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burberryharold · 3 years

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hey, lovies! i’ve been so excited to post this fic because i am in love with Harry and Jules and i hope you will be too (and excuse the lousy banner i just wanted to have something lol)! this is a part of @1dffchallenges’s valentine’s day challenge, so i hope you enjoy reading it and happy valentine’s day, it’s all about spreading love around so here is some love from me to all of you ❤️

a special thank you to @fireproofrry @bodejacketharry @strawberryystyles for beta reading and giving feedback, you are absolute angels <3

word count: 7.7k

warnings: none!

challenge prompt and dialogue: strangers alone on valentine’s day + “I’m allergic to chocolate. And roses.”

It’s official, valentine’s day is the worst.

At least that’s what Jules thought as she adjusted herself on the bar stool, trying to get into a comfortable position while she waited for her drink to be served.

It wasn’t in Jules’ agenda to spend what was supposed to be the most romantic day of the year alone at a bar ten minutes away from her apartment. If she was still with Leon, they would have been having a nice dinner somewhere, laughing over whatever funny story one of them had to share about their day at the company.

But alas, Leon was someone else’s now and Jules was only left with her own company.

Truth be told, though, Jules never minded being alone, in fact, she enjoyed being by herself because people were simply exhausting.

But being alone and being lonely were too completely different things, and Jules hated feeling lonely.

And valentine’s day only made that worse. Seeing loved up couples around her, flashes of red and pink everywhere she glanced, hearing cheesy love songs blasting through the speakers of the shops she passed by. Everything about valentine’s day just seemed to remind her of her lonely status.

Instead of staying at her apartment all night long doing nothing but watching rom coms and feeling sorry for herself, Jules thought of a better alternative, which was to get pissed drunk. So when she got up in the morning to go to work (because even on valentine’s day duty calls), she put on her favourite black dress, one that was sleeveless and had a deep v-neckline, and put on enough makeup to feel confident in the way she looked before pulling on her coat and venturing into the cold streets of London.

If she was going to get pathetically drunk by herself at a bar after work whilst everyone else was being all lovey dovey, then she would look hot doing it.

The sound of a glass coming in contact with the wooden surface broke her out of her reverie and she glanced up, finding that the bartender had placed her drink in front of her and he was beaming at her. “There you go, love, happy valentine’s day.”

After squinting at the name tag (she’s never seen him here before, he must be new), Jules forced herself to return his smile and lifted her glass. “Cheers, Jonah.”

Poor guy must have thought she was waiting for a date or something. Too bad, no one was going to be joining Jules on this fine evening. Just me, myself, and I.

Setting her glass back on the counter after taking a big gulp, Jules scowled as she was reminded of the items she had received earlier in the day. For some reason, Leon thought it was a good idea to give her a box of chocolates and a rose, even though they were no longer together and he had another woman by his side.

She appreciated the thought behind it, he probably just wanted to be nice or maybe he felt guilty, but his gift was staring at her, almost laughing at her misery and she wasn’t having it.

That is why she instantly asked Jonah for a fork, which caused him to send her a confused look but he complied nonetheless, and she proceeded to stab the pieces of chocolate placed perfectly in the box, taking out her frustration on the sweets.

Once satisfied, she dropped the fork with a clunk and heaved out a sigh, lazily resting her chin in her right hand before looking back at Jonah. He was staring at her with wide eyes as he dried off some shot glasses, surely thinking that she was a lunatic, but Jules just flashed him a sweet smile and shifted her eyes back to the chocolates she had just assaulted.

Poor chocolate, but oh well.

“Are you alright there?”

“What the fuc-“ The sudden voice caused her to jump in her seat and she almost fell off the bar stool if it weren’t for the hand that magically materialised behind her, holding her steady.

Before she had a chance to slap the hand off her back, the stranger retracted it and returned to his seat and she had the chance to take a proper look at him.

The man stared back at her with concerned eyes, a stool separating the two of them, but he was still not that far away from her. Jules wondered when he had gotten there because she certainly didn’t feel him arrive. Perhaps it was during her chocolate rampage.

What really surprised her though, more than his sudden appearance, was the fact that she knew who he was. In fact, she believed everyone knew the man sitting beside her because it was none other than Harry Styles.

Many questions ran through Jules’ head, the most important being what on earth was a guy like him doing at this bar on valentine’s day? Jules never believed in the image the media painted of him, but surely he has something better to do than be here, all by himself it seems?

As big of a fan as she was, the fact that he was right before her didn’t faze Jules all that much, her mind was more preoccupied by other matters. So, she ended up doing what she would’ve done if it was any other person: she glared at him and wordlessly turned back in her seat, pretending as if he wasn’t there.

He didn’t seem to take the hint.

“You were quite aggressive with the chocolate there.” His deep voice floated in the empty bar as he pointed at the box in front of her.

Jules inhaled deeply before responding in a flat tone. “I’m allergic to chocolate.” Glaring at the single rose lying beside the box, she grabbed it and tossed it on the floor beneath her, silently cursing Leon once more. “And roses.”

She felt guilty for littering, but she’d pick it up when she leaves. Eventually.

“Are you really?” The man beside her questioned, leaning forward in his seat, his body completely turned towards her at this point. She could tell from her tone that he was skeptical of her supposed allergies and she honestly couldn’t blame him.

“No,” she found herself shaking her head, signalling for Jonah to get her another drink, still keeping her body facing forward and only glancing at him from her peripheral vision, “I’m just fucking with you.”

To her surprise, he let out a small laugh, not seeming to be upset. Jules couldn’t help but turn her head a bit to look at him, finding a dimpled smile on his and she wondered what was wrong with this guy.

“May I ask why you were stabbing the poor sweets then?”

Figuring she should just put him out of his misery and answer his question, Jules huffed and crossed her legs, not missing the way his gaze flickered down for a split second before returning to her face. She ignored it and sighed, “Well if you must know, my ex gave them to me this morning.”

“Trying to get you to take him back?”

“Oh god no,” Jules laughed at the notion, her hand waving off his wrong assumption, “he’s as happy as can be with his new girlfriend.”

The blatant confusion on his face prompted her to provide more explanation.

“We broke up a couple of months ago, he left me for someone else. So he probably just felt guilty.”

“He left you for someone else? And before the holidays?” When she nodded in confirmation, he shook his head with a frown. “Bastard.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Valentine’s day just sucks, it’s just a reminder of how lonely you are,” she muttered with bitterness, “Of how lonely I am.”

“Well if it’s any consolation,” Harry said, pausing to ask the bartender for another drink, “I’m lonely tonight too.”

“Well, obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t be here getting drunk on your own.” With a few drinks already in her system, Jules practically had no filter whatsoever (not that she really had one in the first place).

“Touché,” he clicked his tongue, then leaned back to chug down the rest of his glass. Jules was almost concerned by how quickly he downed his drink, but she’s not in a position to talk, after all, she’d been doing the same. “But I’m not getting drunk on my own now, am I? You’re right here.”

She scoffed, eyebrows raising at his words. “Who said I’m keeping you company? Or that I’m not leaving any second now?”

“I don’t think you are.” He responded with much conviction that it almost threw Jules off.

“You think too confidently about a stranger you just met.”

“Let’s fix the strangers part then, shall we? I’m Harry.” He extended his ring-clad hand and Jules noticed a coat of red nail polish on his fingers. How ironic.

She sighed before deciding to entertain him, grabbing a firm hold of his surprisingly warm hand. Maybe she’ll allow him to keep her company tonight. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to leave her alone anyway.

“Jules.” She simply responded before turning back to her drink, swirling the pink straw around. She made a mental note to thank Jonah later for the cute straw.

“Jules” Harry repeated, as if testing the name on his lips and Jules would be lying if she said that she didn’t like the way it rolled off his tongue. “Is that a nickname for Julie? Julia? Short for Juliann-“

“Juliet. It’s Juliet.” She interrupted his ridiculous ramble. He surely was inquisitive. And did she really look like a Julianne?

“Huh,” he hummed, gliding a finger over the rim of his glass, staying silent for a few seconds and Jules thought he was maybe done for the night.

She thought wrong, it seems.

“Oh, Juliet, oh, Juliet, where art thou, Juliet?” He dramatically recited, voice going deeper as he stared upwards at a spot over the bar. Simply put, Jules thought he looked ridiculous.

She could hear Jonah snickering in the background.

“It’s where art thou, Romeo, but nice try.” She rolled her eyes in response to his theatrics. Almost everyone she’s ever encountered has commented on her name and made a reference to the infamous Shakespearean tragedy that she’s never been too fond of. It’s why she mostly went by Jules.

No one’s ever recited that line though, however wrong it was. That was a first.

“I knew that,” the curly-haired man mumbled beside her, swirling his glass and watching the ice cubes swim around, “was just joking, geez, tough crowd.”

Jules couldn’t help but roll her eyes again in response. That joke got old a long time ago.

She’s beginning to regret coming to this bar tonight. Maybe she should’ve just headed straight home and cuddled into her blankets.

“It’s pretty, though,” he added a few moments later, “beautiful name for a beautiful woman”

No way. She huffed, spinning in her seat to face him once again. “That’s your line? Tell me, Mr. Rockstar, has that really worked on anyone before?”

She could tell he was a bit surprised but tried to hide it; unluckily for him, Jules was a very observant person, hardly anything passed her.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that-“

She interrupted him again and leaned in closer, resting her elbow on the countertop and raised an eyebrow. His eyes flickered for a fleeting second to the charm bracelet adorning her wrist. “So you don’t think my name’s beautiful? Or that I’m beautiful? Sheesh, Harry, you’re not looking good here.”

Harry spluttered, staring at her with eyes blown wide in panic and Jules almost felt bad for messing with him; it was just hard not to, she was lonely and he was right there annoying her with his lousy jokes, so he has the unfortunate fate of being her victim tonight (and truthfully, he brought it on himself). And if she was being honest, messing with Harry Styles was just too entertaining of an opportunity for her to pass on.

To be fair, she was a little annoyed by his presence in the beginning, having originally planned to wallow in her misery all by herself, but now she’s having fun. She might just enjoy her time with him.

“No- no of course I think you’re beautiful, y-your name too,” he responded in clear panic, seemingly trying to figure out how he can redeem himself. Jules’ attention was momentarily caught by the way his rings glimmered under the light as he flexed his fingers, still fumbling for a response. “I was just-“

“Styles,” she interrupted him, yet again, with a light-hearted laugh and shook her head, hair falling forward on her shoulders, “Relax, was just messing with you.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed and he heaved out a sigh of relief; his eyes then narrowed and he lifted his hand, pointer finger wagging in her direction. “You really like messing with people, huh? Not very nice of you.”

“Made you sweat, no? Was just having fun. I can now say that I’ve made the infamous Harry Styles stumble over his words. How much do you think they’ll pay me for that hot gossip? Reckon it would be a lot.” She said as she turned back in her seat, now facing the bar once again, but she knew he caught the smirk on her face and the teasing lilt in her tone.

Coming to the bar was definitely a good decision.

Harry felt like a proper idiot.

Here he was, sitting at a pub with a lovely woman that clearly didn’t want to be bothered, yet he had to fuck things up and be a git.

And the Juliet bit? Harry had never been more embarrassed, he didn’t know what he was thinking, or if he was thinking at all. He made sure to remind himself that he wasn’t that funny and should just stop trying to be. You’re making a fucking fool of yourself.

In spite of his rather embarrassing advances, Harry found himself enjoying Jules’ company immensely, even if she had barely looked his way when he had arrived at his spot.

She might’ve looked irritated by his insistent attempts to start a conversation with her in the beginning, but from the way her body has been facing him for the past half an hour and the smile or two she’d thrown his way, Harry had a feeling she was warming up to him.

He discovered that she was an accountant, which thoroughly surprised him because she didn’t seem like one. Harry doesn’t like to judge a book by its cover, but Jules definitely didn’t scream accountant, more like a Greek goddess or something. Her black dress hugged her body in a way that almost made Harry dizzy; he had noticed her the second he walked into the nearly empty pub – and before he could even think about it, he found his legs carrying him in her direction (he was already headed to the bar anyway, or so he told himself).

Admittedly, the way she was stabbing the chocolates had him fearing for his life for a split second, but Harry brushed it off and figured she just wasn’t a fan of valentine’s day, if her apparent disdain for the sweets and the rose before her was any indication.

He was also surprised to learn that she’d moved here from America about five years ago and this pub was one she often frequented, yet Harry had never run into her somehow despite coming here a lot and living not too far himself.

He’s glad their paths have finally crossed tonight, though.

That being said, Jules was definitely keeping him on his toes. He never knew what she was going to say next, and she certainly did not hold back from saying exactly what was on her mind.

Harry found himself liking that about her, even if her forwardness came at his expense sometimes (he couldn’t say he didn’t deserve it). Oftentimes, people acted cautious around him and treated him differently just because of his status. Not Jules, though.

But now he could tell that she had something on her mind, from the way she looked at him then shifted her eyes elsewhere a second later.

“What is it?” He questioned, deciding to put her out of her fidgety state. He wasn’t sure what was holding her back, she certainly had no problem handing his ass to him earlier.

“It’s just,” she started, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, the movement catching Harry attention for a second before he reminded himself to be respectful, “what are you doing here by yourself tonight? I find it hard to believe that someone like you doesn’t have anyone to hang around on a day like this.”

Someone like him? Harry furrowed his eyebrows, not sure what she was implying with her words but he didn’t believe she meant it in a negative manner necessarily.

“That came out wrong, I didn’t mean anything like that,” she quickly defended, face becoming redder by the second and Harry was a little endeared by the sight. The woman before him was confident all throughout their conversation, having no fear in expressing her thoughts, yet now she was the flustered one. And Harry couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Time to give her a taste of her own medicine.

“What, thought someone like me had a flock of women at their beck and call and that I’d be off with one or some of them tonight?”

He gave her a blank look afterwards, pretending that he found offence in her words and he almost blew his cover at the way her face visibly fell.

“N-no!” she exclaimed, voice rising a few octaves and Harry could see the bartender, Jonah, suddenly flinch behind her from the sound. He pressed his lips together to silence the chuckle that threatened to escape and continued to stare Jules down.

“Of course I didn’t mean it like that,” she added in a much calmer tone, though Harry could detect that panic lacing her voice and he was starting to feel guilty. “I never believed that you were like that, I just,” she paused, averting her gaze away and staring at the lights above them instead, “never mind, just ignore me.”

Harry figured that she already knew of who he was and his status, and despite having just met her, the fact that she just said she doesn’t believe the rumours about him filled him with inexplicable warmth and he had to remind himself again that he’d only just met this woman. He shouldn’t feel anything of the sort towards her.

He could tell by the way her eyebrows were furrowed that she felt bad about what she’d said, so Harry called out her name and waited for her to look at him again.

When she did, her face holding an apprehensive look, he smiled at her and leaned a bit closer, which made little difference because there was still some space separating them.

“I was just messing with you, Jules,” he reached forward and flicked her nose, causing her to instinctively scrunch her face in a cute manner that had Harry’s stomach fluttering. “Doesn’t feel that nice now, does it?”

Jules chuckled in disbelief, wide eyes staring back at him and a smile was slowly stretching on her lips. “Touché. I see how it is then.”

Harry just shrugged, his own lips twitching as another smile threatened to appear. “Just having some fun, eh?”

Jules was now beaming at him and if Harry was standing, he was certain that his knees would’ve buckled at the sight. He already knew that Jules was gorgeous, and he was sure anyone would agree with him, but when as she smiled at him like that, eyes shining bright under the warm orange lights, brown hair cascading loosely yet somehow perfectly on her shoulders, there was no doubt in Harry’s mind that there was an angel sitting before him.

“Truce then?”

Her voice brought him back to earth and Harry chuckled before he shook her outstretched hand, marvelling for a moment at the way it felt enveloped in his. “Truce.”

“But to answer your question,” Harry said after a few beats of silence, glancing at her to find her eyes already set on him. “I didn’t have anything planned, haven’t been on many dates recently to be honest, so I just figured I’d come here and spend time with my good friend,” he lifted his drink with a wide grin on his face, “alcohol, the one thing that never let me down.”

Jules threw her head back in a laugh, the sound being music to Harry’s ears and he wished he could record it just to hear it again and again. “Amen to that.”

The two clinked their glasses together, laughing stupidly for no reason, before they threw their heads back to drink.

“Another round, then?”

Jonah suddenly appeared in front of them, startling Harry a bit. Sometimes he forgot that the man was lingering around behind the bar.

Jules took the liberty to respond for the both of them, exclaiming a “hell yeah, buddy!” that had the two men laughing, and soon enough their glasses were refilled.

After taking a sip, Harry leaned his head on the palm of his hand and set his eyes on Jules again, “So, are you a fan? Of me or of the band?”

He had to ask, he couldn’t help but wonder. If she was indeed a fan, she certainly didn’t show it.

Jules shrugged, playing nonchalant it seemed, but it didn’t escape him the way her cheeks seemed to redden. “Eh, I dabble. You’re alright.”

Her response made him chuckle. “Good to know.” Call him a narcissist, but he really wanted to know whether or not she liked his music. Perhaps he’ll inquire further later.

Because Harry knows that there’s no way he’s letting Jules go anytime soon.

Getting to know Harry was fun.

Sometime during the night, Harry had migrated from his seat onto the bar stool beside her, their thighs brushing against each other every now and then.

Tapping his fingers around his glass, Harry’s rings clinked against it and Jules couldn’t help but be slightly captivated by the action. She wasn’t one to stare at anyone’s hands, but she had to admit that Harry’s were fascinating to look at; his long and slender fingers, adorned by a number of his infamous rings, were truly a sight to see.

She took the chance to also admire his outfit, something she was too busy to do earlier on. His coat was long discarded on the stool beside him, which allowed her eyes to run over his figure. His upper body was covered by a plain white t-shirt with the word “Sex” displayed on his chest, a pair of pair of wide-legged black pants covering his long limbs; it was a simple fit yet it made it difficult for Jules to take her eyes off him. And his hair just looked so soft that her fingers were begging her to touch the fallen strands on his forehead.

Hearing Harry clear his throat broke her out of her trance and Jules realised from the smirk that stretched on his lips that she’d been caught in the act.

She tried playing it off, as if she hadn’t been shamelessly checking him out for the last couple of minutes and smoothed her hands down her dress, adjusting in her seat because honestly, her butt was starting to ache.

But she didn’t want to leave just yet.

Seeming to notice her discomfort, however, Harry downed the last bit of his drink before setting his glass down with a smack, causing Jonah, who was still lingering around them, to shoot Harry a warning glance and a low “careful!”, to which Harry smiled sheepishly before turning to face her again.

“Want to get out of here?”

Jules’ eyebrows shot upwards in surprise, having not expected him to want to continue spending the night with her.

“Sure there’s nothing else you’d rather be doing?” She couldn’t help but question, still struggling to grasp the fact that he still wanted to be around her. Her hands were fidgeting with the hem of her dress, eyes staring into his emerald ones as she waited to hear his response.

Truth be told, she was enjoying his company far much more than she had anticipated and she didn’t want to part from him just yet.

To her relief, a dimpled smile adorned Harry’s face as he took in her words before he shook his head, “Trust me, Jules, there’s no one else I’d rather be with tonight.”

She’d be lying if she said her heart didn’t skip a beat at that.

The two got up from their seats after thanking Jonah and fighting over who’s paying because Harry insisted on paying for her drinks. As she was gathering her things, she felt Harry’s presence behind her and she realised, after looking at him over her shoulders, that he was holding her coat up for her.

Heat rushed into her cheeks at the gesture, finding it sweet that he was helping her when he didn’t really have to. “Thank you,” she whispered, turning to him with a smile after feeling him adjust her hair.

His only response was a faint “No need” and he quickly turned to shrug on his own coat, the bashful smile on his lips not going unnoticed by her.

Flashing Jonah another smile, Harry extended his arm towards her and nodded his head towards the exit. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

The two stepped into the night, the biting London air hitting Jules’ cheeks immediately and she was positive her nose was already red from the cold.

Jules reached into her pocket to grab her phone, realising that she hasn’t checked the device since she walked into the bar. There weren’t any notifications that she missed, which wasn’t surprising since her friends (all four of them) were out on dates or staying at home with their partners, so she was sure no one was thinking of her at the moment.

Noticing that it was already 8 in the evening and they were aimlessly walking down the street, Jules turned to Harry with a questioning gaze. “Where are we going?”

Leaning his head down to look at her (or perhaps to be closer, Jules wasn’t sure), he paused, seeming to think, before shrugging his shoulders. “Dunno if I’m quite honest.”

Jules found herself chuckling at him. How did her day end with her walking around with no purpose with a man she’d just met?

She looked at the sign closest to them before she turned to him and did something she rarely ever did. She found herself inviting him to her apartment because they were quite close.

A smirk found its way onto Harry’s lips and she started to regret her decision. “Already trying to get me into your bed, Juliet?”

She mentally cursed at the way her heart leaped upon hearing her name roll off his tongue. Almost no one called her Juliet anymore, except for her parents when they were being serious, but she found herself wanting to hear him say her name over and over again.

Shaking her head at the thought, Jules reached her arm out and lightly slapped his shoulder. “Oh come off it, you idiot. You can just go ahead and cry alone in your mansion if you want.”

Harry raised his hands in surrender and muttered an apology, although the smile lingered on his lips and Jules tried to ignore the fluttering feeling in her chest.

“Lead the way, then.”

“Make yourself at home, I’ll get us something to drink.”

The walk to her apartment was full of smiles and laughter. She’s come to the conclusion that Harry loves making people laugh, even if his jokes were actually awful, but she found it endearing; he was like a ray of sunshine bringing joy to those around him.

She was glad that she had cleaned up the place a couple of days ago, it would’ve been embarrassing to have someone over to see pyjamas and junk strewn over her furniture. Suffice to say, Jules was a bit of a mess around the house.

After hanging up her coat and Harry’s, she made her way into her kitchen and looked for the good wine she reserved for special occasions. She easily grabbed it, along with two glasses, but then Jules found herself lingering by the kitchen island.

It dawned on her that there was a man in her living room, and he wasn’t just anyone. This was Harry Styles, someone she’d long admired and holy shit was this really happening?

And as sad as it may sound, she’s never felt this connection with anyone before, never felt like the person before her got her and could keep up with her. Yet with Harry, it felt different, and that scared her because she’d only just met him a couple of hours ago.

And he was bound to forget all about her after tonight. He’s just looking for some company, and Jules didn’t think she was that special. Eventually, he’s going to leave. Just like everyone else.

Feeling like the black marble of the island was starting to swirl in her vision, Jules snapped out of her thoughts and sucked in a deep breath before moving back towards the living room.

Harry had his hands interlocked behind his back, perusing through her record collection and it made her inadvertently smile. She was proud of her vast collection of vinyl records, a good portion of them handed down to her by her father; they both had a deep appreciation for records that her mum often made fun of them for.

“Found anything you like?” He jolted at her voice, not having noticed her presence behind him, but then his shoulders immediately relaxed.

Turning towards her with a wide grin, Harry gestured to the shelf behind him. Jules liked the way he seemed to glow underneath the dim lights and she wished she could take a picture of this moment as a keepsake. “This is amazing, there are records here that I couldn’t even find.”

“You can thank my dad for that,” she told him, making herself comfortable on the couch but not breaking eye contact once, “he’s been collecting them for decades and I’m so glad he let me have some, like you should see his collection back home, it’s even more impressive.”

“Hope I’ll get to someday.”

His response caught her off-guard. Before Jules could react, Harry’s teasing voice carried through the room.

“You dabble, you said?” He smirked, turning the Fine Line record in hand to show her and also nodding to the space that held One Direction records. Jules groaned out loud and flopped against the back of the couch.

“A little yeah. Sue me.”

She blushed under his amused gaze, a little embarrassed that he’d found her collection of the band’s records and his own solo music.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, dimples adorning his cheeks, “think it’s cute that you’re a big fan.”

“Don’t know why that makes me cute but okay if you say so.” She mumbled under her breath, realising that he heard her when he chuckled.

“Mind if I put on something then?”

Jules shook her head, signalling for him to go ahead while she poured their drinks. Soon afterwards Stevie Nicks’ voice filled the silence and her lips tugged up at the choice.

The couch dipped beside her when Harry sat down, the scent of his cologne invading her senses. Jules doesn’t think anyone has ever smelled as good as him, but she chose to keep that thought to herself and instead handed him his drink.

A few moments of silence passed after he quietly thanked her, Stevie’s voice the only thing that can be heard.

“So,” he started, throwing an arm on the back of the couch, a shit-eating grin on his handsome face, “would I find any 1D posters if I went into your room?”

“Oh fuck you.” She threw one of the cushions at him, smiling at the way he threw his head back in laughter.

Jules did not mind his company at all.

“Hold on a minute,” Harry straightened up from his previously relaxed position on the couch, “you all work together and you see him and his new girlfriend every day?”

“Yup, you can imagine how fun that is.” She loved her job as an accountant, having always been fascinated with numbers, but she hated having to see him every day in the office across from hers.

It’s not like she hated him, they actually ended on good terms, all things considered. Leon wasn’t bad, he never cheated on her, but the feelings between them just died out, a flicker of something that dwindled into nothing. So, they were friendly with each other and that’s probably the reason why he brought her a box of chocolate and a rose.

But Juliet just didn’t like the daily reminder that she was in fact much lonelier than he was; it’s like rubbing salt in the wound.

“Shit, Jules, that must be hard,” he frowns, leaning forward to pat her hand, “I’m sorry you have to go through that.”

“It’s not that serious,” she mumbles, feeling heat rushing to her cheeks at the simple touch and she mentally cursed herself. She had sworn off men for the unforeseeable future. “I’m over him. You know, I actually think I was never really in love with him to begin with.”

“Why’d you think that?” He questions, his thumb still softly caressing her hand; Jules wasn’t sure if he was aware of that or was absentmindedly doing it. Either way, the touch warmed her.

“I think,” she started, setting her glass of wine on the coffee table so she could sink in further into the couch, the move unintentionally bringing her body closer to Harry’s. “I think I was just happy to have someone around, someone to spend time with. I’ve spent a lot of my life alone and I think I just clung onto him because he kept me company.”

A few beats of silence passed before she continued. “That makes me sound horrible, no, it’s not like I used him, I did enjoy his company and we had a lot of fun together, but I think I was just in love with the idea of him, not him.”

Harry nodded his head, leaning back and mirroring her position, “I understand. That’s how I felt in most of my relationships actually. I longed to have someone around so I wouldn’t be lonely, but I’ve learned over the years that having company doesn’t mean that you won’t feel lonely.”

“You sounded pretty heartbroken on your last record though.” If she wasn’t as inebriated as she was, Jules would have probably had some filter and wouldn’t have said that.

Luckily, Harry chuckled in response and relaxed further into the couch, retracting his hand from hers (she instantly missed the warmth), but he didn’t seem upset. “I was. I would say that I was actually falling in love with her, so I was a bit of a mess when she left me.”

His words made her frown. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t know how anyone could leave you.” She muttered under her breath, forgetting that she was usually louder than normal after she’s had a few drinks.

“Could say the same thing about you.”

With her cheeks flushed, Jules forced herself to look him in the eye again. “You don’t even know me.”

“But I’d like to get to know you.” He almost instantly shot back, resting his chin on his hand and his dimples made an appearance, “I think you’re very interesting.”

“Pfft, me? Interesting?” She laughed, waving him off with her hand. “I am anything but.”

“That’s not true!” Harry vehemently denied, sounding almost offended at the thought, which admittedly made Jules’ heart skip a beat. Just a little.

“I’ve spent a few hours with you now and I can already confidently say that you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met,” his eyes shone bright as she stared into them and she could somehow tell he was being sincere, “and trust me, I’ve met a lot of people.”

Dramatically placing a hand over her heart, Jules flashed him her biggest smile. “Oh how special that makes me feel, I can just die happily now.”

Even though she was being melodramatic, his words did cause Jules’ heart to flutter. In the past, some people told her she was annoying, or brash, and some others would make her feel invisible and undeserving of attention.

Harry, though, was unlike anyone she had ever known. From the moment they met, Harry made her feel like the centre of his attention, never once ignored her or brushed her off, even when she was taking the piss; his emerald eyes were always set on her, giving her his undivided attention as he listened to every word that came out of her mouth.

Jules was definitely not used to that.

Harry threw his head back in laughter, a sound that Jules found to be a beautiful melody, and gazed at her with those bright eyes. “Oh you’re insufferable, I take it back.”

She gasped in feigned shock, crossing her arms with force. “No backsies.”

Another melodic laugh left Harry’s mouth and she couldn’t stop the smile forming on her lips; right then and there, Jules decided that his laugh was one of her favourite sounds.

“Backsies?” He echoed, his tone still laced with laughter, “what are you, five?”

“Shut your pretty mouth.”

“Oh so you think I have a pretty mouth?” His smirk caused his skin to flush and she cursed herself for saying those words. She really needed to think before she spoke, something her parents always reminded her of.

She recovered quickly, bringing her glass closer to her mouth. “I mean, it’s fine, your lips are a little on the thin side but-“

“Heyyy now,” he protested, pink lips forming a pout and Jules definitely thought about kissing them at that moment. “That’s not nice.”

“Never claimed I was nice now, did I?” Jules smirked, feeling a sudden surge of confidence as she took another sip from her drink.

Jules did not miss the way Harry’s eyes seemed to darken just a little, his jaw tensing as she continued to stare him down. Harry leaned forward, mouth opening to respond when suddenly a shrill tone burst their bubble.

Patting the couch cushions, Jules was trying her hardest to forget the look on Harry’s face as she searched for her phone. Stop it, Jules, he’s an international rockstar and he won’t even remember you after tonight.

She sighed in relief when her hand made contact with the device, but that quickly turned into a groan upon seeing who the caller was. Looking back at Harry, who was leaning against the armrest simply staring at her, she shot him an apologetic look before she answered the call.

“Hey, mama” she closed her eyes, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Not that she was expecting anything to happen between her and Harry, but the mood was definitely ruined now.

“Hello, honey, how are you? Are you home yet?” Her mother’s calming voice sounded from the other side of the line, making her smile a bit despite the interruption. Ever since the breakup, her mom made sure to call her frequently to check up on her, even though Jules insisted that she didn’t have to.

“I am home, mom, yes,” she responded, shifting her gaze back to Harry who was now leaning his head against the back of the sofa with his eyes closed.

“Good, good. Just checking on you, cariña, how was your night then?”

“It was fine,” she paused for a second, not sure if she should mention meeting Harry now, but she decided it was best not to, “had a few drinks then went straight home. Think I’m gonna go to bed in a few actually.”

She could tell by the way Harry’s lips twitched that he was awake and listening.

“I won’t keep you up then,” some noise was in the background and she heard her mother whisper to someone, “okay, honey, good night! And your dad says good night too.”

“Good night, mama,” Jules smiled, finding herself suddenly missing her family that she hasn’t seen since the holiday season. “Tell dad I said good night too, and that he better spoil you today.”

Her mother’s laugh ringed loud on the other side, “We’re going to dinner tonight, cariña, and he even got me a large bouquet of my favourite roses! Joseph shh- Alright then, bye bye, sweets, love you!”

“Bye, mama, love you too.”

A few seconds passed after she ended the call before Harry spoke up, head tilted to the side. “That sounded sweet. Does she check up on you often?”

Jules hummed in response, resting her head sideways on the sofa so was mirroring his position. “Especially after the breakup. She just worries too much about me.”

“I don’t think she needs to,” he shot her a gentle smile, one that made her want to wrap her arms around him and bask in his warmth, “her daughter’s a very strong woman.”

Not finding any words to say in response, Jules continued tracing Harry’s features, lazily admiring the slope of his nose, the curve of his brows, the sharpness of his jawline; everything about the man before her was mesmerising.

Turning her gaze back to his eyes, Harry flashed her another smile before sitting up straight, the smile slowly dropping. “I should probably go now, it’s getting late.”

Jules immediately wanted to shout “no!” and ask him to stay, but the rational part of her mind told her that she shouldn’t, that she would only set herself up for heartbreak when he finally leaves her.

So the only thing she could say was a faint “Okay.”

As they stood up, it seemed like Harry was holding back from saying something, but she didn’t know if she was just reading too much into things. It was probably just her hazy mind (though she’d argue her head has never been clearer)

They silently made their way to her door, Jules feeling deflated at the prospect of his departure. Would they keep in touch? Would she just become a distant memory, a miserable woman he spent a lonely valentine’s day with?

“Can I-“ Harry abruptly stopped in his tracks, causing Jules to almost run into his back because she was trailing behind him. His demeanour was suddenly all shy when he turned to face her, cheeks flushed crimson.

Jules waited with bated breath and wide eyes for him to continue, heart beating loudly in her chest.

“Can I have your number?”

Relief washed over Jules and Harry visibly relaxed at the bashful smile on her lips. Jules didn’t know why he was so nervous, but the sight was so endearing to her.

She added her number after he handed her the device, secretly smiling at her contact name Juliet x. She already earned herself an x after her name after a few hours? Jules’ heart was beating so loudly she feared Harry would hear its calls for him.

Jules watched him put his shoes on, wishing the night wouldn’t end so soon and wondering if it would be too forward to ask him to stay longer.

Deep in her thoughts, Jules didn’t register that Harry was standing in front of her, bodies close enough that the scent of his cologne engulfed her senses once more.

“I should go now.” Harry whispered, leaning down and wrapping his arms around her and Jules had never felt so whole. She’s heard about Harry’s incredible hugs and now that she’s experiencing it, she never wanted to let go of his warmth.

Harry broke their embrace much too soon for her liking, but not before peppering a gentle kiss on the side of her head. “Good night, Juliet.”

Say something. Don’t let him leave. “Good night, H.”

And then he was gone and Jules was left on her own once more.

After staring longingly at the closed door, as if he would suddenly appear behind it, Jules sighed and made her way back to the living room, slumping against the couch cushions and wishing Harry’s arms were around her again.

Her phone dinged on the coffee table, signalling the arrival of a text. A simple “Hey. I really enjoyed tonight. H” was staring back at her.

Jules contemplated for a few seconds, heartbeats picking up their speed again, before she whispered “fuck it” and clicked on his number.

“Juliet?”

Deciding to go after what her heart wants for once, Jules didn’t hesitate to respond, “Do you want to-“

But an insistent knock interrupted her and Jules wanted to scream at the intrusion. Who on earth would be knocking at her door at this hour?

“Harry, hold on just-“

She takes frustrated strides to the door, ready to yell, but the sight behind it made her anger immediately evaporate.

“H-Harry? What are you doin-“

“What were you going to ask me?” He interrupted, sounding a little out of breath and she wondered if he ran all the way back to her apartment.

Feeling emboldened by his return, Jules took a few steps towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands immediately grabbing her face and pulling her closer, their lips joining together in a gentle yet eager kiss.

Jules felt her body melt in his hold. Their kiss only lasted for a few seconds before they pulled apart, still lingering so close that she could taste his wine-stained lips.

“Stay?” Jules asked, rubbing her nose against his, her heart thudding in her chest as she waited for his answer. Her words carried more weight than she had intended them to and she hoped they wouldn’t scare him off. But her worries vanished when she felt him smile widely against her lips.

“For as long as you’ll have me.”

Maybe valentine’s day isn’t so bad after all.

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it and please come talk to me about Harry and Jules and tell me your thoughts!

#1dffvalentine #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles x ofc #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic

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stoicaswang84 · 3 years

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Fun facts about Bulan, Libulan, Sidapa, Haliya and Mayari in Filipino myths

Fiction inspired by or based from precolonial Filipino mythologies, in a way, help preserve our ancestors' myths. Unfortunately, there are people out there who are spreading Filipino mythology-inspired stories reeking of modern concepts as actual precolonial myths either due to ignorance or a deliberate act to further personal biases or self-inserts influenced by the folly of identity representation - to make it look as if the very modern sociopolitical movement they are forcing into society was already a thing during our ancestors' time; take modern gender sensibilities, for example. Even worse are those who fetishize the myths. It's also lamentable that there are artists who spread poorly researched artwork on precolonial Filipino mythology and beliefs. These only confuse and misinform those who are new to Filipino mythology, doing further damage to what remains of our ancestors' myths. Centuries of colonization almost wiped out these myths and, sadly, today some of our own people are finishing what the colonizers started. With that in mind, let me present some facts to debunk the misconceptions some people are insinuating about the myths on Sidapa, Bulan, Libulan, Haliya and Mayari.

The Bulan/Libulan and Sidapa love story

The love story of Sidapa and Bulan or Libulan, that resulted to insinuations that they are "queer" deities with Bulan or Libulan being tagged as “patron god of homosexuality” is nothing but a modern fabrication. The tale is a hoax peddled online as actual precolonial Philippine mythology and belief. There aren't any old documents to prove that such a narrative is part of precolonial myths nor is the story featured in any oral tradition. The story is also borderline pedophilia. There are people who justify the narrative as a result of "evolving myths" or that it could be considered as a modern myth when in fact it is nothing but a certain group of people forcing their modern identity politics into our ancestors' myths. These people don't really give a damn about the culture behind our ancestors' myths. What matters to them is their own "culture" which they are projecting into the myths. They're warping indigenous myths to conform with their own agenda, with their own culture just like what the colonizers did. I guess facts are irrelevant when a narrative is being pushed.

Sidapa

Sidapa was first recorded in Miguel Loarca’s Relacion de las Islas Filipinas (1582), a report about the archipelago and it’s people. During Loarca’s time the people of what is now Arevalo District, Iloilo City and neighboring villages believed that Sidapa was responsible for the length of an individual’s lifespan and that he had a huge tree up Mt. Madiaas in Antique Province. On the said tree he carved a notch every time a person was born to set the length of the said person's life. According to Loarca he got such info through the natives' songs about their deities and ancestors, which they sang during communal gatherings, communal work and even during mundane tasks. There is no mention of Sidapa having an affair with a fellow deity. Also, he doesn’t mention Sidapa being revered in neighboring Visayan islands.

In the Diccionario Mitologico de Filipinas, there is a theory that Sidapa (the name particularly) must have been originally Sri Pada, a name identified with the Hindu god Vishnu. It’s not that far fetched considering that belief in Sidapa was only among the coastal people of precolonial Iloilo and some parts of Antique who were mostly descendants of Hindu Srivijayan migrants. There’s no mention of Sidapa in the Hinilawod or Sugidanon, epics of the inland and mountain people, the Sulod or Panay Bukidnon of Panay Island in Western Visayas. Blumentritt doesn’t mention Sidapa having any affair.

Sidapa appears in the Tagalog tale “Why the Cock Crows at Dawn” in Damiana Eugenio’s The Myths where said deity is portrayed as a war god who turns a servant into a rooster after failing to wake him early in the morning many times. There's no mention of Sidapa having an affair with another deity.

In Jocano’s Outline of Philippine Mythology (1969), Sidapa is a female deity with a husband and lives in a place called Kamariitan. Again, no mention of Sidapa having an affair with a moon deity.

Bulan & Libulan aren't deities

There aren't any evidence that explicitly cite Bulan and Libulan as lunar deities revered by the natives back then. Even the title "patron god of homosexuality" is nothing but a modern embellishment resulting from the Sidapa and Bulan/Libulan love story hoax.

There’s no such thing as a Bulan deity in precolonial Bicolano myths. In 1754, Fr. Marcos de Lisboa published the Vocabulario dela lengua Bicol, a dictionary of Bicolano words, terms. It contains entries on Gugurang, Aswang & other supernatural and mythical entities but no entry on a youthful male moon deity. It has an entry about the moon, just the moon as it is.

Bulan as a deity is even absent in Fr. Jose Castaño’s Breve Noticias acerca del origin, religion, creencias y supersticiones de los antiguos Indios del Bicol, a cultural monograph on ancient Bicolanos published in late 19th century.

In the original written record of the Bicolano epic Ibalon – included in Castaño’s Breve Noticia – there is also no mention of Bulan as a deity.

In Ferdinand Blumentritt’s Diccionario Mitologico de Filipinas (1895), there is no mention of a Bicolano deity named Bulan.

The only mention of Bulan - as a primordial entity representative of the moon - is in the Bicolano creation myth included in H. Otley Beyer’s Ethnography of the Bikol People (1923).

Libulan, on the other hand, is from an old Visayan creation myth titled "How the World was Made" from John Maurice Miller's Philippine Folklore Stories (1904).

Libulan as a deity having some sort of an affair with Sidapa was shown in the television series Indio where Sidapa expressed admiration to Libulan (a female character in the series).

Thus, claims of Bulan, Libulan and Sidapa as queer deities from precolonial Filipino myths are nothing but the result of a hoax fooling a lot of people who are new to Philippine mythology and folklore or the deliberate act of a group of people to further their own agenda.

The misconception with Haliya

Unfortunately, the so-called masked goddess of the moon who battled the moon-eating bakunawa in Bicolano mythology is not really a moon goddess nor a lunar entity. Haliya was originally halea (pronounced as hali-a or halya), an ancient Bicolano women’s game, which involved singing to the moon as described by Fr. Lisboa in his Vocabulario dela lengua Bicol (1754). Unfortunately, years later, scholars misinterpreted Lisboa’s description and wrote it down as a song-dance ritual to drive away the eclipse-causing bakunawa. This misinterpretation was adapted and further embellished by later works particularly in Bikol Literary History where halea is portrayed as a moon goddess battling the bakunawa.

There is no mention of a goddess called Haliya from the various writings of Spanish missionaries who documented the culture, ways of the natives of Bicol nor is there a documented oral tradition about such a goddess in various ethnographic works from later scholars. Why are there numerous mentions of the bakunawa - the creature the goddess Haliya supposedly battles with - from old writings and oral lore but never a mention of a Haliya moon goddess? Well, that's because there never was a Bicolano moon goddess named Haliya.

Mayari or Kulalaying?

Contrary to popular belief, Mayari is not the actual Tagalog goddess of the moon, it's Kulalaying (Colalaiyng in Spanish) a.k.a. Dalaga nasa Buwan; as documented in the Noceda-Sanlucar Vocabulario de la Lengua Tagala (1754) and the letters of Felipe Pardo, former archbishop of Manila (1686-1688). So, yeah, some anito/diwata worship revivalists today have been paying reverence to the wrong Tagalog lunar goddess, no thanks to those flowery, poorly-researched posts about Mayari online. Imagine Kulalaying rolling her eyes every time someone posts about Mayari with the following modern embellishments "Goddess of Combat, War, Revolution, Hunt, Weaponry, Strength" with her being reduced to just another name for Mayari.

Mayari is from F. Landa Jocano's Notes on Philippines Divinities (1968). Unfortunately, on some of his entries on Tagalog deities including Mayari, Jocano forgot cite any source for them nor did he mention if he got their myths from oral tradition. Even after the entries were incorporated into his book, Outline of Philippine Mythology (1969), sources for some of the Tagalog deities including Mayari were not cited. Mayari is probably derived from Apo Namalyari or Malayari, the supreme deity of precolonial Sambal, Aeta and Kapampangans on the Zambales range. Some Aeta communities in Zambales still revere Apo Namalyari to this day. Even the story of Mayari and Apolaki (Tagalog god of the sun and war) fighting over who should rule may have been derived from the battle for supremacy between Apo Namalyari, also known as a moon god and Sinukwan or Aring Sinukuan, the Kapampangan god of the sun, war and death.

Myths and legends were essential to our ancestors' indigenous culture. Unfortunately, many people today even modern media are treating indigenous pre-colonial culture as a mere pool from which they could fish out characters and ideas for them to appropriate to fit their biases and modern sensibilities.

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rrandomtthings · 3 years

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“Toxicity” in the BNHA fandom

[i know I tagged ships, but that’s because the ships were mentioned. This post does NOT degrade any ships that were tagged.]

So, I was heavily inspired by a post I recently saw where someone was talking about the toxicity in fandoms (specifically bnha). I agreed with the first half of their post until they decided to bash ships and become that toxicity. Rather than arguing with them on their own post I wanted to make my own post in respect to that persons opinion.

My Hero Academia is known as the most recent “toxic anime fandom.” While, of course, it has its people, many take that opinion way too far.

Warning: manga spoilers!! (Specifically ch. 285)

Why do people think that the fandom is toxic?

Let’s start off at the obvious answer, people don’t like the shipping in the fandom.

Of course, shipping isn’t for everyone and that’s completely fine!! But you would be completely ignorant to ignore that fact that shipping is apart of every. single. fandom. Not only the My hero.

The only reason why the BNHA fandom has so much shipping is because of the amount of characters there are in the show. And the lack of development some have compared to others. Claiming that people are weird for shipping the “weird ships” (I.e. gay shipping) but think it’s completely fine to ship straight pairings is completely homophobic. Don’t deny that.

People can ship whatever the fuck they want. Shipping is apart of every fandom. Why is it different in the bnha?

Another thing that angers me is when I hear people say “people in the mha fandom ship deku x nomu or deku x all might!1!!1” like,, no?? Wtf?? I’m IN the fandom and I have NEVER seen anyone ship those. Stop taking a ship one person may ship and generalize it towards everyone in the fandom. Because I can guarantee you, the average reader/watcher does not ship those pairings listed. Stop. Generalizing.

Another reason that people believe that the fandom is toxic is because of the ship wars that are definetly there. Whether you prefer Kiribaku v Bakudeku. Or Izuocha v Togachako (both of which have some sort of canonical crush interest. Stop being ignorant towards Togas canonical crush on Ochako!!) there are ship wars that exist, as they do in ever fandom!!

The biggest problem within those ship wars is the ignorance on every single side. As a multishipper, there are definitely shipping sides of the fandom that I prefer over the other. But, you can’t deny the toxic shippers on every side. Stop being ignorant and look at how people view your favorite ship BECAUSE of how people ship it.

This next point kind of drifts off a little bit, but it’s still important to recognize the stigma behind “bkdk being abusive/toxic.” If that’s what you personally believe, that is completely fine. Everyone is valid to their own opinion. But DO NOT push that agenda onto everyone or anyone. Especially if they are a new watcher/reader. Especially if you have not read the manga. I do not know how much I have to emphasize that. If you have not read the manga, do not give your opinion on bkdk. You’re just spreading unnecessary toxic information. We know that, in the manga, the two are mending their bond, even going as far as bkg SACRAFICING himself for Deku. Do not deny canon just bc you prefer another ship.

To go along with the “bakudeku (or even Kacchako) is toxic/abusive” opinion that was just stated, do not say that if you’re only saying that to further validate your Bkg ship. If he’s abusive/toxic in one ship, why isn’t he in any other?? At the end of the day, for the most part, he treats everyone at UA the same. Stop denying that. Stop picking and choosing. If you’re gonna insinuate that he is toxic, then he is toxic with everyone. Stop. being. ignorant.

Shipping aside, remember that not everyone has to like your favorite character. Personally, my favorite is Deku. It is more than obvious that Deku is not everyone’s favorite. That’s completely fine though!! As much as it does suck to see so much Deku hate, as long as it has a valid reason from CANON, then I respect that opinion. But don’t be surprised if people debunk your opinion if it’s because of shipping or bc the reasoning is really dumb (I.e. “deku is a crybaby!1!1!.” etc)

Another thing people do is go onto other people’s shipping posts or character posts and say “that’s cute but___ is better.” Or that’s cute but I don’t ship it.” Huh??? No one asked?? Stop it. Either leave a comment ABOUT the post and the post only or just like it and keep going.

It’s important to talk about fake rumors that are created in the fandom and how people take them to heart. Most recently, there was the rumor that Horikoshi cried while creating ch. 298. While that is of course harmless, it’s still important that we stop spreading those types of rumors. Another very popular rumor is that “Horikoshi said that he’s gonna make ____ ship canon!1!” Horikoshi has never talked about any ship in any interview. This has been debunked many times. Stop spreading the false narrative.

One of the biggest things I wanna address is the people who harass Horikoshi, which is absolutely terrible and is something that needs to stop. This is HIS story, not yours. Stop with the petitions, stop with the harassment.

However, its so important to recognize that this happens in every fandom. This is not only a My Hero thing. In every single fandom, there are shippers. There are ship wars. There are people who don’t like your favorite character. There are (sadly) people who threaten the creator. Stop saying BNHA is the only one. Because compared to other fandoms (I.e. Voltron who sent cupcakes with glass to the team) we are relatively calm. The BNHA fandom isn’t as toxic as many people think, so stop being ignorant and spread the false narrative because the only people who say that it’s toxic are the people who 1) stepped foot into the fandom for .5 seconds 2) hate the show. If it’s not your thing, then just ignore. Honestly, those who hate on the fandom are more toxic than those who are in it.

#bnha #mha #bnha meta #my hero academia #bakudeku #kiribaku #kacchako #togachako #bakugou Katsuki #deku #bnha 285 #jeez I haven’t written a meta in months #pls don’t let this flop this took me an hour and a half fjsiovosicj #long post

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boogiewrites · 3 years

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Never Break the Chain Pt. 2

Part 2 of 5

Characters: Javier Peña x OFC

Summary: Javier and Esme's first time seeing each other in almost twenty years. A photograph leads to an obsessive hunt for the woman he thought was dead. They both find they got where they wanted. But is it what they want now?

Warnings/Tags: Tension. Big reunited kiss.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

Time passes, as it always has and always will. It stopped for no man, not even Javier. Seeing his first love fade into nothing had left him a different man. Walls came up, barriers were built that his enemies would even be impressed by. She’d done him a favor, snapping him out of the young man’s dream, but he felt he had nothing left but trying to help once she was gone. So he threw himself into his work.

Sure there were other women. He thought he loved some, but would always leave them. He always hurt them and that wasn’t his intention precisely but they would thank him years later. He was what they would refer to in close company as “a dodged bullet”. He’d been called far worse.

He despised his cliche reactions to his trauma sometimes. Drinking, smoking, being a general pain in the ass, renowned and proud asshole was easier. Burying yourself in prostitutes and let them take away the thoughts for a little while was the easiest. He would fantasize he could help them, even save some of them. He surely wasn’t getting his hero complex stroked when it came to his work. He had a soft spot for women, he had learned the hard way the shit deal they’d landed when they were born. He couldn’t do much...but he could try to help. So he did. Loss after loss he kept trying. This was that bit of good Esme had always believed in. He wasn’t sure how much longer he would have it so he made the best of it while he could.

The night before was nothing knew, an old habit at this point for him. He went out and got a woman, he’d pour every bit of good in him into her, convincing himself he still had it. He’d make them feel good, listen to them, things that were in short supply in their lives from men. He could be that good guy exception, if only for a short while. It felt nice to not be looked at with disgust or fear. The slivers of affection kept him going after dark. He’d leave them breathless, moans turning to laughs as they dressed, joking they might not make him pay. But they always took the money. And he offered it with no judgment, pulling his jeans on and halfway through a highball glass as his lean outstretched arm offer up their compensation for making him feel something good and push out the bad thoughts for a short while. He could be making worse decisions.

He rubs his temple, suppressing a groan as he slid his way into the uncomfortable chair at the beaten-up metal table. The chatter of his coworkers all making their way into the room was grating but nothing he couldn’t ignore. Morning debriefing, something he gave a shit about. Well, work was the one thing he gave a shit about right now, hyper-focused on the clock and trying to drown out the obsession off the clock. It was a dynamic that he was still trying to perfect. He downs the hot black coffee in his hand and nods at the secretary just outside the doorway, “Get me another, sugar. No sugar.” he winks and sends her off. She side-eyed him and went on her way, that was just Pena to her, horny but harmless. He cracks his back, a grunt before landing his elbows on the table to focus, the overblown commander coming in with a handful of photos, spreading them on the table as they talked about what they always did, the cartel.

Pena tries to approach everything individually, but there was only so much range these guys had, and not seeing them all as one giant collection of piss ants with assault rifles was something getting harder and harder to do. So as new and old names were said, he watched the board fill out, the line attaching known connections and new ones. There had been a new wave of intel, something Pena and his partner Murphy were used to being the ones doing, but he wouldn’t complain if someone else finally wanted to sack up and their fucking job like they were supposed to.

“So we have our old friends,” a slap of photos to the board. “Then there’s a new round of boys coming in.” he taps the newest addition to the board. “Seems we’re getting inbred with the other families, the jewel smugglers, the miners...seems we’re trying to venture out and expand our already impressive portfolio.” he snorts.

“They can never just be fucking satisfied with their millions.” someone groans and complains.

“It’s a good chance try to take them down too.” Murphy shrugs.

“Eyes on the prize, kiss ass,” Pena says quietly, accepting his coffee without a second glance. “Do we know these women?” he asks with a nod in the direction.

“Typical.” Murphy rolls his eyes.

“No. Our assumption is prostitutes. Nothing new there.” the commander goes on, but he quickly becomes background noise as Pena stands and moves toward the board. He stood, hips jutted forward, eyes scanning, hand over his mouth in thought. Once he saw the new pictures he hadn’t heard another word the men had said. “PENA!” barked his way grabs his attention as he casually shifts his attention.

“Mmmph. Yeah.” he mutters, eyes moving back to the board.

“I was informing you, you’d be doing street intel on these newcomers.”

“Yeah,” he says disinterested, thumbing his lip before placing his hands on his hips. “Do we have these photos in color?”

The question catches the room off guard. “Why?” he’s met with annoyed opposition.

“This woman…” he taps the photo of a woman with a sly smile on the arm of a very powerful man. Dark waves teased and a heart-shaped face buried in a fur coat collar worth more than he made in a year. He clears his throat. “I’ve seen her before…”

“They’re whores Javi, of course, you have.” Murphy leads the room in a wave of amused hums and chuckles.

“No I’m serious,” he says with no inflection, catching his partner’s attention. “Do we have a location on them if there’s no color?”

“Why’s color important?”

He’s quiet for a moment, jaw tense and eyes blinking, baffled at what he was allowing himself to think. “Her eyes… were green.” MUrphy readjusts himself in his seat, watching Pena’s eyes carefully. He could swear they looked sad.

“What information we’ve got is here.” the commander points at the table with its thick manilla envelopes.

Javier nods with no spoken response, staying in place until the room is empty except for a hesitant Murphy who approaches him. “Who is she?” he asks quietly.

He shakes his head in response. “It can’t be her,” there’s a heavy pause, “But it...fuck it looks like her…” his voice trails off and Murphy is left with more questions.

“Well, are you gonna answer me or just write poetry about her Javi?”

“She’s…” he sighs and sucks his teeth. “She’s supposed to be dead.”

“Did you-?”

“No… no… nothing like that.” his voice still quiet. “I knew her… fuck...over a decade ago now.”

“So we can add hunting ghosts to our agenda now too. Great.” Murphy takes it lightly and presses his lips together. He stares at Javi, his eyes dark and focused. He was left with more questions than answers. His money was still on it being a hooker. It’s not as if Pena had even talked about Esme since the investigation when he was young. His partner may have his back in life or death situations, and they may have been close, but no one knew about her. Pena had hoped to keep it that way. He hoped he was wrong. He hoped it wasn’t her. Because if it was… well he didn’t know what he’d do.

---------------------------------------------------

Esme didn’t know it but with every minute that passed, she was being proven right about her belief in her first love, that if he knew she was alive, that he would find her.

Esme had ran, a bug out bag down the river and no trace left behind. She made her way south over the years, learning her craft and making friends in the right places. She’d started with rich men, especially rich white men trying to make a living off exploiting her fellow man in Mexico. It had been almost too easy. They thought nothing of her and wore her as if she were a watch; on their arm and shiny and proof of their wealth. She would gain access, gather intel and then sweep in and take the goods and ghost out.

Esme had been legally declared dead and was now living as Estelle. She had so many names over the years but her current incarnation was Estelle. And she was a star. She’d become what she wanted, she was rich and self-reliant. She needed no one and had her fun as she craved it. There were men and women and drugs and jewels and for so long it had been a pleasant hazy dream. But the novelty of it wore off, she grew bored, a witness to her hypocrisy, growing soft and lazy with her indulgence. When she emerged from her haze and saw the state of the world around her she knew things had changed. Narcos now ruled the world. The government bowed to them, the poor worshipped them. She saw they were the future, the new leaders. And for her, that meant that’s where she had to be.

She found herself once again sharp and full of adrenaline. Her new role took real savvy and cunning. Otherwise, she’d end up dead for real. She cozied up, working for Narcos to steal for them. It wasn’t hard in skill, but it was in the amount of sexist shit she had to deal with. She’d killed men for laying hands on her, and worse. She’d pulled knives and guns and made frown men piss themselves as she threatened them with words they’d never heard women utter up to that point. Most of the leaders would laugh until they cried after the fact, seeing a woman act in such away. She entertained them. They underestimated her, saw her as some novelty pet that fetched things and entertained them. She could handle that. As long as she got paid.

Following the groups, making her way around it made sense she found herself in Columbia. She knew it was dangerous, but she was addicted to it. It filled the void of sex and drugs for her for the most part, although she did partake among her peers from time to time. She thought it made her admirable, independent, and a shining example of what a woman could be if she had the nerve to do it. She was, to a degree, but she was also wrong. She lacked the softness in her life anyone, not just a woman needed. A void where no love or trust or intimacy was in her life she filled with material things and lists of her accomplishments. if she kept busy and looking ahead she wouldn’t be still king enough to face her demons.

Except she was about to come face to face with her biggest one.

—

As was his way, Javier had become a bit obsessed. He had to know if this woman was Esme. He’d been tracking her and was able to have DEA level observation to do it. It was a personal mission he’d been able to spin to look like a cartel one. There was a connection, she was seen with them, but little was known outside of that. After he’d put the word out for the beautiful woman with green eyes it hadn't taken long before someone scorned by her leaked information on her next job. The informant knew what his boss wanted to be stolen and when she’d be there. Normally no agent or cop would care to pay attention to her, or some jewels being stolen, she was just some woman to them. But serendipitous timing made sure she became THE woman for one of them.

She practically waltzed into the store. She scaled a fence, a wall and came through a window but for her, that was practically begging her to steal from them. The rooms were dark, silent except for the sounds of her feet as she made her way into the back, unseen and unbothered. It wasn’t until she’d stopped to admire her score before snatching it they the clicking of a gun behind her caught her attention.

He’d waited in the shadows, and none too patiently. With the aim set to intimidate, not kill, he Easter no more time. “Who are you?” It came out as an order.

Her head snapped up, back still to the faceless voice she felt was all too familiar. She blinks, the former goal now removed and replaced with a flood of emotion. She remains silent, her turn to be shocked like he was when he saw her face in the photos.

“Turn around.” Another order. The voice was deeper, darker now but still made her feel the same way.

She turns, and painfully slow. She doesn’t meet his intense gaze immediately, reading his body language first and calming her racing mind. There’s no way it was him.

There’s no way it’s her, his mind reassures him. But as soon as her eyes raise to meet his his stomach drops. He was right.

“Javi?” It was almost a whisper, for the first time in she couldn’t remember when she didn’t hide her emotions in her face.

The gun falls first, his sense falling to the wayside as it slipped into its place in the back waist of his jeans. His frame was broader, still lean moves towards her with an earned confidence now. He doesn’t speak, staring at her as if she might not be real. She gives him his time. He’d earned it. “It really is you.” It was his turn to let the veil fall, dark eyes shining in the low, cool light.

She nods. “Javi I can explain.” She begins, prepared to apologize and ask forgiveness before asking him why the hell he was there at all. They were a long way from home.

“You’re alive.” A rather obvious statement that made her smile. It was all he could handle.

“I can explai-“ a quick burst of words before they’re cut off by his mouth landing against hers. She hadn’t expected this. She was prepared for many things last but not this, at least not for him to be kissing her. “Javi my-“ she tries to get out but his hands are already on her cheeks, hot and damp and certain. She lets her concern fade for a moment, it would all be fine. She gives in to it, lets him take the lead, and pull her against him roughly. The anger and hurt coming through in his grip on her back and face as they kissed breathlessly. He stole her focus without trying, there was the signature huff from his nose, the nuzzle into her between separating to catch his breath but he felt different. But so did she.

Where they once held differences in certainty they now held the opposite. He kissed her like he just found out his first love was alive after decades of vices to cover the loss. Because he had. Every woman and experience he’d had between her and now, every skill and thus gained confidence was clear and apparent. This was not a boy handling a girl. He was a man handling his woman.

And there she was, blindsided and touch starved, passion and intimacy starved being devoured by the only man she’d ever truly loved. The only man she’d ever let in and see her for what she was. The only man that knew Esmeralda. It was a raw and painful ache that emanated from her chest as she clutched her hand around his wrist and the other gripped his shirt in her hand. She gave in because she knew it wouldn’t last long, and after it was over she’d miss it.

With eyes squeezed shut, his forehead pressed to hers, his statuesque nose gently rubbing against hers he exhales hot against her face. “Esme…” he pulls back and holds her face, demanding her focus.

“It’s been so very long since someone’s called me that.” she sighs and puts her hands on his forearms.

“Since I called you that?”

She nods and smiles, face pressed into his hand.

“Maybe it’s about time people called you that again.” he pauses and looks her over with a hard brow, he couldn't hide his simmering anger underneath the confusion, relief, and affection. “Where the fuck have you been?” She sighs in response. “Why the hell are you HERE?”

“Same as you. Work.”

“Why are you with those men? Don’t you know who they are? What they do?”

“Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?”

“Why Esme?” his eyes water and his hands squeeze her face a bit too tightly before a wave of dizziness hit him.

“Same reason now as then,” she whispers, his grip loosening and not hearing her response, she slicks his dark hair back as his eyes start to roll around in their sockets. “You're fine, Javi. Seems you fell for my defense mechanism.” she smiles and he looks at her, starting to slump. “To be fair I didn’t know to expect you. You’ll wake up soon enough. It’s only temporary.” she wipes the culprit of the sudden wave of forced unconsciousness he was going through, her lipstick off his mouth. He was out quickly, and she spent some long moments exploring the now aged face of her once wide-eyed companion. “You are even more handsome than I thought you’d be.” she coos and kisses him after dragging him into a chair and pushing it into a corner so he wouldn’t fall. “It now inevitable we’ll meet again. My old hound dog.” She chuckles, a kiss to take in the scent of his hair before she parted ways. “See you later, mi amor.”

-----------

Peña awoke to a boot knocking against his knee and an odd headache. It was pitch black outside by now, people on the streets outside none the wiser to the life-altering experience he’d just had.

“Are we blacking out in stores now?” Murphy snarks and shakes his head, leaning against a door frame.

“That’s not...I’m not…” Javier shakes his head, rubbing and tapping at the pulse in his skull.

“Then what the hell is it?” He can hear the judgment in his partner's voice.

“If I told you you would think I was crazy.” he groans and sits up with his back straight in the chair, one cocked brow looking over to the man staring him down.

“And I don’t now?”

Peña huffs out a laugh. That was a fair assessment. He’d think the same thing. He looked across the room, the glass case he’d found her standing in front of now empty. “She took the jewels.” he switches the subject, an arm raised lazily and collapsing against his lap after.

“Were they made of cocaine? Why do we give a shit?”

“It’s not the jewels that are important. It’s the woman that did it.”

“A woman? Huh. That’s something you don’t see every day. That is… a little bit crazy I guess.”

“That’s not what’s crazy.”

“Am I gonna have to fuckin’ waterboard you man, just tell me.” he groans.

“That woman I told you about... that stole those... she's been declared legally dead for almost twenty years.” he finally says with a defensive tone and a face that said don’t fucking try me to the man still assessing his sanity with no attempt at hiding his negative prognosis.

“Oh.” Murphy contemplates looking away to the empty case. “That... yeah okay that is crazy.”

@jaegeeeeer @likedovesinthewnd @inkededucatednnerdy @biharryjames @ladamari68 @past-romantic @weliketomoveit

#javier pena #Javier Pena Fanfic #javier pena fic #javier pena fan fic #javier pena x reader

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leah-halliwell92 · 4 years

Text

Romanian Rhapsody

Summary: Almost two years before Dracula awakens, Dr. May Van Helsing is abroad gathering her own information on the legendary vampire. Years have passed since Jonathan Harker’s visit to what should be the ruins of Castle Dracula. Years since the village people have spoken or even warned anyone away from it. What will May find the deeper she digs into the Count’s home?

Previously:

May shrugged not knowing what to think, “I don’t know and right now I don’t have time to worry I’ve to undo what she and her team have done to my domain.”

Sam and Raven shared a look but understood where she’s coming from so let her be. It had been two years so there are things that need to be put to rights.

Chapter 1 – Chapter 2 – Chapter 3 – Chapter 4

Chapter 5

A couple of days later, May found herself breathing a sigh of relief as she slumped backwards on her chair. Because she’d finally managed to get all the records and files in order, the physical files were all in their respective homes, the more sensitive ones have been put back in their locked cabinet, for these she made a note to change the locks and keep the spare key close.

Raven and Sam had been running themselves ragged along with her when it came to not only organizing the archives room but also the area in general. Just as lunch rolled around, Sam and Raven walked in take away bags in hand.

“I know you don’t condone eating real food in here but I’m in no mood to deal with the likes of one Dr. Jack Seward today,” Sam said as she took a seat in one of the spare chairs in May’s office.

“What did he do this time?” May asked as she picked up the containers that were respectively filled with wonton soup, white rice, stir fried vegetables and Mongolian beef. Luckily the trio likes the same Chinese food, sharing between them is no issue.

“You know that girl from accounting?” Sam asked with a hum.

Raven and May nodded at this as they began to eat.

“The little bugger decided to bad mouth me in front of her and now she refuses to go out with me,” Sam seethed as she too served herself a plate.

The trio sighed heavily at this.

Jack seemed to make it his life mission to drive them mad whenever they don’t do as he orders them to. He had Zoe around his finger, Bloxham is cow that has her own agenda, and the rest of the foundation bar a select few follow his lead as if it were the most natural thing in the world all because of what she and her friends do for and in the foundation.

“Why the hell did I decide it was a good idea to have a crush on him?” May groaned.

“Because at first glance he is smart, looks to be sensitive, is cute and so happens to work where you work,” Sam listed off nonchalantly.

Raven nodded agreeing with Sam’s list before saying, “And then he let his colors show, saw an in to the archives through the crush you have for him and abused that thinking he could get away with it.”

“Which lead to me leaving for two years to move my delusional ass on from this pointless crush,” May said with a shake of her head at her own naivety.

“Don’t,” Sam said voice firm.

“What,” May said with brows raised.

“It’s not naive to hope,” Sam said still firm, “It’s not naive to want to have something good in your life and it’s not naive to hope to find it where you work...i.e where you spend most of your time as it is.”

May nodded numbly taking in what her friend had said. Sam’s right, to be naive is one thing and to be hopeful is another, it irked her some to see she still needed to learn the difference between the two.

The trio continued to eat in silence enjoying the when Raven groaned nearly spilling her food as she did.

“What?” Sam asked curiously.

“Did you both forget what today is?” Raven asked incredulously.

May and Sam exchanged puzzled look the latter giving their friend a shrug.

“Its Valentines Day weekend,” she said still shocked that she’d forgotten.

May groaned loudly as Sam looked like she at the canary.

“Zoe’s probably not going to be here for too long,” Sam said knowingly.

“The foundation will pretty much be empty bar the stupidly thin skeleton crew,” May added with a nod.

“And I need to get Eva something,” Raven said with a sigh.

“Hey do you still have that coupon I gave you for that place down the street from me?” Sam asked as if she’d gotten the best idea of the year.

Raven nodded with a blush.

“Let’s go and see what they have then,” she said with a wiggle of her brows, “You’ve been whining about not having a proper toy to have with your wife for ages. Maybe it’s time for that dream to come true.”

May laughed at the look on Raven’s face and said, “Come on Rae, you know she’s right.”

Raven huffed a laugh and nodded along with her friends.

The day progressed with a buzz that hadn’t been there before for May. It now carried with it an energy she wished she could ignore. Alas, she’d do as she’d always done and keep moving forward.

She was on her last break of the day when Sam sent her a text that both Jack and Zoe had been to the archive and taken with them a couple of files each to the cage floor. A welcomed and appreciated heads up from Sam May had to say. That’s how the dance went between Zoe, Jack and her. Avoidance is the best factor, or so they have said.

She went to her office her break no over to see which files were missing. She rolled here eyes at the selection and wrote them down on a sticky note to take up with her when it was her turn to grind the midnight oil. May didn’t like working nights, she hated it, but it beat seeing the lust sick fools on the streets trying to flirt their way into her bed. No matter how many times Sam has sad a one night stand is not bad idea depending on one’s mood.

May spend the rest of the afternoon compiling the pieces she’d gathered from her study of Castle Dracula to be added to the already existing file originally put together from what the late Mr. Harker had told the nuns at the monastery. She’d found she had to correct somethings here and there but most of the stuff already on file fit the information she’d gathered. She’d thought about giving Zoe their great-grandmother’s notes and diaries but decided against it. Because as much as she wanted to blame her death on Dracula, she felt there was more to this than what they’d been led to believe.

Jack had been down here and there trying to charm files out of her. Having had enough she’d rejected his advances and demanded he go through the proper channels to gain access to the files he was requesting. The pinched look on his face told her enough. But like hell would she be cowed because he didn’t like it when people told him no.

“Don’t you need a slice of humble pie,” Sam said as she sauntered in looking more than ready to leave the foundation for the night, “Zoe sent me to tell you she’s looking for you.”

Jack seemed to have an uncanny resemblance to Percy Weasley with how he glared at Sam but did as bid and left.

“You sure you want to stay?” She asked May once Jack was out of earshot.

May nodded and said, “Better here than out there. Stupid prick wants to use my crush for him to get what he wants when Lucy is doing just that.”

“Except unlike Lucy, you won’t spread your legs for just anyone,” Sam said knowingly.

May grinned at that and nodded.

“Seriously though, are you sure? I could cancel and we can have a night laughing at violent slasher movies?” Sam said worried for her best friend.

“Don’t worry about me Sam,” May reassured, “Better here where there is quiet than out there. Plus if Zoe needs me I’ll already be here so I won't have her nagging about not doing my work.”

Sam nodded not convinced but let things be. She bid May good night and made her way to the elevator to head home. She saw Zoe and Jack talking quietly to each other on her way out.

“She needs to do as she is ordered,” she heard Jack say derogatorily, “She’s a pencil pusher there to give us the files we need and put them back.”

“She’s more than that Jack–”

“No Zoe don't give me that,” he snapped, “You don't even believe that yourself and you know it. She’s nothing but a glorified secretary.”

Sam stopped at that and turned to face the couple.

Zoe caught the heated look Sam was sending them and at least had the decency to look ashamed.

“She’s your sister,” Sam said voice ice cold, “You’re supposed to defender against pricks like this like she's done for you on so many other occasions. Do you really doubt her so much that you’d fail her in this manner?”

Zoe paled at this knowing Sam is right before finding a certain spot on her shoes very interesting all of the sudden.

“And you,” she said looking to a now nervous Jack, “What’s the matter? Can’t have the one you want so you bully the one that’s had it for you since we began working here? How much more cowardly can you get?”

Turning back to Zoe she said, “You know it’s times like this when I realize that even Ted Bundy would have been a good bloke to date for your sister compared to this clown, good night.”

00//00//00

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xlady-saya · 4 years

Text

take what you want [fic]

Relationships: laila/alvarez

Summary: Laila has come a long way from her freshman year, past all the worries and pressure to behave a certain way. She never thought she’d realize it here, lounging poolside with her girlfriend.

The urge to seduce Alvarez is just too good to let go.

Tags: fluff and smut, inappropriate use of tanning oil, written for the aftg summer event on twitter

Read on ao3!

"You're too polite."

The voice is smooth, and sends a shiver down Laila's spine. She's not sure why. Maybe it's because it sounds like it's right next to her ear, the clearest sound she's heard in the last forty-five minutes.

She forgot she was a person for a second there. No one has bothered to address her as one.

The registrar's office is a cramped, square room with one way in and out—and to make matters worse, the AC decided to take a day off on this excruciating Los Angeles summer afternoon.

The office is packed with students in the same boat as Laila, flowing in and out to retrieve their ID cards and USC lanyards. She'd been excited at first; she'd settled into the dorms, and her first Exy practice was later in the evening. It had only been a few days of walking around campus and finding her classes, but she already felt like a full fledged college student.

The excitement of getting her ID, a true symbol of this, had died upon entering the office. The line had been long, but it was also hardly a line.

It seemed more like giant clusters of students broken up by the occasional space, and over time, she no longer knew where it started and where it ended. Several people walked in and cut the line completely, and others who had waited less time than her would walk out with their IDs in hand. Laila's aggravation has been steadily growing, but she remembered her manners, her respect. She wasn't sure how any of that translated in a big city like LA, but it was how she'd been raised in the midwest.

Her parents would be disappointed if she caused a scene, and how embarrassing would that be, anyways? She told herself she could wait, that she had plenty of time.

Then, the voice jolts her out of the haze of squabbling students and staff members, and she jerks in the direction of it. She doesn't know it in that moment, but any hope of having manners in the future and preserving that polite attitude are dashed and spat on with the introduction of this girl.

The first thing Laila notices about her is how tall she is. Laila cranes her neck upwards, and is met with big, brown eyes. They go lidded in that moment, picking out something in Laila's green ones that Laila isn't aware of yet. She blushes anyways; she knows when she's being teased, made fun of. The girl's got a few inches on her, at least, with dark brown hair and skin that's already well acquainted with the strong California sun. Not pale like Laila, not ghostly. She doesn't seem like the type to wait here all day and let people cut her in line, judging from her ability to criticize complete strangers out of the blue.

Laila sputters indignantly, biting her tongue before any comments can come out. Not like they'd be well formed. Her mind is swimming, and she feels like a stereotypical jock then. Absolutely no brain cells.

The girl chuckles from the reaction, watching Laila's mouth open and close like a puppet. Laila can tell when she's being sized up and scanned, but she doesn't get the purpose. Normally, she'd never say no to attention from a hot girl (and yes, she begrudgingly can admit this rude ass is hot), but there's nothing impressive about her today. That's not what this is. All she has on her is a duffel bag with her Exy equipment haphazardly sticking out. She's wearing USC lounge pants that she already managed to stain with her ramen noodles earlier, and a ratty tank.

If it's the Exy the girl is fixated on, Laila wants to reassure her. It's a violent sport, but Laila's a goalie. She's not the one to start fights, so there's no reason for this girl to be looking her up and down like this.

Part of Laila feels like she has to return the scrutiny, like maybe it's some kind of local ritual, but she can't get past the girl's neck for one reason alone.

She already has her red and gold lanyard, with her photo ID hanging right off of it.

Gabriela Alvarez.

Goddammit.

Finally, she finds her voice.

"Excuse me?" she forces out, strained and a touch too bold for her tastes.

Alvarez doesn't respond right away. To add insult to injury, she instead looks over to where another freshman walks into the office, casually bypasses everyone waiting (including Laila), and is handed their ID and lanyard two minutes after giving the receptionist their name.

The. Fuck.

Sighing, Alvarez looks all too happy to have made a point.

"You've been standing here for ten minutes, and I've watched three people cut you in line like that," Alvarez says, inspecting her nails. They're cut short and neat, Laila's mind tells her, rather unhelpfully. How she didn't notice someone like Alvarez prior is beyond her.

Regardless of that, the truth of the statement irritates her further. She knows it's pathetic, she knows it's not fair, but—

"What would you have me do?" she asks, huffing. She jostles her duffel over her shoulder and hits the wall, making her jump. And all the while, more people walk out with their lanyards.

Alvarez's lips turn into a frown, like she can't figure out if Laila is serious or not. Laila hopes being new in town is an excuse, but she has a feeling it isn’t. Alvarez shrugs one shoulder, and to demonstrate, barrels through the throng and back again. She makes it seem effortless, and ignores all the perturbed stares she receives for it. Then, she's in Laila's space again, towering, tempting. "Shove them, tell them to piss off, I don't know," she says, a clear challenge. The insinuation is there: whatever it takes to not be pushed around.

Laila sputters, mostly to get her mind off the fact that her body quite likes this idea. She's always had a bit of a temper, but she’s managed to keep it under control whenever it chooses to flare up. She never once considered the possibility of not holding it back. "That's so—"

"Rude?" Alvarez interrupts, voice sickeningly sweet. Laila glares harshly, but it doesn't stop her from waving her lanyard in Laila's face. "But which one of us got what we wanted, huh?"

And what is Laila supposed to say to that? She wants to spit 'fuck you, bitch,' but even she knows when she's been had. Laila's anger and pettiness deflates, and unbeknownst to her, a piece of the old identity she'd been forced to cling to has already fallen away.

Alvarez taps the kneepads poking out of Laila's bag, and this time, her smile is a tad sympathetic.

"See you at practice, small town," she says, and promptly walks out. It's only then Laila realizes she's wearing an Exy team jacket, name printed in large gold on her back.

Laila looks down at the buttons on her bag to figure out how Alvarez knew about her home, but promptly realizes it's simply written all over her.

Whatever, she thinks petulantly. This interaction will mean nothing in the grand scheme of her years here.

But as she thinks about it for the rest of the day, that statement feels less and less secure.

Staring at the bare skin of Alvarez's back calls the memory to the forefront of her mind, for whatever reason. Maybe it's the weather.

The heat of the California summer doesn't go away, regardless of where they are. But here, inland, it's practically desert country. It's so much worse. That's why Laila had been adamant about waking up early to go lay by the water, dragging her girlfriend with her at the crack of dawn to go lounge while the rest of their teammates slept. The nights spent in motels for away games are some of her least favorite, but at least there's the pool access. It's significantly cooler and empty on top of that, but the humidity begins to tease the air. It'll be scorching in a matter of hours, but Laila loves to fantasize about the mild climate she was promised all those years ago.

She groans as she spreads out, and her bikini doesn't even feel like it's doing the job of making her less heated. She curses as she slouches, not a trace of manners left in her.

Nothing ever turns out as expected, she reasons. But it's not all bad. Climate aside, she managed to turn a beautiful, unruly rebel into her beautiful, unruly girlfriend.

And perhaps she's a bit of a rebel herself now—something she can pin on Alvarez only a little. As a result of too many rowdy friends and teammates, and the gradual erosion of her capacity to give a fuck, Laila has come quite a long way.

It's satisfying to know that these days, no one would dare call her a push over. It feels comforting, and much truer to herself. Alvarez usually doesn't allow it, but Laila wishes she could thank her more for that. For the last push.

Honestly, there's probably a lot of reasons she recalls their first meeting right then, apart from her genuine feelings for Alvarez and the threat of the sun above.

She certainly doesn't feel polite right now.

Alvarez is sitting on the end of Laila's lounge chair, hair pushed to the side. The haphazardly tied bikini string is something Laila often nags her about. One wrong move and it'll come undone completely, but right now it just seems to taunt her. It wouldn't take much, she thinks, to lean forward and grant herself more of a view.

She brings her foot up to rest on the middle of her girlfriend's back, and Alvarez doesn't even flinch. It's common for them to drape themselves over one another for lack of anything better to do, but this time Laila's mind has a less than innocent agenda.

She uses her heel to follow the path of the faded moles on Alvarez's back, dipping down until she reaches the beginning of silvery stretch marks. She always says they look like the branches of a tree, and Alvarez has thought more than once about getting a tattoo for the purpose of pronouncing them with clean, inky lines. Laila thinks of them dotting her hips, disappearing beneath the low riding sweats Alvarez likes to wear around the dorms.

There's a heat already coiling in Laila's abdomen, and the thought doesn't help to diminish it. Bringing her girlfriend with her wasn't the best idea for cooling off, but it's too late now.

She bites her lips and thinks back to her old urges to not rock the boat, to not put herself in situations that could cause a scene. Oh, she's come far indeed.

She’s drunk on the feeling, and she throws a look back at the row of motel rooms. All the blinds are closed, and it's certainly too early for anyone else to be awake...

Shivering, Laila scoots her butt to the edge of the chair and begins to feel the fabric of her swimsuit more than she should. She's hyper aware of the material, of the stretchiness as it rides up against her.

Alvarez is still staring out at the water, the morning exhaustion not quite shaken off yet, and Laila takes the opportunity to rub herself through her swimsuit. It's a brief, light touch, and it doesn't do much for her. But there's a thrill of excitement at her idea, at the stupidity of it. They're basically out in the open, but...

If she knows anything about her girlfriend, it’s that she has even less self-control.

"Gab," she says finally, and tries to keep her tone innocent. She must not be very good at it, because her girlfriend turns to her with suspicion written all over her face. Yes, the squint is not from lack of sleep anymore. Still, Laila bites her lip to keep her smile at bay. She taps her foot playfully against Alvarez's lower back, and adjusts herself just so in the seat. She knows it makes her suit ride up, and Alvarez's eyes track the stretch of the fabric deliberately. "Come here."

A sweet, normal request, but Alvarez's expression sharpens. Like that day in the office, her eyes find something in Laila's that tells her all she needs to know. She's always had a weird knack for reading people. It used to be unsettling.

Now it's the exact opposite, and Laila meets her gaze confidently. Alvarez's eyes flick over her, then back up once more, and she effectively comes to the correct conclusion based on something in Laila's body language.

"You're poking a dangerous animal, you know," she warns, but there's amusement drenching every word. She looks up at the rooms behind them, narrowing to follow any sign of life or indication they're being watched. Then: "You're aware that there's hotel rooms right behind us?"

Laila nearly rolls her eyes; after three years, Alvarez has to know her likelihood of feeling ashamed is dismal. She's more jealous than anything. She doesn't want anyone seeing Alvarez like that, but the idea that if someone did see, all they'd see is her ability to absolutely take Laila apart—

That's too appealing to pass up.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she answers, sighing as she leans back. She spreads her legs a little more for good measure, and Alvarez tries her best to avoid staring. It's too bad her alternative is Laila's chest. "Maybe I just want to hold your hand."

To emphasize, she reaches out, and Alvarez meets her instantly. Their hands lace together, and she feels the roughness so indicative of a backliner. Okay, so she wanted to hold her hand too.

"Sure," Alvarez huffs, but swings their hands a little anyways. "You're not that discreet anymore. What happened to my innocent small town girl?"

It's Laila's turn to laugh; she has a feeling she was never innocent deep down, but Alvarez brings the mischievous side of her out now more than ever.

"You're still just as infuriating," Laila throws back, but it's all smiles and maybe even a little dreamy. It's embarrassing, but she's never been ashamed of her feelings. They've been called disgustingly sappy by just about everyone on the team (minus Jean and Jeremy, who definitely have them beat and they're not even dating yet), and Laila's proud of it.

Sensing it, Alvarez crawls forward between Laila's legs. They both ignore the worrisome creak of the chair as their lips meet for a kiss, and allowing herself to be pulled into Laila’s scheme is Alvarez's fatal mistake.

Alvarez smells a little like chlorine from the jump she took when they first arrived, and her lips are salty when they stick to Laila's. She's not sure what it is about today, but the feeling of bare skin in front of her, radiating warmth, sends her back to messy dorm room kisses and tentative touches in the dark. She doesn't waste time opening Alvarez's mouth to hers, and Laila's tongue slides against the metal piercing in Alvarez's. She sighs from the coolness, and reaches up to hold Alvarez's chin in place while she plays with it. She loves how the piercing feels; it's like it glides along her tongue, and she's reminded of all the other places it's been. Alvarez, ever impatient, coaxes Laila closer until her nose is pressed into her cheek, kissing her deeply enough to evoke the whimpers the backliner adores.

The moan it manages to pull out of Laila is wispy and faded at the edges, like a stream traveling straight into Alvarez's body. Laila feels Alvarez's shiver flow from head to toe.

The heat between Laila's legs is getting impossible to ignore, and her abdomen tenses from the need to do something about it. It's at that point Alvarez tilts away, keeping Laila at a distance with her hand.

She really stands no chance now.

"I try," Alvarez pants, clearing her throat. The usual confidence is gone, replaced with blown pupils and a strip of red over the bridge of her nose. Laila enjoys the conflicted look on her face too much, the furrowed brow as she weighs all the variables. It's awfully considerate for someone who gets into fights every single game.

Alvarez throws her a playful glare and snaps the string of Laila's bottoms. "Someone really could see us..."

Laila leans back, arches a brow.

"Yeah, and couldn’t you just tell them to piss off?" Laila fires back, and Alvarez stares up at the sky as if asking the universe for guidance. She's the one who's always been brazen, yet she hesitates with things like this. It's cute, but Laila has enough experience to know it doesn't last long. Her girlfriend is easy to seduce, easy to rile up. After all, she's got the sex drive of an athlete, and Laila is all too happy to match the enthusiasm. Plus, it's fun to push when she knows Alvarez wants her just as much.

And that's when she notices the bottle of sun tan oil lying on top of her towel. She hadn't needed it yet, had brought it as a precaution, but now she's grateful for the foresight. She smirks slightly as she reaches for it. She and Alvarez had been dorm mates for a few months before dating, and Laila had the accidental pleasure of seeing the porn history on her computer more than a few times. Her girlfriend is not the most tech savvy.

She could poke fun at Alvarez for years, but in the moment her pervy tastes are a great advantage. Laila grabs the tanning oil and waves it in front of Alvarez's face, adoring the way her eyes widen. "Help me?"

Alvarez looks like she wants to whine in frustration; she can't win in this situation. Laila's smirk widens, knowing they're both about to get exactly what they want, and Alvarez snatches the oil out of her hand.

"Give me your towel," her girlfriend says roughly, and Laila's in no position not to comply. Alvarez's voice has already taken on that heavy, low tone she loves so much. It's like a scratched record, clearing and jumping ever so slightly, and every single one of Laila's nerve endings fire just from the sound. Laila wriggles as Alvarez stuffs the towel under her, dragging her hands along the underside of Laila’s thighs for good measure. Laila jumps from the touch. She wishes Alvarez had just pulled off her bottoms already, but per Alvarez's sharp, authority laced stare, she keeps her hands at her sides. Alvarez likes to start wherever she pleases.

Laila does tug at the towel though, tilting her head just so as her girlfriend smears her hands with the oil a little too quickly. The bottle slips out of her hands a few times.

"Feeling confident?" Laila asks, gesturing to the towel, and expects the usual glare.

The look she gets instead makes the warmth pool inside her even more, burning worse than the sun. Alvarez's stare is dark and mocking—like she's looking at freshman Laila again, all innocence and manners. Not the girl who is soaking her bathing suit without even being touched, not the one asking to be fucked poolside. This is the Laila with only high school hookups to call back on for experience. This is the Laila who spreads her legs wider in anticipation of feeling things she's never felt before.

"I can tell when you're going to be messy," Alvarez whispers, and with the need for her bravado gone, Laila scoots forward excitedly. "And you call me the dirty one..."

Laila snorts, but it dies as soon as Alvarez's hands are on her. The oil is slightly warm, and she shivers when Alvarez starts with her thighs. She disregards Laila's arms and shoulders in another act of predictability, which are arguably the more important places to shield from the sun.

"You are," Laila sighs, but her heavy breathing doesn't help her teasing. "Tanning oil? Really?"

Alvarez shushes her by digging her thumbs into the thick muscle of Laila's legs, rubbing slow circles and inching towards the edge of her bathing suit. Her pale skin, tanner now from years of sunlight, is already glistening.

Alvarez's fingers dip just under the edge of the swimsuit, following the curve of the string to Laila's hips. It makes Laila whimper, because she's sure Alvarez can feel it. The heat radiates off her, and she knew she was wet, but she wasn't sure just how wet until she feels Alvarez's fingers graze the slickness. Laila's abdomen jumps and she scoots forward, hands gripping her thighs to keep herself still.

She loves the wait, the anticipation, but it's a killer sometimes. Part of her just wants to push Alvarez's face against her, feel the flatness of her tongue as it strokes...

Alvarez licks her lips at the reaction, and Laila catches the glint of her purple tongue piercing. She's glad it's staying in; it's so good against her. When Alvarez takes her clit into her mouth and sucks, it's an extra jolt.

Alvarez, not content to end her teasing just yet, moves her oiled hands up Laila's body. She tugs at the front clasp of her bikini, narrowing her eyes in the delayed realization that Laila picked this one on purpose. Laila bites her lip to hide her smile, and grabs her girlfriend's wrists to guide her hands under the thin cloth. The top falls to her side, and it adds to Laila's overall excitement.

If anyone opens their window, if anyone comes out here, there's no way Laila would be able to put herself together fast enough.

Alvarez groans, probably thinking the same thing. It doesn't stop her from squeezing Laila's breasts in her hands until they're just short of shiny. Laila adores her girlfriend's hands; the palms are large enough to cup each breast, to take them into her hands whenever she feels like it. During movies when no one is paying attention, when Laila sits in her lap and reads, at night when they're spooning...

It's a good pastime.

Here though, Alvarez isn't trying to be cute or cheeky as she leans down to circle one of Laila's nipples with her tongue. She flicks at it a few times, and Laila shivers from the cool air, arching forward in a silent plea.

Her mind is just repeating itself over and over: I want your mouth, your mouth, your mouth.

And Alvarez obliges. She pulls Laila's nipple between her lips and sucks, drawing out every breathy sigh she can. Laila knows she has to be quiet; it echoes here, but it feels too good to be completely silent. She sits up more fully, pressing Alvarez's face forward. It's probably borderline suffocating for her to be pressed against Laila like this, but they both love it. Alvarez alternates between sucking and licking while she tugs on Laila's other nipple, kneading the sensitive skin between her fingers until Laila is moaning low and sweet. The soft, wet sounds are enough to drive Laila mad, and she hates that it's getting brighter.

They can't take their time with this, though she wishes they could. This is her favorite way to come—completely untouched, with Alvarez's attention solely on her pleasure.

Her girlfriend is predictable in that she can't keep her mouth shut, but in these moments, the words pull Laila apart.

"You're so cute," Alvarez whispers when she pops off of Laila's breast, feeling along her abdomen for the particularly big scar she has there. It’s from a rough accident on the court, but Laila can't say she's insecure about it when Alvarez always strokes it like that. It's almost like she burned it there herself.

And no, Laila has never been called cute. She's a brash goalkeeper, and not sheltered in the slightest. But Alvarez makes her feel small and desperate, and she loves falling into that feeling, that role.

"You're going to come hard, I can tell," Alvarez says, and despite the deepness of her voice, it's laced with excitement. Laila might roll her eyes at the arrogance any other time, but now she just nods, delirious with the feeling. She guesses with how well Alvarez knows her body, the arrogance isn't undeserved.

She scoots forward and Alvarez pushes her back down on the chair, undoing the strings of her bikini bottoms.

Well, if there’s already no hope of them saving face if someone sees them, there’s no point in being worried about shedding more clothing. Alvarez smirks as she tosses them on the concrete, leaning down to level her face with Laila's pussy.

It might almost make her laugh; here she is, completely bare by the pool, with her girlfriend's face between her legs. She far from hates it, but it's a lot different than Alvarez pulling down her ratty sweatpants at the dorm and having Laila sweat through her hoodie.

It feels the same, though—it feels just as fulfilling in every way.

Laila grabs Alvarez's hand where it rests against her abdomen, locking them together and tightening when Alvarez takes her into her mouth. The first swipe of Alvarez's tongue has her nearly biting her tongue to keep the moans at bay. Laila is panting harshly a few seconds later, all too exposed as Alvarez looks her fill. Always watching, always admiring.

Laila has never gotten over it, the attention is embarrassing in the best way.

Her girlfriend's other hand glides between her wet folds, smearing some of her slick onto her inner thighs. Alvarez hums, and Laila chances a glance down at her when she feels her girlfriend's palm rub against her.

"I have to indulge into the entire fantasy, you know," Alvarez says, and Laila watches as she rubs the last of the oil through Laila's sparse hair. Laila sighs as Alvarez rubs her thumb over her clit, thick and just as ready for Alvarez's tongue.

The comment is supposed to be teasing, funny. But Alvarez sounds way too fucked out to add any of that; her voice is lost at sea like Laila's mind is. Laila tries to say something witty back, or maybe just a demand for Alvarez to get a move on, but then Alvarez is sucking her back into her mouth, and Laila is gone.

She throws her head back as Alvarez continues enthusiastically, like she always does. Laila can feel each warm breath, the pressure of Alvarez's face pressing against her without care for how messy it'll leave her. Her fucking tongue piercing.

It slides over her clit, following the curves and folds enough to make Laila sigh. It's so familiar, but she's never sick of it. She grabs the back of Alvarez's head and bobs her up and down, moving her just so against her.

Her girlfriend's face is a mix of drool and Laila, and when those eyes dart up sharply to her own, there's nothing but heat there.

Laila whines long and hard, and then Alvarez's tongue is inside of her, massaging as deep as she can reach. She rolls her entire neck into it, making sure to pull every sound she can manage out of Laila.

Laila wishes she could spread her legs wider without hurting herself, but it's not an option. Instead, she whispers nonsensical encouragement over and over.

"You're so good. It's so good, babe," Laila stammers, tripping up over her words. To emphasize, she pushes Alvarez into her even more, and the groan she gets is not pretty, not delicate. But fuck, if she could replay that sounds over and over she would. "Oh, shit..."

Alvarez hums, and she must be able to tell how close Laila is from how she's tightening around her tongue, from how her hips are barely able to stay pinned to the chair. Laila's legs freeze up, and she darts a hand out to grab her thigh. She's not letting a cramp ruin this, but goddamn. Alvarez's stronger, less shaky hands grab Laila's legs and throw them over her shoulders, and Laila squeezes. Alvarez moans, nodding against her, and Laila watches as her girlfriend's tongue glides over her clit, not willing to stop. It must be straining at this point, but seeing Alvarez so determined to please her, to make her come...

It sends Laila over the edge, and in the next few minutes she's tensing, trembling as the orgasm rips through her. As her girlfriend predicted, she feels herself squirt a little against Alvarez's face, and it drips onto the towel. She can't be too concerned about it when she's like this; she's hardly aware of anything at all. Her surroundings, her name...

Her entire body quivers, and she's vaguely aware of Alvarez's forearm pinning her hips in place as she eats her out through it. Alvarez is never grossed out by the sloppiness—she takes everything Laila has to offer.

Laila wasn't used to her girlfriend's ways at first, but now she gets it. Alvarez is a pleaser; this is what does it for her, what gets her so satisfied deep down...

Knowing she made Laila come so hard, that she made Laila crave her in such a revealing setting.

Laila shivers when she thinks of how turned on Alvarez must be, how badly she wants to return the favor.

Laila's clit throbs through the aftershocks, and she reaches down to rub at it, catching the end of Alvarez's tongue as her girlfriend pulls away. It's raw, empty…She misses the feeling of her girlfriend, but the cooling wetness makes her sigh.

She doesn't want to know how blissed out she looks, but she's sure Alvarez regrets not being able to snap a photo.

Alvarez leans back, wiping her mouth as if it helps. Despite being outdoors, the smell of sweat and sex is thick, and Laila fumbles for her swimsuit. When they both glance at the blinds for the hotel rooms, they're all still closed.

"I win," Laila comments breathlessly, and grins big and bright when Alvarez smiles at her. It's lazy, drunk almost, and Laila's gaze sweeps over the way Alvarez squirms.

"Ah—later," Alvarez says, reading Laila's mind as she stands up to adjust her shorts. Figures; Alvarez will eat out Laila in public, but when it comes to herself she's shy. "In the room."

Laila smirks, and it's a promise. "You're too polite."

Alvarez processes the words slowly, her brain still in a haze. Her pupils are blown wide, and yeah… Laila can't say her mind has moved on either. She's eager to get back to the room now.

But she needed her revenge.

"Coming from you," Alvarez scoffs, helping Laila up to tie the sides of her swimsuit. When she's done, she pinches Laila's thigh. "But I guess you're far from it now, you rebel."

Laila lets herself be proud of that for the hundredth time.

She adjusts her suit and grimaces when her hands glide over her own skin. Ah, right.

"Gross, I'm all sticky," she says, which is yes, way worse than being covered in sweat and other unmentionables. The tanning oil isn't the nicest, and it feels like it's starting to dry in patches. She does not approve.

Alvarez throws up her hands. "When you let me act out a porn fantasy, you can't exactly blame me for my actions," she comments, and absolves herself of all blame. Right. Laila can understand that her girlfriend is a perv, but it's her fault for provoking that side of her.

It was fun, though, minus the need for a shower.

Laila sighs, lacing their hands together as they walk towards the motel elevators. The sun has already begun to reveal itself through the clouds, promising a hot, miserable day that Laila can't wait to avoid. Still…If it means more days by the pool, she can't complain.

"Was it everything you dreamed of?" she asks with a small grin, and laughs when Alvarez jumps at the sound of the first door opening.

Alvarez nudges her, but her scowl is fake as can be. She's smiling deviously in the next moment, leaning forward to kiss Laila by the ear.

"Better."

They speed walk the rest of the way to their room, and thankfully no one is around to see.

#all for the game #aftg #laila dermott #alvarez #laila/alvarez

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tslasvegas · 3 years

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Episode 10: “I ain't gettin fooled a third time.” - Jeff

Darn it. That vote hurt. I mean it's a game, and there's only one winner, but Steph and I had a great time the last time we played, and we played well here too. But our Final 2 tag hurt us. I mean, yes, we had that agreement, but it hurt us. I had to vote her, as there was no other way forward. Even if I used my Steal a Vote, it would not have been enough. Good thing Kailyn spoke up after the vote, so they know it was her who voted with Steph and not me. Hopefully that lessens me as a target. How does Ben have so many advantages. He will be out to win immunity next for sure.

I am actually really sad that we voted Stephanie out. I think there were better options but I guess it had to happen. It’s interesting that is spread so rapidly to everyone else in the game. I didn’t speak to really anyone and yet everyone knew what was happening. There’s definitely some connections going on that I’m unaware of. But also! One step closer to making it to single digits! I just have to survive two more tribals and I’m officially a flop no more! With the Super Idol, technically I can be “voted out” once before leaving the game, if Liv still decides to play it on me. So I’m feeling pretty good about my chances moving forward. The meninist group is a solid 5 I think. That’s almost half the tribe remaining. At this point, I really don’t think there’s a path for me to actually win the game. Unless I take control and start some big moves right away. But we will see.

Okay so it's been a while, and there's a lot to unpack. Merging: In regards to the merge itself, I have very mixed feelings about how the people in the merge are, and how things generally shook out in regards to the tribe divisions. Getting sent in with an instant 7-3-3 should, in normal circumstances, be pretty damning in how an early merge goes. People have a tendency to play safe, lay low, and just ride out the game a little bit before really going for anything. As far as the people we merged with that I had not met yet: Jaiden - Really cool guy, I spend all day talking to him, shooting the shit, just having a good time. Easily top 3 people this season for me. I want to go far with him. Xavier - Kinda neutral on him. I speak to him sometimes, but the conversations do not really have much in the way of depth to him. John - Meh. Doesn't speak a ton, just kind of minding his own business. Kailyn - Doesn't speak to me much at all. We've exchanged a couple of messages, but nothing too substantial. Whatever I guess. Ben - Literally refuses to speak to me. Not sure what his deal is or why he acts the way he does, but whatever I guess. So as a basic assessment, pre F13 tribal, the people I feel best about are Jake, Jaiden, Keegan, and Joey. These are the ones that I should be able to trust, that should be able to get me farther into the game. I feel with this that I'm in a better spot than I was in my previous 2 seasons, because I seem to have alleviated the issue of only having real connections to people on "my side". In Svalbard I was very isolated with Nathan/Rachael/John, and got burnt because the rest didn't want to play with me anymore. In Finland, it felt like more of a dice roll really, but I never got going with Tom/Drew/Bodhi/Zoe, so I was the first to get burnt because my connections just weren't good enough. But now, I should have the means to protect myself on both sides, and make it farther based on that. First tribal comes around, Palazzo has numbers, things should be simple. Ben doesn't talk to people, no one has a problem if he were to get sent home. Easy enough. Andrew makes people a bit wary, but its first tribal, he's not causing any particular harm, and we can deal with that issue later. But then Andrew slips up, he tells Jake that Keegan is the one pushing his name. I'm not sure why he did this, but he did. I confirm with Jake that it was actually Andrew that threw his name out first, but Keegan and I shifted it on to Ben. Whatever, mess is made, but no one says anything, vote should still be Ben. Get to tribal.... Andrew, 9-4. Not one, not two, but three people flip on us at the first tribal, sending Andrew home, and blindsiding myself, Pat, and Stephanie. With this, we're clearly on the outs, and Keegan/Liv/Joey blatantly lied to us. We confront them about it. Get some stories of, "weren't sure how people were feeling, didn't want anything to go wrong with the vote. Andrew was causing problems". Like yeah, okay, I know that that happened, but I had already expressed to both Keegan and Joey that I had strong reservations about how Andrew was approaching the game, and didn't want to have him be in long. I didn't think he's go right away, but clearly I was alright with the idea, yet they let me out. Fool me once, shame on you. Next time, okay votes gonna be simple. No one likes Ben, he doesn't talk to anyone, he just ignores me, he's gonna go home. Fine, everyone's happy. Well of course, we get to tribal, and he plays SWOP. I knew something was up, the way he was acting just wasn't right. Andrew said he was a good player, and I knew something was up when he was just giving up and having needless outbursts. Not the type of play that you'd expect from a "good player". So okay, we go back to OG Palazzo chat. Everyone says "lets vote John". Okay fine. Pat and I get to talking, because we're both close with Jaiden and Jake, and entertain the idea of voting Steph. Figure that we can get ahead of the curve because Palazzo is a mess, set ourselves up for the future. Pat can't change his vote cause he already casted, oops. I vote and play an extra vote because I thought a tie could be risked because I can't count. Vote goes 10-2 on Steph. Yet again, Joey, Keegan, and Liv opted to not say a word about anything to Pat and I. They don't care about us. They expect us to just do what they say, go along with whatever story they tell us before bed, but I ain't havin it anymore. Fool me twice, shame on me. I ain't gettin fooled a third time. These fuckers ain't gonna walk all over us and act like we ain't actual players. If they don't want to work with us, tell us anything, then I don't need them. I'll go with Jaiden and Jake, who are much more fun to talk to anyway, and curbstomp all of them. People already took Rachael from me, I ain't lettin them get any more W's on me.

Stephanie is gone! I can't believe I made it through that cracked ass tribal council, but I used the limited information Ben was providing to me to my advantage. The moment Ben told me what was going on, I swooped to Keegan and John and told them to prepare for the worst - tbh I thought he was going to have an idol or something and we would need to throw votes elsewhere. I think Keegan was the one who said he thought Ben's got a safety without power from his statements and it made so much sense to me. When it came time to scramble, obviously I didn't wanna be the first person to throw a name out there, but once the opportunity presented itself I tossed Stephanie's name out and it basically caught on like wildfire. I told Joey first, then the Meninist alliance chat. There definitely was some push back at first from Keegan, which I'll get to in a bit, as well as I think Livingston a little bit. Then it just caught on FIRE. Suddenly Stephanie's name was going through everything it felt like and every single person was down for Stephanie. For a minute there was a brief insurgence of John names, but I think me throwing Stephanie's name out first was the best thing to happen because once a name was out there, it basically ignited the power keg and there was no way to stop it. I think it could've gone the other way had John's name gone out first tbh... It is just such a relief to have some sort of affirmation that my targets are going home. I feel a lot stronger now than ever before, almost like allowing Andrew to go over Ben last round is giving me an edge like I've never had before. Tbh as much as I dislike Ben as a player, I do kinda hate this circlejerk kind of group hate for the guy because I don't think he's done anything so bad that it makes him a bad person... maybe not the kind of guy I'd associate with in real life... but I'm sure he's chill outside of this. I also don't wanna come across like on this moral high ground where I'm better than anybody because I definitely talk a lot of shit about everyone else, but as somebody who was in the same shoes as him once, I can empathize with how it feels right now. I can empathize because when I played Tumblr Survivor starting out I definitely was really messy for the fun of it and it slowly started to become un-fun when everyone made it their mission to kinda be shitty to me. I don't know what Ben's goal is here and I'm not a specialist trying to diagnose him, but... yeah. I just feel bad that he's being dogpiled by all of us with hateful attitudes is all. ANYWAYS, back to something that matters - me! I finally survived the dreaded second tribal council of the merge. I've already beaten that part from India, now I just need to make it past the next two votes and I've made it to my first goal - single digits!! I know that I'm competing with a lot of people for single digits right now lol but I hope that people wise up and start taking care of the real threats in the game, namely Livingston, John, Kailyn, and Joey. Getting a dark round, I think this is the best thing we could've asked for because like I said before, I think Keegan was holding himself back from really pushing his agenda. I think Keegan is aware how big of a threat John is in these games, so if I can sort of use Keegan's mistrust in John against him, I might be able to swing for a much bigger target this coming round - Livingston. I kinda feel like Livingston is REALLY well-connected on this tribe, he's basically best friends with everyone from Jake to Joey to Keegan to Pat. If I want to free some of those bigger names up, I really need to go for Livingston because his position is SO desirable right now. I think people are cognizant to the danger posed by those four guys, but no one is really looking at Livingston because they love him so much. If I can somehow convince John that getting rid of Livingston benefits both of us, I might take that shot. It's going to come at a huge fucking risk though, but doesn't everything when you're playing in the dark have a big risk associated with it? Then it just kinda takes getting Ben, Kailyn, and Xavier on my side as well and then the shot is literally so close I can taste it. HOWEVER! Before I start hyping myself up right now, I have to focus on what really matters to me - getting to the end. Resume building doesn't need to start at the final eleven. My biggest error in all of my past Tumblr Survivor games is that I start playing the game REALLY hard way too early. I've learned maybe a couple lessons in subtlety along the way, so planting seeds is gonna need to be the way to go. If I start saying things like, "isn't Livingston so cool? He's basically friends with everyone" and "I would like to see Livingston win if I'm not in the end, he's a really cool guy" it'll 1) be super obvious that I want to make a move against him and 2) maybe start giving people the idea that their best friend is their biggest competition in the end. Something doesn't need to happen tomorrow. It's about the long game, too. I just hope for my sake that I'm doing enough to keep my head above water. If tonight was proof of anything, it's that this game is going to get a lot more difficult.

I can't believe that worked so perfectly. Ben does everything I tell him to do, even down to interrupting me during the challenge. He's public enemy #1, and that's another meat shield for me. Stephanie goes - truthfully I feel horrible because she is so sweet - but that's the last person who I wasn't directly aligned with. Also, the Dark Round couldn't have come at a better time. If Ben or I win immunity, I have a plan to get out another big threat. And this is one of my favorite flash games. But at this point I need to act like Ben and I aren't tight. If I make it to the end everyone is gonna hate me. Oof.

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lokisasylum · 4 years

Text

If you’re a Taehyung stan, please read this

Okay, at first i wasn’t gonna talk about this because its kind of a touchy subject, a little controversial and honestly I don’t feel like giving clout to this person. So for the sake of this post I will not even mention her name.

(No, no, wait. Don’t get any wrong ideas. This has nothing to do with Shipping Wars or the whole Tae-hates-Jimin-agenda blahblahblah.)

I don’t know if you guys have noticed that a fairly new youtuber arose with this weird AF channel, messy as hell videos and honestly people in general were ignoring her, almost little to no views and zero comments.

But what drew my attention was that in the past days (5-6 days or so), she suddenly starts mentioning Taehyung in her videos (title and all) along with L*e J*nghyun of CN//Blue. And the first thing that came to my mind was:

“Oh my god... not this shit again with the whole B*rning S*n issue and people still trying to connect Tae into this whole mess.”

Because we KNOW how hard people have been trying to create scandals out of nothing for BTS. So, of course I stupidly clicked on it to see what it was all about.

AND HO-BOY ....WAS THIS ALOT TO UNPACK...

So this girl, who is NOT Korean (could be American, but I’m not sure), Is dead-ass alleging to have not only met Le* J*nghyun through tumblr was it? (and maybe later on they kept chatting elsewhere) But that she somehow got into an ONLINE RELATIONSHIP with him for a span of 4 years. A relationship that, according to her, became toxic real quick. Making her a victim of (online) abuse by this Idol.

Now, you might be wondering: “Okay, but what the fuck does this have to do with Taehyung?”

So get this.

This girl?? Is not only claiming to have been in an ONLINE relationship with a Korean Idol that she says she met on tumblr or whatever. But she is also stating that Taehyung is a direct witness to this “relationship”. Because according to her, she and Tae have been “really close friends/best friends (ONLINE)” since 2015 and they have this “special bond/relationship” where Taehyung supposively used to call her on her cellphone frequently.

BUT NOT ONLY THAT!

That Taehyung himself tried to stop or warn her about getting into that relationship with J*nghyun. That he “called her the same day that she accepted” and now “regrets not waiting a few minutes longer” to for his call, otherwise “she wouldn’t have accepted.”

OH MAN HOLYSHIT, BATMAN!

I know!

This all sounds like some deep ass AO3/Wattpad level, Idol/fem!reader, scenario type of shit.

But wait! THERE’S MORE.

This girl is reaching SO FAR that she made up this WHOLE ASS analysis/theory stating the following:

- That Taehyung has been living with a lot of regrets since then. (Funny she would say this, when there’s a post she wrote on her twitter saying that she didn’t recognize Taehyung UNTIL RECENTLY since she “met him in 2015 [ONLINE] before he became famous” as if BTS debuted in 2015 instead of 2013. So her story is full of contradictions all over)

- That whenever he sings, he is singing TO HER.

- That all of his solo songs (Stigma, Singularity, 4 O’ Clock, Scenery and even Winter Bear) were ALL written by him, ABOUT HER and what she went through and the guilt he “still feels” for not being able “to save her”. So this “makes her happy” to know that “Tae still thinks about her all the time.” (When WE, as ARMY, KNOW that Namjoon is the one who wrote Stigma based on Demian, 4 O’ Clock which is a song Tae secretly dedicated to JIMIN, and Singularity. Whereas Tae wrote and composed the last two [Though he did needed help from Namjoon for Winter Bear since its 100% in english and he didn’t know if he had worded it correctly].)

That the reason WHY Taehyung refuses to speak of the issue is because Le* J*nghyun’s company is secretly blackmailing/threatening BTS/Bighit to keep quiet (But how could she possibly know this when she doesn’t speak Korean, has never been to Korea and doesn’t seem to have any online friends in the kpop fandom. Much less K-armys unless she’s following or buying info from sasaengs and EVEN THEN--).

But if you think that’s bad/borderline delulu???

The worse part is that she has both a Twitter and Instagram where she writes these things EVERY SINGLE DAY, AT EVERY HOUR. Talks about Taehyung ALOT and in a very creepy, almost stalker-ish matter (also, she ONLY speaks of Taehyung, she never mentions the other members by name, only BTS as a whole/group). And uses every single trending topic/hashtag she can find for the day to bring attention to her posts.

If the trending topic is TrumpsImpeachment? She’s using that.

MentalHealthAwareness? Yep, been there done that.

sexscandal and politics? She’s using those too.

EmpoweringHumanity? BreastCancerAwareness? She’s using it.

A new Anime trending?? She’s on it.

OH AND DID I MENTIONED THAT SHE IS TAGGING BTS AND TAEHYUNG TOO ON THESE POSTS?

NO?

WELL SHE IS.

*EXHALE....*

I... don’t know what this girl is trying to prove, I dunno if she’s just a regular clout chaser/anti spreading rumors/overly obsessed fan cause she is even calling herself “one of many Armys”. And I honestly found it so offensive from her part to be calling herself an ARMY so freely, while at the same time saying that she was gonna expose Taehyung and get him dragged into this scandal one way or another if he, himself, doesn’t "come clean” on his own.

And the reason why I won’t mention her name here is because this is slowly starting to blow up and a lot of people (from different fandoms and even NON-Kpop fans) have started calling her out on her bullshit while also reporting her accounts for slander. I can give you the name through private message, but not here.

So if you guys ever come across something like this or this person and it seems shady as hell. Don’t give the person any attention, just do the typical thing we do: Ignore, Report, Block, and Walk Away (If you can send a screenshot to K-armys to have them report it to Bighit, do so as well).

Don’t engage, because its very clear that this girl is hungry for attention and I’ve seen her use the “mental illness” and “race card” (since she is also a po*c) way too many times in her defense. So for all we know, she could be just trying to provoke the fandom/s and cause a reaction or get a few to attack her directly so that she can come around and drag everyone like it has happened before.

==================

UPDATE: After receiving much backlash & hostility for her behavior, the girl had no choice but to come clean with her claims. And admitted that she did in fact made everything up from the beginning and in addition also admitted to having a serious (personal/emotional/mental) problem which made her believe (in her mind) that she really did have this relationship with an Idol whom she has never met.

#Taehyung #kim taehyung #bts taehyung #vmin #taekook #Army #bts army #vhope #vope #tae stan #bts #bangtan #taejin #taegi #bantansonyeondan

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iwritesometimes · 4 years

Text

quarantine q&a

the ever-fabulous @lazaefair (AND I’VE JUST SEEN @poemsingreenink as well!!!<3) tagged me to complete a little cabin-fever antidote quiz, so HERE WE GO!!

Are you staying home from work/school?

staying home, but still working. technically i’m even working a little extra because i have to be on call on sundays, as we have a lot of work related to coronavirus plaguing my department. however, i get to do all this work in my PJs, from the comfort of my couch, with cats adhered to various parts of my body. so it’s, on average, a thousand times better than the way i usually have to work.

If you’re staying home, who’s there with you?

my little sister and her fiancée, and our collective five cats. guys: we live with so many cats in this house. that’s not a new coronavirus development. it’s just how we live. SO many cats.

Are you a homebody?

extremely - to be honest, i rarely go places anyway, and even then mostly with my family. all my friends are online. but even i, legendary hermit in a metaphorical cave (with wifi), am starting to feel vaguely cabin fevery. i’m going to relish a trip to the grocery store this weekend. i might cry on the vet tech when i go pick up louie’s meds.

An event that you were looking forward to that got cancelled?

my dad and i were supposed to go to NYC to see Keane this weekend. i’m so bummed we’re not going to get a chance to go. he and i rarely do things together just us, and i was hoping to take him to Levain, which is like two blocks from the venue, to try their supposedly amazing cookies. also, KEANE, who i wasn’t sure were ever going to release another album or tour again. THANKS, CORONAVIRUS. also, on a much less petty note, one of my best friends was supposed to get married next month, and now that’s been postponed. i’m glad we’re not going to either event, of course, and it’s the right thing to do. but it still sucks.

What movies have you watched recently? What shows are you watching?

so, EXTREMELY ill-advisedly, my sister made me watch Contagion with her last weekend. DON’T DO THIS. as a palate cleanser, however, we later watched Warcraft, and i loved it, and none of you can judge me. if i had seen that shit at like 10 years old i would have lost my goddamn mind. even at 33 it was pretty great to get to see Lothar as a bumbling moron and Khadgar as his magical twink sidekick. the CGI was eye-searing, the storyline was much more followable than i expected, and the shoulderguards were patently huge. it was a big dumb fun movie.

we then had some more big dumb fun bingeing The Letter for the King, right up until the point in the last episode where two of the male sidekick characters - the warrior and the bard, who had been a little flirty throughout if you squinted - OUT AND OUT KISSED, and we screamed and hyperventilated, and then they dropped an anvil of foreshadowing IMMEDIATELY after and we googled to see their fate. yeah, one of them gets killed like a half hour after that. we stopped watching right where we’d paused it. we’re still utterly furious. it was so much fucking cute fun. goddammit.

i also blitzed The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel recently and enjoyed it overall. i have watched ALL of The Repair Shop that is available to me and if you need a show to put on when you just need a fucking break, i could not recommend it more. i started Black Sails and i’ll probably continue it because everyone says it’s amazing. i tried the first episode of The Untamed and oooo boy, did it make absolutely no sense whatsoever to me and i literally could not tell you a single thing that happened in it. i keep hearing it gets better, so i’m gonna try to soldier through. THE GIFSETS ARE JUST SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL. but lordy that was a rough experience.

What music are you listening to?

mostly the usual “lofi hiphop study” crap i keep on to work to. i listened through most of Carpenter Brut’s discography yesterday and it was GREAT. listening to Keane, of course - their new album is so sad and frustrating, subject-matter-wise, but OOO THE SONGS ARE REALLY GOOD.

youtube

What are you reading?

lol, endless coronavirus messaging for work :’( also, all fifteen (15) fics in the hugh/elnor tag on ao3 FUCK i need to WRITE something for them.

also might fuck around and reread Persuasion for the LONGING.

What are you doing for self-care?

been HYPER limiting my time online/on social media. i’m sorry if i’ve been hard to get hold of, i’m not trying to ignore anyone or disappear. i’m just basically working constantly on wordswordswords about this stupid pandemic and then, when i clock out, playing videogames or watching my sisters play videogames (the Ori games and Hollow Knight have been a balm in these times - even if Hollow Knight is about a spreading infection and the collapse of an unjust society WHOOOOOPS) or daydreaming about nonexistent Star Trek romances and not looking at twitter, the news, discord, or even tumblr too much. i just can’t take it.

so anyway! lol. sorry. it’s late and i need to go to bed, i’ve barely been sleeping. it’s been a weird couple of weeks. i love you all and hope sincerely you’re staying safe out there and looking out for each other. take a walk tomorrow, if you can, or drive around for the fresh air. it’s springtime, the world is still beautiful, we just have to stick it out a few more weeks in our depression caves. THE ONLY WAY OUT IS THROUGH, Y’ALL!!!!!

if the following gorgeous people have any interest in divulging their quarantine agendas and haven’t done so already, i would love to hear from them!!

@northstarfan @boba-fettuccine @omicheese @wolfhalls @onyxmoonstone @look-and-wonder @bebeocho @shih-shoulda-had-it

#gpoy #MISSIVES FROM A QUARANTINE SHELTER CRAWLING WITH CATS literally one of them is trying to steal leftover food from a plate as we SPEAK

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danny-darkness · 5 years

Note

you clearly know NOTHING about homophobia. look up "anti sodomy" laws. none of them EVER condemn penis in vagina sex.

Hello anon. I actually have no idea what you’re talking about, but that obviously makes two of us, because you clearly don’t know what you’re talking about either.

So, let’s go through this one point at a time.

To begin... “you clearly know NOTHING about homophobia.”

Firstly, that’s a massive assumption to make about someone you don’t know. It’s also utterly incorrect. I’ve been called ‘faggot’, ‘homo’, ‘queer’, ‘freak’ ... etc etc etc in anonymous comments on here so many times I’ve lost count and I no longer waste my time responding to them. I’ve been told things such as ‘your blog should be banned’ because I ‘have no moral standards’ and apparently I am ‘normalising’ homosexuality. Laughingly, many of these comments were the result of me posting photographs of flowers and tagging them with things such as ‘oh look, more flowers! I’m gay, what did you expect!?!’ Yeah, I know, I was really pushing the ‘gay agenda’ with that one! Others were because I wrote a long, supportive reply to an anon who was struggling with coming out as gay to their family. One of those claimed ‘whats worse is you use your photos to make them [the children] admire you and then you preach your faggot filth’. As back-handed compliments go, that’s a particular favourite of mine. :) Others still were in response to comments I’ve made in which I’ve mentioned I’m gay, comments in support of other gay people, etc etc. The list goes on, and that’s just on here.

In the world away from tumblr (yes anon, there really is one!), I’ve been openly gay since I was in my teens. I’ve been physically and verbally attacked for it so often that while I’m still saddened by people’s behaviour, I’m no longer even remotely surprised by it.

I grew up in one of the less salubrious areas of London. While there were open minded people who were accepting of everything and everyone, sadly they were far more of a minority than the one I found myself in the moment I came out as gay. More often I encountered ignorant, violent, cowardly people who derived some sort of sick pleasure from discrimination. Racist, homophobic, transphobic, sexist, discriminatory bullies. Recently a group of men on a London bus attempted to make two gay women kiss one another. When the women refused the men beat them up. Sadly the only thing that makes this attack stand out from any of the many others that happen every single day was that this one got some news coverage.I get called ‘faggot’ so many times I’m surprised my dog doesn’t answer to it (maybe he’s not read any Pavlov). I can move the bridge of my nose from side to side because it’s set that way after being broken so many times by people punching me in the face (for being openly gay). I’ve been spat on for holding my boyfriend’s hand. I’ve had to leave a restaurant and several pubs, not because of the way my friends and I, or my boyfriend and I were behaving but because those yelling insults at us were frightening the other patrons and the staff were less afraid of throwing us out than standing up to them. My motorbikes and my car were vandalised so many times it was cheaper for me to rent a garage than to keep paying for repairs to the bodywork.

That’s just some of it. There’s more; there’s much more, but I’ll spare you the rest. What I’ve said there should be enough to give you a general idea of how much NOTHING I know about homophobia, firsthand.

I work as a counsellor. Many of my clients are similarly discriminated against. Many are going through far worse than anything I’ve mentioned here. Despite your assumptions regarding my lack of knowledge of homophobia, one of the things I’ve learned about it and about any form of discrimination is that it says far, far more about the person doing the discrimination than it does about the person, people, or group who are being discriminated against. Discrimination is a hate-crime that cannot be justified. I’ll say that again.

Discrimination is a hate-crime that cannot be justified.

It is one thing to have an opinion (even if that opinion is a negative one); it is a whole other thing to feel the need to use that opinion to make others unhappy or afraid simply because of their sexuality, their gender, the colour of their skin, etc etc. To do so is to spread hatred and fear, and more hatred and fear is the last thing society needs. If you can’t offer acceptance, then you’re the one who’s lacking in understanding, empathy and decency; you’re the one who ‘clearly knows NOTHING’ about homophobia or any other form of discrimination. If that’s the case? Please do everyone (yourself included) a favour and if you’re truly unable to let go of your hate, at least keep it to yourself.

Moving on... “look up anti-sodomy laws.”

I don’t actually need to; I have done, many times, for a variety of reasons. What’s your point?

And you finish with... “none of them EVER condemn penis in vagina sex.”

Anon, were you drunk when you wrote this? Are you really of the opinion that this wonderful piece of contradiction proves whatever it is you are attempting to prove?

“look up anti-sodomy laws. none of them EVER condemn penis in vagina sex.”

Oh. My. God. Where do I even begin? Probably with stopping laughing, because it’s making it difficult to type.Ok... so, sodomy is (by definition of most dictionaries) anal sex. (Anal sex between men and women, men and men, etc etc.) It can also refer to oral sex and can even be expanded to include bestiality. To sum it up: sodomy is any sexual act that is not engaged in for the purpose of procreation. It is not specific to homosexual men. I am definitely a homosexual man and I have never felt the need to get it on with my dog, or any other animal, for that matter!

So (and I can’t believe I am having to explain this to you), obviously it is not going to include penis in vagina sex UNLESS it is possible to prove that the penis in vagina sex in question is not for the purpose of procreation, ie to beget or generate offspring. (That means having babies, by the way.)

Your brilliant piece of ‘logic’ there is like saying ‘look up the laws on drunk driving. None of them EVER condemn walking home drunk.’ No shit, Sherlock!

So um... thanks so much for that brilliant bit of insight you felt the need to share with me, Anon. My life is so much richer now. I see the error of my ways, and it’s all because of your genius.

Thank you so much.

PS: what exactly did I do to deserve you sharing your wisdom with me? Honestly, I feel as though Ghandi just came back from the grave to have a deep, meaningful and spiritual conversation with me.

Was it because I said that if I dated a transguy it wouldn’t make me straight? If it was could you take your utter stupidity and your transphobic hatred somewhere else, please? You might have more luck with people who are more stupid than you (if you can find any, of course) or with other transphobes who are so relieved to find idiots that agree with them that they’ll overlook your IQ and welcome you into the fold.

Thanks again Anon, (I always appreciate a good laugh!) Have a good night.

#Anonymous

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dusk-realm · 5 years

Text

Chrysanthemum [Chapter 9: Misfortunes]

Tagging: @featurelengthfics @pan-lokistan @thedungeonsbat @severussnapesupporter @southsiderepresent

Did you ask to be tagged and I haven’t done so? Please send me a message, I might have lost your ask.

Did you just stumble across this blog? Here’s my masterlist.

Guys, remember to check the tags for trigger warnings.

A/N: some of you asked about this chapter, and here it is! I couldn’t sleep the other day, so I used the time to finish this up early for you, enjoy!

……………

‘No.’

‘It would give us some advantage.’

‘Don’t you ever have enough? You don’t need to involve her into this.’

‘There’s no better cure for the spirit than putting oneself to work.’

‘So you’re just going to use a child for your own gain?’

‘We must protect Harry, Severus. At all costs.’

‘And her? Who will protect her? Or is she nothing more than a pawn?’

‘Feeling useful will make her good, she’ll make friends in the way.’

‘You know nothing about her. She dislikes them all!’

‘Severus-’

‘No, don’t make me repeat myself. I won’t allow this.’

*SLAM*

(Y/N) dragged herself down the stairs to the dungeons. The torches that normally kept the corridors down there dimly lit seemed to be doing a very poor job that day, as she had to cast Lumos to navigate through the dark until she arrived at the Potions classroom door, at which she knocked softly.

‘Enter.’ A deep voice answered, and she opened the door. Professor Snape was busy filling up the jars of the classroom with unknown substances for her.

‘(Y/N), what are you doing here this late?’

‘How did you know it was me? You didn’t even look!’

‘Perhaps I can read minds, after all.’ He tempted with a sardonic smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

‘Oh, knock it off. Anyway, I just came here to see if you needed help before it’s curfew after all that… mess.’

‘Hm… well, you could put these away for a start.’ The professor requested, motioning at a wide variety of bottles, jars and containers of all sorts displayed on the floor around him.

‘Sure, it won’t take long.’

The student silently began her task, carrying as many containers as she could in her arms to the storage room inside the same classroom. Severus wasn’t fond of using spells anywhere near the potions or the ingredients, so she always had to do it the hard way. Well, it was still better than knock something off its place and end up making an absolute disaster.

‘And how was your day?’

The question caught (Y/N) by surprise, as Severus was not one to engage into small talk.

‘Eh… it was… fine, I suppose.’

‘Was it? I don’t recall seeing you during dinner.’ He finally pointed out.

So that’s what this was about. The student thought.

Well, the very first day of D.A.D.A had been disastrous. Apparently, Lockhart had been giving all the classes the same quiz about his ego his books, where (Y/N) had to play guessing just to scratch some points here and there. Rumour has it that Hermione Granger was the only one to get full marks,as expected. Some students had also been chatting about something having to do with Cornish pixies, but what had happened exactly to the Gryffindors wasn’t completely clear for the girl, and just casually asking Neville wasn’t an option right now; they hadn’t talked much since their small argument in the train.

‘Ah… yes, I went to the library after classes and I got into a book a little too much and missed dinner time.’

‘And what was it about that it enticed you so deeply?’

‘Forbidden substances and spells. It was some sort of a review on how they were discovered and then limited or just prohibited.’

Severus said nothing, but a soft humming sound indicated her that he was listening, so she went on:

‘It had a quotation from a book called Moste Potente Potions, but I looked for it and I think it must be in the Restricted Section or something.’

The title of the book made Severus’ eyebrows raise in disbelief and his eyes to lock on hers, not expecting the Slytherin to be reading such things.

‘What do you want from that book?’

‘Not much,’ she shrugged, ‘I just found it interesting and I wanted to read more of the chapter.’

As they spoke, (Y/N) finished putting away the containers that the potions master had already used. Severus watched her come and go and sat down on the stone floor with his legs crossed and his cape spread everywhere.

‘Come here,’ he called softly. (Y/N) beheld him with huge, shiny eyes, ‘what do you want to know?’ he asked in a hushed tone, as if it was absolute top secret.

(Y/N) practically dropped to the floor at the speed of light and sat on her knees:

‘So, I wanted to read about the Polyjuice potion because-’

A gentle shush scaping in between Severus’ teeth made her lower her voice even more.

‘because,’ she continued in barely a whisper, ‘it is very complicated to brew and I was wondering if it has any flexibility with the ingredients?’

‘Like for example?’ Snape encouraged.

‘Like, for example… It’s made with a hair of the person you want to transform into, right? But would it work with something else? Like the saliva, a piece of skin… or blood? Or would it ruin the mix?’

‘As you may know, that potion wasn’t exactly created for… legitimate purposes-’

‘Yeah, I know tha-’

‘Shut up.’ He reprehended. ‘However, what the potion requires is something from the person you want to transform in, hence, as long as you can keep the mix stable, anything can be used.’ Severus explained. (Y/N) opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again as she noticed that the professor hadn’t finished yet. ‘Another issue is,’ he carried on, slowly dragging his voice, ‘how willing you are to drink a potion made with spit.’

The pupil chuckled and continued to ask questions, which Severus answered as if he was telling the most exciting adventure tale.

A couple of weeks went by quite fast as school got tougher.

The Slytherin was doing just fine in her classes, except for Defense. Everyone seemed to be more than happy to attend Professor Lockhart’s speeches about his numerous, incredible experiences, while (Y/N)’s head hung low every time she had to cross that door.

Her agenda was torn between classes, homework and doing occasional tasks for the professors in exchange for House Points.

Poor old Flitwick was a bit too soft with students out of his own house, so (Y/N) tended to gravitate around the Charms classroom, where there always was something to do, and always a bunch of points waiting for the young Slytherin and a cupcake.

Mcgonagall and Sprout would also let her assist them in the afternoons, but they were a bit more a aware of the position of their own Houses in the competition to give out points as easily as the Ravenclaw Head.

On the other hand, Severus hardly ever awarded points, not even to his own House, so (Y/N) spent less and less time around the dungeons and more in the library, just minding her own business and staying away from Pansy Parkinson.

That girl had taken a liking to mock (Y/N)’s efforts to improve as a student, reminding her that whatever she did would not erase the past failures.

That she would always be the shame of Slytherin.

It was almost dinner time, and Madam Pince was already giving the student reproaching looks.

Well, she had been there for the whole afternoon, so maybe it was time to call it a day.

Plus, (Y/N) didn’t want to worry Severus. He had already confronted her a couple of weeks ago over her skipping meals, so maybe it’d be good to let herself be seen in the Dining Hall.

(Y/N) sat down in the middle of the table, where it was almost empty. The groups of friends were all bunched together near the ends of the table, like colonies of insects. The girl loaded her plate with fish and vegetables to please her grumbly stomach and began eating.

Or, she did so until she heard a screechy voice call her name.

‘(Y/N)~’ Parkinson sang.

Oh my god, here we go again.

The gang soon sat down surrounding the teenager, squeezing her in between them, not letting her escape or move in the slightest. (Y/N) did her best to ignore them.

How they had the guts to come and mess with someone older than them was still a mystery for the teenager.

‘You finally crawled out of your den to fetch some food?’ The other asked in a sickly sweet tone. Parkinson was sitting to (Y/N)’s right, and she surrounded her shoulders with her left arm.

‘Well, of course,’ the other answered in an unsarcastically soft tone, ‘it’s dinner time.’

The pug-faced girl let her go for the moment and finally minded her own plate. The girls ate in silence, except the some glances and giggles here and there.

‘Nuh-uh.’ Parkinson grabbed (Y/N)’s fork as she was going to eat a piece of broccoli.

‘What?’ She protested, trying to retrieve her fork by force.

‘Haven’t you eaten enough already? This is for students, you know?’

‘Fuck off, will you?’

Bulstrode, to (Y/N)’s left, harshly pinched and twisted the skin of the smaller girl’s ribcage, making her jump in her seat with an:

‘Agh!’

‘(Y/L/N),’ said Parkinson again in a deeper, lower voice, ‘you flunked Professor Lockhart’s quiz, didn’t you? Then-’ she finally snatched (Y/N)’s fork from her hand, and continued: ‘save the food for those that put their brains to good use. Go, see if the Hufflepuffs will have a troll eating with them.’

(Y/N) barely kept it together for long enough to stand up and get out of there. Her cheeks had turned a crimson red and tears threatened to start rolling down her heated face out of pure rage. The girl stood up and… fell down backwards with a squeak, and the whole school erupted in laughter.

Gathering the little dignity she had left, (Y/N) got up, dusted off her clothes and left the hall at a brisk pace.

The next morning, (Y/N) got up late on purpose just to skip breakfast. She couldn’t bear walking into the hall after what happened last night, everyone would laugh at her for sure.

Fucking Pansy…

Her left hand found the other in the mangle of white sheets. She looked at her knuckles from behind a mess of (H/C) hair, product of not having slept in the whole night. They were sore and still red from the beating her poor pillow received in the middle of a fit.

She got up when it was only 20 minutes left for the beginning of the first period. Thankfully, the dorm was already empty, and she had the bathroom for herself.

It was the last monday of September. They had Potions in their first Period, and they’d be brewing a Sleeping Draught. Lavender, valerian, standard ingredient and flobberworm mucus. Piece of cake, considering how half of the ingredients coincided with natural muggle remedies for sleeping. What a curious thing.

Neville was slowly crushing the lavender and the standard ingredient. He had automatically paired up with (Y/N), as always, but the girl thought that he was acting weird. He was unusually quiet, but (Y/N) was too tired to deal with that. There were still some giggles here and there, some fingers pointing, probably still too amused by last evening’s incident during dinner.

Professor Snape approached them from behind, quieting down the murmurs with his sole presence. Neville lowered his head so much that his chin touched his chest, feeling the professor’s breathing on his neck.

‘I don’t want to see chunks, Longbottom.’ He said before leaving to check on another pair of students.

Neville looked appalled at (Y/N), who was setting the cauldron.

‘What?’ She whispered. ‘You only have to go on until it’s like a cream.’

The rosy-cheeked boy nodded and continued.

Neville looked extra focused that day, maybe because the majority of the ingredients were plants? For once, (Y/N) thought it would be a good idea to leave him in charge, while she assisted him for a change. She was just so tired…

But oh, what a mistake it was trusting Neville Longbottom with a cauldron.

It all happened fast.

Everything had gone alright until the last step, when the potion had to be stirred seven times clockwise. But somehow, Longbottom managed to screw up and stir counter-clockwise.

The potion began bubbling and fuming abundantly:

‘CLOCKWISE NEVILLE,CLOCKWISE!!’ (Y/N) frantically exclaimed. The girl peeked above the cauldron in an attempt to fix the situation, but the fumes blasted and expanded- (Y/N) tried to get away from the cloud of fumes, but the strong mix of ingredients still had their effect; the girl quavered and tripped with someone else’s feet, falling down head first and hitting her forehead against the table.

The voices first were muffled and distorted, then they slowly faded away, as if she was listening underwater the sounds of the surface. Then, her eyesight weakened and clouded. (Y/N)’s consciousness finally drifted off to some other place, very far away from the Potions classroom.

#tw: bullying #pro-snape #fanfic #x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #hp #potterhead #snapedom #pro snape #snape community #severus #severus snape #severus snape x reader #severus x reader #prose #chrysanthemum

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sher-soc-the-famder · 6 years

Text

A Story of Death Chapter 2- Demons for Dummies

Word Count: 4720

Pairings: Slow burn LAMP, Moxiety, Logicality, Logince

Tags: Light cursing only this chapter :D

Notes: We’re starting you guys off slow, as in Slowburn XD Co-Written by the fabulous @wisepuma23!!

READ ON Ao3 :D

Chapter 1

Roman had long since mastered the art of smiling and waving as he walked down the street. Shoulders thrown back, chin tilted just slightly up, and a long confident stride would fool just about anyone into thinking he was fine even when he wasn’t. And at the moment, he really, really wasn’t.

Oh god, Ma was going to kill him. He was a dead man walking and for more than the demon deal he hadn’t meant to make with the demon he hadn’t meant to summon.

Don’t worry Ma, it’s the quietest town in the state. Don’t worry Ma, I’ll lay off the magic and focus on writing. Don’t worry Ma, I’ll be fine.

So much for that. Roman had to kiss the cushy life away from his mother good-bye. He was fairly certain that he was going to be locked in her basement until the end of time, or Ma found a way to break the deal, whichever came first. He was never going to get that best seller done, let alone the series he was doing now, and the thought of that ached. No, it was more of a horrific burn, and Roman didn’t want to think about that.

He’d rather focus on that flipping cute barista that worked at Starbucks and the easy no pressure flirting that was in his future. Maybe he’d actually be able to control his mouth to some extent. Or at least turn the ever flowing waterfall of prose and rush of flowery words to a target that wouldn’t be shredded into ever flowing driftwood like the way his future had just been destroyed. Yeah, like that.

Roman paused when the steady footsteps that had been next to him stopped and he ripped himself from his internal monologue- which in his defense was a beautiful monologue, could use some work but, no focus Roman- to look at the demon.

And Roman could admit that the demon he summoned was a rather tall drink of water, but the whole creature of Hell thing was a turn off. Totally not his thing. As was the inevitable dragging his soul to Hell. And his inevitable death at Ma’s hands--wait, no don’t think about that. There was a lot of inevitables going around lately and it tempted Roman to do something truly stupid just to throw the word off its tracks.

“Uhhhh,” Roman glanced around at the near empty street. He smiled at the girl staring at the two of them and waved, feeling way too happy at the fact that she waved back before hurrying off. He turned his eyes back to Lahash, “So are you planning on moving any time this century, Beelze-bud? Or is just standing there all-” He waggled his fingers in front of his face, “- and doing demon-y things?”

Lahash stared at him for a long moment, before pinching the bridge of his nose. Score one for the witch.

“Do you ever listen to the mess that exits your mouth or is it never ceasing stream of useless, unintelligible dribble?”

Roman wrinkled his nose, and stuck his tongue out at the demon, “Buffy speak is a perfectly acceptable way of communicating the thingies that people do the, you know, the thing with.” He grinned at the way Lahash’s eyes darkened with anger. Aaaaand score two for the witch. If he was going to die at least he could make it amusing.

“But that doesn’t answer my question, La Lahash Land, coffee is that way.” He pointed in the direction of the nearest Starbucks and Lahash raised an eyebrow at him. Bastard. “It’s literally within your line of sight. I know that you’re blind to all the good things in the world, but it’s also an evil evil capitalist business and I’m sure you’d be encouraging some sort of Hell agenda by supporting them. They killed Merry Christmas on their cups last year, that’s like your enemy’s birthday right?”

Roman’s grin grew at look on Lahash’s face. Score three, and he was winning. The demon looked like he was struggling for the right words to say. Probably more big words about Roman’s smarts, and how lacking in them he was. Fine by him, the more people underestimated him the better. Roman had never cared, well actually, that was a lie, but he was master at pretending he didn’t care.

“So do you actually say Hail Satan? Like is that part of the customer experience? Do I need a pamphlet. Are there pamphlets for this?” Roman said as he looked down at his hands, envisioning an actual pamphlet. The front would have a pentagram obviously, maybe with cute little horns and a tail, black and red like an edgy teen had tried to design it. Roman pitched out, “Demons 101: How to Care for a Little Shit.”

“More like Demons for Dummies.” Lahash snapped back, “Chapter One is titled How to Summon Like a Fucking Idiot.”

“I think that title is too long.” Roman said with a cheeky smile and patted him on the back, “But good try, Hot Wings. Someday, you’ll figure it out.”

Roman bit back a laugh at Lahash’s face. Score four, and he pulls ahead! Lahash’s nose wrinkled and his mouth twisted as if he sucked on a lemon. He adjusted his glasses and tightened his tie. Roman only had a moment to process holy shit, oh wait, unholy shit that was hot. Bad Roman, no, don’t lust after the demon, that’s how they get you.

Lahash stepped in front of him and stared him down, “We are walking to Angel’s Coffee if you know what’s good for your entrails,” he growled out and perked an eyebrow, “Is. That. Clear?”

And score one for Lahash.

Roman let out a squeaky, “Okay,” before clearing his throat and trying to back track, “I mean, what the hell, I don’t even know where that is-”

Roman blinked at the small paper that was shoved into his face, going cross-eyed trying to read the tiny script. Lahash sighed and Roman valiantly resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at the demon again. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t read the paper card or whatever that was literally inches away from his face! He reached up to snatch it out of the demon's hands and ignored the growl it earned him.

Or at least pretended to, the sound made him shiver and he spent a precious moment trying to tap down on the way his magic jumped. Down boy.

The card was professionally done, and Roman could appreciate the clear artistic eye that went into the simple design. Angel’s Coffee, done in elegant script and framed by a pair of wings. He flipped it over, and couldn’t help his snicker.

Not halo amount of Coffee! Visit us at xxxxxx!

“Cute,” he admitted, and went to pocket the card only for Lahash to growl at him again. “Alright, alright, touchy much?” Roman tossed him the card back, “But like, I appreciate the ironic aesthetic and all. But like, it’s half an hour away and have you seen the sky?”

He waved at the dark clouds and ignored the unimpressed look in Lahash’s eyes. Roman almost snapped that he knew rain had never hurt anyone but have you seen his shoes? They didn’t exactly come cheap, before he bit down on his lip. No, that line was too personal.

“Just because you wanna cool down from a stint in Hell, but some of us have delicate complexions and an actual body that gets sick. So excuuuse me if I don’t want to go walking in the rain.”

“What are you talking about?” Lashash said as he looked at the dotted clouds in the sky, “It’s lovely today. You need to get your eyes checked as well if you think,” he spread out his arms in the muted sunniness of the afternoon, “this is going to rain.”

“It’s still half an hour!” Roman said as he followed Lahash down the street, past the Starbucks, “You can’t be serious. Do you even know where it is?”

“Humans have walked for far longer times than a mere thirty minutes only five hundred years ago. And by the alarming number of pizza boxes in your apartment, well,” Lahash turned around to eye him up and down, Roman fought back the blush at the stare, “you need the exercise.”

“We can just call an Uber!” Roman said aghast and pulled his jacket tighter around him, he walked faster to catch up, “It’s only ten minutes of driving.”

“Already out of breath?” Lahash clicked his tongue, “I told you so. We’re walking.”

Roman pulled up into a stop and pointed at the demon. “I,” he declared, “am not out of breath. I am nowhere near what is counted as out of breath- wait! Wait, wait, hold up, set down the bag, and take a lag. I never agreed to this in the first place!”

Lahash clicked his tongue, “Only catching on now? I suppose I should be less surprised. It’s amazing what humans will do with only the slightest suggestion, such as walking in a certain direction. So many arbitrary rules that you give yourselves. Ah, well, more for me to exploit, such as it is.”

“Excuse me?!” Roman said, “I’m not following your manipulations! I’m standing right here and I’m going to call an Uber. And when you arrive at the cafe out of breath then I’ll have the last laugh! Cause I’m not falling for your demonly tricks.”

Roman crossed his arms. Lahash sighed and turned on his heel and kept walking. Roman tapped his foot on the cement as he took out his phone and pulled up the Uber app. He watched Lahash’s back stop at an intersection. He typed in the address. He shifted from foot to foot as the light counted down. The Uber blue route lit up on screen. Then the clamor of the crowd as they crossed the street. He lost sight of Lahash in the masses.

Roman swore.

He took off into a run and crossed the street just as the light turned to red. He heard angry honks behind him as he bent over his knees and panted. He swallowed in wet breathes, he just ran a whole block, fucking shit. Roman looked up from the grey pavement to see two familiar business sensible shoes in front of him. He straightened to see Lahash smugly looking at him. Before Roman could tell him to wipe that irritating smile off his face, he turned around and went back to walking.

“We have to turn right at the next light.” Roman muttered next to him, falling in step, “You do know Google Maps, right?”

“No.”

“You’re insane.” Roman said, “Did you just walk in any direction? Were you planning on asking for directions?”

“Yes. Do humans not do that anymore?”

Roman wasn’t sure what noise escaped his mouth but whatever it was made Lahash’s smirk tick higher upwards. Damn him to Hell- wait, would it be better to bless a demon? Roman wondered vaguely if he should have known that by now, or if someone had told him before and he had just forgotten. He wasn’t used to needing to be the one with the knowledge. Ma would have his hide if she found out- Nope, he was still avoiding thinking about her learning anything about him right now.

Roman tapped at the screen of his phone, squinting to get a better look at the map. “There’s an alley up head that it wants us to take-”

“‘It wants,’” the demon muttered, “As if humanity has the ability to create something with feelings.”

Roman ignored him. Barely a few hours of knowing each other and it seemed they had already fallen into a pattern. Roman didn’t want to know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. He really didn’t want to think about how having someone to talk to was a heady feeling. Or how his plans on breaking the deal were slowing getting pushed back behind showing Lahash that he was in fact an adult. And that humanity was awesome. And that he was intelligent.

And wow, this was such a bad idea. Huge. Oh god.

“- so if we happen to get mugged, you really should refrain from murdering anyone,” Roman continued smoothly. “I haven’t had to hide a body in years.”

That drew Lahash up short and Roman adjusted his scoreboard accordingly. Haha, who’s a loser? Not Roman!

“You haven’t killed anyone,” the demon scoffed, and Roman smirked. The longer the silence stretched on, only the sound of footsteps around him, the more Lahash seemed to waver. “No, no, you haven’t, you don’t have the guts for it.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Roman singsonged, a bounce in his steps.

“You are infuriating,” Lahash said, and Roman winked at him.

“I do try my best. It’s a gift.”

“A gift of idiocy,” Lahash muttered, eyes sweeping the alley. Huh, Roman wouldn’t have thought he’d take the warning seriously. It was unexpected, but not unappreciated. Not that he really thought there was going to be a mugger in the alley, it was a quiet town after all. It never hurt to be prepared though. “Was it from your mother perhaps?”

Roman let out a shriek. No one got to talk like that about Ma.

“You need to cool your jets,” he hissed, flinging his hands out, magic sparking at his fingertips. Wait, no, no, no, he didn’t want sparks! The dumpster just left of Lahash caught fire and Roman yelped at the whoosh that came from the sudden change. That- was not a water spell. Nope.

Silence fell between the two of them, and Roman coughed into his hand. “That will be you if you ever talk about Ma like that again.”

Lahash stared at him for a long moment, turning slowly to look at the (thankfully) quickly dying fire, and then back at Roman. “Well,” he drew out, then deadpan, “That is about an accurate summation of my mood for the day.”

Roman yelped again and almost stumbled trying to follow after the demon. “Like a….” he glanced back, “A dirty dumpster fire?”

“Sure,” Lahash said, waiting at the corner for Roman to take the turn they were supposed to, “As well as being misused by the most incompetent witch I’ve ever had the dishonor to meet.”

Roman bit down on his tongue. It wasn’t exactly a wrong assessment of his skills. Roman had managed to pull a demon from Hell when he had just been trying to craft an assistant. He rubbed at the sigils around his wrists, and clenched his jaw.

“Oh I can’t have been the worst,” he tried to wave off.

“That’s up for debate,” Lahash said, eyeing him with intelligence that seemed to pierce his soul. Roman grinned and shrugged shameless.

“What can I say?” Roman waggled his eyebrows, “My life is simply an explosion of adventure. I never had time to learn control, and everyone loves a little wildness in their love anyways.” He winked and blew Lahash a cheesy kiss.

“I don’t believe you can handle my sense of wild.” Lahash said, and then pulled a wink. Roman felt his face flush, he just had to summon a cheeky demon, didn’t he? “Whatever is that supposed to mean?”

Lahash said nothing and goddamn his smirk. Roman shoved down the monkey part of his brain. How did this demon already manage to wrap him around his little pinky? Oh god, he was in over his head wasn’t he? Then he saw the exit to the alley was ahead. Roman let out a relieved sigh as he saw the green cafe doors on the other side of the street come into view.

Lahash came to an abrupt stop, “I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself.” he turned to Roman and held out a hand, “My human name is Logan.”

“Logan?” Roman said as he shook his hand, then bit back a yelp as Logan’s hand tightened, “You must never speak my demonic name in front of anyone. If you do, I’ll be forced to kill them on the spot.”

Roman gulped as he saw Logan’s fangs grow in and peek out his lips, “Okay.” he said with a squeak.

“You must never order me around. And don’t you ever use your magic on me, witch.” Logan spat out, his red eyes appearing for moment before fading, “There’s a special torture in Hell for the witches who dare to do so. Even today I can still find pieces of them stuck to my shoes.”

Roman’s eyes widen and his lungs couldn’t take a breath and his heart pounded. He felt the ghost of claws digging into his soft palm. Logan smiled and Roman felt his heart skip a literal beat at the fangs glinting back at him.

“Do you understand, Princey?”

“Crystal clear.” he said with a strangled gasp, and then Logan finally let his grip go, Roman took his hand back with a hiss, “Is that the Orientation to Demon 101? Cause it sucks.”

Logan smirked and then turned his gaze to Angel’s Coffee.

Oh, Ma was going to kill him.

It was one o’clock and the lunch rush slowed to a trickle. Finally, Virgil’s fingers and feet could rest. He bit back a groan as he leaned against his counter. His feet begged him to take a fifteen minute break two hours ago. He really should’ve bought better shoes on the last shopping trip. He knew this was his dream job but it wasn’t easy on the sensitive sole.

Patton was rubbing off on him. A giggle escaped him. Man, he should tell Pat. He could use the laugh too. Sensitive sole. Comedy gold.

Virgil turned to him. Then frowned, Patton had been adjusting the counter display for the past five minutes. He remembered that call earlier, he knew Patton said he was fine, but he still felt his stomach roil with anxiety. Virgil bit his lip. There were no customers at the moment, so he stepped closer, away from the register.

“Patton,” Virgil said, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Patton startled and turned to him with a smile, “I’ve never been better!” Patton ran his hands down his apron and fiddled with the pens in his apron pockets. He took a breath, “I’m just...jittery. I’m hoping an old friend comes to the cafe. I’m not sure if he will but if he does, well, so much the better!”

Patton’s smile was unrestrained in its brilliance, “Golly, it’s been so long!”

“Must be some friend.” Virgil said teasing, “Do you want to talk about him?”

“...No, not really.” Patton said after a pause, “Not right now. If he shows up, then I’ll let you know who it is. Otherwise, we can eat the cookies I made and talk about him then.” Patton walked over to him and put a hand on his arm, “I promise, dear.”

Virgil knew he shouldn’t press. There were some things in Patton’s past that never failed to make him clam up for one reason or another. It didn’t really matter too much to Virgil, not when Patton was open with him about not wanting to talk. Patton tugged on Virgil’s arm to take his place at the register. Virgil leaned forward to peck his cheek and walked around to pick up the dishes on the tables.

Virgil heard the bell above his door chime with new arrivals. He turned his head to the sound as he picked up plates. The two men made him do a double take. The one in front strided in as if he owned the place, his red letterman jacket making him look like a stuck up jock that never left high school. Already Virgil detected asshole all over the man’s windswept hair and chiseled jawline. He mouthed something off to his friend, a smirk and a wink, and Virgil hated anyone who looked so good effortlessly.

His eyes drew to Adonis Asshole’s friend, who hadn’t followed him inside, and just stood outside. Adonis threw his hands in the air and and stalked back to his friend, the two leaning forward to exchange rapid words under their breath. Well, that wasn’t shady at all. Virgil worried at his thumb as the friend winced walking through the door and let out a shaky breath. Virgil watched him walk to the nearest empty table to the entrance while Adonis sauntered to the counter.

Then the friend’s eyes shot over to him from his table and Virgil felt a sudden clench around his throat. He averted his gaze, focusing on cleaning up his plates. Shit, he hadn’t even realized he was staring. That was so rude. Virgil felt the heavy stare on his back as he stacked dirty plates, making his spine prickle and neck burn with a flush. There was something off about that man. He wasn’t one to judge, money was money, but it made his mind twist in knots.

Virgil hoofed it back to the counter and through the doors to the kitchen in the back. He set the plates down in the sink and pushed his sleeves back up to his elbows. He sucked in a breath. It was okay. Patton’s jitters just made him twitchy too. Nothing was wrong.

He walked back out and watched Patton grab the two finished coffee orders by the machine. Virgil went to the register while Patton walked to the pick-up section. They worked in tandem, a silent rhythm, beneath the perpetual faint music playing overhead.

Patton called out, “Order for a Roman and Logan?”

Adonis blushed as he stumbled out of his seat, “Ah yep! That’s me! Roman, haha.”

“It was nice of you to be roman around here and stop by our cafe!” Patton said delighted, “Enjoy the coffee, sir.”

Roman blinked at Patton and in a heartbeat, the almost endearing nervousness disappeared under a smirk. The asshole leaned forward and Virgil felt his grip on the counter tighten.

“Well with a cutie like you serving it, who wouldn’t?” The asshole had the nerve to wink and Virgil grit his teeth. He glared daggers at the man, wondering if he could set Roman on fire with the force of his gaze alone. At the very least, make the uppity customer uncomfortable. Patton giggled, and Virgil tried to pick out if it was an amused or uncomfortable one.

“Oh thank you!” Patton said, before bringing his hand and ring up to view, “But I’m afraid this cutie pie has already filled that spot in his life.”

Roman squealed, Virgil’s shoulders jumped to his ears at the sudden noise, “Oh my gosh! Congratulations! Who’s the lucky gal? Or guy? How did it happen? Oh I don’t mean to pry but I’m such a sap for weddings!” He bounced on his feet as he leaned forward on the counter, “When’s the date?”

Virgil drifted to Patton’s side, “We haven’t picked a date yet. We’re still debating on a winter or spring wedding.” Virgil narrowed his eyes at Roman, “So take your coffees, sir, and enjoy them.”

Roman took the coffee with a sheepish expression as he slid back to his table. Virgil tracked Roman and his perky ass back to the table and his friend with a glare. Damn it, he was hot. Then Virgil felt Patton grip his arm tightly. He wasn’t that obvious was he? Virgil stumbled as Patton dragged him to the kitchen with a yelp.

Patton let him go and walked into their refrigerator. Moments later, he set down an assortment of cookies. Virgil had seen Patton make them the minute he came back from the latest demon attack. Patton quickly transferred the cookies onto a platter with a lace center. He bent over his work, tongue sticking out in concentration as he lined them up just right.

“What’s up, Pat?” Virgil said, “You’ve been acting weird for the past hour.”

Patton straightened and turned to him, “Oh sorry, honey. I saw my friend out there. I just…” he glanced at the cookies, “wanted to welcome him after so many years.” Patton’s eyes glazed over as he thought about some distant dusty memory. Virgil guided his fiancé to sit down at the table. He pulled up his own chair in front of Patton, and leaned against the table.

“Oh Virgil,” Patton said as he put a hand on Virgil’s face, his smile a little sad like the time Virgil told him he was moving schools, “I was planning on telling you about Lahash after we got married. It’s tradition you know.”

“Lahash?” Virgil said, his tongue awkward around the name, “Who is he?”

“I know I don’t talk about Heaven.” Patton said as he tugged Virgil’s hands into his own, “But I can tell you about him. Lahash was my only angelic husband, he was my first, and we’ve been married for eons. Even before that, we were friends before the first stars were born.”

Virgil felt his mouth grow dry, “What happened?”

Patton’s hands tightened, “Lucifer rebelled. Lahash took his side. We had to fight on opposing sides of the War until God decided to force Lucifer and his Army to Fall.” Patton took a shuddering breath as he looked down at the checkered tiles, “Lahash fell with the Morning Star and his grace corrupted and it made him who he is today. A Demon.”

There was a silence that was heavy with unspoken questions, history, and ultimately, pained sorrow. Virgil knew Patton fought demons and devils daily but he didn’t know his...friend was one. He swallowed thickly.

“Are you two...still..” Virgil said, his shoulders tight to brace for the worst, “Married?”

“No, honey.” Patton told him in a gentle voice, “He divorced me that day. I didn’t ever marry another Angel again. My heart wouldn’t be able to take it.” Patton reached up and rubbed a thumb over Virgil’s cheek, “But humanity and their love is so pure and beautiful. Humanity taught me so much over the eons. And you, Virgil,” Virgil leaned into his palm, “don’t know how much your love has saved me.”

“You’re getting sappy, Pat.” Virgil mumbled, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Patton said, his smile wider at the declaration, “You’re the first human I can ever introduce to Lahash. Oh gee, this is exciting! I made him some cookies to entice him here.” Patton kissed him with a loud mwah, “I can’t believe it! He actually came. I wish he had come after I told you all about him. Oh there’s no use for that now. I can still tell you later.”

Virgil let a smile spread on his face, “You’re really happy about an ex-husband. I won’t mind if you take the bat from upstairs and smack him a few times. It’s the human way.”

Patton burst out with a laugh, “Oh, I’m still really mad. But I’m not batshit insane.”

Virgil hummed a light agreement as Patton poked at the cookies to get them into the perfect arrangement. He knew that Patton had a whole list of ex-lovers, but there was something about the jittery way that Patton approached this one that put him on edge. Maybe Virgil was just bias against goddamned demons, or maybe it was just the quiet sad way that Patton talked about this Lahash. Maybe it was his anxiety coming around to make his life hell as usual. Whatever. He was going to keep an eye on this demon just in case.

He had promised to protect the angel as best he could after all.

Virgil hauled himself to his feet and trailed after Patton, shoving his hands in his apron pockets. He smiled softly at the bounce in his fiance’s step as they exited the kitchen and made a beeline for the table with Asshole and The Ex. Or well, Patton made a beeline, and Virgil dragged his feet to delay the inevitable. It would make Patton happy. Patton was excited. It was fine. It was going to be fine.

Virgil looked up to meet the blistering glare of the demon and fought against swallowing in fear.

Maybe now was the time to panic.

Tag List!

@moonlightinwater @confinesofpersonalknowledge @ace-v-p-d @nightmaresides @virgils-jacket @v-blue-writer @izzynuggets @bubblycricket @heir-of-the-founders @thegreyacefromspace @squiggle-squish @nottodaylogic @magnificentme513 @angeliclogan @bekkyboo2003 @justanotherpurplebutterfly @milomeepit @lesliealiceinwonderland @cinquefoilelove @shattereddreamsamongotherthings @nye275 @brikcsandbones

#Sanders Sides #Thomas Sanders #Sanders Sides Fanfic #ASoD #Roman Sanders #Logan Sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #Angel/Demon AU #SocWriting #Written with Puma! :D

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