freaks (his dad being strict in the "I am a businessman and in charge" type of way, and his mom in the "oh that's my baby I won't let anything happen to my baby!!!" type of way imo), but they clearly care a lot, and despite all the pressure Alfie feels from his parents they are definitely on the top end of Anubis parents. (Though tbh it's more Alfie's mom than dad that gets them this high on the list.) And since we know nothing about Fabian's dad, I think I can officially declare that Alfie has the best relationship with his dad out of all the boys in Anubis House, despite how strict he is and the potential conflict they could have.

Mick's and Joy's moms - I'm lumping these two here together because both of them are mentioned maybe once in passing and nothing is ever said about either of them. I know that they exist, and that's it. I know nothing about them or their relationships with their respective kids. So I have to assume that as moms they are just Fine, otherwise Joy and Mick would have talked about them more. And tbh I have nothing else to say about them, so moving on.

Amber's dad - Amber's dad feels like the classic "I don't know what to do with my child or how to connect with them so I'll just buy them everything" type of rich parent. Do they have a strong relationship? I wouldn't say particularly so, probably. But it's not a bad one. The main knock on him is that he doesn't have a lot of faith in her to achieve things in her life and probably doesn't think she's very smart. Does he know his daughter? No, it doesn't look that way. Does he love his daughter? Yes, he never gives any indication that he doesn't. The main thing putting him this high on the list is that Amber seems to adore her dad. She is definitely daddy's little girl. He absolutely spoils her. And she seems to revere him almost, and she believes he has the power to solve almost any kind of problem, which is probably how it went during a good portion of her childhood. He was very worried when he didn't see Amber for awhile while she was trapped in the tank room, and I'm pretty sure part of the reason he let her go to fashion school was concern over her well-being. While they have their tension and certainly their distance, this is definitely a good relationship, for the most part.

Mick's dad (Rory Campbell) - This is the point where we get into the more complex relationships. Mick's still got a good relationship with his dad, but it feels a lot more strained compared to the relationships above just because of the vibes I got while watching. Like Alfie's dad, Mick's dad is very hard on him. They're both rich and important and expect a lot. I think the main difference is that Alfie's dad was more like "I want you to take advantage of your potential so that you can succeed" but he's less particular about what success looks like. I don't believe he ever explicitly stated that he wanted Alfie to follow in his footsteps or take a particular path, it felt more vague and he would likely be more flexible with Alfie's future. Mick's dad, on the other hand, had a VERY particular plan in place that he expected Mick not to veer from, and seemed disappointed when Mick expressed that he wanted to do something else. And tbh one of the bigger transgressions in my mind is that he doesn't listen to Mick, and he doesn't take him seriously. It takes Mara's convincing to get him on board with the exact same things Mick was trying to tell him, and tbh that doesn't sit right with me. He doesn't seem to have a lot of belief in his son, and there also seems to be a fundamental misunderstanding of his son if he doesn't know that he's very talented at sports and not skilled at math and science and is pushing so hard for him to be a doctor specifically and not veer from the "plan" they probably made when he was like eight. Mick expresses a lot of frustration with his dad, both during this incident and when they're taking him out of school to Australia. Another difference between Alfie and Mick: Alfie is actively trying to impress his dad. Mick feels that he's already disappointed his. I imagine the frustration decreased a lot when his dad finally accepted his son's ambitions. So overall I'd say this is a mostly good relationship, and his dad definitely cares about him, but there is tension here that I can FEEL.

Jerome's dad (John Clarke) - I'm gonna have to do the cliffsnotes version of this one, since we got basically a whole season touching on this particular relationship. They didn't make it super clear when exactly he went to prison, but there was definitely a good amount of time where he was at home with the family. Poppy said she barely remembers him, so it couldn't have been THAT long, but it was long enough for Jerome to collect a substantial amount of memories, and none of them were good. Before he went to prison, it feels like John was a pretty crappy father. And not only did his parents put Jerome in boarding school at age 5, essentially abandoning him, but it seems like being at home was awful too. So Jerome had to deal with his dad being a terrible father during probably about the first five years of his life, but he also had to deal with the trauma of his dad leaving them and disappearing. Jerome held onto that resentment for a very long time, as is warranted. And yes, John was a bad dad and disappeared on his kids, but when season 2 rolled around he truly did have a change of heart and wanted to make amends, which is the only thing keeping him from being lower on this list. You can't erase the years of bad treatment and subsequent abandonment, but he looks to have recognized that he did wrong and wants to fix them and be better moving forward, which is more than can be said for some of the parents on this list.

Patricia's parents - First of all, regardless of whether or not they are good or bad parents, it feels very clear to me that Patricia HATES her parents. And since this list is about 75% relationship with their kids and 25% how good of a parent they are, that jettisoned Patricia's parents almost all the way to the end. I'd be willing to bet that they are almost always at odds with Patricia, and that, since she's a handful, they just don't know what to do with her. And they either don't believe her, downplay her concerns, or are convinced she's always making things up for attention (probably a combination of all), because they essentially brush off Patricia's concerns when she calls them after Joy's disappearance, thinking she's talking crazy. Patricia never says her parents were BAD to her, necessarily, but I don't ever remember her saying anything good about them. Just about everything she says in reference to her parents is a negative light. Probably the biggest knock on her parents is their very obvious favoritism of Piper, whom it sounds like they raised as the golden child. They gave her all the attention, put a lot of their time and energy into her music career, and left Patricia feeling very much like the least-favorite daughter. And you know that just has to hurt like hell and also make her so very mad. She obviously still has a relationship with them, since she threatens to call their father on Piper when she ditches music school, but it's clearly not a good relationship, and she definitely doesn't LIKE them or feel respected by them. So I wouldn't say they're bad parents, but they give their daughters unequal treatment and an unequal amount of love, and tbh that's a pretty shitty thing to do. Atrocious relationship with Patricia.

Mr. Sweet - Being the right hand man of the immortality cult was already bad. And then we learned this man abandoned his son on the other side of the ocean for 16 years. My personal hatred of Mr. Sweet might bleed into this a little, but tbh I don't care. It's never made clear when exactly Mr. Sweet left Eddie and his mother, whether he left before Eddie was born or stuck around for a little bit after. If he did, he didn't stick around long, because Eddie didn't know him and he didn’t know Eddie. (Which is arguably better than Jerome where he had bad memories of his father instead of none at all?) It's also unclear what his relationship with Eddie's mother was like, whether they were married (possible but doubtful, given her different last name), or planning to build a life together, if he left without warning or had some kind of excuse for going back, if they were on good terms when he did, and also what his relationship with her is like now. (Also we don't know what he was doing in America, or when and why he decided to reach back out to Eddie and how exactly that all happened, but that's for a different post.) Either way, Eddie grew up without any kind of a father, and depending on what his mother told him, he could've hated the guy, ached to meet him, resented him, and probably every single emotion you can think of. And it undoubtedly led to a lack of trust and feeling unwanted. Not to mention that once Eddie DOES come into his life he has no clue how to be a father, and he's a pretty crap one, especially at first. On repeated occasions he acts like he hates Eddie, says he's disappointed in him (ex. the conversation in Eddie's room that Patricia overhears), and doesn't approve of him or his actions, which is not the best way to connect with your son or help him feel good (and he wonders why Eddie doesn't want to call him dad). Oh, and there's the whole "constantly putting his friends in danger" thing. And being on team evil. The ONLY saving grace here is that by the end Sweet is ACTIVELY trying to build a relationship and be a dad (I'd argue he never really succeeds at the whole being a dad part), and he seems to care and never purposefully tries to put Eddie in danger. But the two of them do not have a good relationship, I would say. And tbh I don't think Eddie should ever forgive him, after all he's done, but that's just my personal opinion.

Joy's dad (Frederick Mercer) - I feel like we sometimes forget just how awful Joy's dad was. Not only was he in the evil immortality club, he willingly used his OWN DAUGHTER for cult activities and ceremonies. Like, he essentially gave her up and said she's cult property now, intending to use her as a pawn. And he kept her locked up and isolated from the world and from her friends for MONTHS. MONTHS!!!!! And for lack of better words he was making her help them kill their friends. Like sir you have traumatized your daughter for LIFE. And it is YOUR FAULT. I have no idea what their relationship was like before all that went down; Patricia seemed to indicate that he was a pleasant guy, and even while she was locked up Joy was convinced that her dad was doing this because the others were "making him," bless her heart. Before all that, they probably had an okay, normal relationship. But tbh, none of that matters anymore. I imagine that absolutely shattered Joy's relationship with her dad. I can only imagine the heartbreak and hurt and betrayal she must've felt, especially if indeed they'd had a good relationship before, and now she probably won't ever trust him again. At one point Joy says she's trying to work on her relationship with her father, which is more than he deserves tbh. This relationship is absolutely not a good one anymore, and it may even be irreparable. The literal only thing saving him is that he at least ACTED like he cared. He repeatedly calls her darling and princess during his appearances onscreen, and he tries to assure her it'll be okay. At the very least, he cares, even if he cares in the wrong way.

And now, last and certainly least, we come to Jerome's mom. "But Liz," you say, "you're rating her worse than the two parents who were literally in the immortality club?!" Yes, and here's why.

We don't see her at ALL, but what we do hear about her paints an ugly, ugly picture. And what makes her the worst is that she does not care and does not even ATTEMPT to care. Alfie's and Mick's dads have high expectations and are hard on their kids, but they both show that they care. Amber's dad doubts her but loves her and protects her. Patricia's parents certainly have the ability to care, even if they need to reallocate their resources to BOTH daughters. Eddie's dad and Jerome's own dad, throughout all their transgressions, expressed interest in mending and building relationships with their kids. Even Joy's dad seemed to care.

Joan Clarke does not care. You said so yourself up there, anon: she refuses to help her kids with their dad in prison and never attended any of Poppy's recitals. And she sent Jerome off to boarding school at age five and left him there to rot, in Jerome's words. Throughout the entire show, I can't recall Jerome ever once saying one good thing about his mother. And he implied that his home life is bad and doesn't go home a lot, which would all be her fault, since she's the only parent there. Based on Jerome's comments and context clues, she just sounds like an unpleasant woman all around. I said this in the tags of the post that inspired this ask, and I'll say it here: I'm pretty sure Alfie has met Jerome's mom, based on clues (and if he hasn't met her, he's met her in my headcanons). In the episode with Alfie's parents, he says to Jerome "yours are WAY worse" when discussing parents, implying that he's met them. But as John Clarke is in prison and Alfie doesn't know anything about him, and also because he's definitely been gone since before Jerome and Alfie met, there's no way Alfie's met his dad. Which means he's only met Jerome's mom, and the comment was just about his mom. And if Alfie's saying it like that, you know she cannot be a pleasant lady. I'm trying to think of any redeeming things Jerome ever says about his mom, but it's difficult. Alfie makes a joke in s1 while they're "contacting Joy's spirit" that Jerome once stole Mrs. Andrews' scarf and snuggled in bed with it because he was missing his mom, but that's about it. Yes, she was technically there for her kids (unlike some of the dads on this list), but it sounds like she wasn't really there mentally. She made it clear to her kids that she doesn't care and doesn't seem to be making any effort. So if I'm Jerome, I'm going home almost never so I have to see her as little as possible [I have a headcanon that Jerome never goes home for Christmas and in fact starts going to Alfie's house for Christmas]. Because not only does he have a bad relationship with her, he has practically no relationship at all.

So, in conclusion it may be a controversial opinion, but I truly believe Jerome's mom is the worst of the parents. In their relationships with their kids, at least.

#sry anon this went in a slightly different direction to your original ask #but i had a good time going in depth with this #even though it took me FOREVER #anon #asks #house of anubis #eddie miller #mara jaffray #alfie lewis #mick campbell #joy mercer #amber millington #jerome clarke #patricia williamson

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