#ayyy tequila
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Could you elaborate more about the fight Miguel had with your family that was mentioned in the soccer family proposal imagine?
Ayyy! It's the perfect chance to get the angst out of me jsksj. And of course, no relationship is perfect 💔.
What caused the fight Pt3
Gabriel's eyes settled on the both as you entered Miguel's apartment. Solemnity and listless faces dragged inside.
Gabriel was as perspicacious as his elder brother. A habit rubbed on him through the years of sharing the apartment and drunk in mezcal and tequila talks.
You were teary eyed, unable to look him for more than a couple of seconds before acknowledge him with a lip tight smile and follow Miguel to his room like a scolded puppy. The room felt smaller, crumpling around you, almost suffocating. A couple of your belongings scattered around the place.
So far the only indicators that a woman occupied a spot in his life. Silence felt so deafening it crawled and bit on your tremorous skin. Dread had made itself comfortable in your guts along anxiety ever since you left your old house. Cause you'd certainly wouldn't able to call it home.
And after all these years the little to no improvement had only made you oath to yourself that you'd stay as far as possible from them.
You'd notice the white of his knuckles gripping so tightly at the wheel, that when you tried to get a hold of his hand, his hand recoiled from yours. An appalling contrast from hours ago where he'd held you and gave gentle touches to ease and relief your nerves.
You had warned him, and still the both got burned. Him specially. It felt like the person you had as a mother figure was doing it on purpose to upset you and him.
It couldn't be that bad between the both, right? If he was honest, at first he thought that nothing but a small fight had ensued and that you were a little immature about it. But as your relationship kept growing you'd tell him just the highlights of your mother's behavior.
Something that he actually related way too well. He knew that speaking of your family was still a sore point, something you were treating with therapy.
"What's wrong, Miguel?"
"Nada." (Nothing)
"Mentiroso. ¿Qué te pasa?" (Liar, what's wrong?
Silence. You were done with it.
"You haven't spoke much ever since we got back from my old house. You're not... even looking at me!"
"Your family thinks I'm a freak."
You frowned and shook your head.
"And I apologize for that. I warned you about them-"
"Thanks for the fucking late warning"
His massive back heaved with subtle anger as it turned to you. His hands in his waist.
"Miguel..." Your eyes went wide at his words, head buzzed with his hurtful words.
"I bet you didn't even tell them about me."
His accusing tone was certainly tugging too hard at your heart seams. "I barely keep communication with them, Miguel. You out of everyone knows it!"
"Are you ashamed of me?" His self doubt threw daggers at your heart with each syllable that formed the question.
"W-What?"
"¿Qué no oyes? Te avergüenzas de mí o qué?! (Didn't you hear, are you ashamed of me or what?!)
"Le bajas a tu tono que no eres mi papá. No le permití jamás levantarme la voz para que tú lo hagas ahora." (Chill your tone down, you're not my father. I never allowed him to do so for you to come at me like that now.)
"And now you're scared of me"
"Listen to yourself, Miguel! Pull your head out of your ass for a second and listen to how you're talking to me! Haven't I been there for you and with you since last year?"
Gabriel gave a silent whistle as your fight grew loud enough for him to hear everything outside Miguel's bedroom door. He retreated to his room out of politeness.
"Yeah, we've been-"
"Then why you act like I'm being a burden to you all out the sudden? Why are you acting like I'm the one that hurt you?! You know that I'd never do that!. I'm not my family, Miguel."
Your voice cracked.
He shook his head. He had seen the way everyone stared at him when he tried to open the beer with his teeth. Fearful, disgusted.
The exact way he was looking at you.
To say it hurt was an understatement. He was deliberately prying open your chest and ripping your heart out while showing off and marveling at the process of such act.
"You... You don't wanna be with me anymore?"
The question sent a painful jab to his chest, but his wounded ego had taken all the controls on his rational side.
"Maybe it's time for you to get someone that's fucking normal. I'm clearly not. So why staying?"
A hiccup.
"Because I love you, you fucking idiot!"
A sob, and his heart sunk deeper.
Apologize. Now.
His mind chanted but his pride joined in the maneuvering of his spilled and jagged emotions. Adding more dry bones to the fire.
"But clearly this... this isn't working out, isn't it?"
"Clearly."
Your head nodded as your arms braced your quivering form. A meek protection from his cutting words.
"Sorry to have wasted your time then." You spoke in between angry sobs as you removed the necklace he once gifted you and shoved it back to his hand.
His bottom lip pursed as he saw you picking up the little traces of you in a haste. He went for your shoulder gently.
"Mira, yo-" (Look, I-)
You recoiled away from him as silent tears kept rolling down your face. Some watered the carpet underneath your feet.
"You've said enough."
A way too polite 'Don't Touch Me"
You picked up your things in your arms, messily. The room was clutching at your throat, cutting bit by bit your breaths, but Miguel's indifference was the one that made your head spin from the sudden lack of air. He was killing you with his suffocating coldness.
You hadn't mind the little brostbites he'd gave you, but this one had been too bad for you to keep holding it up. The burn had been too much. Too fast and too deep for you to properly process. All you knew is that you needed to get out.
Now.
Bundling up the things in the cardigan, you went out his bedroom's door.
Stop
His steps followed you, but this time he was the one unable to catch up. You were already closing the main door with a quiet close.
His hands trembled as they found their way on each side of his hips. Gripping and provoking enough pressure to at least feel a fraction of the pain he just put you through.
The necklace in his hand still warm. His own heat dulling yours. Just like your smile. Just like you. Just like every damn thing that made him feel good and happy.
Self sabotage was his best trait. Something he clearly forgot to warn you. But it was late.
The texture of the metal chain crunched underneath his fist.
Too late.
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#atsv miguel#soccer family ⚽🕷️#Pre Soccer Family ⚽🕷️#miguel o'hara angst#t writes✨
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Okay, why the hell not?
For the Dune promo, my head had come up with a story about Jack without asking, for various reasons though it never made it completely onto paper.
But now that it's Jack's birthday... I thought maybe I'd just post the beginning as a birthday present… lol
But don’t worry, Jack, it’s rather harmless, I would say.
The shield that you own
*
Jack grabbed Tim under the arms to hold him better. Even though Tim was as light as a feather, they were all uncontrollably heavy when drunk. Tim giggled at the contact, his head falling heavily onto Jack's shoulder.
"What kind of bodyguard are you? ... Are you trying to tickle me to death? You should know by now that I'm ticklish!" Tim's voice was slurred and mumbling and the tone became childish and provocative, when he continued, "You could carry me...?"
Without responding, Jack dragged Tim further through the hotel room door, half supporting, half pulling, under his arm, around his waist, just where his balance was giving way, while trying not to lose Tim’s jacket that he already had taken off. Of course, he could have carried him instead, this skinny little creature who was nevertheless lighter when drunk than some when sober, but there was more than one reason to avoid it.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tim curl his lips into an exaggerated pout. "You're never any fun, Jack!"
Jack raised his eyebrows as if to say "Really?" but ignored Tim's comment apart from that as well as Tim's far-too-close lips, from which a whiff of tequila emanated, and concentrated instead on getting Tim to the bed.
They were in Mexico city, a huge premiere of Dune 2 in this huge city had just taken place this evening and the after party hadn't been wild, but it had apparently been enough to make Tim giggle uncontrollably. Sometimes it didn't take much for the adulation of the masses to get him drunk. First the senses were hyped, wide smile, wide eyes, wide talk, than followed giddy drunkenness.
At the bed, Jack let go of Tim so he could fall onto the bed, but Tim didn't let go of him, so Jack toppled over with him. He tried to catch himself with his hands, but he couldn't catch his whole body, so his face brushed Tim's cheek and his nose buried deep down in those god damn dark curls.
Tim giggled beneath him. And Jack decided to give himself a millisecond. They were familiar with each other, very familiar, also physically, and yet this closeness always did something to him.
The soft tickle of the curls on his skin and the smell of Jamie's hair styling products in his nose made Jack close his eyes for another millisecond.
Then the two milliseconds were over and he sat up again, ignoring the vague tugging in his body, heart as loins, instead lifted Tim's legs onto the bed and set about removing his boots while Tim rolled on the bed and grumbled like a drunken teen.
It wasn't that often that Tim got drunk, but it wasn't the first time either. Jack knew Tim liked the buzz, even if he was too worried to indulge in it too often.
In a fit of energy Tim humped the bed, “Goddd… Austin was looking sex-ayyy tonight, right? Wanted to fuck him right there.”
Jack ignored the comment, pulled on the second boot and placed it next to the bed.
Tim lifted his head and looked at him, "I can't believe you put them on the floor, instead of just letting them fall!" He sounded somehow shocked, admiring and teasing at the same time.
Jack laughed. He liked it when Tim made fun of him, it was always... affectionate.
But then Tim closed his eyes again and Jack could see the buzz working in his head.
He let his gaze linger on Tim's face.
The face of an innocent angel.
He resisted the impulse to brush a curl of hair from this face.
The angel was not meant for him.
It was time to go.
Jack adjusted his jacket, "Do you need anything?"
With the last of his strength, Tim straightened up, grabbed Jack's arm and pulled him onto the bed so that Jack ended up lying next to him.
"Don't go," Tim's breath hitched against Jack’s face.
Again Jack closed his eyes for a moment. He had been so determined that it wouldn't happen again and now he had to admit to himself that he had only deceived himself.
For a while they just lay there, Tim breathing, searching his way through the grogginess, Jack watching him, feeling the gentle ripples of air on his face with every breath Tim took…
When Tim's head carousel seemed to slow down a little, Tim laid his hands on Jack's face. "It was awesome, wasn't it?" His eyes opened briefly before closing again. "All those crowds..."
Yes, the fans, the crowds, the masses...
Tim loved that. Bathing in the crowd, being admired by the masses.
The crowd electrified him, turned him on.
Made him horny.
And now the thought of it was apparently enough to reawaken his sex drive.
Tim rubbed his crotch lightly against Jack's thigh.
An audible gasp.
Jack bit his lower lip.
Then another rub.
Tim's breathing a little louder this time, Tim's cock noticeably harder.
The desire spread through Tim's tired body, waking him up, making him more alert and horny by the second until it finally took over.
Tim swung himself over Jack, propped himself up with his hands to the right and left of Jack, his head lowered, his curls in free fall, and looked at him with a glazed expression.
He looked so beautiful, so hot. Jack couldn't say it any other way. It wasn't his fault he was getting weak.
Tim lowered his pelvis, rubbing against his, pressing their hard cocks together.
Almost automatically Jack went to Tim's cock, squeezed it through his pants and Tim groaned.
Jack knew what this was all about, what Tim wanted.
And even if Jack didn't necessarily want to admit it to himself, he wanted nothing more than to fulfill Tim's wish.
Tim humped into Jack's hand, moaning, and Jack's fingers eventually found their way into his pants, under his underpants, feeling the warmth, the soft skin, and wrapped around Tim's hard cock as Tim's moans vibrated louder and louder through his body.
Tim's glazed look was both present and absent. As if he wanted to take Jack back there to the masses again. They had both experienced it, had both been there, how the crowds had loved Tim, had wanted him. If it had been up to them, they would have all wanted to touch him, grab him, tear his clothes off, and if it had been up to Tim, Tim would have wanted that too, to feel that love, on his body, hands on his bare and naked skin, fingers reaching for him, digging into his flesh, mouths kissing and tongues licking every inch of him, wanting him, loving him, bringing him to climax.
Jack was sure Tim was having sex with all those people in his head right then when Jack pumped him hard, Tim’s gaze dark, his lips moist.
It didn't take long now, Tim was exhausted, this wasn't about maximizing pleasure, about extensive sex. What had built up had to come out.
Jack felt the hard cock twitch, smelled the sex already, and Tim came with a loud moan. "Ahh!"
The cum was warm and sticky on Jack's fingers.
Jack knew what it tasted like.
Tim dropped down close to Jack and again the damn curls tickled Jack's nose.
Tim reached tiredly and lazily for Jack's cock.
It wasn't half-hearted, but it was far from promising either.
"You don't need to-" Jack said.
"No, I don't want you -"
"No, it's okay."
Tim rubbed his nose tiredly against Jack's shoulder. "Sure?"
"Yeah..."
"I'll make it good for you another time, okay?"
Jack laughed softly.
Tim snuggled up to him. "Sorry, I stained your suit."
"It's okay." It wasn't the first time.
Jack tried to straighten up. "But I should go now."
Tim's heavy arm across him stopped him. "No… Don't be stupid."
Jack took a deep breath, for a while wondering if he should insist. For his own self, which would only nag him again tomorrow.
But he was pretty inept at letting Tim down. Always had been.
"Can I at least take my jacket off?" He tried to take it lightly.
"Yeah sorry..." Tim took his arm away.
Jack took off his jacket, half rose from the bed to throw it over the back of the chair, took off his shoes and deliberately dropped them on the floor.
Tim chuckled with half-closed eyes. "Good for you!"
Jack smiled, albeit a little melancholically, and lay back down in bed a little away from Tim, but Tim immediately moved and cuddled up to him.
"Did you see the girl who wanted the tattoo and what I wrote?" Tim asked quietly and dreamily.
"Of course." Tim always wanted Jack to hear everything funny he said or did.
"Man, I was shaking so much..."
Yes, Jack had noticed that.
It was always fascinating to Jack that some things never changed. Of course, Tim was an old hand on the red carpet by now, and even if he knew by now how to hide it very well, the crowds not only electrified him, they also still intimidated him as hell.
"I felt you behind me," Tim whispered quietly. "You know when I leaned up to that fan? You stepped up, too. I was so glad that I had you in my back."
"It's my job."
"You took care of me."
Tim looked Jack deep into his eyes, not drunk, but not sober either, and gently pressed his lips to Jack's.
"I couldn't do any of this without you, you know that, right?"
Jack held his breath, looked at Tim, although he wanted nothing else than to close his eyes.
And he didn't know if he hated Tim more for saying that, or himself for wanting to believe it.
***
#how the hell should I tag this#timothée chalamet#timothée chalamet fanfic#Is there already a story about Timmy's bodyguard?#There would also be Charmie coming up but not in the beginning so I skip that too#yeah well whatever#Jack's birthday#can you believe it jack?#you made it into a fanfic!#though I don't think that a lot of people we'll read it#it doesn't fit the scheme#but happy birthay anyway#jackpatron6#weird right?
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ok official sd anon reply while i am waiting for this flight to take off !!!
pronouns she/her so hot girl summer is Accurate hooked up w intern friend before we left for plane rice purity score has dropped to 57. it was like 90 at the beginning of this summer. what is happening to me. hope your followers enjoy my Life Updates too because they are definitely. something. how is it that i can check off threesome but not held hands romantically LMAO
lmao i’ll actually get a twitter to check ! if i see you in the crowd i will just send you another anon ask or smth no idea
also yes!! open mic was so so fun i really enjoyed i’m gonna miss it and the host and the people! last time i went there was a chemE phd dude reading a poem and then i told him i was also chemE and he then proceeded to try to convince me to get a phd. it will not be happening.
fifth grade best friend <3 i love her <3 i might visit her over the school year! just dip for a weekend to go see her
also holy shit dude i feel like this round of covid is worse i haven’t gotten it yet ( knock on wood ) but idk that sounds really scary
also pedialyte in rock candy! was not good the rock candy didn’t fully crystallize so it was just pedialyte sugar LMAO half syrup half hard candy it looked so funny bc we taped chopsticks together in a cross to make a little platform for the stick to rest on so now it just looks like a bunch of crucifixes in red liquid
also dude i am in the same boat now that the internship is over LMAO i kept making i’m gonna call HR jokes though
tequila taste bad. idk what it is about it ! but i got told i was taking a tequila shot on tuesday at top golf and i didn’t gag taking it!!!! one of the other interns was like i’m so proud of you you’ve grown so much since she watched me gag on the first six at the beginning of the year lmao
also <333 thank you!!!! ok tbf it is glorified file explorer i once again feel like i shouldn’t be given this much responsibility but yes i did put in a lot of work and it’s something the place is gonna use for the foreseeable future! so ! i’m happy about the effort i put in. also on my last two days i got to crawl inside a boiler when it was off and then open up another one + stand on top of it. very cool.
oooh congrats!!! it’s so hard to get good summer session grades cause i feel like people taking summer classes are more concentrated in whatever field they’re in! i am still hating physics have not gone to a single class yet (asynch so it’s fine)
also what. what does that even mean. i’m taking molecular bio next sem but oh my god i know exactly what you mean about bluescreening bc someone asked me smth about azeotropes and i just brain blanked entirely even though it was just last sem. what class is that for???
aww ok that’s such a good job but the separation sucks. i’m glad you got to spend time w your best friend! how were the bars do you have any stories?
it’s so funny our situations are flipped but similar bc i go down to sd to see my best friend since she’s graduating early for law school and she sometimes comes up to la when i have classes.
also :( sf trip :(
is there like stuff you could do w science related writing? idk one of my interviewers talked abt like. being able to explain science in easy terms to the general public is a super valuable skill!! my mom keeps telling me go law bc science knowledge is v much desired. lab tech pay sucks lmao
but!!! you will find a good job you like and also your writing is great i’m a huge fan i fully believe you can break into the writing industry
also fashion industry????? what?????
omg your friend that’s so impressive phd right out of undergrad in BOSTON???
also also plane is taking off but I AGREE I AM NOT READY FOR ADULTHOOD i have had three separate conversations about other people thinking about if they want kids and i’m like. we are basically still children. wtf. stop.
AYYY HOT GIRL SUMMER FR
that is such a rice purity drop holy shit. really how HAVE you been able to check off threesome but not hold hands romantically like?? you're doing all the steps backwards but hey if you're having fun with it who cares!
fun fact i'm not logged into this tumblr on my phone. i have two tumblr accounts, my og and this one, and I only stay logged into this one on my computer while I keep my og one on my phone. so anytime you guys send asks if i'm not at my computer i'm not gonna see it for a while lol
yeah i don't blame you for not wanting to go the phd route. I have some friends that are preparing to defend their theses rn and it seems so unbelievably stressful
I mean I think I would've had the chest pain whenever I got covid whether it be this round or an earlier one since I had the same chest pain when I got vaccinated. like I think it's just my body's response to the covid antigens or smth, but yeah either way it's not fun
yeah had a feeling pedialyte rock candy wasn't gonna work out
tequila shots aren't that bad depending on the quality of the tequila so good for you!!
even if it's a glorified file explorer it's clearly gonna provide a really useful service to the company and it still takes skill to implement and categorize services like that so!! give yourself credit that's still so cool!! also ayyy fun boiler times that sounds very cool
god that's such a mood i also hate physics. one of the summer session classes i took last session was physics, and now i'm in physics again but it's physics lab this time so it's a bit less intensive. still hate it :( and yeah summer session classes are usually hard for me bc they're so rushed but it is what it is
lol that question was for a class i'm taking on the molecular basis of human disease. the lectures aren't super complicated, but then for the homework we have to read these super dense research papers that use a ton of complex terminology. basically the question is just asking why these two mutation genes we were reading about were named the way they were. so like why is the C580Y gene named the way it is was something I had to answer. I think I got it right but I really have no idea lmaoooo
the bars were good!! the only real story I have is when we went to the part time lover bar in SD (with the peach cocktail I recommended you) we met this group of british guys who were roadtripping around California and ended up chatting with them the whole night. they were very nice and fun to talk to, and instead of trying to hit on us like we both expected, at one point they asked us if we met on tinder and that's when me and my friend realized they thought we were dating which was extremely funny. we did nothing to dissuade the assumption. very fun time overall!
it is funny how our situations are flipped. also yoooo graduating early for law school?? that's so cool good for her!!
I've considered science writing but tbh I don't think it's something I'd wanna do?? like if I can find jobs for it I'll take them of course but that would definitely be more of a temporary gig and not a full blown pursue this type deal
aww thank you I really hope I'll be able to break in somewhere in the writing industry. it's been my dream to be a published author ever since I was a little kid so let's hold out hope lmao
fashion industry! my mom has her own clothing brand! she's been doing this since I was 5, so I basically grew up in the industry since I always went to trade shows and photoshoots with her. I'm very good at working for her because I don't need any training really since I grew up just watching my mom work and helping her out every once in a while. the industry is very stressful but it's still pretty cool! just not something I want to do career-wise
RIGHT?? it was the only phd program she applied to. she said "yeah I'm just gonna apply and if I don't get in I don't get in it's fine I'll wait a few years" bc she wasn't planning on doing grad school right out of undergrad anyway, but then she got in and was like oh guess it was meant to be
every time i open instagram either someone my age is getting married or having kids like. what. please stop we're still so young oh my godddd
have a safe flight!
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Wait girl you muttered it xdd? Oof that's rough lol
Oh cool :))
Ooh the dramaa
What she changed it?
Ohhh :oo
Aww :'))
I mean it's probably been a long time since then ://
AWW she wants you as her mentor :'D
Aw :'( but no I bet that's a good thing :'))
Yeah :'DD
You got this girl 🥰🥰
Oh we actually haven't done it?
Ahh maybe the muttering was her at the beginning of that scene lol
Eh, idrk lol
Ooh girl slay!
Using a mentor quote for her's too :'DD
Go off :))
Ahh and noticing details comes in handy :)) :'D <33
YESS judge him based on who he is :DD
Slayyy 🥰🥰🥰
Girl just straight up go off :DD
Oop!
AYYY that's the mentor lady isn't it :DDDD
I bet it is :')))
Awww their mom 🥰🥰🥰
And she looks back at her :')))
Aww <333
That was the moment she decided I bet :'D or thought about becoming a lawyer anyway/at least :))
Ooop we're waiting!
Y'all better just be emotional and not like sad bc of how the case went or smth xdd just a teeeensy bit stressed ik it's probably just emotions
But :'DDDD AWW AYY "You are a good lawyer" :)))) :'DD <333 🥰❤️❤️
Phew okay yeah lol still deciding
AYYYY WE WON :DDDD
🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🎉🎉🎊🎊🎊
SLAY GIRL :DDDD
Good job 🥰🥰🥰
LOL favorite child xD
Aww "because you love me" :)))
I love them they're adorable <33
Ayyy he guys :DDD
Tequila 🥰🥰
Sorry Lea lol xdd
Ope what is it then?
SLFKFKJHDJS L O L
XDD Girl doesn't even wanna look
Eh mood though lol
Good for Shaun though xD 🥰🥰
Aww :)))
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142.8
Recording it anyways even though it doesn’t feel like a win atm. Lowest weight ever though ayyy
Went for a slower walk today because my legs were hurting from exercising yesterday so much, but got my Starbucks iced tea lemonade and sandwich and did a little extra walking from my normal route. Didn’t do a workout cause I went to the zoo with my family tonight so I counted that all as my movement today. Drank some tequila and didn’t have supper but ate more in the morning; was gonna try and make it until this morning to eat cause I weighed 142.4 when I got home (but I think the scale was wrong even though I weighed myself 3 times) but I was having trouble sleeping and got the grossest pukey feeling come over me. I drank a bit of water to let it pass but then I just called it quits and went and ate the last of my Vietnamese leftovers. Don’t feel great about not being able to weigh myself on an empty stomach for once in the morning, but I have work today so I’m not pushing anything. I’ve been doing better with eating and working out in general though, so I really hope I’m able to keep it up and hopefully lose a little more. I’d die to see myself under 140 lol 🙏 I don’t think this is a setback but a little disappointing. I’m just glad to see my work and changes actually do make a difference and is paying off finally though.
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6/2/22
first two days of "training" are in the books. tonight was "friends and family night" so we barley had any customers; it was good to start getting the hang of things and realize what we still need to prepare for (we don't have BITTERS or EITHER KIND OF VERMOUTH)
tmrw is our "soft open" ie we are opening fully tomorrow, but aside from the signs in our windows saying so, all of our advertisements are going to say that our opening day is Saturday the 4th. so that's good, tomorrow will be another day of getting used to how things roll but with a skosh more customers hopefully.
i made a bunch of crushes today- three orange creamsicles (vanilla vodka + orange juice) and then the next round was grapefruit, orange, pomegranate, and orange. next customers who came upstairs (cuz yr "boy" was on the roof today ayyy) just got a couple corona premiums and one michelob ultra. and wings. lol idk why I'm listing out all the drinks i made this is insanely boring to read i bet.
oh! and my, manager?, trainer?, idk what her position is lol but anyways I made her shift drink which was a Georgia Peach. its basically a LIT but instead of triple sec its peach schnapps, and instead of sour mix/lemon juice its sprite and instead of coke its a splash of cranberry juice. I tried a bit of it, and even though I HATE tequila I thought it was very good! I'll have to remember that when I start getting shifties.
one more things before I go: WE GET SHIFT DRINKS!! I was asking about what we are allowed to get as a shiftie and they seem pretty generous. all of the drinks on our cocktail list are up for grabs, and apparently there are a few more liquors on the list that we are allowed to pick from. my manager/trainer seemed to think that Bulliet was one of the liquors we are allowed; I'm a bit skeptical if that's actually the case but I am certainly not gonna argue! looking forward to trying all our bourbon (we don't have much but we have the basics and one or two reallyyyy expensive ones) and getting my old fashioned on this summer. (again, I am deliriously pretentious for a heroin addict)
#journal#my journal#bartender#restaurant workers#mixology#orange crush#grapefruit crush#old fashioned#bourbon#vodka#vodka cocktail#whiskey cocktail
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Hello if you're not busy can you write a HC with Daichi, Bokuto, and Kuroo and how they act when they drink at a party with you?
Thank you for this request!!!! Lets just age them up to college!
Daichi, Bokuto, and Kuroo at a College Party
➣ Daichi
He’s such a responsible drunk like he is the best boyfriend to have at a party. Like I’m sure all of these guys would be super protective of you the whole night but Daichi is on another level
He is always pouring drinks for you because he doesn’t know everyone at the party and he doesn’t want someone to try and pull a fast one
Daichi always has a hand either wrapped around your waist, resting on your hip, or holding yours because he wants to keep an eye on you
Even if Daichi is having the time of his life, he is always making sure you’re okay
Lots of “ Do you want to sit down?” and “ Let me know when you want to go home, okay?”
He’s def the boyfriend where if you have longer hair, he wears a hairband or scrunchie on his wrist so he can pull it up to a ponytail if you’re sweaty or throwing up
I know he sounds super protective, which he is, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have fun. Think about it, he is always babysitting his teammates so when he has the chance to let loose, he takes the opportunity
Daichi is a classic Budweiser man I stand behind that and I do not take complaints
He doesn’t really play drinking games. He likes to go to parties either to hang out with friends he hasn’t seen in a long time orrrrrrr KARAOKE
Even if there isn’t a karaoke machine, he’ll always sing super loud whenever a song comes on that he knows and that alone makes the whole party sing along
If the songs are trash he’ll take over the AUX and have the whole house bumping and that’s a fact
No matter how drunk he gets, he still uses common sense so if one of his friends tries jumping off a table, he scoops them up and off the table before they even attempt it
Daddies intuition what can I say
I know there’s that trend where how the Haikyuu boys catch it when you’re throwing back AND I KNOW DAICHI CAN CATCH IT
He’s such a smooth motherfucker and he loves when you do it because he knows other people are watching
I am simping so hard for this 2D man
➣ Bokuto
Bokuto is clearly a frat boy that isn’t in a frat if that makes sense
Like he hates all of the shaddy shit that goes down in Greek Life
The idea of that false sense of brotherhood and hazing sets him off but but he radiates playing beer pong with sunglasses and thats a fact
He has that energy where “ the party doesn’t start until Bokuto walks in” because he always brings it up another level
If you went to a party with Bokuto, be prepared to have all of the attention on the two of you because this boy is even LOUDER than usual
Sober Bokuto is already a proud boyfriend so the alcohol would only dial him up even more
Lots of “ This is my s/o aren’t they so cute????..... OF COURSE THEY ARE HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT?”
“ Kotaro they were agreeing with you.”
“ Oh my bad man! Y/N, be on my team for beer pong!”
He would know everybody at a party and even if he didn’t know some random person there, by the end of the night they would definitely be best friends
Bokuto never really gets too drunk but seemingly everyone around him does because he is such a big hypeman and maybe that could lead to peer pressure but he can’t help it
He won’t ever force you to drink but if you are drinking, he hypes you up constantly
“ THAT’S MY BABY AYYY! LETS GOOO!”
This boy is so affectionate when he is drunk, he loves telling you how amazing you look and how happy you make him while he gives you a bunch of kisses across your face
His breath smells like Malibu but you don’t even mind THAT much
He gets sappy sometimes and he loves attention so if he’s giving you kisses but you don’t, he gets whiny asf
“ What about me? Where’s my loving? “ cue Bokuto pouting as you roll your eyes but of course you can’t leave your boyfriend hanging
Bokuto can party all night but once he sees that you’re tired or you’re done with partying, he will say his goodbyes and gets an uber so you guys can go home ( NONE OF THE HAIKYUU BOYS DRINK AND DRIVE AND I STAND BY THAT)
➣ Kuroo
I don’t care what anyone says, Kuroo is a freaking dork and he should be treated as such
Sober Kuroo is a huge ass nerd so when he drinks, he’ll make random-ass, smart comments throughout the night as if it’s common knowledge
“ Baby did you know that the hydrogen atoms in your body are almost 13.5 billion years old because they were created at the birth of the universe?”
“ What are you even talking about?”
“ I don’t know but I need some water, my head hurts- hey where did Kenma go?”
He is just sooooo talkative when he drinks like he’ll talk people’s ear off and somewhat annoy them but Kuroo is just so oblivious it doesn’t even bother him
He also loooooooves dancing. He’s such a bad dancer in real life like I’m sorry that hoe has no rhythm at all but when he is drunk??? The flavor is immaculate!!
He dances like a stripper at a bachelorette party I-
Grinding, thrusting and smirking and he thinks he is just being so sexy which he kinda is I mean LOOK AT HIM
If you’re just sitting on the couch talking to a friend, 10/10 times he will try to give you a lapdance while you’re trying to have a conversation
“ Yeah I mean these finals were so rough-”
“ Did someone order a lapdance?”
“ What are you- TETSURO!”
He would never have sex with you if either of you are drunk but he’ll still you slow kisses on your neck if the two of you find yourselves alone because he just can’t help himself
His choice of drink/game would be bodyshots because again, just look at him do I really have to defend this statement? He is a tequila whore and a sexy beast so the will totally be up for doing body shots off of you but he will get sooooo pissed off if someone even tries doing it off of you
Drunk Kuroo is the love of my life thank you
#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!! x reader#haikyuu headcanon#haikyuu!! headcanon#haikyuu hc#haikyuu!! hc#haikyuu smut#haikyuu!! smut#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu!! imagine#daichi#daichi x reader#daichi sawamura#daichi sawamura x reader#daichi headcanon#bokuto#bokuto x reader#kotaro bokuto#kotaro bokuto x reader#kuroo testsuro#kuroo#kuroo x reader#kuroo testsuro x reader#tetsuro kuroo#tetsuro kuroo x readear#tetsuro kuroo x reader
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Firstly I have just finished a tequila beer so cheers and happy Fanfic Writers Appreciation Day! 🍹💖
Ayyy cheers to you too!!! 💗🥳💖🥳 super excited to get into more of your writing honestly!!!
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Coming into the place just before closing time Lena sat at one end of the almost empty bar and rested her chin in her hand "Is it too late to get a shot of tequila and your phone number?"
“ayyy, princess that one was smoooth” he laughs, “if i give you the shot does that mean i can get a kiss, hmm? also don’t tell my boss but for you, on the house.”
@alxvensxoul
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The Deal - Chapter 3
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (web series)
Pairing: Alastor / Angel Dust
Warnings: human!Angel Dust (Anthony), Deal with a devil AU
Summary: Sometimes you had nobody to spend the Christmas with. Sometimes you didn’t want to. Sometimes you took a chalk and drew a pentagram on the floor fully ready to deal with anything that would come out as an alternative to self-pity occurring otherwise.
or
The time when Anthony thought if he can’t get anybody to love him properly, he can just make a deal with a devil and find out what affection feels like. Alastor thinks this mortal is pitiful beyond belief and concede. Cuddles happen.
Can be found on Ao3.
Notes: Holy shit, this took long, and should probably take longer but I'm just itching to get all this out of my system, so here it is. Also realized Alastor’s gloves are not fucking black and red lmao, but burgundy, fuuuck. Changed it.
Unbetad!
2020, January 18th
“What did ya think I’d say to a dead deer in my living room?!” Anthony almost fell out of the window for how far out from his flat he was leaning, trying to get rid of the corpse stench that assaulted his senses. “Is it some kind of fuckin’ peace offering? Like sorry, I fucked up, here’s a dead deer?!”
“A deer for my dear~,” Alastor singsonged in response while happily cutting vegetable at the kitchen counter, as if there was no stinky corpse in the flat, bloody and so, so dead.
“No, fuck you,” Anthony growled back into the flat, not bothering to turn even a little. “I hate you.”
“Now, now, cher, lyin’s bad for your health.”
“You are bad for my health!” he turned to the demon with an accusatory finger pointed at his face, and then made a retching noise when the smell of blood reached his nostrils. His hangover state couldn’t handle the smallest deviation from normal and corpses were definitely not in top 1000 of smells he was used to. Alastor didn’t even raise an eyebrow, he just calmly continued his ministrations as if he just didn’t carve the poor deceased animal right in the very room. Wasn’t it some sort of cannibalism if he would eat anything made from that thing? A deer eating another deer? Was that even allowed?
“Dat might be tru,” the demon agreed after a moment of pondering. “Demons are rarely good fer people.”
“Ugh,” Anthony sagged against the windowsill and the icy wind blew snowflakes into his face. “Seriously, why did ya even bring this thing. Where did ya even get it? A whole fuckin’ deer…”
“Hunted it down,” Alastor shrugged and walked towards the sink where the meat was resting pitifully (in Anthony’s opinion), portioned, but also skinned with surprising skill, not elaborating on the hunting part like it was his favourite hobby and not worth questioning. “It’s our weekend. Wanted to cook for you.”
Our weekend sounded sweet. Anthony wanted to be wary of that, but he was just a human and he liked it despite the possible danger lying in those words. After all that went down, it was apparent Alastor saw him as something akin to a pet project, a “unfuck this guy before he dies” sort of challenge, if his I’m going to fix you eventually speech was sincere. Who knew if anything about this person was sincere in general, but making dumb life decisions was Anthony’s forte so maybe he was inclined to believe the demon anyway.
“’K,” he huffed, his stomach finally calming down and he started to get chilly. “Just… tell me when yer done with the raw meat shit. The tequila is not agreeing with me otherwise.”
There was no answer until after several minutes he felt a hand touching his lower back and a body leaning against him to join him at the window.
“Aren’t you cold ‘ere?” Alastor asked as if he just didn’t squeeze in with him at the window and his warmth was a stark contrast with the chilly wind blowing outside.
“Well, not anymore,” he forced himself to remain on spot and not lean into the contact, more out of spite than anything else, but Alastor did it for him, hugging him from the side.
Hugging… him, what?
He must have felt the rigidness of Anthony’s body, there was no way he would not. Sure, they talked about hugs, but Alastor never looked like he was going to act on it anytime soon, and this was definitely soon as fuck.
“Meat is boilin’ and I put rest in da fridge,” Alastor’s voice was so, so close.
“I have a dead deer in my fridge now?” the human faked a reprimanding tone and the arm around him tightened and he felt Alastor nuzzling his hair. Oh. He wasn’t lying when he said he and his shadow are one person, because this felt familiar – only much warmer.
“Oi,” he nudged the man. “If ya feel like huggin’, I want a proper hug.” And took a step back and opened his arms.
Alastor hummed… and went back to the kitchen counter.
“Don’t push your luck, cher,” he said instead, like he didn’t just leave Anthony hanging, probably also out of spite. “How ‘bout you peel potatoes instead?”
“Wow,” Anthony let his arms drop down. “Just wow.”
He helped with the potatoes anyway and tried ridiculously hard to ignore the fact Alastor’s Bambi tail was wagging all this time.
***
2020, February 13th
“I have a request.”
“Only one this time?”
Anthony refused to feel offended by that. Alastor had been bitchy for a week now, probably had to do something with Hell fucking with his control kink, but it usually only made him snarkier, rather than hostile. Anthony wouldn’t probably even notice if the demon didn’t snap on Wednesday and Anthony’s living room suddenly resembled a boutique with at least fifty racks of clothes haphazardly appearing where was still free space, making Anthony stare at it like a child during Christmas. It wasn’t a bad “snap” Alastor had, actually seemed like a nice gesture until he said: Now be a good boy, Anthony, pick something nice and be quiet. If I hear one more word from you, one of those jackets is going to strangle you to death. So, Anthony shut up and Alastor eventually calmed down enough to allow him to speak again without the static going haywire (and he also let him keep the clothes, ayyy).
State Alastor was in also meant no touching policy. Anthony taught himself not to initiate anything unless in bed about a month ago already but still sometimes slipped when Alastor was too close – and it usually didn’t rouse a bad reaction (unless it was about the tail. Or the ears), but if Anthony tried it when the static was loud and grating, he’d risk a limb. He didn’t have a problem to keep his distance at that point and Alastor seemed to appreciate it.
But now it sucked.
“Ya know, tomorrow is the 14th,” the human pointed out, sitting sprawled in the comfy oversized cushion he bought himself two weeks ago and at which Alastor scoffed for some reason. It was the best thing to laze in ever, the demon had no taste. “And ya know.”
“I am not sure what I should know on the 14th,” the demon uttered, his red eyes not leaving a page of his book for a second. He was seated on the couch with enough distance between two of them that could be still considered social and as hanging out instead of we had an argument so we’re not talking to each other, which was technically not true. They didn’t argue since the tequila fiasco and that cleared up anyway. This was mostly just… precaution.
“Well, I know this is your last day this week,” Anthony tried different approach and sat more properly on the cushion. Not that it helped much, since he was sporting a pink crop top hoodie and booty shorts and Alastor already expressed certain distaste for it, but didn’t demand him to go change, so it was at least a small victory.
“Indeed, it is,” Alastor responded primly, turning a page in slow pace, like a snob he was sometimes. Another thing about the bitchy state of his was the speech. He never let it slip like he usually did when they were together, just talked like a radio all the time like he was keeping his barriers up almost hysterically. Anthony didn’t question it, but he sure did miss his Cajun accent a lot. It felt much warmer and softer than the radio show host persona Alastor normally presented, although it was probably just his form of coping.
“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, bracing for inevitable refusal that was going to meet his demand. He knew Alastor well enough to distinguish when he was not going to be swayed, and it definitely reached that point. “Just wondered if maybe you’d stay one more day.”
“I am quite busy, dear,” Alastor responded as Anthony thought he would. “You could have planned it a week prior if you knew 14th was an important date.”
It was like talking to a computer at this point. Please leave a message, beep.
“Ya, I could have,” Anthony admitted and let it go. It wasn’t like Valentine’s Day was something special for either of them. Or, honestly, meant anything to their relationship. Maybe there was some Deal day in hell’s calendar they could open bottle of wine to down the year eventually.
A sigh and Alastor was putting his book down, his smile rather strained.
Uh oh.
“Anthony,” there was the Name CallingTM, “if you have something to say, say it.”
“Nothin’,” the human shrugged while sagging back into the cushion. “Three days are up.”
It was the weekend-less week now too and Anthony knew Alastor was itching to get back to hell to deal with whatever was needing his attention and he sort of thought of telling him if he really needed to go, he could, despite the deal saying otherwise, but was selfish and never did.
“I am not going to repeat myself,” the static rumbled more, meaning the bitching mode intensified and Anthony groaned. He should have kept his mouth shut.
“It’s just Valentine’s Day, ‘s all,” he mumbled and right the moment the sentence left his mouth, he would shoot himself if he could, because even to his ears it sounded so… cringy. Like he was expecting Alastor to bring him flowers and have dinner together with candles and all that bullshit they do in the movies. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “Actually. Forget it. I dunno why I even thought about it, for fuck’s sake.”
“Lover’s day,” Alastor didn’t forget it. Oh no.
“Yeah, but I didn’t mean it that way, honest,” Anthony quickly assured him, and really wished Alastor would just shrug it off and return to his book like love never interested him. Since it never did. He was such an anti-intimate and anti-sexual person Anthony suspected him of really being just a little alien in a robotic body, like in Men in Black.
“Then what did you mean by asking me to stay on the Lover’s day?”
Oh yeah, okay, bastard mode activated now as well. Just keen on marinating Anthony in his own sweat and tears from the obvious mistake. Classic Alastor.
“Nothin’,” he piped defensively.
“Nothing would not make you ask me to stay one more day on Lover’s day,” Alastor was staring at him like a laser now, just burning through his skull. He was obviously super into making Anthony squirm in self-pity from his bad life decisions.
“Please, forget I asked.”
“No.”
“Pleaaaaase.”
“No.”
And that was it. That was the end. That was Anthony herded into an imaginary corner with nowhere to go, and Alastor was already turning towards him, and he couldn’t say if the smile was mischievous or angry. Lately the border between those was thin as fuck.
“I just thought a company on the most depressing day of the fuckin’ year would be nice, is all,” he gritted his teeth under Alastor’s red-eyed stare. “Like. We could watch some chic-flics on TV and drink wine and laugh at it, I don’t know.”
“You know how I feel about the picture show shenanigans,” Alastor shot right back, as expected. He learned to more or less tolerate when Anthony wanted to watch something on TV in his presence, but he never joined him for it like a goddamn boomer.
“Ye, see. So, it was doomed from the start anyway!” He hoped it was the end of it. Sure, he might have thought about some cuddles here and there too, since that was what they were supposed to do anyway, but the main plan was not to be alone while hating on all the hearts and roses and happy couples showed everywhere.
“It would seem so,” Alastor finally let him off the hook and opened his book again, the static diminishing slightly. “You can still drink wine though.”
“I plan to,” the human mumbled more to himself than to his companion and was just glad he didn’t need to go to work on that wretched day, or Alastor would find him in hell the very evening.
***
2020, February 14th
He’d be lying if he didn’t have at least the smallest hope of Alastor appearing out of thin air with one of the soft smiles he could do and with his Cajun accent telling him he changed his mind and wouldn’t leave him alone on such awful, overrated cash-grabbing day like this. It was probably 1 % chance of it happening, but he still felt a little disappointed when the clock showed a bit before midnight and Alastor didn’t show up at all, not even saying hi over the radio or sending Junior to give him few comforting nuzzles (Anthony was suspecting him he kept his shadow on short leash since the tequila incident and it was kind of sad).
He was switching between channels with a small frown two wine bottles later, but at least he managed to survive this shitty day without burying his face in PCP. He’d have to leave the house for it and the image of seeing happy hand holding couples on his way would kill the urge anyway.
Once Titanic started to play, Anthony decided it was enough suffering for one day and turned the TV off with a groan. Maybe Alastor knew exactly what kind of boredom the TV was, if not playing shitty movies, then filling majority of its broadcast with ads, and that’s why he avoided it.
He dragged his body to the bathroom and then to the bedroom to cuddle his body pillow instead of Alastor (not the same, but at least he didn’t wake up in the middle of the night anymore feeling cold and alone), and stopped dead in the tracks, staring at his bed.
There was a rose on his pillow – a red, beautiful rose just lying there like it was no biggie, and Anthony was afraid to blink in fear it would disappear. He padded closer, staring at the flower, and then turned quickly, searching the shadows for any sign of Junior hanging around, ready to pounce. He found nothing, the flat was silent and dark, and the rose was still on the pillow when he turned back.
“Al, you fuckin’ softie,” he chuckled to himself, picking the rose with a smile playing on his lips, just to hiss immediately after when a thorn bit into his thumb, drawing blood. Of course the demon would leave all the thorns intact, if not even adding more, just to show him he’s not as soft as Anthony would think.
“Classic Alastor,” he shook his head and brought the rose to his lips. “Thank you.”
He missed the shadow slithering out of the room and disappearing in the radio softly buzzing in the kitchen.
***
2020, July 25th
“Jazz club?”
“I’m in a mood for some good live music,” Alastor opened another wardrobe in the bedroom and raked through the clothes on hangers, mostly scoffing in distaste. It was Saturday evening and the night was warm and lively, inviting them out. “Do you actually own anything presentable or is it all just random bright coloured horrors?”
“Excuse me,” Anthony pushed him to the side from the wardrobe opening and dived in himself, pulling out a pastel blue shirt with stitched flowers on its lapels. “I only have the nicest-,”
“Denied,” Alastor snatched it from his hand and threw it on the bed. “Try again.”
Anthony huffed but grabbed another of his favourite pieces, an old-pink V neck he couldn’t even properly present before Alastor was taking it out of his hold and throwing it on the bed too.
“Yer such a prude sometimes, holy shit,” he rolled his eyes. “What the fuck ya want me to wear then?”
“Something dashing, of course,” the demon eyed the closet one more time and then closed it with a scoff. “And something red too.”
So we match was left unsaid.
“Maybe you should try pink instead,” Anthony smirked but honestly it was better if Alastor never attempted that one. Red and black were his colours like an ingrained order of the world, any deviation from it would probably make it collapse.
He wasn’t surprised Alastor didn’t react. Instead the demon left the bedroom and Anthony followed him while thinking.
“I can wear a dress,” Anthony offered after a moment. “Like. Those nice jazzy cocktail dresses and feathers in hair in a pearl headdress. And do nice make up.”
“A dress?” Alastor repeated. “Do you own any?”
“Yeah, plenty,” the human shrugged. “Often from work, though it was other bar I worked in before. Most of the guys were in a drag, they taught me how to do my own make up and how to style the hair. Really enjoyed that place, too bad they closed it down once the owner shot himself cuz of his debts.”
“Unfortunate,” Alastor commented with a nod. “Though I do recall you were saying the bar you work in now have the costume events too. Are dresses part of it as well?”
“Anything goes,” Anthony shrugged. “Dresses, skimpy body suits, fishnets, business wear. It’s usually themed with the drinks and the food.” He didn’t miss Alastor’s eye roll when he mentioned the skimpy body suits, but at least Al didn’t comment on it.
“I suppose guests enjoy that kind of show,” Alastor said matter-of-factly and Anthony decided not to elaborate. Going to work no longer made him feel at ease, it was mostly automatic. He just shut down all of the negativity, did the work, slapped grabby hands and went home. It more or less kept him out of trouble so far.
“So? Want me to doll up?” he leered at the demon between the doors. “I even have a red dress that might be just what you’d like.”
Alastor looked curious, that was a good sign. It had been few years since Anthony dressed up like this, but it could be a nice change of pace and a treat for his favourite demon who might not have about any interest in intimacy but could get very appreciative when he saw something he liked.
“Please,” the static dropped from Alastor’s voice. “Surprise me, cher.”
Anthony beamed and disappeared in the bedroom.
***
“Grandma,” Anthony walked into the living room in high heels, a fluffy coat covering his body all the way to his knees. He immediately drew Alastor’s attention and saw his eyebrows shooting up. Before he could open his mouth and ask probably why the hell was Anthony wearing a winter coat in the middle of summer, the human dramatically threw the coat down, so it pooled around his feet and struck a pose. “It’s me! Anastasia!”
Cue for the laugh, though Alastor just remained staring without a single word and Anthony cackled and kicked the coat away back into the bedroom without bothering to put it on a hanger.
“Forgot ya don’t watch TV, joke’s lost on ya,” he commented dryly and walked closer, the heels clicking against the wooden floor rhythmically. Alastor still stared but reached out towards him, so Anthony put a hand into his and their fingers intertwined.
“Ya like?” he cocked his head to the side and Alastor actually beamed at him, his eyes raking appreciatively over the setup the human presented – deep red flapper dress with long, pearl necklace tied on his chest into a knot, with fishnets and open black heels, and long black gloves reaching just above his elbow. The red and black eyeshadow with perfect eyeliner took some time, but Anthony was proud of the result and judging from Alastor’s pleased expression it was worth the wait. He styled his hair into 20’s fashion (thanks google) and the only thing he was missing was the headdress and the feather, but he imagined it wouldn’t be a problem for Alastor if he asked for it.
“Vous êtes absolument époustouflant,” the fluent French came out and even though Anthony had no idea what it meant, he believed it was a compliment. At least the tone sounded like it was.
“Hehe,” he let Alastor to twirl him around and when he finally faced the demon again, he realized he was not in the pinstriped suit anymore, but instead of the coat there was an elegant black vest and the red shirt under had different pattern as well, all accompanied by a thin black tie.
“Damn, that’s pretty sweet, Al,” he gently patted the tie and Alastor offered his arm with a smile.
“I believe we’re ready now, cher,” the demon gestured towards the main door and Anthony locked their elbows together and let Alastor lead them out. He felt his palms sweating in the gloves, the last time he felt so nervous was maybe on his first real date, but he was so not telling that out loud.
***
Birdland jazz club was the first thing that Anthony thought of and Alastor seemed satisfied when they entered the building and found a place to sit. Going out with Alastor wasn’t as frequent as it could be, but Anthony didn’t mind it either way. The first time they ventured outside of the walls of Anthony’s flat was around March and it left Anthony wondering why nobody actually turned around when seeing Alastor from the get go – the suit, the hair, the red glowing eyes – not really a normal sight in New York, that for sure.
2020, March 24th
“They don’t see me like you do,” Alastor told him when they sat in a coffee shop and ordered. The waiter didn’t even bat an eyelash at the demon, and it left Anthony’s mind reeling. “They just see a normal person, not even that interesting.”
“As in completely different person?” Anthony inquired and Alastor gently touched his forehead before taking his hand back again. In that moment instead of the red-eyed demon there was a man in his thirties, if not younger, with wild brown hair, rather short and tousled, hazel eyes hidden under round glasses, in a white shirt and a vest, looking completely human and normal and honestly kind of cute?
“Oooh,” Anthony couldn’t help it, “what a cute guy, damn. Ya can change to whoever ya want?”
“Not really,” the human had Alastor’s radio voice, how bizarre. “This face… it’s not whoever, it’s just me.”
Anthony blinked, taking in the face and the eyes and the small smile, and oh, yeah, there was a resemblance now when he focused more, but that would mean…
“Wait. Ye were a human before becoming a demon?” he gaped in shock and one eyebrow shot up on the pretty human-Alastor face.
“How is that surprising? We even talked about my mother,” he shook his very human head. Damn, it was so strange, yet adorable. “Of course, I was a human. Then I died. Ended up in Hell.”
“I don’t know!” Anthony groaned. “I know we talked about it but I just… I mean ya seem like an important and strong kind of demon? Like Lucifer-kind of demon? Surely there are demons born in hell and not just sinners becoming ones?”
“Yes, hellborn demons are a thing,” Alastor nodded and then stopped talking when the waitress approached with their orders, placing a steaming cup of black coffee in front of Alastor and Frappuccino in front of Anthony. The demon eyed Anthony’s drink with distaste but didn’t comment on it. “It is amusing to topple them over, while being just a sinner.”
“But then… you don’t really hold your appearance when you get down there? Or did you choose it?” Anthony tilted his head to the side, not getting enough of this stranger in front of him. Familiar, yet not at all.
“You do not have a say in it,” Alastor answered simply. “The appearance the sinner take in Hell depends on his life or the way he died. There are variety of things in play.”
Anthony nodded thoughtfully while sipping his drink and then grinned around his straw.
“What,” Alastor narrowed his eyes at him and Anthony let the straw go with an audible pop.
“Well, didja fuck a deer~?”
2020, July 25th
Alastor ordered whiskey and Malibu Sunset for Anthony without even needing to ask his companion and the waiter eyed them both with a pleasant smile before leaving. The club was almost full, and the live band just started to perform, which made the ambience quite enjoyable. Anthony didn’t mind jazz, though he was not a die-hard fan of it either. He knew about the clubs but never actually came to chill in one like this before. It was… pretty nice, especially with the company. Alastor was holding his hand on the table, a gentle touch Anthony relished in, and for some reason here, sitting like this, he felt like his equal. Like not only as a pet project and a future pawn, but a partner.
“It is peculiar,” Alastor suddenly spoke, his eyes meeting Anthony’s again. “For how much the world changed, jazz clubs are still feeling almost the same to me.”
“Compared to which year?” Anthony asked, holding his gaze and felt a thumb gently caressing the back of his hand.
“1930,” Alastor smiled with surprising gentleness. “What a year.”
1930. He didn’t know when exactly Alastor died, but if in 1930 he was enjoying jazz clubs, he must have been an adult already. It made him 80 years old past his death at least.
“30’s baby,” Anthony chuckled. “No wonder you don’t fancy TV. It was probably just coming out?”
“Yes, the biggest wave came after I died, thankfully,” a clear distaste in Alastor’s voice was hilarious. “Would prefer radio anyway. It was my job after all.”
“A radio host?” Anthony guessed as much, and the demon hummed while sipping his whiskey. It fitted him, that sort of occupation. “Well, I dunno what ya did in your life to end up in hell,” he leaned against his palm, smiling at Alastor softly, “but yer biggest sin is not talkin’ in that accent of yers. And I mean it. It’s so hot.”
“Correct speech was a must for a radio,” Alastor said primly, but he looked very relaxed talking about it. “Talkin’ like dis would make me a garbage host.”
“I could listen to ya for hours tho,” Anthony grinned and Alastor glanced back to the live band with a small smile, still holding Anthony’s hand.
The night passed fast with great music and maybe a little more alcohol then they planned on drinking, but they could still walk on their own legs when leaving. When drunk, Alastor dropped the correct speech entirely and was extremely touchy feely, which reduced Anthony into a giggling mess.
“You’re a lovely companion, cher,” he was crooning at Anthony when they were walking home through the New York streets, arm sneaked around Anthony’s waist. “Da deal we made was da best thing dat happened to me in a long time.”
“Oh, man, Al,” Anthony couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Ya know how to flatter a guy, huh.”
“Truth is da sincerest form of flattery!” Alastor spun the human around, twirling him on the pavement like a ballerina, then stilling him again with both hands holding his waist. “And I mean every word.”
“Ha, are ya this happy because of the dress?” he batted his eyelashes at the demon and Alastor’s hands slid lower to Anthony’s hips before returning to his waist, an appreciative touch that made Anthony’s breath hitch.
“It suits you,” Alastor concluded, standing close and personal. “Da whole look suits you so well. But even in your pink distasteful pieces of cloth you call fashion, you still look da best.”
“O-ooh, boy,” Anthony felt his heartbeat speed up. If he’d only slightly dipped his head, he could be kissing the man in front of him. Maybe normally he even would if his partner wasn’t a demonic deer with intimacy aversion. But he didn’t want to fuck this up. Holy shit, he would really go and kill himself if he fucked it up now of all times by not holding his horses and forcing himself on an obvious asexual only enjoying the company, while having too many drinks to keep his defences up.
“T-thanks, Al,” he gulped down the cringy nicknames he would use on anybody else after a date night. “Yer the best company I could’ve hoped for too.”
He was adamantly sure it wasn’t him who brought them together, that it was Alastor’s hand grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him lower and then pressing their lips together in a quick kiss, and Alastor’s body pushing against his, and also Alastor who stepped away again with half lidded eyes and a sly smile, saying: “Remember, you’re mine forever.”
Anthony was never, ever going to forget that.
***
2020, July 26th
It was the rhythmical beat of rain against the windowsill that woke Anthony up. The weather let up a little and allowed a little colder wind to blow through the windows and it felt so pleasant Anthony just buried his face back into the warmth and breathed out in contentment. It took him a moment before he realized the warmth was Alastor’s chest and that there were Alastor’s arms holding him firmly in place and their legs were intertwined and even though it was nothing new, he suddenly felt his heart speeding up almost in panic and he blinked in confusion on why the hell would he freak out now after more than half a year of sleeping with the demon like this.
It hit him just a little while later – because Alastor kissed him yesterday. On his own. While drunk.
Nothing happened afterwards, they just stumbled back home and Alastor was clingy and by some miracle Anthony managed to get rid of the make up and change into an oversized t-shirt before collapsing to bed with the demon draped around his torso, mumbling sweet nothings like a suave Casanova with zero experience and then they both fell asleep.
He knew Alastor had his clingy moments, usually when really, really tired, so it made sense his drunk self would be probably another extension of that behaviour. But the kiss was still unexpected, and Anthony was terrified of the consequences. He could see Alastor freaking out over it when sober, he could imagine him being distant and cold to deal with the situation, to keep Anthony on arm’s length again, and it was making him sad. He could maybe hope Alastor would draw blanks after the night, but he didn’t drink himself to stupor, so the chances of that were quite low.
He looked up to the sleeping face of his companion, relaxed and content, and just thought fuck, why is he so lovable sometimes? Why couldn’t he be more demonic, more heartless, or crueller for Anthony to keep at least his metaphorical heart to himself? Why was watching him sleep pulled so many strings in him? Why his presence was so dear and needed? Why falling in love always happened with the worst kind of person?
“Are you tryin’ to curse me, cher?”
Anthony whined and buried his face back into Alastor’s chest. Of course the fucker was awake, witnessing Anthony’s existential crisis.
“I’d recommend voodoo for dat,” the demon had no mercy. “It’s lot less messy.”
“I’m bad ad sewin’,” Anthony mumbled into the red shirt and the laugh Alastor let out rumbled in his chest like thunderstorm. His clawed hand raked through Anthony’s hair with gentleness and it was too much for his poor, weak heart.
“This is gonna sound morbid, but…” he started quietly, “I can’t wait to be dead. So I can be with ya down there.”
The hand stilled for a fraction of second before resuming its pace.
“Dis is gonna be morbid as well, but I can’t wait for you to be ded too, to be with me down dere,” Alastor’s other hand moved to rest on the small of Anthony’s back, the warmth seeping into his body like poison. “To belon’ to me and do my biddin’ any time I’d want you to.”
“Fuck, that’s kinda hot?” Anthony groaned. “Imagine talking like this in front of people though. Can’t wait for you to die already, babe! Like shit, is he a murderer? Is he gonna slice his throat in bed?”
“Romance done right.”
“Till death do us apart… for a moment, until we’re pass that phase,” Anthony couldn’t help but chuckle. Honestly, he never thought about dying as much prior meeting Alastor, like he knew it was going to happen eventually – sooner or later, it depended a lot on drugs and work and attitude – but there were no deep feelings about his life ending. Not even that much fear. But now? It was like a gateway he couldn’t wait to pass, and it was a little fucked up.
“Lookin’ forward to it,” Alastor sighed and yeah, he didn’t help, really. “Comin’ here so often is quite taxin’. I adore bein’ with you, but it would be even better when we’re both in Hell, havin’ you on my lap-,”
“On your lap?!” Anthony whipped his head up, grinning. “So yer a kinky bastard after all!”
“Nothin’ kinky about wantin’ to keep you close,” the demon was so confident all of sudden, sheesh. Was he still a little drunk? He never talked about things like these – hell, he never actually expressed his feelings toward Anthony so openly, unless it was his shadow who, instead of words, was showing him by nuzzles. Sure, it was apparent he liked Anthony at least a little, but now it scaled up so much Anthony was scared it was just a dream and he was going to wake up soon.
“On yer lap, with your dick out, huh?” Stumbled out of Anthony’s mouth, out of habit, honestly, and he immediately regretted it. Alastor, as expected, scoffed at it.
“Darlin’, we’ve talked ‘bout dis.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Anthony rested his chin on the back of his hands. It was somewhere in April, if he remembered correctly, when Alastor informed him sex was probably as interesting to him as stepping into muddy puddle and then having to clean his shoes. Anthony took it as it were – it was in their deal anyway about the intimacy and sexual stuff, so it didn’t come as much as a surprise to hear Alastor was purely asexual character. It was still fun to rile him up sometimes though. “Just want ya to know ya can do anythin’ yer want to me. Even here.”
“You’re always so sincere, cher,” Alastor’s hand previously in Anthony’s hair slid down to his cheek, gently caressing it.
“Life sucks anyway,” Anthony leaned into the touch. “Every time yer not here, it’s like it loses colours. Like yer my impulse control and when I can’t be with ya, I do stupid shit. Like drugs.”
“Lately?”
“On occasion. When alone for too long,” Anthony admitted not too proudly. It was difficult to let it go completely, no matter how Alastor filled the void. Once he was gone, the void returned. “Makes me feel better. When yer here, it’s like I’m addicted to ya and need to fill that void with somethin’ when ya leave.”
“Can’t be helped,” the demon’s thumb slid down to Anthony’s lips, the claw gently pressing down and easing up. Anthony felt an urge to lick it, but Alastor would probably smack him if he did.
“Shouldn’t ya be discouraging me?” he teased a little and Alastor raised an eyebrow.
“Do I look like an angel to you?” he asked with a tilt in his voice and Anthony shrugged.
“Yer trying to fix me.”
“To feel more confident, not a saint,” Alastor opposed and Anthony hissed when the claw cut the tender skin on his lower lip, a drop of blood appearing.
“…fair,” he hummed, watching Alastor stare at the redness with half-lidded eyes before he suddenly pulled Anthony close and licked the droplet away, making him shudder.
“I can’t let you be too much of a good boy,” the demon whispered to his lips. “Or we’d have a problem with upstairs.”
“And we don’t want that,” Anthony added breathlessly, and his partner smirked.
“We really don’t, darlin’.”
***
2020, October 9th
It was a rare moment – rarer than seeing a rainbow after rain, but it was there. Alastor allowing Anthony to touch his hair and ears, while sitting on a couch in the living room, reading a book he brought along from hell. They were in the middle of preparing dinner but there was at least 30 minutes of downtime and Alastor thought it was the best time to study some of his hell shit, like Anthony wasn’t there, ready for a cuddle.
Unfair.
So he stood behind the couch, right above Alastor’s head and risked a gentle scrape of fingers through the red and black locks. Alastor didn’t react, which normally meant a green light for whatever Anthony was up to, so he buried his hand in his hair and while the demon made a humming noise in the back of his throat, he didn’t stop him. So he played around, twirling the strands, pulling them back, braiding some, poking the ears till they flicked, until he started pulling the hair back from Alastor’s face and from the sides into a neat ponytail he secured with a hairband he had on his wrist from his own hair care just an hour ago and left it there.
Alastor… with a ponytail. Huh.
He circled the sofa and stopped in the front, taking the sight of the new style in, and yeah, okay, that shouldn’t really make him this horny, but it did.
“Am I gonna regret lettin’ you play with my hair, darlin’?” Alastor glanced at him from the book and Anthony buried his face in his hands.
“No, but now I regret ya let me because I made ya even fuckin’ hotter,” he whined.
Alastor delivered an overkill when he rolled his sleeves up once they got back to cooking and left the ponytail be. Anthony was pretty sure he was only preparing him for the suffering in hell in his own way.
***
2020, November 11th
The first time he had thought of taking off Alastor’s gloves were on Wednesday evening while resting his head on the demon’s legs, playing with the hem of them. He had never seen Alastor taking them off – ever. Honestly he never saw him take off about anything except of his shoes and his coat, but even when he rolled up his sleeves, he left the gloves on and Anthony thought he maybe just had a thing about touching stuff with his bare hands - some people did. He knew there were scars on Alastor’s forearms and his chest, he had seen them when he unbuttoned his shirt a little, so maybe his hands were the same and he didn’t like showing them. Alastor didn’t strike him as somebody who cared as much about other people’s opinion, but he knew appearances might be deceptive. With Alastor’s obvious control kink the image he presented himself with probably played its role.
He was dragging his nails over the fabric of the burgundy gloves with thoughtful hum and when Alastor didn’t protest in any way, he slid two fingers under the hem, touching the bare palm of the demon’s hand. Still no reaction that would mean Alastor hated it, which encouraged him to continue.
The tip of his tongue peaked out in concentration as he tried to fit more in, at which Alastor finally cleared his throat above him.
“Darlin’,” he crooned. “What’re you doin’?”
“Havin’ sex with yer hands, duh.” He wiggled his fingers a little and Alastor sighed while grabbing the offensive hand and stopped the ministrations. “Aww.”
“Leave my hands outta your crudeness,” the demon flicked his forehead instead and then rested his hand back on Anthony’s chest where it was before. It only took about ten seconds before Anthony was on it again and at that point Alastor just grabbed his wrist and held it up.
“Nooo,” the human tried to wriggle out of the hold, but the grip was inhumanly strong. “Spoilsport. It’s not like I’d do somethin’ dirty to it… maybe.”
“Whateva you say, darlin’,” Alastor didn’t budge, obviously. But at least it made Anthony think of something else when it came to Alastor’s elusive hands.
“Let’s make a deal then,” he proposed, grinning at his partner’s confused expression. “You lemme take off yer gloves. And I won’t do anything bad to yer hands.”
“Dat sounds like a rubbish deal,” Alastor shook his head. “No dice.”
“Then… what do ya want in exchange?” he batted his eyelashes seductively, which had about zero, if not minus, effect on the demon. “Imma game for anythin’.”
There was a gleam in Alastor’s eyes as if he thought of something wicked and manipulative, and then his smile widened. Anthony thought of anything – eternal enslavement, monthly donation of human souls, not talking for a week-
“I want t’ see you in a suit.”
“Say what now?”
“I’ll let you take my gloves off, but I get to see you in a suit,” came a term and Alastor was positively beaming now, which was weird, because… a suit? Was that even a proper condition? He could have just asked; it wasn’t like Anthony had an aversion to wear fully buttoned up clothing or something. Sure, he didn’t love it, but to make a deal out of it?
“I mean… sure?” The grip on his wrist disappeared and Anthony sat up, still confused. When a hand appeared with familiar green shine, he checked once more for Alastor’s happy expression and then took it, feeling the tingle running down his spine.
“Pleasure doin’ business with you, darlin’,” Alastor gently grabbed Anthony’s chin to raise up his head a little. “Now dress up. I’ll be waitin’.”
“Yer a public menace,” the human barked out a laugh but got up anyway. He was pretty sure he still had a suit from the cabaret night and could only hope it would still fit.
It fit. He liked the suit because despite wearing it just once, it fitted him like a glove and even though he wasn’t exactly a fan of black and white setup, it had its charm once in a while. The well-tailored vest and close-fitting pants still made a nice figure and Anthony vaguely remembered the cabaret night granted him quite a bit of extra money, just because of how the pants hugged his ass (and because of his pretty face too, he was confidently sure. He didn’t even need to suck anybody’s dick that night).
He checked himself in a mirror for the last time, trying to find any imperfection he could somehow remedy, until he was completely satisfied and returned to the living room with surprisingly nervous expectations.
“No Anastasia today?” Alastor greeted him with a small smile standing near the couch, and Anthony fidgeted, not really feeling that confident in the clothes as he ironically was in the dress before.
“Wouldn’t wanna make the same joke twice, ya know,” he rubbed the back of his neck and took two more steps closer to where Alastor was standing. “Well. Here I am. In a plain boring suit just for yer viewing pleasure.”
“Pleasure indeed,” the demon looked delighted, which still baffled him, but maybe he had a thing for suits in his asexual spectrum, why not. Then he offered his hand for Anthony to take, palm up, and he realized the gloves were already off. Alastor’s hands were black as night with long, red claws gradually darkening until the blackness swallowed the colour. The obsidian shade was stopping in tendrils around his wrists like the shadows were swallowing his hands in a provocative manner and Anthony had an urge to rub his face all over it.
He must have stared for too long because the hand started pulling away and Anthony panicked with low nonono and grabbed it like a frightened animal.
“Ya can’t just flash it and then walk away with it, sheesh,” he grumbled, holding the hand in both of his and it was smooth and somehow warm, and feeling like a human hand, sort of, but at the same time not really? He couldn’t tell for sure. He wondered how it would taste if he licked it.
“You looked put off, didn’t wanna flaunt it ‘round,” Alastor’s voice cracked his concentration and it made him look up to the demon’s face in surprise. The smile he had was tight – was he self-conscious about it? In all its strangeness his hands were like some famous artist’s masterpiece, nothing to be conscious about.
“Well, ya should flaunt it around,” he said firmly. “Damn, it’s like. Really cool and kinda creepy, I like it.”
The hand visibly relaxed, the claws opened, and Anthony couldn’t stop himself anymore, he just rubbed his cheek against it like an affectionate cat and heard Alastor’s breath hitch in his throat.
Score.
“That feels so niiiice,” he purred happily. “And for just one lousy in-suit evening, ya should feel cheated.”
“Quite the opposite, darlin’,” another clawed hand joined the first one and then Alastor was holding his face on both sides, gently rubbing his cheeks, and Anthony was pretty sure he had the most dorky expression on his face right now but didn’t care. “You look dashin’.”
“Mmmhm,” Anthony grinned, and his hands covered the clawed ones and squeezed. “How ‘bout you walk back a bit.”
“Walk back?” the demon tilted his head, but did as he was told, just to lose his balance immediately after two steps when his knees hit the edge of the couch (Anthony pushed him slightly so he would fall right into sitting position, because he was a little shit and had a plan). Before Alastor could say anything else (though he didn’t look like he wanted to), Anthony sat on top of him, knees next to his thighs and took one of the blackened hand and gave the pointing finger an experimental lick.
Alastor immediately bristled like Anthony just flashed him, the static buzzing to life and off the roof, and shit, it should have scared him, but it did not. He stopped though, watching the demon with seductive smile and Alastor gradually breathed in and out and the static stopped again.
“Scary,” Anthony winked at him, still holding the hand in his, and Alastor shook his head and flexed his claws.
“You try your luck too often,” he just said in a low, warning voice.
“I know,” the human positioned the clawed hand on his chest, right where his heart was beating, vulnerable and open, and smiled. “I’m goin’ to be good from now on. Promise.”
“Moderately,” Alastor added.
“Ya know it.”
Their hands intertwined and Anthony was pretty sure during this night the defences Alastor had lowered for him once more.
***
2021, February 9th
When it came to birthdays, Anthony normally ignored them. Since almost no one knew the date, he was mostly safe to spend the day as any other, so it actually came as a surprise when Anthony brought home bouquet of roses from work (ironically from the patrons and not from co-workers, go and figure) for his birthday and put it in a vase on the table in the living room. It was rather nice of them, sure, though it only fuelled the disdain from his co-workers further. He more or less forgot about it up until Alastor showed up in the evening and noticed the newest addition.
“I thought the Lover’s day is on 14th,” Alastor watched the bouquet as if it would explode any moment, his eyes narrowed.
“Huh? Oh yeah,” Anthony peeked in from the kitchen. “Valentine’s Day is on 14th. This is cuz of my birthday.”
“Your birthday is today?” the demon left the bouquet alone and joined Anthony in the kitchen, his tone surprised. “You did not say anything.”
“Well, cuz it’s not really important,” Anthony shrugged while slicing meat. Even though he normally ignored this day, he kind of wanted to make something special for Alastor, if anything else. As a treat for himself. “Nothing worth to celebrate.”
“What a strange thing to say,” Alastor leaned with his back against the counter right next to Anthony, his expression curious. “Mortals normally enjoy celebrating their birthday. Mainly because of gifts, at least?”
“Well, I’m a special case.”
“Not enjoying gifts?” That was a stupid question. Of course Anthony enjoyed gifts as long as they were not mean or overly sexual, but along with his miserable life his birthday mostly left a bitter taste in his mouth every year.
“As much as any other John, obviously,” he glanced at Alastor with a smirk. “It’s just… not my thing. To celebrate the day I was born.”
“I see,” Alastor nodded thoughtfully. “Would it be an overstep if I said I would like to celebrate it with you?”
“You would?” Anthony stopped with the meat preparations and turned to face the demon, a weird flicker of happiness igniting in him.
“Celebrating the day you were born seems very fitting,” Alastor’s smile widened. “Otherwise we would never meet. And I treasure the moment when we did.”
“Aww,” Anthony cooed, and it was nice, to be told by the person you were crushing on.
“Though I must admit,” Alastor tilted his head to the side. “I am not entirely sure what is the norm in this century.”
“We can bake a cake?” Anthony offered. He was pretty sure he had all the ingrediencies stocked. “I guess people usually do that. Then they wish happy b-day and lots of health and good fortune or… I don’t know, I don’t usually do this shtick. They smooch maybe too. Or shake hands. Same thing for some people.”
“Oh,” Alastor looked thoughtful. “That sounds amendable.”
“Yeah, we can try-mmph?!” Out of anything that could possibly happen to him on his wretched birthday, Alastor pushing him against the counter and kissing him was definitely not one of them. Sure, they did kiss sometimes, though it was usually chaste and almost innocent?
Well, this was extremely far from innocent. This involved tongue. This was some other Alastor possessing the demon’s body, ravishing his mouth in the kitchen on his birthday while his hands cupped Anthony’s face and his thumbs were gently caressing his cheekbones, and what the hell, the gloves were off too, it made Anthony melt. Alastor was nipping on his lower lip and then diving back in, and Anthony felt his body shiver and his hands gripped the pinstriped coat in fear Alastor would stop or something, and when the demon let go of him with a last obscene lick, he realized he was basically on verge of suffocating already without his brain notifying him. He gasped for air with a shudder and Alastor joined their foreheads together, his smile small and private.
“Happy birthday, darlin’,” he purred. “Thank you for bein’ born.”
Anthony made an inhumane voice in the back of his throat and clung to his demon as if his life depended on it.
Maybe his birthday was not so bad after all.
(Later he found the bouquet in the trash and a new and much bigger one on the table instead. Alastor acted like he had no idea what happened.)
***
2024, October 1st
When Anthony thought about dying at any point of his life, it just meant the end. He didn’t know how he was going to die, but that usually changed each year. As a teenager, he wanted to commit suicide several times a year, mainly from age 15 to 17. He wasn’t sure what exactly stopped him each time, but somehow, he pulled through. In his mid-twenties it was a risk from the outer sources – too tight squeezes of hands around his neck when having sex, too many drugs in his system, too much alcohol. Once even a stab wound from his crazy ex. Granted, Anthony almost killed him back on the spot – though later he found out the fucker died in the hospital. So technically it wasn’t exactly murder? It should have been though.
Anyway. When he hit 30, he felt like his mind was on verge of breaking and any kind of distraction was strong enough to keep him occupied. He thought about death from time to time, but always stopped his hand reaching for a knife in the kitchen, thinking maybe, just maybe there is more to life than stubbornly surviving days, weeks, months of his miserable life for no reason.
At age 31 he summoned a demon and for four years his life turned to be enjoyable three times a week, and sometimes even five. He gave his heart and soul to hell for company, and fell in love with a force of nature, a whirlwind of emotions, a lovely devil. He never, ever regretted a single day spent with Alastor, a single hour, a minute, a second. Despite their occasional quarrels, their differences, and their triggers, they enjoyed each other’s company. They learned through their mistakes and they made each other stronger through the weaknesses, and while all that was slowly fading away in staccato of painful spasms and tears, Anthony still felt fondness and maybe even a twinge of happiness of his cage finally breaking free, even though it hurt like a bitch and he felt sick and alone.
It wasn’t like he wanted to die. He didn’t think 35 was some kind of milestone of life and death, a crossroad not meant to be crossed.
But he was tired. He was lonely. He wanted and craved and yearned for more of something that was out of his reach, no matter how much he tried to grab it, to pull it close.
You are still alive, mon chéri, and it is yours and only yours to live. I do not want you to regret it, no matter how much I want you with me. I might have forfeited my life, but your heart still beats. Do not waste it.
Anthony thought Alastor was being cold that day. He thought they were just words said to placate him somehow, a lie spilled to keep him here. If he wanted, if he craved like Anthony did, would he say please live to him? Right after spilling his heart? Even though they both wanted to be together? Even when they both morbidly dreamed about Anthony’s eventual death?
Now, thinking back to it… he saw what he meant. Now, when everything was turning cold and distant and dark, he realized dying at 35 is young and stupid and wasteful.
Yet he didn’t regret it. He was never going to regret selling his soul to a devil and leaving a place that only brought him pain in a ditch.
The only thing he regretted was dying alone in a dirty bathroom, but… it wasn’t like he could choose anyway.
“There, there, darlin’.”
There were warm hands holding his face. Everything felt raw and searing, like falling through liquid fire.
“Breathe.”
He tried to, but only hacked out blood. He shook his head, curling into himself. The hands gently petted his hair.
“Now, now, my heart,” the voice cooed. “My everything. You are safe now. You belong to me.”
He felt a pain in his chest, like his heart was torn out and left a gaping chasm behind. It was like tasting despair and ash on tip of his tongue.
“Nobody will ever hurt you again, cher,” a gentle reminder, a curtain hiding the missing organ in his body, a beautiful lie. “Nobody, ever again.”
He submitted to it and the pain disappeared.
***
2024, 359th day
“I can’t believe that! Ya almost ate my pig!”
“I thought it lost its way here and it is time for dinner, it was only appropriate.”
“How dare ya! Ya monster!”
“Can you two keep it down?!” A screech came from the stairs and halted the crossfire like a switch before the owner of the voice even entered their field of vision, a fair hair flowing around a pretty face, a fierce glare seizing them. “Bloody old-married couple, do it somewhere else!”
“What she said,” a grumble agreed from the bar, and a tall, four-armed spider demon picked a small pig from the floor and cuddled it to his fluffy chest, cooing at it gently.
“Well, sorry for trying to save my little baby from this guy,” he glared at his enemy from under long, white fringe. “He’d eat him. Eat Fat Nuggets!”
“Oh dear, you already named it?” the red-eyed demon twirled his microphone in his hand, his smile widening. “You should have told me. Would adjust the name on the menu.”
“Keep talkin’, big boy, I have enough venom to make you spend your day in agony,” the spider hissed and the pig in his arms snorted happily, apparently finding all the commotion amusing. “And not the good kind.”
“I am looking forward to it, darlin’,” Alastor crooned and Vaggie made a retching noise when she finally reached the bar. Husker didn’t need her to ask for a drink, he was already pouring her one – and one for himself. It wasn’t like she condoned the bar in the hotel, but sometimes it was a much-needed way of coping, especially when it came to these two.
“Can you leave already?” she turned back towards them once she gulped the alcohol down, grimacing at the burn crawling down her throat. “Angel was talking about this for a week and now you stand here for whatever reason for half an hour, you should’ve been gone by now!”
“I wasn’t talkin’ about it for a week,” Angel shot back while pursing his lips. “Just few days, maybe.”
“A week?” Alastor crossed his arms on his chest. “Lucky. I was hearing about it since he got here.”
“Well excuse me for being sentimental,” Angel stuck his tongue at him and walked towards the bar, handing Fat Nuggets to Husker, who eyed the pig warily.
“I ain’t looking after that fucking thing.”
“Pleaaase.”
A groan, but the cat demon took it, rolling his eyes. “Last time though.”
“Sure thing, hot stuff,” Angel winked and left the bar in easy stride, joining Alastor in the middle of the hall. “Shall we?”
“Only waitin’ for you, cher,” Alastor offered his arm and Angel locked their elbows together. “You sure you don wanna take da pig with you?”
“Why?”
“A late night snack.”
“I’ll fuckin’ smack ya, stop it,” he grumbled at the laugh Alastor didn’t even bother hiding, and let the man lead them out of the hotel.
The red sky above their heads was like an everlasting void pierced by a tall, dark tower in the distance and Angel kind of liked how demons were afraid to come close to it, yet to him the place felt like home. The Radio tower came with big overlord territory and despite it being rather far from the hotel, Angel insisted on walking instead of Alastor using the portals to get them there in seconds. It just felt more date-like rather than abusing the Radio Demon powers and Alastor didn’t argue about that – which was nice because normally he argued about everything for the sport of it.
“I guess it makes sense,” Angel hummed while leaning into Alastor’s warmth on their way through the Pentagram city. “Christmas is ‘bout Jesus being born and shit. No reason to celebrate it here.”
“I was wonderin’ when you’d find out,” Alastor responded matter-of-factly. “Christmas bein’ a big Christian secret.”
“Har har,” the spider demon nudged him. “I’m new, don’t make fun of me. Can’t help I miss it.”
“Of course you miss it,” Alastor freed himself from Angel’s hold, just to sneak his arm around his waist, pulling him closer. “It’s when you met me.”
“Yer so fuckin’ cocky, maybe I just miss the presents,” Angel crossed his upper arms on his chest, but his lower one curled around Alastor’s waist as well.
“I’m da only present you’ll ever need~,” the Radio demon singsonged and Angel barked out a laugh.
“Guess that’s not completely wrong,” he admitted and when he felt a hand on the back of his neck, he met Alastor’s lips halfway in a chaste kiss, both not even stopping on their way to the tower.
“You’re da only one for me too,” Alastor whispered softly. “My dear Anthony.”
Angel couldn’t help but think life is fucking overrated when your boyfriend is owning your heart in all kinds of ways.
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ayyy I’m bout to do tequila shots I hope I don’t fall into the pool lmao
woman why
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here is the thing about alcoholism and alcohol abuse. a lot of it is learned. as a society, we’ve normalized it. college kids and like ayyy i’m such an alcoholic because they rip tequila shots when they go to party. the word got nerfed. this with the fact that alcoholism is genetic and a large component of it is generational trauma; it’s just wow. society normalizes alcoholism and then demonizes alcoholics. i grew up watching my mom drink because she had a lot of sadness and anger and was never taught how to handle it. she watched her father and grandfather drink. it becomes something that people just do: you don’t talk about your, feelings you drink about your feelings. i also grew up watching alcoholism on tv treated as a joke or even sometimes suggested as a solution to your problems. i’m even guilty of making alcoholism jokes. you’re expected to be an alcoholic and then you’re hated when you’re an alcoholic. i am frustrated.
#every time i see the dean alcoholism post i think about this and i get angry#tw alcoholism#tw alcohol abuse#cw alcohol#i’ve grown up watching my family drink itself to death and it just feels like there’s no other option sometimes#i’ve had really tough conversations with family members where they tell me about my mom’s drinking#and then it’s my job to try to get her to cut back and get help#my first thought during these conversations is always ‘i need a drink’#alcoholism is a generational trauma
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@jasmineaxiong
date: april 2nd
time: 7:30 p.m.
location: law firm office building
Mason enjoyed visiting Jasmine at her office. Although she could never imagine herself in any kind of corporate position, she did like to get a glimpse into the world of office rooms and board meetings. It always made her think of American Psycho in one way or another, but that was likely due to Mason’s lack of knowledge on what it was actually like to work in an office and her innate (and frankly, troubling) urge for life to be vaguely like a horror film.
This was only the second time they were doing this. Mason had met Jasmine at the Conifer Lounge over tequila shots and they’d been drinking pals ever since. Mason also happened to find the lawyer smoking hot, which she imagined had a lot to do with what she did for a living. Mason did always had a thing for powerful, older women.
Mason waltzed into the law firm, nodding and waving at some of Jasmine’s colleagues as they passed her on their way to their cars in the emptying parking lot. She took the sleek elevator up a couple floors to where she knew she’d find Jasmine’s office. She was pleased to find the door open for her.
“Ayyy, girl,” she greeted the woman with a wide grin, “Guess who’s got two thumbs and a lethal amount of tequila in her backpack right now?”
“This bitch.”
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SABIDURÍA DE VIEJA…
“Mira, mija, pa´que dejes de andar quejándote, te voy a dar unas cuantas sugerencias pa’ que vivas bien, y no nomás sobrevivas…
1.- Agradece por todo No te quejes, dale gracias a Dios que estás, que sigues, y que vives, nada más piensa que a otra bola de gente ya se la llevó...¡la vida!
2.- Cuando puedas, hacelo Cuando puedas comer... comé, cuando puedas dormir... dormí, cuando puedas disfrutar... disfrutá, cuando puedas trabajar...trabajá, y si aún puedes, echate unos traguitos, juega con los hijos, haz el amor o ponte a silbar, a cantar en la ducha, y dá gracias a Dios porque tienes Salud. No te la pases quejando, ¡¡ayyy si hubieraaaa!, ¡¡ayyy les di!... ¡ayyy si tuviera... ¡cuánto sacrificio!, ¡no mijita, altas y bajas siempre han habido y siempre habrán!
3.- Si en la noche no puedés dormir Si estás vuelta y vuelta en la cama, pues' parate y ponte a hacer algo, arregla un cajón, plancha tu blusa pa mañana, ponete a leer, porque si te quedas acostada con los ojos abiertos... ¡vas a pensar puras huevadas! Y lo peor es que te paras y las haces...
4.- Los problemas grandotes, esos que son del mundo Los que se oyen en la televisión, que si se está calentando el planeta, que si a tal país ya se le llevaron el dineros, que si los narcos... ¿esos mija?, mándalos a la m... ¡¡no los vas a arreglar tu! Luego ni les entiendes, ¡no te hagas bolas! Deja que los que pueden, los arreglen. Pero tu... ocupate de los que se ven más chiquitos, esos que sí están en tus manos. Despabilate, aunque sea a ratos, atiende esos, los demás ¡¡a la p…. madre!!
5.- Si te dan... agarra todo lo que te den. Agarralo, aprovechalo, así sea un beso o una pendejadita, porque uno vive pensando, que las cosas las genera uno, pero no sabes de qué forma te llegan... ¡así que tu agarra y no te acorbades!
6.- ¡No agarres lo que no es tuyo¡ Ni la bicicleta, ni la bolsa, ni el dinero, ni al marido o amante de otra, lo ajeno respétalo, es de otra, cada quien tiene lo suyo, ¡lo que se gana y lo que se merece!
7.- Lo que hagas, hacelo con ganas Con muchas ganas y mucho gusto, y hazlo bien o no lo hagas y dejate de pendejadas, olvidate de las envidias vos... a lo tuyo, porque no sabés cuánto vales...
8.- Cuidate de las cabronas Alejate de las pendejas, fíjate bien como son... porque ¡¡hay malvadas!, conocelas y nunca seas como ellas.. Ayuda y escucha a tus amigas, No hables mal de la gente, ni de las cabronas, ni de las pendejas, Sé orgullosa, pero no seas arrogante ni prepotente. Sé humilde, no agachada. Sé valiente, no imprudente. Cuando ganes, sonríe; cuando pierdas, no armes un escándalo, y si te dá la gana... llora.
9.- Nunca te preocupes por lo que no tienes, por lo que no puedes comprar Cuántas cabronas que tienen todo el dinero del mundo están en la cárcel, enfermas de la cabeza, o guardadas en un hospital, asustadas e inseguras, o tienen un marido pendejo, no son felices, no saben comunicarse, no tienen una familia como la tuya. Tú tienes algo más valioso que es... tu gente y tu salud.
10.- Manda a la mierda la Muerte Que sea ella la que se preocupe por no poderte llevar, y no seas tú la que se preocupe porque ya te va a llevar!
¿Así ?, ¿o más claro? Y, por último, mijita, si la vida te dá limones ... ¡¡ Qué limonada, ni qué mierda!! '' TU PIDE TEQUILA Y SAL''
(Autor Desconocido)
#Porsimelees❤
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Have a Little Fun With Him//Richard
Notes: this is my first fic and I am incredibly nervous about sharing it but why not try?
It’s for @cieloxcnco challenge
P.S. sorry @h-bea92 the nerves took over and I couldn’t wait I hope you like
I used the song Drown the Lover’s by Ritual “I should drown all the lovers that couldn’t love you more, won’t surface to exist, love like we never hurt”- it was such a good prompt.
The backstory of this fic is based on my real first love. Terrible, wonderful, violent, passionate, young. The rest is all my imagination.
Warning: smutty and my first piece so let’s hope this goes well :)
Word count: ~1600
*****************************************************************************************************
It was your first night out in a long time. You had broken up with your first love. A long four year relationship that was completely draining you at the end. Josh’s consistent cheating scandals, violent episodes, and continuous verbal abuse had become so repetitive. You loved him immensely, but you also deeply resented him for the pain and embarrassment his alcoholism had put you through. Your family taking him in wasn’t enough, nor was your undying loyalty. At last you had ended it but now you buried yourself in unrelenting schoolwork kept you wrapped up for weeks, unable to leave your house except for class. Tonight, however, your friends managed to convince you to leave the work and your past behind.
All your friends met at your house to drink before the club, mostly so they could convince you to put on the sexiest outfit you owned.
“THIS IS THE Y/N WE NEEDED ALL THIS TIME!” Your friend Summer screamed. You giggled as you pivoted around to see your back in the full body mirror. A bright red dress that stopped right below your ass. It was the riskiest thing you ever wore, completely naked underneath so there were no underwear or bra lines visible.
“GOD DAMN BITCH.” Your friend Liz shouted as she ran behind you smacking your ass.
“It’s so unlike me, there is literally no occasion for me to be wearing this right now.” You rationalized as you ran your hands down your waist.
“Nope. No. Stop.” Summer said, as the rest of your girlfriends nodded their heads. “You’re wearing it because you deserve to dance and have fun after how hard you work and the asshole you’ve moved on from. Stop worrying. Shut your brain off tonight.”
“Okay. Alright fine.” You grabbed your tequila shot and silently encouraged yourself that you can let loose.
*****************************************************************************************************
The second you stepped into the club you knew it would be a good night. With a decent amount of alcohol already coursing through your veins, your inhibitions had begun to slip away.
The DJ boomed over the microphone, “Mi gente, está noche me traje un regalito. Por favor denle una calida bienvenido a mis amigos CNCO!”
Your head snapped up from your drink as you watched five men in shiny gold jackets stand on stage.
“Oh my fucking god.” You screeched.
“Y/N is that…?” Liz said with her jaw agape.
“Yep.” You were a wild fan of CNCO. You were a fan since they were on La Banda but had met the boys at one of the listening parties they had held for the release of CNCO the album, and it had been a downward spiral into obsession since.
Your screams blended with the crowds as you shook your hips to the beat of “Se Vuelve Loca”. It was unbelievable to you how sexy the boys looked. Richard’s shirt already stuck to his chest, Zabdiel’s shiny black joggers clinging to his thick thighs like a second skin, Joel’s long fingers brushing the stray curls getting stuck to his forehead, Chris’s smirk as he thrusted into the air with the lyrics he sang, and Erick’s eyes were exceptionally blue as he smiled into the crowd.
“Saca la fiera que llevas dentroooo…” Joel sang as his curls bounced above the soaking wet bandana that graced his hairline.
You led Summer, Liz and your other friends away from the table you had and closer to the stage. You promised yourself you’d remain calm and collected in the one in a million chance one of them approached you.
However, the boys descended the stage just as you heard the music to “Estoy Enamorado de Ti” and you began to freak out. You were sweating much more than you would and you lifted your pointer finger and gestured for Richard to come towards you when he glanced in your direction.
“Bitch, I think he’s coming towards you. I told you this dress is killer.” Summer diabolically laughed in your ear.
The Dominican moved through the dance floor, never breaking eye contact with you.
“Hasta el amanecer…” His pink lips singing into the mic as he grabbed your hand and spun you. Your hips flush against his as he sang his next line. “Baby, you and I we’re gonna lose our heads.”
You rolled your hips backwards onto his and he grabbed your waist to control your movements. One hand met his on top of your hip and the other came up to the back of his neck as you swayed to the beat.
Your eyes scanned the room and saw the other boys dancing in some capacity with girls in the club. Richard continued the song from behind you and your core grew wetter every second you felt him grow harder behind you. The lyrics of the band you loved so much were drowned out by your breaths growing louder. And then, it was over. Richard grabbed the same hand that was on top of his and spun you further away from him.
He turned back at you and flashed his big smile that you always crushed on and gave a signature wink before he ran up on stage to finish the set.
*****************************************************************************************************
“WHAT THE FUCK.” Your lips mouthed at Summer and Liz as they stood with their mouths wide open.
CNCO had left the stage but your hips still burned from where Richard had touched you.
“Y/N I… I’m just… that was… oh my god.” Summer managed to stutter. You used your hand to cover the smile that was beginning to grow on your face. Heat rising to your cheeks as your thoughts get dirtier and dirtier.
The lights of the club managed to draw you back to reality as you picked your drink back up and began to dance with your friends again.
You weren’t dancing for long when you saw your friends eyes grow wide and a finger was tapping on your shoulder.
Over your shoulder was the same dazzling smile that left you breathless earlier in the night. “Hola mamita. I’m Richard. Sorry about before. It’s all about the show ya’know and you kinda drew me in with the…” He lifted his pointer finger and drew it in a few times.
A giggle escaped your lips before you could remind yourself to be cool. “I’m Y/N but don’t worry about it. It’s totally cool, I think we make pretty good dance partners.”
Liz rolled her eyes from behind Richard. “Sexy.” She mouthed as she grinded the air behind him.
He smirked and held his hand out. “Well we should keep dancing then.” You took his hand and followed him further into the crowd.
The two of you began to dance apart singing back and forth to Promiscuous. His caramel skin gleaming from the sweat of his performance before and it only made you more aroused now.
Suddenly you gasped and froze where you were standing. The ex you had so recently grieved was now standing behind Richard staring at the two of you. Richard froze along with you. He grabbed your cheek as he turned to follow your gaze. “Que paso baby?”
“That’s my ex boyfriend. We broke up a while ago and this is the first time I’m seeing him.” You said not breaking the stare.
Richard turned back towards you, put his hand on the small of your waist and pulled you in. “Are you guys cool or should we have a little fun with him?”
Your eyebrow lifted, considering the consequences of this proposition but then you looked into Richard’s lust-filled cocoa eyes. He licked his lips and his tongue lingered at the corner before he smiled. Your arm came up to the back of his neck and your nails scratched at his scalp leisurely. “Let’s have some fun.”
He pulled you in tight so that you straddled his right thigh as you rocked to the merengue that was playing in the club. His hands dug into your back to hold you as close as he could. He kindly tugged your dress down that was riding up as you grinded on his thigh and you hated yourself for not wearing underwear that could protect poor Richard’s pants from how wet you were. Abruptly, Richard laced his fingers into the hair at the bottom of your head and tugged back hard. You were filled with a moment of shock and pain before he slammed his lips into yours. He nibbled at your bottom lip and once you granted him entrance he moaned into your mouth.
You broke apart in a smile as you heard Christopher’s classic cackle of a laugh behind you. “AYYY!!”
Josh, your ex shouldered Richard as he angrily huffed past the two of you. Richard immediately tensed up but you leaned forward and nibbled on his earlobe. “We can have a little more fun if you want.” You shocked yourself with your alcohol-induced boldness.
“Ven mamita.” He whispered and you crossed your legs to hold the wetness.
*****************************************************************************************************
Once you were in CNCO’s dressing room backstage of the club, Richard pushed your back to the closed door and kissed down your neck. His hands slid down your sides and lifted up the ends of your dress.
“Y/N” He growled as he stepped back to stare at your naked body. “You came to the club with nothing on under this.” He scooped you up under your thighs and carried you to the couch that was covered in the boys dirty clothes.
“I’m gonna make you forget anything that guy ever did to you. Any hurt, any pleasure, any pain.” He pushed the dress up and kissed down your neck.
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SABIDURÍA DE VIEJA...
"Mira, mija, pa´que dejes de andar quejándote, te voy a dar unas cuantas sugerencias pa' que vivas bien, y no nomás sobrevivas...
¡Mírame a mí, estoy en la flor de la vida y me sigo riendo !
1.- Agradece por todo
2.- Cuando puedas comer... come,
cuando puedas dormir... duerme,
cuando puedas disfrutar... disfruta,
cuando puedas trabajar ....trabaja,
y si aún puedes, échate unos traguitos, juega con los hijos, haz el amor o ponte a silbar, a cantar en la ducha, y dá gracias a Dios o a la vida porque tienes Salud.
No te la pases quejando,
¡¡ayyy si hubieraaaa!, ¡¡ayyy les di! ...¡ayyy si tuviera... ¡cuánto sacrificio!, ¡no m'ijita, altas y bajas siempre han habido y siempre habrán!
3.- Si en la noche no puedes dormir,
sí estás vuelta y vuelta en la cama,
pos' párate y ponte a hacer algo, arregla un cajón, plancha tu blusa pa mañana, ponte a leer, porque si te quedas acostada con los ojos abiertos...
¡vas pensar puras tonterías!
Y lo pior es que te paras y las haces...
Ya de por sí......
4.- Los problemas grandotes, esos que son del mundo, y que se oyen en la televisión, que sí se está calentando el planeta, que sí a tal país ya se le llevaron los dineros, que si los narcos... ¿esos mija?, mándalos a la m...
¡¡no los vas a arreglar tú!
Luego ni les entiendes,
¡no te hagas bolas!
Deja que los que pueden, los arreglen.
Pero tú... ocúpate de los que se ven más chiquitos, esos que sí están en tus manos.
Despabílate, aunque sea a ratos, atiende esos, los demás
¡¡al demonio...!
5.- Si te dan... agarra todo lo que te den.
Agárralo, aprovéchalo, así sea un beso o una tontería, porque uno vive pensando, que las cosas las genera uno, pero no sabes de qué forma te llegan...
¡así que tú agarra y no te acorbades!
6.- ¡Ahhh! pero eso si..
¡No agarres lo que no es tuyo¡
ni la bicicleta, ni la bolsa, ni el dinero, ni al marido o amante de otra, lo ajeno respétalo, es de otra, cada quien tiene lo suyo, ¡lo que se gana y lo que se merece!
7.- Lo que hagas
hazlo con ganas, con muchas ganas y mucho gusto, y hazlo bien o no lo hagas y déjate de tonterías, olvídate de las envidias tú ...a lo tuyo porque no sabes cuánto vales...
8.- Cuídate de las malvadas y aléjate de las tontas, fíjate bien como son ....porque ¡¡hay desgraciadas!,
conócelas y nunca seas como ellas..
Ayuda y escucha a tus amigas,
no hables mal de la gente, ní de las malvadas, ni de las tontas,
sé orgullosa, pero no seas arrogante ni prepotente.
Sé humilde, no agachada;
sé valiente, no imprudente.
Cuando ganes, sonríe, cuando pierdas, no armes un escándalo, y si te dá la gana... llora.
9.- Nunca te preocupes por lo que no tienes, por lo que no puedes comprar,
cuántas malvadas que tienen todo el dinero del mundo están en la cárcel, enfermas de la cabeza, o guardadas en un hospital, asustadas e inseguras, o tienen un marido tonto, no son felices, no saben comunicarse, no tienen una familia como la tuya.
Tú tienes algo más valioso que es ....tu gente y tu salud.
10.- Manda al diablo a la Muerte
que sea ella la que se preocupe por no poderte llevar, y no seas tú la que se preocupe porque ya te va a llevar!
¿Así ?, ¿o más claro?
Y, por último, mijita, si la vida te dá limones ...
¡¡ Qué limonada, ni qué un demonio !!
'' TU PIDE TEQUILA Y SAL'
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