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xiaojunsmintchoco · 11 months

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Cold brew - Na Jaemin

pairing: barista!jaemin x barista!reader

genre: fluff, angst; enemies to lovers, coffee shop au

synopsis: at the coffee shop you work at, there's always this regular who comes and orders the same cup of cold brew coffee every morning without fail. you end up having a rather rude interaction with him one morning when you accidentally spill his coffee on him before his job interview – which turns out to be for the very same coffee shop you're working at. it doesn't matter to you that he got the job, but the fact that he's always on the same shift as you never fails to get on your nerves. Will the two of you sort out your feud, or will the both of you continue to brew these cold feelings towards each other?

a/n: this is a very VERY long overdue fic for @hcsarchive ! i’m really really sorry for the long hiatus y’all, and for the decline in quality of writing and banner design :”) but to star, i genuinely hope you enjoy this fic that i churned up at 2 in the morning, and that your life will be filled with joy and many many good things! it’s been great having you as my friend, though we haven’t interacted much </3 I promise i’ll try to be more active here <3

"One venti cold brew for Na Jaemin!" you call, voice ringing out through the coffee shop amid the clinking of mugs and cutlery and cool jazz music playing in the background. As expected, a young man clad in a mint green hoodie and jeans rushes up to the counter. His soft, ebony-black bangs fall over his coffee-brown eyes as he claims his drink from you with a muffled "thanks" before scurrying off again, black backpack hanging from his back and laptop case in hand.

"He came again?" Lia asks, popping a pastry into the oven and setting the timer.

You nod in response. “Na Jaemin. Here every morning, at the exact same time ordering the exact same thing”.

"Aren't many of our customers like this too?" Lia questions, uncertain as to why you suddenly brought up this particular customer.

"Yeah, but they're not always here at the exact same time every day – sometimes they come a few minutes earlier or later. And even if they have regular orders, they sometimes order different things. This guy is here at 7 am on the dot every day without fail, and he always, always orders a venti size cold brew. I don't recall him having ordered anything different," you explain to Lia as the timer on the oven goes off, and you take the croissant out.

"Wow, how are you so observant towards these details outside of his regular drink order? It's as if you're specifically keeping your eye out for his arrival. Are you?" Lia questions, raising her eyebrows at you.

"What the hell, no!" You hurriedly deny.

"But he's your ideal type, is he not? Brown eyes, black hair, pretty cute," Lia replies with a smirk as she gets to preparing a latte, and in that moment you regret the day you'd spoken about your ideal types to each other.

"I mean yes, but we don’t even know each other! We’ve barely exchanged any words apart from him mumbling his thanks to me when I pass him his drink,” you protest.

“So? He comes here every day, you’ll sure have a chance to get to know him better,” Lia insists.

“One grande caffe latte for Kai!” you call out, placing the drink on the counter and flashing a smile at the customer, who says a “thank you”, picks up the drink and casually saunters off, in contrast to how Jaemin had practically flown out the door after collecting his order from you earlier. “I don’t know. Compared to all our other customers, he seems to be in a constant rush. He’s like the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland!”

Still, Lia remains adamant. “Trust me, if he’s your destined soulmate, there will be a way for you both to get to know each other. Really”.

You shrug, getting to work making a java chip frappuccino. “Nah, I don’t think he is. He’s probably just the eye candy who comes into our shop every morning for his daily cold brew”.

Lia simply hums and turns around to take the next customer’s order, while a mild pang of longing settles in your heart. Yes, you knew he was really just eye candy to you, but a part of you wished that you’d at least be able to interact with him a little and get to know him as an acquaintance at least.

»»————-　☕️　————-««

Your wish comes true the next day — or at least the first part of it. You finally get to properly interact with him, past the muffled “thank yous” he would give you whenever you passed him his cold brew every morning.

But was it pleasant?

Far from that.

It’s about 2:30 pm in the afternoon, and the cafe is way more hectic than it should be at this time. Throngs of people flood the cafe, leaving all of the baristas overwhelmed, yourself included.

“I thought people drink morning coffee, not afternoon coffee!” Lia complains, practically sprinting to the other end of the counter, carrying a customer’s order on a black tray. “One blueberry muffin and one vanilla sweet cream cold brew for Shanice!”

“I know right. Suddenly everyone’s ordering their coffee in the afternoon for some weird reason!” you exclaim, hurrying to save the pastries in the oven before they burned to a crisp.

Your already-divided attention is briefly stolen by the sight of a familiar face coming in through the door — it’s none other than Na Jaemin. Weird, he already came in the morning, you think to yourself, already moving towards the cold brew machine out of instinct. You can’t help but notice he’s changed out of his usual hoodie and jeans into slacks, a white long-sleeved collared shirt and a blazer, more formal than the casual attire he normally dons, which leads you to think that he has something important on. As soon as you place the pastries on the counter, you head over to the register where Jaemin is to take his order. “Hi, what can I get for you?” you recite the standard phrase.

“One venti cold brew, please,” he states.

“Alright, I’ll get that for you. Na Jaemin, right?” you ask, picking up a venti-size cup and a marker, scribbling the name on as he nods.

You put some ice in the cup, and then stride over to where the brewed coffee is stored before dispensing enough to fill the cup. Just as you’re bringing it to the collection point, a voice calls for you. “Y/n! Hurry, there’s more orders!” one of your colleagues yells.

“Okay, coming soon!” you reply back, calling out Jaemin’s name and order, passing the drink to him and preparing to hurry off.

Only, you’d been too fast in handing the drink to him and had let go before his hands were properly around the cup, resulting in the cup falling from your hands and spilling coffee all over his shirt. Your jaw falls to the floor along with the cup as you watch his white shirt turn coffee-brown and prepare to offer multiple sincere apologies, maybe even offer to pay for his shirt to be cleaned.

But before you can do that, he hits the roof. “Ugh! I have a job interview, you idiot! Why are you so careless?” he exclaims, clearly livid. Veins bulge out visibly from his forehead, a clear sign of his fury. Heads snap in your direction as the commotion distracts customers from whatever they were doing previously.

Annoyance at how Jaemin had unnecessarily blown up at you, coupled with stress from the already overwhelming shift began to take over you, and you had to use every fiber in your being to maintain your professionalism and not hurl the best insult you could think of back at him. “Sir, I’m extremely sorry”. You murmur repeated apologies as you get several wet tissues for him. “I’ll be willing to pay for the cleaning costs, just let me know how much it costs when you next visit us”.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t seem to appease Jaemin. “That’s not the point. I don’t have spare clothes, you know! Now I might not get my job!” Jaemin exclaims, eyes boring into you accusingly. Unsure of what to say, you remain silent, your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish’s. “Thanks a lot, I suppose,” he spits, making sure his sarcasm came across clearly. With that, he takes his half-empty drink cup and stalks off.

Meanwhile, you’re left with a taste that's even more bitter than the cold brew in your mouth from the encounter. “Wow, that was pretty rude of him,” Lia comments, coming up beside you. “Maybe you should have ensured that he was actually holding the cup before letting go, but that was still out of line on his end”.

You sigh, shaking your head and turning back to the cash register, preparing to serve the next customer. “Whatever. Let’s forget that this happened”.

»»————-　☕️　————-««

A week has passed since the incident, and you’ve all but forgotten about it, the incident almost having been cleared from your memory completely.

Until you see a familiar face coming in at 2:30 pm — none other than Na Jaemin, the customer who’d yelled at you rather rudely that day when you’d made an honest mistake. “Lia? Can you take this next customer? I’d rather not interact with him again,” you whisper to your co-worker while glaring daggers at him.

To your surprise, Lia shakes her head. “I don’t think he’s here to order, actually. I think he’s here for his first day on the job”.

You narrow your eyes at her as a sense of foreboding comes over you. “What do you mean?”

“He’s our new barista, and he’ll be working here part-time. Did no one tell you?” Lia explains, wiping the counter top. “The job interview he mentioned last week — it was for a position here as a barista”.

“No way. Please tell me you’re lying”. You feel your eyes grow to the size of the saucers in your hands.

She shakes her head. “I’m being for real here”.

You watch as your supervisor comes out to meet Jaemin and they exchange greetings, before she passes him a set of uniform and he heads to the restrooms. “Oh, my gosh”. Your hand comes up to your forehead, and your lips form a thin line as you feel your annoyance levels peak again. “No way I’m sharing shifts with this guy”.

Lia shrugs. “Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think. Hopefully he forgot that it was you who spilled coffee on him last week,” she says while placing a hand on your shoulder, in an effort to appease you.

At that moment, your supervisor comes out of the store room with Jaemin in tow and approaches you and the other baristas. “Everyone, this is our new employee, Na Jaemin,” she says, introducing him to all of you. “Some of you may know him, as he’s a regular at our cafe. He’ll be working the afternoon shift from Monday to Wednesday. I hope all of you look after him well, and show him the ropes”. She then takes her leave as Jaemin comes to join all of you behind the counter.

“Hello everyone,” Jaemin greets, his pearly whites appearing as he gives all of you a small bow. So cute! You internally squeal as you greet him back. It was the first time you’d seen him properly smile, as every time he ordered coffee from you, his face had this permanently exhausted look on it thanks to what you can only assume to be the university student life. You return his greeting, relaxing as you realise that maybe Lia was right and he’d forgotten about the incident.

Or…maybe not.

“Aren’t you the barista who spilled my drink on me last week?” Jaemin questions as he pours milk into a blender, eyes narrowing into slits as he stares at you. “How do you still have a job? You can’t even serve a drink properly”.

Okay, that does it for you. First day on the job and he’s already being so rude?

“Can you just forget about it? You got the job in the end, didn’t you?” you snap, making your annoyance clear as you somewhat aggressively spray whipped cream onto a customer’s drink. “Also why are you showing disrespect to colleagues on your first day here? How did you even get hired?”

Jaemin shrugs, and you feel a vexation prick at the back of your neck at his nonchalant attitude. “Bold of you to talk about respect, considering you were pretty disrespectful to me last week by spilling my own drink order on me”.

"Shut the fuck up, will you?" you hiss, trying to keep your voice from rising to fever pitch, in order to not attract unpleasant attention to the both of you.

Jaemin opens his mouth to retort, but Lia steps in. “Enough, you two. Let’s just move on from the incident, shall we? I’m sure she didn’t mean to do that”.

Shooting her a grateful look, you move over to the shelf to grab a tea bag to prepare a customer’s order. “Not quite your ideal type anymore, huh?” Lia whispers from next to you as she washes a mug.

Cringing, you shake your head furiously. “Appearance wise, still yes. Personality-wise, definitely not”.

»»————-　☕️　————-««

Ever since Jaemin joined the team, it was almost like you couldn’t have a peaceful day at work, especially since you and Jaemin always shared the same shifts. Both of you were constantly at each other's throats now, even over small things, and today wasn't any different.

“Y/n! You didn’t heat this up long enough!” Jaemin hollers, gesturing to the chocolate chip cookie on the counter top.

Rolling your eyes, you turn around to address him. “You didn’t serve it on time and it’s cooled down, you idiot. Also, Seungkwan asked for an extra espresso shot, which you didn’t add in. Who’s the one who can’t do his job properly now, huh? I hope the boss fires you one of these days”.

As a look of hurt flashes across Jaemin’s face for a fleeting moment, you feel a small pang of guilt hit you. Jaemin covers it up by rolling his eyes at you and muttering “piece of shit”, before moving over to add the extra espresso shot as you shove the plate with the cookie on it into the oven again. At that moment, his ringtone sounds out, and he takes his phone out of his apron pocket. Colour drains from his face at the sight of the caller ID, and he hurriedly excuses himself to the storeroom, leaving you to man the counter yourself since both Lia and the other barista weren’t able to make it to work today. “Hi, what can I get for you?” you inquire, plastering a smile on your face and turning to face the customer, who asks for a cappuccino.

You open up the mini-fridge below the counter, only to find that there’s no more milk left. No big deal, you could always get more from the bigger fridge in the store room. Heading over to the store room, you push the door open and prepare to step inside when Jaemin’s voice stops you in your tracks. “…what? The surgery costs that much? I thought it was cheaper…”

Peeking through the door slightly, you’re greeted by the sight of Jaemin pacing around the small room and clutching onto a handful of his black hair. From his tone and demeanour, it was evident that he was in a clear state of stress. "Yes, I got the job, but I don't think my earnings from the shifts I'm working currently can cover the costs". Another pause. "It's alright. I'll just ask the supervisor if I can work more shifts. It's more important that grandma gets well. Okay, bye. Send my well-wishes to her".

Jaemin turns around and you dart back out of the room to avoid being seen, but you still catch a glimpse of the tear drops falling from his eyes, sending a pang to your heart. Sure, you both argued all the time at work, but it didn't mean that you had no empathy for him at all, now that you had an idea of his circumstances — even if it was a vague one. You recall when he lashed out at you for spilling coffee on him just before his interview, and now you're able to better understand his reaction, thanks to the newly learned information about his grandmother’s situation. Yes, his reaction was still rude and unnecessarily harsh, but he was going through a stressful time himself. Guilt floods you suddenly as you think of all the times you'd flung harsh words at him for no reason.

As Jaemin emerges from the store room, you enter and get the milk and start preparing the customer's drink, all while this question replayed in your head: what could you do to help him?

"Y/n!" a clear voice sounds from the cash register, and you recognise it to be your regular customer and best friend from junior college – Chaewon.

Enthusiastically returning her greeting, you inquire about her order. "Chae! What would you like today?"

Chaewon scans the menu and makes her decision. "I'll get a tall strawberry frappuccino, no whipped, takeaway".

"No problem!" You answer, and prepare the drink for her as she goes to the side to wait. "One tall strawberry frappuccino for Chaewon!" you announce, and your friend skips up to collect her drink.

"Thank you! Here's a tip for you – you deserve it," Chaewon adds with a wink as she stuffs a wad of notes into your hand before sauntering away. "See you in class tomorrow!"

"See you Chae!" you call back. You head into the store room, intending to keep the money in your wallet, until the sight of Jaemin's wallet peeking out of his backpack catches your attention. A thought then hits you: why not give the tips I get to Jaemin? He needs it more than I do, anyway.

Without a second thought, your hands are already pulling the wallet out of his bag and stashing the tip Chaewon gave you into the wallet. Putting the wallet back where it was, you stride out of the room again as if nothing happened. Yeah, I'll keep doing this. Hopefully it helps to ease Jaemin's financial burden, you think to yourself.

Thankfully, the rest of the day goes by without a hitch. “Y/n! Good job today, just finish the last order and then you can go,” your supervisor comments, giving you a small smile. “Here’s today’s pay. See you tomorrow!” she finishes, passing you an envelope which contained your day’s earnings.

“Thank you so much ma’am! See you tomorrow!” You reply, calling for the last customer and then heading off to the store room to collect your bag. Peeking inside, you catch Jaemin gawking at his open wallet, prompting you to just stay outside and observe his reaction for a while. "No way. I don't remember receiving any tips. So how did this cash appear?" he asks himself, opening and closing his wallet repeatedly – even slapping himself at one point. "Oh my goodness. Whichever supernatural power provided me with this, thank you," he whispers, putting his cash into his wallet before shutting it again and placing it in his bag. His stressed expression melts away, and is replaced by a smile – one of relief and hope. The sight makes your heart rate increase faster than you'd like to admit, but you ignore it and exit the coffee shop, glad that you were able to do something to brighten up Jaemin's day.

»»————-　☕️　————-««

Jaemin had gotten the green light from your supervisor to work extra shifts, so over the next few weeks you both see each other more often as all his shifts coincide with yours. Though both of you are still rather cold towards each other, you argue less with him as you force yourself to hold your tongue whenever you're tempted to spew unkind things at him, knowing that he was going through a rough time.

And of course, you continue with your plan of secretly giving him all the tips that customers leave you – whether it was sixty cents or fifty bucks.

Today's just another day at work, and you overhear Jaemin on the phone as you're busy whipping up drinks for customers again. "Oh my gosh, no way".

Though you know it’s technically wrong, the saying “eavesdroppers never hear any good about themselves” leaves your memory momentarily as you prick up your ears to listen to the conversation, hoping that it was news about his grandmother. As his voice raises in pitch and grows increasingly excited, you feel your heart begin to beat faster as well, like the wings of a bird about to take off. "We only need $50 more and she can get surgery? That's fantastic news!"

Your heart swelled with joy, so much so that you thought it would burst right there and then in the cafe. Jaemin's grandmother would be saved! Though you didn't know the elderly woman, hearing the news still made you nearly melt in relief.

"Thank you, see you again!" you flash a bright smile to a customer as you hand them their order.

"Thank you! Here's a tip for you!" the customer replies and hands you some cash. Accepting it gratefully, you take a peek at it, and your heart leaps even higher than before at the sight. It's a fifty dollar note!

"Just what Jaemin needs!" you whisper to yourself, stashing the note in your pocket and making a mental note to put the money in his wallet when the day was over, since it was a very busy time at the cafe right now.

As promised, you secretly stash the note in his wallet again after your shift is over. Hopefully, this covers the costs of the surgery, you think to yourself as you pull the wallet out, unclasp it and stuff the money in.

“Wait, it’s you?” A familiar voice sounds from behind you, making you jump and whip your head around at breakneck speed as his wallet falls out of your grip and onto the floor with a clatter.

“Jaemin?” you blurt out dumbly, stunned by your colleague’s sudden appearance.

“Y/n? It’s you who’s been giving me the extra money?” Jaemin responds, seemingly even more astonished by the whole situation than you were.

It’s at this moment you realise there’s no point hiding it from him any further — he’d already discovered the "culprit" behind the extra money appearing in his wallet. “Yes, it’s me,” you sigh, handing his wallet back to him. “Look, I'm really sorry about this, but I happened to overhear your phone converstion with someone one day, and you were saying something about there not being enough money to send your grandmother for some kind of surgery or something like that. You seemed so sad and I just couldn’t bear to see it because I know it must be so stressful, having a family member who’s severely ill and not having financial means to get them treatment. So I thought I’d just quietly help you by giving you whatever tips customers left for me — I don’t really need the extra money right now. I did all this secretly, because I was worried you’d accuse me of purposefully eavesdropping or pitying you if you knew what I was doing. Also, it’d be awkward if I were to suddenly start intervening in your family matters since we’re both not really on good terms right now,” you explain, attempting to clear the air of confusion by explaining your intentions.

For a few moments, the only sound in the store room is the drone of whatever machinery is keeping the old fridge running as Jaemin slowly processes what you'd just told him. Finally, he speaks up. "Y/n, you have absolutely no idea how much that means to me. I was so, so worried when I found out the actual cost of the surgery, and that we might not be able to pay for it on time for my grandmother to survive. For so many nights, I couldn't sleep for so long because I was so worried," he explains. "But thanks to your kind donations, we'll be able to pay for it before she gets it today. Words alone can't express my gratitude to you. Really". He looks up and meets your gaze, and his eyes are moist with emotion.

Your lips curve into a gentle smile. "I'm glad I could help, Jaemin. I hope your grandmother's surgery goes well, and for her to have a speedy and stable recovery," you answer.

"I'm going to the hospital to visit her now, so I'll convey your well wishes to her. See you tomorrow, y/n". As he leaves the store room, he shows you a genuine smile, the first one he'd shown you ever since you both became coworkers.

Your heart melts at the sight, like the marshmallows you used to top orders of hot chocolate. "See you tomorrow, Jaemin". You return his smile, and continue to pack your own things as well before you leave the cafe. As much as you don't want to admit, for some reason this much more pleasant interaction has you using every single ounce of your willpower to stop yourself from squealing out in joy.

»»————-　☕️　————-««

"Y/n!" A familiar voice calls out to you as you start up the coffee machine next Monday morning.

"Oh hey, Jaemin!" You reply calmly as said boy comes up to you, looking much more relaxed and confident, compared to the usual worried and downcast expression etched on his face that had been the norm for the past few weeks.

"Excuse me," he murmurs, reaching out for the coffee machine and dispensing some into the plastic cup in his hand that was half-filled with ice, before calmly sipping on the beverage. "By the way, my grandmother's surgery was a success, and the doctor's prognosis for her looks good," Jaemin reveals, officially putting your worries about his grandmother to rest.

"Really? That's awesome!" you exclaim, sharing your coworker's joy over the good news.

Jaemin nods, a radiant smile forming on his face as he continues. "On behalf of the rest of my family, thank you so much. I know this probably isn't much, but please, let me treat you to a meal one day".

Though you initially refute his suggestion and say it's not necessary, arguing that you were simply helping him out in his time of need, you eventually give in to his insistence. "How is she now? Is she recovering from surgery well?" you inquire as you pile marshmallows onto a cup of hot chocolate.

"Yes, when I visited her yesterday, she had regained some of her appetite, and though she still seemed quite tired, she had slightly more energy than before, which are good signs," Jaemin replies, blending a matcha frappuccino. "Actually, do you want to come with me to visit her after work today?"

"Why not? I don't have anything on today, so I should be able to come," you reply.

"Alright then!" Jaemin grins, before turning and calling for the customer to pick up their order.

You return your attention to the drink you were making, totally surprised by your exchange with Jaemin earlier — much more pleasant compared to the interactions you’d had prior to this day. Maybe the saying your teachers had drilled into your head since elementary school was true. A small act of kindness could turn a situation around — in this case, it helped Jaemin’s family afford a life-saving surgery for his grandmother, and helped you and Jaemin warm up to each other.

»»————-　☕️　————-««

Before you both go to visit his grandmother, Jaemin insists on treating you to a sumptuous burger dinner. Which is how you both end up at a restaurant, with the juiciest chicken burger you've ever seen in your life, along with fries that have been fried to crisp golden brown perfection and a cup of iced lemon tea.

“How’s life been?” Jaemin asks, tucking into his own burger.

“Oh, it’s been quite chill. I just finished my graduating exam not long ago and am waiting for my results to come out, so I don’t really have much to do. That’s why I took on this job — to earn some money and pass my time,” you explain, picking up a few fries and popping them into your mouth, savouring the crunch that followed. “What about you?”

“University’s been kicking my ass,” Jaemin groans. “The professors have gone ham on my class — who gives their students freaking five essays to finish in a week? On top of that, I’ve got frisbee practices after school and also this job. Luckily my grandmother’s condition has stabilised, or else I’d have even more stress to deal with,” he adds.

“Oh my, that sounds tough. All the best,” you grunt empathetically, knowing exactly how he felt. Though you had never studied in a university, you’d just finished junior college, and had experienced days where the onslaught of homework seemed never ending, leaving you feeling as if you were going to suffocate to death under the workload that only seemed to get heavier and heavier each day. “Oh yeah — speaking of your grandmother, what exactly happened to her? If you’re not comfortable sharing this with me, please don’t feel obligated to do so,” you hurriedly add at the end. You were aware that this was a very sensitive topic, and that Jaemin might wish to keep such matters to himself.

“About that…” Jaemin’s voice trails off, and he scratches his head as he contemplates whether to tell you or not. “Okay. I’ll tell you, since you’re the one who basically saved her life,” he decides, before beginning his story. “It was cancer. Stomach cancer. She lost her appetite, and often complained of stomach pain. Initially, we thought that it was simply a stomach bug, and we took her to the doctor who just prescribed her some medication. But she didn’t improve — if anything, she got worse. The day she began vomiting blood, we knew that something was terribly wrong. A check up at the hospital revealed that she had stage 3 stomach cancer”.

“Oh gosh, that’s horrible,” you muse, brows forming a furrow in the center of your forehead.

“It was. Our whole family was devastated, especially knowing that she wouldn’t have any chance of survival unless she went for surgery. But at that point of time, my dad had just been laid off, meaning that we weren’t able to afford to pay for the operation. Hence we began scrimping and saving, with my dad taking on three jobs in order to try to earn some money. My mother took on two odd jobs, while also having to look after my younger siblings at home. I was really anxious about my grandmother, and I felt terrible seeing how exhausted my parents were. So, I decided to do whatever I can to help, which is why I took on this job, thinking that the salary I’d earn would be sufficient. But the hospital called back to say that the cost of the surgery would actually be more expensive than we initially thought, since my grandmother’s case was extra complicated, and it sent me back into a panic because I knew that even with extra shifts, the money I earned might not even be able to cover the costs. Gosh, I’m so glad it’s over,” Jaemin finishes, breathing out a sigh. The tears that had welled up in his eyes, now pouring out like rain, spoke volumes just how bleak that period had been for Jaemin.

The sight of him tearing up made your heart ache. “I’m so sorry you guys went through that,” you murmur, reaching over to rub his shoulder to comfort him. “That must have been so tough. Fortunately, you guys were able to afford the procedure in the end. You're so strong".

Jaemin nods. “And it’s all thanks to you”.

“Now I know why you were so worked up that day,” you add, thinking back to the day when you’d had your first proper interaction with Jaemin.

A quizzical look comes upon Jaemin’s face. “Which day?”

“The day you came to the cafe for your job interview. I spilled your drink on you, remember?” you remind him, a sheepish smile gracing your features.

Jaemin's brows furrow as he searches his brain, trying to recall the moment you had mentioned. His eyes widen, and he snaps his fingers as the memory returns to him. "Oh! Right! Oh my, I still feel so bad about it, jeez," he exclaims, his palm meeting his forehead. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that over such a small thing. I think that's why our relationship has been so sour".

"No, no, it's fine. That was in the past, was it not?" you say, reassuring Jaemin that you don't hold any grudges against him over past events. “I’m sorry too, for saying that I hoped the boss would fire you, when it was a time when you needed this job most”.

“It’s alright. Honestly, I don’t even have any memory of that incident, anyway,” Jaemin chuckles, popping the last of his fries into his mouth. “You done? Let’s go, then,” he decides as you nod.

At the hospital, you get to know Jaemin’s grandmother. She took the chance to express her thanks towards you for donating the money that went towards her life-saving surgery. "Jaemin told me all about it," she mentions. "Thank you so much. Make sure to treat her to something nice," she adds, directing her comment towards Jaemin.

"He already has, and besides, there's no need for it," you chuckle. "I’m just happy that I could help".

Your evening ends with you and Jaemin spending an hour chatting with the affable elderly lady over the happenings in your lives, who was a pleasure to talk to. "Thank you for coming over to visit! I hope to see you again, y/n. You're coming again tomorrow, right?" she confirms with Jaemin.

"Yep, that's right. See you tomorrow, grandma. Have a good rest," he replies, giving his grandmother a hug before leading you out of the ward and shutting the door.

The walk out of the hospital is silent, but this time it's a comfortable silence and not one that's permeated by a frosty, cold atmosphere. "So…coming tomorrow?" Jaemin asks, breaking the silence.

"I think I can come," you reply. "I should be free. If you and your grandmother are okay with that, of course," you hastily add.

Jaemin snorts and chortles at your answer. "Of course I'm alright with it! Why would I ask you if I wasn't? And plus my grandmother literally just said she hopes to see you again," he replies.

"Alright then, I'll come," you confirm, laughs pouring out of your mouth as well. From relentlessly firing abrasive remarks at each other to being able to laugh together, you and Jaemin's relationship sure had come a long way.

»»————-　☕️　————-««

In the days that follow, you find yourself tagging along with Jaemin to visit his grandmother more often whenever you're free after work, and having dinner with him after. Through these interactions, both of you grow closer, and the fluttering in your heart whenever he cracks a joke or pulls a silly antic increases in frequency, which you often try to suppress. As much as you try to deny it, you’ve grown fonder of him as the days go by, as he shows more and more of his true self to you.

It's also no surprise that now the old lady sees you as her own granddaughter, and often treats you as such. You came to trust her with whatever was on your mind as well, sharing with her deeper things that were on your heart and mind and taking the sensible advice she offered. She would also humour you with many different stories, from both her own and Jaemin's childhood.

Today, however, was slightly different. You had gone to visit Jaemin's grandmother by yourself, since Jaemin had to attend a project meeting with his group mates after work. So here you were, seated in a chair beside her bed and laughing out loud as she let you in on some of the embarrassing things Jaemin had done in his childhood.

"You know, Jaemin used to be so shy to talk to girls when he was a child. Last time, he'd come and hide behind me whenever girls tried to talk to him. I would have to coax him out just to say hi!" she explains, chortling as she relates the memory to you and your eyes go wide. Jaemin seemed so comfortable around you, you'd never have known that he was so shy as a kid.

"Really?" you ask, letting the surprise sink in.

"Yes, really," his grandmother confirms. "And whenever he liked any girl he never ever made any move to confess. He simply kept his feelings to himself and only ever spoke to me about them".

"Wow, I didn't know," you laugh.

"Yeah, Jaemin was terribly shy as a child. Come to think of it, you're the only girl he's been this comfortable with," she adds. "I actually think he feels a certain way towards you, but he doesn't want to say anything," she adds.

"How would you know?" You inquire, brows furrowing in surprise. Surely she was wrong?

"He's always bringing you along on his visits, if you're available. And when you're not, it seems to make him feel a bit sad," the old lady begins explaining. "Every visit, he has to mention at least one thing about you – even if it's as small as the smile you gave him when he arrived at work".

"Oh…I see". You falter in your reply, unsure of how to process what his grandmother had just told you.

"And when I tried asking him about it, he tried so hard to deny his own feelings for you. But I can read my grandson, you know. He likes you more than a friend, but he doesn't want to say anything. He's too shy, and he’s scared that he’ll spoil the friendship between you two," his grandmother adds, before shooting you a question that catches you off guard. "Do you feel the same towards him too?"

"Well I- I…" you stutter even more, unsure of your response. "Okay, maybe I do. At first it was purely due to his looks, because I always saw him order from us during my shifts and found him really handsome. But as I got to know him better, I found things about his personality attractive too. Like how he loves his family so much, he'd willingly sacrifice more of his limited time to work extra shifts to provide the money they need. And how gentle he is towards the people he cares about. There's more, but if I were to list them all I'll be here past visiting hours," you joke, while at the same time voicing your true thoughts and feelings about Jaemin.

His grandmother nods, processing your answer. "I see. From my previous interactions with you, I can tell that you're a sensible, compassionate young lady as well, and I think you'd be a good match for my grandson. Now that you know he feels the same way towards you, will you be bold and take the first step to tell him your feelings?" she asks, looking up at you with hope in her eyes.

“I…” you trail off, not knowing if you should accede to her request. On one hand, you had come to terms with the fact that you fancied Jaemin more than a friend, and what you felt was probably not just a fleeting crush, and you badly wished to get these feelings off your chest. On the other hand, you were immensely worried about what would happen if you told Jaemin these things.

That he would see you differently.

That he’d reject you, and you’d have to deal with the sting that would come after.

That the friendship between both of you would be affected.

There was just so much to worry about!

“Y/n, I know what you’re thinking. I know you’re worried about his reaction,” Jaemin’s grandmother drawls understandingly. “But trust me, he’s thinking the exact same things as you, and because of that he’s not willing to make the first move. So, now the ball is in your court. Are you willing to take that risk?” She asks, her gaze on you unmoving.

“I…I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it,” you answer honestly.

His grandmother nods, grunting in understanding. “Alright then, if you wish. There’s no pressure on you to do anything, really. The choice is really yours. But believe me — it would make his day”.

That day, you left the hospital in the biggest dilemma you’ve been in for a long while.

»»————-　☕️　————-««

It doesn’t take too long for you to make up your mind.

“I’m gonna do it”. You declare, striding out of the store room as you tie up your apron. It’s a monday morning, and you’re back at work again.

“Do what?” Lia asks, a quizzical expression coming over her.

“I’m gonna shoot my shot”.

At this, Lia lets the plastic cups in her hand clatter to the floor. “You’re what?”

You move quickly to help her pick up the cups. “I said what I said. I’m shooting my shot today”.

“Yes, yes, I heard you, but with who?” Lia speaks quickly, looking as if she’s just heard the most ridiculous new in her life.

“Na Jaemin, duh,” you answer, stacking the plastic cups up where they should be.

“You’re- no way.”

“Yes way. I’ve decided I’m gonna take my chances today, and if it doesn’t go as planned- oh well, what’s the worst that could happen? At most, I get rejected and I lose a friend,” you reason, explaining your thought process — though more so to try and calm your nerves than to appease Lia’s curiosity. Truth be told, you were becoming extremely jumpy, and you felt like you were going to begin bouncing off the walls any moment.

“Are you insane? There is no way on earth he’s going to reject you!” Lia exclaims, staring at you incredulously. “If he rejects you, it means the sky’s gonna fall down tomorrow”.

“How are you so sure?” you question, narrowing your eyes into slits as you stare at her.

“It’s so obvious, duh. I can practically see hearts in his eyes whenever he looks at you!” she answers as she gives the countertop a quick wipedown with a cloth. “Bet he’s too shy to speak his mind, though”.

You shrug in response, arranging a few more mugs on the countertop. “I don’t know. But I’ll see how everything goes”.

“It’ll be more than fine. Trust me,” Lia declares. “But anyway, what’s your plan?”

You whisper your plan into her ear, and her brows furrow disapprovingly. “That’s it? That’s so basic, y/n!” she groans.

“Hey, basic isn’t always bad!” you exclaim, shoving her playfully. “If it works, it works, okay!”

“Whatever”. Lia rolls her eyes jokingly. “But just know I’m rooting for the both of you”.

Fortunately, Jaemin shows up to work punctually, meaning that your plan can be put into action.

“Psst, Jaemin,” you whisper, waving your hand in front of his face. “Earth to Jaemin”.

“Sorry, what?” Jaemin responds, snapping out of his momentary trance.

You can’t help but laugh at his stunned response. “Looks like the mid-afternoon coma is hitting us both — I feel it too. So, I was thinking we make each other a coffee of our choice, just to perk ourselves up. What do you say?”

“Why not? I need the caffeine fix real bad right now anyway,” he reasons, standing up from his chair and moving to where the cups and mugs were placed. “Hot, iced, or ice blended?” he asks.

“Surprise me”. You simply respond, flashing him a grin. “And I’ll surprise you too”.

With that, you both begin whipping up drinks for each other.

You decide to make him a venti vanilla sweet cream cold brew, since his usual order is a cold brew, but you also know that he’s been obsessed with iced vanilla lattes recently — so why not combine the best of both worlds? Being aware that he enjoys having a stronger coffee taste in his drinks, you make his drink a little less sweet.

This is where your plan comes to life. Picking up a marker, you write this on the cup, taking care to write where the vanilla cream is visible:

Be mine?

▢ yes

▢ no

Now, all that’s left to do is to wait for Jaemin to finish with yours, pass him the drink, and then wait for his response.

It sounds so simple in theory, so why do my hands feel heavy as lead now? You question mentally as Jaemin reappears, looking slightly sheepish. “Y/n? I’m done with yours, are you finished with mine?” he asks softly.

“Yes, of course! Here you go,” you exclaim, pass him the cup of cold brew and take your drink, trying to hide how your hands are shaking as if a 9.2 magnitude earthquake is taking place on them.

The sight of your drink sends a new wave of butterflies flying right through you, while at the same time causing a laugh to bubble up in you, which you fight to keep down.

Jaemin had made you a classic latte, but with a hilarious yet heartwarming twist. He’d clearly given his best shot at latte art, as shown from the words on the drink which have now almost dissolved into illegible, messy foam streaks. Fortunately for you, you’re still able to comprehend it.

It’s the exact same thing that you wrote on his cup.

You peek in Jaemin’s direction and catch sight of him gawking at the writing on his cup. “Y/n…” he trails off, his facial expression a clear giveaway of the shock he’s feeling. “I can’t believe we were thinking the exact same thing!” he exclaims, before bursting into guffaws.

“I can’t believe it either,” you respond, now laughing your head off along with him. “Gosh, and to think I was so afraid to do this!”

“So was I!” Jaemin chuckles, sipping on the drink. “If only I knew you had almost the exact same plans as I had”.

“Well…I guess our answers to each other are obvious then,” you giggle. By now, you’re smiling so widely, the corners of your mouth could reach your ears, and you feel as if your whole chest is going to explode with how fast and hard your heart is pounding.

“Well then, cheers to our newfound love for each other,” Jaemin declares, raising his cup and pulling you in for a side hug, all while gazing at you lovingly.

“Cheers,” you respond, bringing your cup to his as you lean closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you soak up the warmth of his embrace.

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ngai0 · 6 months

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[Your Attention on Me, Please!] - Fan Comic Pt. 4

Note: WOOO I'm back with the next update. I just wanna say thank you for all the love and support for this fan comic. It means a lot! This chapter took way longer since I really wanted to show Nagi and MC's progression in their relationship. There are some slight changes I've made that weren't in the original fanfic but I think it helps to interpret the storyline visually. Liya has assisted me with the change of wording (girl ILY so much) just to help with the flow of the manga but everything still follows the original fanfic!

BONUS: since it's October >:3 (yes Nagi is a werewolf from that recent official art and I decided his girl will be Red Riding Hood)

Note: Thank you for reading till the end <3 I also wanna say thank you for liking Nagi's MC/Heroine/YN/whateveryoucallher design! I designed her to contrast Nagi. I enjoy the opposite attracts trope!

Liya and I have talked about the other Blue Lock boys and shoujofying them as well HAHA Each of them would have their own MC with a different design...so maybe look forward to that (If I finish out this fan comic abjfkafafkal)

#blue lock #nagi seishiro #nagi seishiro x reader #fan comic #fanart #nagi seishirou #nagi x reader #nagi x y/n #nagi x yn #its all fake. fictional. for fun

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sunnysam-my · 24 days

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It's ironic almost that Viv shoves "rep" into her shows and went out of her way to include a deaf child at an adult sex circus show for said "rep" but like. Fuck people with visual disabilities right? Because neither of those shows have considered how people with colorblindness or even mild visual impairment might not be able to even WATCH the shows with how bad their colour balancing is.

Viv has completely ignored that having unique designs and color palettes for your world and characters is not only basic design for cartoons but also how you maybe your show accessible to those who struggle visually

Funny you ask me that, I actually already made a post about that signing scene and distracting captioner's notes, because I have a hearing disorder and wanted to add my two cents.

I can't get over the fact the it wasn't a teenager around the age Fizz was when he went to that show with Blitzø. I genuinely can't think why they decided to have a young child be the fan other than it being more wholesome because it was a child.

Think for a second about why this scene there. Fizz was spiraling, consumed by thoughs of not being enough and being a "fake, sellout jester". He himself was a disabled teenager who wanted to be the greatest clown of his times. He ended up as a fake, sellout jester, just like Blitz said. But he saw himself in that kid. He saw for who really he wanted to perform. I don't think it would be as impactful to him if it was regular imp, but this would make infinitely more sense, on so many levels, if this was a teenager. But no, we gotta have a freaking child, because it's just way more cuter that way, right? I genuinely don't understand what other possible reasons for why this was a child, and not a teenager, could be.

I'm also still not over the fucking captions. I had problems with following what was happening in S02E06 of Helluva Boss, because of weirdly described sounds and big chunks of captioner's notes and jokes. That's unacceptable.

The irony of literally being an asshole to deaf/HoH people by purposeful fucking up the caption, the thing we rely on to be able watch a show, only to "give" a representation to said group next episode is almost funny.

But going back to the visuals, yes, it's so hard to watch. HB is better than Hazbin, but both aren't great if you have any sort of vision disorder, and this is coming from someone who just have the regular stuff, shortsightedness, astigmatism etc. The legally blind and colourblind folks must have it hard. HH is a joke when it comes to any sort of contrast. Even if they decided to stick to red(-ish) colours, there's still so much shades to work with. It isn't a impossible to make monochromatic art. In fact it's actually a popular training tool for young artists to learn how to do it even when you have more colours.

Here's some examples of monochromatic and mostly monochromatic art done right.

Now compare one of them with a screenshots from HH, both without saturation (black and white).

Hazbin Hotel isn't even monochromatic and fails miserably at any contrast. So no, it isn't just the problem of lack of hue (colour) differentces, it overall just failed at colour and contrast balancing, especially in the hotel, and there's no defending HH on this, because you have three sliders god damnit!

#hazbin hotel critique #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #disability representation #disability pride #disability #art #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop #vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel #helluva boss

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oneatlatime · 6 months

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Bitter Work

Life took me out at the knees for a couple of weeks but I'm back! I'm hoping this is a nice restful episode after the relentlessness of The Chase.

I have to say, Toph's nicknaming skills are on point. I never would have thought of Sugarqueen, but it fits perfectly.

This is me. Every morning.

Full nose plant from Appa.

And the beat up Sokka quota is fulfilled. Very funny Toph, but completely uncalled for. If someone had catapulted teenage me 50 feet into the air while I was trying to sleep, it would have been fully justifiable homicide.

Aang is always trying to run before he can walk. What was Iroh always saying to Zuko about basics? Aang needs that speech too.

I was really on the ball in my post about how airbenders aren't homicidal, actually. Rock is a stubborn element. Yay me!

Aang earthbends = Earth bends Aang.

Seriously, how did he mess up that badly?

Cozy.

Thank you Zuko for the incredibly obvious exposition that's somehow completely in character. Interesting to see that Iroh and his son had brown hair, but Zuko seems to have black hair. More hair variety in the Fire Nation than I thought.

Tangent time! I love the contrast in social intelligence (I guess that's the term?) in this scene. Zuko wakes Iroh up with an infodump, some bad tea, and then gets straight to discussing strategy. Iroh's first actions are to compliment the bad tea, then dispose of the refill in a way that won't hurt Zuko's feelings (probably not necessary, as Zuko seems to be the type that's oblivious to all things other than the task at hand when he's focused). Iroh, injured and awake for all of 15 seconds, jumps straight to actions that help look after his nephew. And Zuko is trying! That's why he made tea! But still, he doesn't even ask if his uncle's feeling ok. Zuko has such a massive gap in his education - he can probably reel off the specs of all Fire Nation battleships, but he doesn't know how to be a human person. Contrast that with Iroh, and especially Katara, who makes friends and connections with such aggressive forwardness that she's at times more steamroller than teenage girl. It's funny how privilege plays into this too - Zuko comes from probably the single most privileged (on paper) family in the world, yet it's the children of the impoverished water tribe who have the more well-rounded education/socialisation.

"She's crazy and she needs to go down" go a full belly laugh out of me.

"What if I came at the boulder from a different angle?" Jesus I was REALLY on point with my post about the airbenders. Credit where credit is due, this show has such good writing/worldbuilding that viewers have picked up what Toph is laying out in this episode already. Also a little bit of stealth character work in there - since Toph is putting into words what we've been thinking this whole time, she now reads as trustworthy. This show is so good. So thought out.

Maybe it's just VLC being weird, but methinks Katara is having some trouble with her eyeball.

Katara STOP BABYING HIM. This is why I don't like Aang having a crush on her.

Honestly it's refreshing to have Toph giving it to Aang straight, no softening the blows.

I really like this texture.

Sokka's club is a giant bottle opener. Or at least a multitool.

ROCK SUITS

wait

ELEMENTAL FASHION

oh this is going to be haybending all over again.

They are totally going to have to nerf this girl. She could defeat the Fire Lord right now.

Earth beats water tribe

Someome who knows more about tea than I do: Why are both pots necessary?

"requires peace of mind" well that's out. Sorry Zuko, we'll have to get you a taser instead.

"So we're drinking tea to calm down?" "not it's to get the nasty ass taste of the sludge you brewed out of my mouth. I mean yes." For what's looking like an extended training montage, this episode is far funnier than it needs to be.

I pretty much don't notice Zuko's scar anymore (it's just part of his character design) then every so often a certain frame of animation will come out of the blue and remind me that this kid's missing half his face. I don't know if it's intentional on the part of the animators, but his scar is prominent this episode.

So it sounds like bending lightning actually corresponds with how lightning in our world works. Neat.

In an absolutely Shocking turn of events (pun absolutely intended), Zuko fucks it up. Fucking shit up: the autobiography of a Fire Prince. Has a nice ring to it.

Toph I know you go hard, but maybe apply a sense of proportion to this?

It kind of looks like Aang's about to be run over by a giant scoop of caramel ice cream.

Toph is such an interesting mishmash of bluntness and emotional intelligence. I don't think I've seen a character like that before.

Zuko being self aware for once! Everything always does explode in his face. Except when he's being the Blue Spirit. Seems he's more capable then.

It's a tragedy that this boy wasn't around for the emo movement. He would have single-handedly sustained Hot Topic.

Zuko going "WHAT TURMOIL?!?!?" is like Katara going "I'M COMPLETELY CALM!!!!!" last episode. Also got a laugh out of me.

"I'm as proud as ever." OF WHAT?!?!? What could he possibly be proud of? He's a homeless fugitive with a stolen horse bird and a half-dead uncle that he can't even properly brew tea for. The self-delusion is strong.

Is pride the source of shame? Honest question, I don't know.

There's a surprising variety of trees in this part of the Earth Kingdom. Where Zuko and Iroh are there are fluffly hardwoods, probably deciduous; Toph's training ground is ringed by cartoon pines.

This whole bit is too cute for words.

"Now come back boomerang" This is a training episode, it's not supposed to be this funny!

Are there voice acting awards? Like voice acting oscars? Sokka's actor needs one. Or several.

I should have waited to answer the ask about airbenders and just copy pasted Iroh's speech here. Except for the water = change bit. That doesn't make sense.

What can I possibly say about Iroh's speech? It's the thesis for this show in a single paragraph.

Pretty.

Are characters' eyes a different shape this episode? Aang's eyes change colour all the time, but everyone's eyes seem more cat-like.

I do love me some constructive bullying.

Sokka is so refreshingly self-aware while still totally oblivious. He is meat and sarcasm, but he's so much more!

"Have you got any meat?" He said that in an Irish accent.

"You're gonna pull my fingers off and I don't think the rest of me is coming!" Do you ever come across a sentence that is so obviously an innuendo that your brain trips over itself trying to decipher it?

Sokka's hair must be so fluffy. It's got so much volume.

Why can't he go get Toph? I think being stuck in a hole outranks avoiding an awkward encounter.

FOO FOO CUDDLYPOOPS

"You must not let the lightning pass through your heart, or the damage could be deadly." Foreshadowing?

Today in 'things Zuko thinks it's acceptable, nay, expected, for parental figures to do' - attempted murder as a teaching method! What went on in that palace?

Is this the closest Sokka's come to dying?

He's earthbending the air! Doing air but earthlike. You know what I mean.

I thought she was levitating.

Toph is so smart. She does the airbender thing and comes at the problem from a different angle. Telling Aang to stand up for himself doesn't work? Fine. Let's bully him into standing up for himself. And it works!

This episode's MVP is Sokka's patience.

"You tried the positive reinforcement, didn't you?" uhhhhh sure!

Appa getting vengeance for Sokka. Nice.

Theatre kids.

I wish Zuko would just have the breakdown he's obviously hurtling towards so we can get started on the rebuilding arc. Every time I think he's a rock bottom, he keeps digging.

Luten is Katara. Let's not read too far into that one.

Final Thoughts

I defy any episode from this point on to fulfill the Beat Up Sokka Quota as thoroughly as this one did.

In a lesser show, the 'Aang learns earthbending episode' would have had Aang & Toph as the A-plot, and Sokka & Katara doing something completely unrelated as a b-plot, and probably no Zuko at all. Sokka does have his own thing going on this episode, but the fact that they managed to weave in both water tribe siblings so organically is so satisfying. Of course a team member struggling to learn a new skill would seek out his friends. Of course his friends are in the area, observing the lesson to varying degrees. It feels so much more real to have the characters who aren't 'useful' that episode still there, rather than conveniently absent.

Zuko was very Zuko this episode. He's correct that he needs more training for his inevitable next encounter with Zuko jr., but Iroh is also correct that Zuko is a bundle of issues held together by a different bundle of issues. Not to jinx it, but I thought I detected a hint of self-awareness from Zuko this episode, although it seems to have occurred despite his best efforts to suppress it.

Iroh's Zuko-wrangling skills were sharp this episode, despite being injured. And his wisdom was off the charts. Zuko was also not as annoying as I usually find him, and unlike in Zuko Alone where I found his quieter self to be out of character, it fit this episode. Maybe he's turned over a new, quieter, leaf? I loved "she's crazy and she needs to go down" both as a joke and as a statement. Shared blood doesn't trump someone's actions, and I'm glad to see a show meant for kids acknowledge that. Although, given that this show has no problem depicting objectively BAD parents and families, I can't say I'm surprised.

In a testament to Jack de Sena's skill, Sokka get a soliloquy this episode and pulls it off flawlessly. Kudos to the animation team for making Sokka's face fit the words so well. Double kudos for whoever had the balls to approve 'stick Sokka in a hole and put an apex predator on his head to force self-reflection' as a plotline.

There was a lot of exposition from a lot of different characters this episode, but it's mostly unnoticeable. It just makes sense that that's what they would be talking about at that point in time.

I think I said it above, but I'll say it again: the worldbuilding in this show is phenomenally well done. How do I know this? Because I was able to construct most of Iroh's monologue before watching this episode, just by paying attention. This show rewards focus and attentiveness. (Almost) nothing that Iroh said was not something the audience has already observed for themselves. Not heard, but observed. That 'show, don't tell' thing.

This episode was way funnier than it needed to be too. Not just the obvious stuff like *inhales*

FOO FOO CUDDLYPOOPS

but tiny one-liners buried mid-conversation and character interactions too. Momo turning into a reed didn't have to be there, but it was, and it was funny. It wasn't exactly restful, but it was a relief to have an episode that really didn't move around after The Chase.

What I like most about this episode was that it went farther than it had to. This was a training episode. It could have been just training. Anyone familiar with training episodes would expect just training, and be satisfied with just training. But Avatar said 'nope, we'll do better than that' and organically incorporated a heap of character stuff, worldbuilding from multiple perspectives, humour, multiple characters undergoing self-reflection, the next step in the domestication of Zuko, what I'm hoping wasn't a heap of foreshadowing, and pretty backgrounds as the cherry on top. They didn't have to go so hard, but Avatar always goes hard. I like that.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #bitter work

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friskarm · 3 months

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tentatively putting my thoughts into the tag. for context i am an anime-only watcher but i've been really, really enjoying the mage exam arc and i was definitely a little surprised to find out that this arc has a lot of people frustrated!

one of the strengths of this arc, i think, is seeing how frieren interacts with characters and personalities we've not seen her encounter before. fern and stark are both relatively placid as people; they're generally content to go along with what frieren says.

lawine and kanne are two very strong personalities that frieren initially doesn't know how to deal with at all! they have a whole thing going on and frieren's choice is to. not handle it at all. rather, she spends much of her time quietly observing the two of them until she can speak with each of them individually and figure them out, just a bit. she really struggles to get a grasp on the situation until she does that; it's lawine and kanne who are acting first within their team.

then, secondly -- frieren's plan is so. elf with a lot of time to spare. the impact of the time limit is felt so strongly by every human character on the field; everyone is in such a rush! fern's team are stoked they caught a stille so early. the team that attacks them are desperate to steal it asap. after lawine freezes the lake, the other teams are desperately trying to thaw it, for a quick solution.

frieren, though? frieren's solution takes a shitton of time and involves her essentially meditating by a pond for god knows how many hours. it's such a frieren plan; i feel like only someone with a relationship with time like frieren does would come up with it.

tldr; frieren's capacity to form relationships and understand people and her relationship with time are shown off in a really interesting way wrt the way frieren solves the stille problem.

that, and... it seems a bit silly to say this about a show with a certain character in the title but... i do not feel that frieren is exclusively about frieren. it is certainly a story about her adventures but frieren is by no means the only important character! fern is also there! and stark but hes on vacation. so let's talk about fern.

the one fight scene fern has is so unbelieveably crunchy to me bc we learn so much about the world (now) and about the world (part)/frieren's view on magic from it! the girl she fights has really impressive magic; we know that this is generally considered a time of peace, the demon lord is dead, etc. magic is not necessarily a means to an end. i wonder if this means magic has entered a sort of renaissance? a time period after a period of great upheaval, where social structure is thrown out the window and great advances are made in technology, science - and maybe magic!

the way fern uses magic is very indicative of how frieren feels about magic. fern says (that frieren said) that "this is enough to defeat mages of this era", which is so interesting to me bc yes, ofc, fern does win! with her simple magic and full auto fire. but does that automatically mean fern is a better mage? it's complicated...

you hear a lot about the different philosophies of people who use magic in these episodes, and what i'm really interested in seeing is mr war guy meet frieren, bc i think they'd be the most interesting contrast -- a warrior of the past, and a warrior of today.

specifically bc -- frieren is basically a custom-designed warrior. the way she can mask her mana is very specifically designed to be able to weaponised against demons, flamme did that to her very purposefully. the way she's trained fern is also indicative of that; fern's immense firepower and stamina being "enough to defeat mages of this era" without being flashy so to speak indicate, at least to me, that this sort of thing was common in frieren's time! but this is a type of magic very specifically made for battle against a very specific enemy.

no wonder frieren likes collecting weird spells so much... i wonder if she's had much time at all in the past to play around with magic for the sake of anything but fighting and training to fight?

#frieren #sousou no frieren #sorry this was inspired by my friend velteris's good post #this is also probably highly incoherent #i am just a simple anime watcher

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dissentersbedamned · 2 months

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that charlie redesign wanted me to redesign some others so here are some others, i was going to do husk, nifty, and sir pentious but i didnt feel like doing that

are these designs easier to animate? probably not am i claiming to be a better character designer than viziepop? yes

i might do the others but probably not i dont want to be know for this

individual characters and design notes below

i wanted to give her this soft color palette, making her stick out from the rest of hell, like an "angel" in hell

gave her a pink suit like her pilot design

gave her gold accents to give that royalty feel

her hair is now more curly/swirly to giver her a sheep look, along with the ears, kind of like how lucifer is associated with goats charlie has sheep

i also gave her ears to maker her not look like just a human

the darker pink-red color is supposed to contrast with her softer colors but not that much, it's supposed to convey that she is still a demon, the horns were also added to give that feel

bigger cheek makeup (?) and those gold "chains" were added to giver her a circus clown/ring leader look because hell is supposed to be like a circus

gave her tap shoes to convey shes likes music or someshit

darker color to contrast with charlies, a sun and moon thing going on

made her more moth like by making her hair look like moth wings, fuzzy leg warmers, and antennas (are those even antennas do moths even have antennas)

added a silver like color in her design to match with charlies gold

gave back her stocking from her pilot design and made her hand warmers mirror them

wanted to giver her a hot topic employee look

made her more look like she died in 2014 by giving her the red and black stocking + hand warmer, leg warmers, and making her x asymmetrical

her worm out shorts are suppose to give a 2014 feel but also are like that because moths just eat clothes sometimes

gave her the ribbon on her waist to mimic one of her old designs

her red is the same red in charlies pallet, they match +]

made him purple because i think limiting the main colors to each character is nice also because i think purple is a much more lust full color and to look similar to his old design

made him more spider like by adding an extra pair of eyes, fangs, two more legs and a spider butt lol

made him more fluffy and rounder to giver him a more effeminate/gnc look

gave him eyelashes for the same reason above

gave him a scar on the side that he has the golden tooth and different eyes because i think it would be cool is that was from an injury he had when he was alive

the coat was added so that it looks similar to his suit but still different enough so that not everyone is wearing one

the design on his pider butt and coat are suppose to look like a stylized spiders web

the hearts at the end of his heels are suppose to replicate the end of spiders feet

still kept him relatively skinny because i think he would have one of those arcs were a character starts off skinny but gets fatter to show that they're happy with life

still kept his suit because its such an important part to his character tbh and also so he can mirror charlies pink soft light pink suit with his dark dulled down red suit

gave him a tie so he looks more professional compared to charlies cutie bow tie

dulled down his colors so make him see older and stuck in an era

made him looked aged by giving him grey hairs, stubble, and eye bags

made his deer features more obvious by making his antlers bigger, more deer like ears, giving him a nose pike charlie, and giving him hooves

why alastor got socks on in the pool those are his hooves you bitch

actually made him black

still kept him skinny to give off that sickly skinny look

#🚬.dei.art #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel redesign #charlie morningstar #vaggie hazbin hotel #angel dust #alastor #anti vivziepop #viziepop critical #im probably never going to this again dont worry folks #im going to bed #i think hazbin would be better if is was an early 2000s newground flash series

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doppel-doodles · 24 days

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Since everyone is making their own little version of the characters I thought I would join the fun for my Fallen crown Au! These were supposed to be quick little sketches just to get some ideas down but they still took me the whole day:'D will probably change as I draw them but I wanted at least something down on for the time being and I do like how most turned out!

Single versions plus some info and ramblings about each under cut for those interested:

My lamb was mainly based on both, yes the actual player character but also the vibes of my own plathrough which were very "oh god who let this child be in charge?-" while I'll still mostly just call them Lamb I figured they should still have a proper name so I went with my friends @/tamaruaart suggestion as it suits them rather nicely! And most note worthy detail is honestly just the fact that they carry something from each bishops realm on their person now, I like to think they treat those items like little trophies:>

Narinder is probably my weakest I feel like, he definitely needs something to give him some extra "ompf!". I basically made his undertaker fit a sorta reverse or at least loosely inspired by his white robes in game. I imagine he is very boney or a straight up skeleton underneath so he covers it all up beneath heavy fabrics, but because I lack subtly I still covered him in bones regardless-

And yea I kept the veil cause 1. It's a look and 2. It coviently covers up his now sewn shut third eye.

There wasn't much reason behind making him an undertaker, I simply thought it suited him, when your the former god of death you aren't exactly squeamish around corpses. Lastly the dark blues are there to contrast the other followers warm tones, as they kinda seen him as an outcast which is just fine for narinder he isnt exactly thrilled to be here.

I'll put Leshy and Heket together as they were sorta designed as a set.Since they are both youngest among the bishops I sorta latched onto the headcanon that they get along pretty well and just stick together after getting into the cult so they just share a lot of their duties. So I gave them some matching elements like the puffy shorts but also stuff that contrasts like Leshy having looser clothing and Hekets being more tight. Or Heket getting working gloves with a little belt to hold tools plus a hat for the sun, meanwhile Leshy will happily dig through the dirt bare clawed in the sun for hours-

I debated on giving Heket an apron but honestly I think she would only wear one while cooking or tending the farm plots there is no reason for her to wear it casually, the gloves though stay for I reason I utterly love because its PETTY-

Literally the only reason she keeps them on almost constantly is because when the lamb asks she can be like "ew, I'm not touching you with my bare hands." Yes, my humour is broken moving on-

I also gave Leshy a cane just so he actually has something to feel around with when he is areas he isn't too familiar with so he isn't running into crap- on that note, Heket can speak a bit but not exactly loud or for a very long time without seriously hurting her throat, once I properly learn it I definitely wanna draw her using sign language.

Lastly bodies, Leshy was based off a previous drawing I made of him in bishop form, I simply made it less monsterous but he is in charge of chaos so he had to remain a creature- Heket is more straight forward, she is a frog and she is large and in charge.

There was one reason why I made Shamura a tailor and that was the mental image of them sewing the bishops clothes when they were younger and dressing them up all cute.

I went for more pink colors mainly because I thought it better suited the purple and would make their red eyes pop! Honestly I really love their colors they remind me of a Berry! I've drawn shamura before but honestly the only things that stuck were the colors,face and then also the hand markings I did tweak their eyes a bit I wanted something more stern feeling.

For clothing I kept everything nice and loose, while they are the tailor I also love the idea that in their spare time they either teach the youths in the cult or are like the champion of the fighting pit because war is also their domain and they can be- so I wanted them dressed pretty comfy to deal with whatever may come! But still keep everything pretty mature and mildly fancy maybe in the future I'll do some fancy gold and silver embroidery to the pants because of that.

As for body type I wanted them to be pretty thin but unlike Narinder who is twink material under his cloak they have a bit more bulk on top to show that they can choose violence if they so wish-

I adore me some pathetic but still serving men, honestly except for the cross on his belt I completely ignored the fact I made him a medic- If he needs to treat something gross he can throw something over to protect his clothes but just like Heket there is no reason for him to wear that while not working.

Otherwise my main goal was simply to make Kalamar look pretty and fancy. I debated on either short or long bottoms until I realized I'd have to figure out his tentacle situation, then realized I don't hate myself THAT MUCH so bro got put into a floor length gown, work smarter not harder kids.

If I have an excuse to give a character a shawl I will take it so fast.

His body type I mainly wanted to flesh out the roster so I tried making him very squishy and huggable looking, I debated on thinner so he looked more dangly and stretchy but that made him kinda to similar to Narinders build for my liking.

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kitty-av · 4 months

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Hello! I got a new sketchbook and I decided to try it by drawing a Danny with my markers. I might try doing something with gouache too, because I honestly really enjoy the process and the look of painting with it.

I also have some things to ramble about under the line, which isn't strictly dp related, more so me comparing how I work with different mediums and being a little analytical about it, you know, as a treat to my brain because it needs it. •^•

So, to start with the Danny above, it's nothing overly ambitious, I was just vibing, but I think it looks nice. Here's the thing though, it looks weird to me, and the reason, probably, is that the process I use with the previously mentioned gouache doesn't translate well to markers.

Here's the process in question btw, a smol sketch to illustrate the way I work with paint but with markers:

See, that's a process that's clearly a bit more suited to painting imo. So it looks good but a little off with markers. And it's not just to markers. Here's what I mean:

This is digital. With the same process.

It's even weirder than the markers imo, but you can still tell that there's a process going on that's shared.

And the gouache version of this process looks like this: this is my most recent painting ( literally yesterday )

This was done in flat brush, and I think you can clearly see that the process I used across all these paintings started with my gouache work. Which also might be why Danny looks a bit different than them because I had to adjust my process. Rather than starting with colouring my canvas and starting the face with a contrasting colour, both Danny, and as far as I can remember the digital dude, started blank and I had to do the glow effect thing a lot less naturally - especially with the lack of brush strokes. The scratchiness of them is aesthetic. Like, brush stroke and direction is important guys, it adds a lot.

I think if I try to draw this Danny in gouache and explain my process better this would all make sense, but I haven't had the time to get back into art because of uni, and I rather like to. I especially want to try doing digital art again, but I've been doing it so rarely that I haven't really got a process anymore, so I'm a bit intimidated to do anything but portraits.

In any case, if anybody has good Sai brushes that could help me get that painterly vibe there, I'd be very grateful •^•

I want to start drawing and creating things for the Phandom again, but all I have currently are sketches, which I know aren't traditionally the easiest things to interact with visually, especially without colour. Still, I'm just going to share things I make and vibe, I suppose.

I have some interesting designs I'd like to try to make digitally, like that mermaid lady ghost from a while back, and her sister who I decided was Pariah Dark's fabulous ex. Still not sure on Queen's design, but I just want to draw a regal lady.

Yes, I am dumping previous designs here so I can share them again, partly to remind myself of them without scrolling back my Tumblr for a thousand years.

Also my Bois, the clones, who I still want to write into a story and don't know how, but like - I love them and want to show them to more people.

Well, that's all for now. Hope you all have a good day. •^•>💚💜💚

#danny phantom #dp fanart #dp art #phanart #danny phantom art #ft.my art rambles #and also my other art because i went crazy thinking about #the difference medium can have on an artist's process #like legit #my guys #try it #if you're an artist try this experiment #use the process you have on digital with trad and vice versa

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whatsnewalycat · 11 months

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Designated Person | Chapter 7

Pairing: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Chapter 7: Dirty Laundry

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 7.5k+

Content / Warnings: Reader POV, infidelity, past romantic & sexual relationship and related flashbacks, angst, food, AA meeting mention, alcoholism, lying, conflict avoidance, crying, female masturbation, unprotected piv sex, send nudes pls, hold the moan/secret sex, text message chains, movies, fluff, awkwardness, praise kink, daddy kink

Notes: I don't really have any notes! Just excited to share, I hope you like it.

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The first time you wake comes a result of Frankie clomping around the house as he gets ready.

It used to annoy you, how loud he can be in the mornings. But you’ve come to find it kind of comforting. Each cupboard slam and heavy footfall serves as a reminder that you’re not alone. That you’re safe.

You stay cocooned in your sheets while he goes about his noisy routine, eyes closed, cradled in that warm, fuzzy space between awake and not. Content.

When he leaves, a high-contrast silence takes his place. The slow rhythm of your automatic breathing lulls you back to sleep.

You’re surprised when your eyes flutter open at 10:34 AM.

Thanks to your opaque curtains, the room is drenched in darkness, despite the daylight trying to sneak in through the cracks. You squint into the brightness of your phone screen and read the text messages that came in while you were sleeping, all about a half an hour apart starting at 7:00.

> RORY: > Good morning beautiful > How are you today? > I get off work at 3 today, wanna do something? > I miss you

“Oh my god dude, chill out,” you scoff under your breath while typing a reply.

< ME: < Sorry, just woke up. < Yes! I’m cleaning today but that’s all I have planned. What’re you thinking?

He reads and responds immediately.

> RORY: > We can check out that trail by the lake? Grab a bite to eat afterwards?

< ME: < Sure

> RORY: > Pick you up at 3:30?

< ME: < See you then 😘

You toss the phone aside and sit up, scrubbing your hands over your face. Your eyes burn when you grind your fists into them and welcome a big yawn that stretches your lungs’ limits. A spasm catches your breath, shoving out a fit of coughs that leave you a little winded.

Yeah, go on a hike today, that will be fucking fun.

When you tiptoe through the kitchen, you find the coffee pot still on from when Frankie ran it this morning. Your nose wrinkles at its contents. The stale brew will be muddy and unsatisfying, but you pour it into a mug with some half & half anyway.

You settle into your spot on the old couch in your living room and pull the notebook out from under your arm. Between sips of terrible coffee, you jot down the nighttime thoughts still floating around your head.

Hard time falling asleep. Kept thinking about puppies, thinking I should have adopted that dog last year. Regret. No nightmares I think. Woke up at 10:30, feel tired still. Don’t want to go on a hike with Rory, but I am an idiot who can’t say no to people. I would rather stay home and be alone. I want it to be

You pause here, staring at the passage.

A jolt skitters across your ribcage. Blood rushes to your face. You glance around self-consciously, then cross out the last two and a half sentences. A few moments go by before you decide it doesn’t seem like enough, so you cross it out again and again, scraping dark lines into the notebook paper until the sentiment beneath is unrecognizable.

Then you drop the ballpoint of your pen a few lines below the redaction and start writing out your to-do list for the day.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you mutter to yourself.

Frankie’s damp clothes stick to the circumference of your washer’s stainless steel drum. The rank scent that emanates from the machine reminds you of your grandparents’ house in the summer.

With a sigh, you empty your dirty laundry on the floor of the mudroom and pull his clean clothes from the dryer into your basket, replacing them with the damps, then replacing those with your dirties. En route to his bedroom, with your laundry basket propped on one hip, you text him.

< ME: < I stg you leave your clothes in the washer dryer on purpose so I’ll fold them

He must be on his lunch break, because he texts back right away.

> FRANKIE: > I would never 😉

The door opens with a creak when you step through the threshold, dropping your basket on the floor next to his bed. You take a selfie from the middle of the room and send it to him along with your response.

< ME: < K well I’m gonna lick all your stuff after putting away your clothes

> FRANKIE: > Promise?

< ME: < Shut up lol

> FRANKIE: > You look cute btw

Heat floods your cheeks. A smile spreads across your face as you fall back into his bed. The musk woven between the threading of his sheets tugs at you. Your skin tingles with want, and you find yourself pulling the covers over your body and burying your face in his pillow.

The phone buzzes beside you.

> FRANKIE: > Feel free to take a nap or do whatever you want in there

You sit up and whip your head around, then text back.

< ME: < Are you watching me

> FRANKIE: > Are you in my bed?

< ME: < … what if I was?

> FRANKIE: > I wouldn’t mind one bit > What are you doing in there?

< ME: < It’s comfy, I’m laying down

> FRANKIE: > Can I see?

Your stomach flips. The warmth in your face spreads, sprouting up all over your body. You lick your lips and smirk, then open the camera and take a picture of yourself and send it to him.

> FRANKIE: > Wow 😍 > I’m going back to work. See you later tonight, sweetheart

You start and erase about five variations of a response before just locking your phone screen and slamming it down at your side. Your hands fly to your face. All your organs melt and pool hot between your thighs.

Fuck, you hate that he can make you feel like this.

… but you love it, too.

It’s intoxicating.

You know him well enough to know that, throughout his day, whether he’s tinkering around in some commercial airplane, or running diagnostic tests, or chatting with coworkers, he will be thinking about you. Wondering what you’re doing. Hoping that when he arrives home there will be a spot in his sheets marked unmistakably yours.

He always held a particular fascination with you touching yourself, a fact proven true last week when he got off watching you masturbate.

The memory pricks your skin. Your squeaky mattress. The exchange of gasps and whimpers and moans. His lust-blown eyes, all wild and black as they watched you.

Even before that, though.

When you were working for him, he would sometimes text you specific locations in his house, asking you to masturbate there, send him pictures, and leave your panties. Of course, you were happy to oblige.

There were a few times when he had you choose a place to fuck yourself. You gave him three clues, and if he guessed the location correctly, that’s where he would fuck you when he got home.

One Saturday night, you were watching Sarah while he and Angie went out on a date. He texted you exactly one minute after Sarah’s bedtime.

> FRANKIE: > Baby in bed?

< ME: < Yeah

> FRANKIE: > Good > Can you do something for me?

< ME: < Maybe, what?

> FRANKIE: > Go in my upstairs bathroom and take off that pretty dress > Film yourself getting off in the mirror > Then send it to me

< ME: < Where are your manners sir

> FRANKIE: > Pretty please 😘

So you did. You tiptoed into the bathroom and pulled your dress off over your head, which is all the effort it took to strip down to a red thong. You stood in front of the huge vanity mirror and pressed record.

When they came home, Frankie ushered an extremely inebriated Angie to their bedroom. He emerged a few minutes later and coaxed you into the bathroom. Between heated, whiskey-soaked kisses, he told you, “We have to be quiet.”

You nodded and raked your fingers through his hair, responding to his urgent mouth with your own. He locked the bathroom door and dug his phone from his pocket, propping it up on the bathroom counter before he pressed play.

You pulled your dress off, watching his reflection in the vanity mirror for telltale signs of him being shitfaced. A stumble or slur. Compared to other nights where he spent hours at the bar, he seemed fine, which was a relief.

From his phone, you heard your own whimper. You looked down and watched the past you, video you, flick your wrist beneath the cover of your underwear.

His belt clanked as he undid his pants, pulling your attention back to his reflection. You met his eyes through the mirror and watched the darkness in them churn. He slid your thong aside, head of his cock nudging against your entrance.

A rasp tickled your ear, “Look at you, the dirty little movie you made me—what were you thinking about?”

Your gaze dropped to the video. To video you grabbing your tits and biting your lips. He plunged forward, splitting you open, pulling a gasp from your lips, “Ffffuck—”

“Thinking about fuck?”

He started to roll his hips, driving his cock into you, slow and deep. Pleasure rippled up your spine. Video you slid your thong off and showed the camera your pussy.

Your lips parted to answer his question, but the words caught in your throat. It felt so wrong to tell him. He grabbed your shoulder and pulled your body against his, snapping his hips, pumping into you with sharp, hard movements.

“Holy fuck, Frankie—”

“Tell me what you were thinking about when you were playing with your pussy.”

“This,” you breathed, arching your back into his thrusts, each one a heatwave across your body, “You fucking me—trying to be quiet—trying to be a good girl—”

“You’re doing so fucking good, baby,” he purred, “Can’t get enough of this sweet pussy—drives me fucking crazy, Jesus Christ.”

Little whimpers and gasps started wriggling up your throat. Your eyebrows threaded together and lips parted with a croaked, “Frankie—”

“Fuck yes, baby, take it,” he hissed through gritted teeth, fucking you harder, faster, repeating under his ragged breath, “Take it, take it, take it.”

His cock rubbed along all the right parts of you, sending your pulse racing, adrenaline spiking when you remembered Angie asleep in the other room while he was there with you, dark gaze flicking between your video playing on his phone and your body bouncing off of him.

Your whimpers morphed into moans, immediately muffled by his warm, rough palm.

“Gotta be fucking quiet, sweetheart,” he panted in your ear, “I know it’s hard but you gotta do that for me, ok? Can you be a good girl for me, be quiet?”

You nodded. Calmed your moans into frenzied breaths. Lowered your gaze to the phone screen, where video you sank two fingers into your cunt and moaned, fucking yourself, just for him.

“That’s it,” he panted, wrapping his arms around your torso to hold you in place as he fucked up into you, hot breath heating the crook of your neck, “Fuck, that’s it, such a good girl for daddy, hmm?”

You couldn’t help the choked moan that escaped you.

“Say it, say you’re such a good girl for daddy—”

“I’m such—such a good girl for daddy.”

“Fuuuuck yes,” he groaned, one hand finding your clit, drawing frantic circles that flooded your body with a gooey, electric, pulsing energy, “Pussy so tight, feels so fucking good, fuck—”

“Oh my god,” you gasped, pushing against his thrusts, nodding your head, “Daddy I’m gonna fucking cum—”

“Holy fuck—that’s it, sweet girl, cum on daddy’s dick, you can do it.”

You lost yourself, forgetting all about the concession to be quiet—whining and moaning as your bodies slid together with this sick, wet, sucking noise—consumed by the throbbing fire at your center, amplified with each snap of his hips, with his dirty little praises whispered in your ear, cock filling you again and again until you couldn’t fucking handle it anymore and your pleasure reached a fever pitch.

Frankie released a deep, guttural moan as you clenched down, pussy fluttering around his length, white hot static vibrating across your body.

He plunged into you once, twice, three more times with a shudder, spilling inside you.

“Holy shit,” you panted, collapsing forward onto the bathroom counter. His grip softened and he went slack against your back. A few blissful moments went by like this before the spell broke.

“God, I wish you could stay,” he told you in a breathy murmur, pressing a kiss into your bare shoulder, “Wish I could wake up with you.”

And it sounded sweet on the surface, but you knew it was your cue to leave.

You think about it now.

About Frankie, and the video that you sent him while he was on a date with his wife. How she was under the same roof when the two of you fucked in the bathroom. How he had you call him daddy, and how you were such a good girl for him.

You think about how it is between you now, how good it would feel to give in to those reckless desires and fuck like you used to.

Your touch trails down between your legs as you imagine him here in the bed with you, cooing filthy things in your ear, rubbing your clit, laying heated kisses on your neck.

You grab your breast and pretend it’s him squeezing your flesh. Imagine his soft lips around your nipple, the roll of his tongue against it.

“Fuck,” you breathe, rolling your hips into your hand.

A whimper bubbles through your lips and the brazenness of it stokes your insides. Another whimper, this one louder. Tingles shoot up your middle.

You drag your fingers along your slit, moaning at the puddle of arousal pooling at your entrance, spreading it, coating your pussy in the slick substance.

“So fucking wet,” you gasp, gripping your tit harder, imagining Frankie there, touching you, watching you with awe, telling you how fucking good you’re doing.

Your fingers move faster, sliding easy against your lubricated nub, and you release a throaty moan, “So fucking good, daddy, you make me feel so good.“

The words out loud jolt your insides. You think: What if he saw me like this? What if he heard me? What if he knew I still fantasize about him?

A burst of feral energy overtakes you and you crawl up onto your knees, pulling your loose cotton shorts and underwear aside so your cunt is exposed to the room. You work one hand hard and fast against your clit. The other sinks two fingers inside you.

You roll your hips, fucking your hand, moaning out, “Fuck yes, Frankie, fuck me just like that, so fucking good, daddy, you’re gonna make me cum—”

Uttering the words out loud electrifies you. Heat churns beneath your touch, growing brighter and hotter as your wanton moans hit his bedroom ceiling. Pleasure starts to swell and your movements grow frantic, desperate, chasing that feeling as you whine, “Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—”

You convulse around your fingers and gasp, twitchy prods of pleasure gushing at your center each time your slick fingers graze your clit, slowing as the waves ebb into a fuzzy kind of bliss that occupies your whole body.

You fall back in his bed, chest heaving, and try to gain your bearings.

Shame starts to creep at the edges of your post-orgasm fog. Without prompting, your brain tells you: I hate myself.

It stings.

You gulp and shake your head, whispering out loud, “I love myself.”

The correction soothes your hindbrain’s outlash enough for you to release a content sigh. A smile creeps across your face. You blink over at Frankie’s dresser, then rise to your feet and start folding his clean clothes.

As you tuck the folded clothes away in his dresser drawers, you find the underwear he snatched from your bedroom last week. Teal lace, all stiff with his dried cum.

You chuckle to yourself and shake your head. That familiar, reckless kind of satisfaction spreads through your veins.

It’s fucked up, but the thought of him getting off on the scent of you fills you with pride.

This is rocky territory. More than rocky, honestly. It’s dangling-off-a-cliffside-while-your-grip-is-slipping territory.

You both know it. It’s like neither of you can help it. Over and over, you fall back together like opposite poles of a magnet.

Are you drawn to each other because there’s something real? Or is it because of the thrill?

You remind yourself that there is something more between you and Frankie than sexual desire.

You laugh together, support each other, and enjoy your shared time. The bond you’ve formed is genuine. He has come to be one of your best friends. Second only to your sister, Leah.

There’s a softness when you’re with him, too. A saccharine kind of intimacy that curls around your body and makes you feel at home. It has always existed between you, even if he never admits it. He used to push it away, but more and more, it’s become commonplace when you’re together.

You swallow hard and shake your head, finding that you’re still staring at these cum-encrusted panties. You know Frankie won’t be able to bring himself to throw them in with the rest of his laundry. That would mean washing your scent, throwing your gift away.

A little flint of arousal sparks at the base of your spine.

After dropping the teal lace into your laundry basket, you shimmy your shorts and underwear down your legs, then wipe yourself off with the gusset of your floral cheeky bikini. You shove them into his dresser drawer in place of the spent pair.

Two flimsy cardboard boats slide out onto the "PICK-UP HERE” window’s ledge. A booming voice follows, “Order number 32!”

Rory glances down at his receipt, then tucks it in his pocket as he steps through the crowd of hungry onlookers and approaches the rusted-out food truck. He returns holding one basket in each hand, a victorious smile dawning on his face, “Where should we sit?”

You squint around your surroundings and spot a shaded patch of grass beneath the gnarled trunk of a buttonwood tree, then point to it, “Ooh, over here!”

“Got it!”

Rory jogs ahead and lands on the grass before anyone else can claim the spot. You catch up a few seconds later and sit down next to him, crossing your legs. He hands you your shrimp tacos and you murmur a thanks to him while balancing the basket on your knee.

Under the eaves of the buttonwood tree, you find relief from the unrelenting sun. Your skin, all heated and gleaming with sweat, thanks you profusely. The cool earth somehow feels icy against your palms when you lean back and stretch out. You pull your sunglasses up on your head and tilt back to look up through the twisted branches of the tree, “Fuck, it’s hot out.”

You’re never really sure how to start conversations with him.

“Yeah,” he follows your gaze up into the tree, quickly losing interest. A deep breath expands his lungs as he looks around the park, finally settling his gaze on a playground, “You ever take the kids you babysit out here to play?”

Your nose wrinkles a bit when he calls you a babysitter. You follow his line of sight to and watch hordes of squealing, laughing children crawl all over the playground.

“Not this park, but I take them to the one by their house. It has a splash pad and this playground with water features. They love it, it’s pretty cool.”

He nods.

“When I worked for Frankie and his wife, I took their daughter, Sarah, here a lot. She was still just a little squish, but, you know, there are all these trails with cool trees and there’s the lake, and another playground further down that-a-way.”

You point to your left. He doesn’t seem to care much about what you’re saying, but asks, “Is that a job you see yourself having long-term?”

It’s a question you’re familiar with answering. Always tainted with judgment, insinuating that your job is that of bored teenagers trying to make a buck over the summer.

“Yep,” you tell him with a close-lipped smile, tilting your head as you wait for him to say more.

“How will that work when you have kids? Do you want to be a stay-at-home mom, or will you bring the kid with you, or what?”

With a shrug, you tell him, “Figure I’ll see where I’m at when the time comes and go from there.”

Rory hums and nods, brow furrowing at the ground like he’s soaking this in, then he says, “It’s nice that you do that. I like that you’re a caretaker.”

It takes you by surprise. His gaze meets yours and you smile at each other for a moment.

“Thanks,” you say and bring your attention to the boat of shrimp tacos resting on your knee, finding them cooled down enough to eat.

After finishing your food, you and Rory start off towards his vehicle, hand-in-hand. The trail winds by the playground you were watching from afar. Like playgrounds often are, it’s total chaos. Children screaming, running, climbing, crying.

You spot one little girl sitting in the sand, digging a hole between her splayed legs. She seems oblivious to the world around her. The dark ringlets dangling around her cherub face wiggle as she talks to herself, eyebrows raising expressively like the one-sided conversation is intensely interesting.

She must feel you watching her, because her spine straightens and she looks around. When her dark brown eyes meet yours, her face lights up in recognition, and she squeals your name.

You stop in your tracks and can’t restrain the wide smile from spreading across your lips, “Sarah!”

Aside from the brief glimpse you caught of her the day Frankie moved in, and the grocery store shortly after, you haven’t seen her in over a year. She’s grown so much. Her chunky, wobbly baby legs have elongated and grown more capable, allowing her to run towards you, arms outstretched.

When she reaches you, you scoop her up, twirling her around as you give her a big hug, “How are you, sweetheart? I missed you!”

Sarah squeals with delight and says, “Missed you!”

A cool rush of panic spreads across your skin when you look around and ask, “Where are your parents, sweetie?”

“I’m digging a hole!”

“Oh wow, you’re digging a hole?” you laugh and shift her onto your hip as you continue to study the sea of faces, ears growing hot when you remember Rory standing behind you. The last time you saw Angie, she insulted you in broad daylight. How the fuck would you explain that to Rory if it happens again?

“Hey!”

The familiar voice is sharp with outrage. Frankie’s hand grips your shoulder and spins you around to face him. His chest is heaving, jaw clenched, eyes aflame with fury.

You have never seen him like this.

Your eyes widen and you hold your palm up to him, “Just me, sorry!”

He studies your face, still red-hot anger, then it seems to come into focus for him. His shoulders relax with a relieved exhale, then his features soften and grow apologetic, “Oh, hey.”

You bring your hand back to your hip to support the weight of Sarah and chuckle, “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to scare you—”

“No, no, it’s ok.”

“We were just walking, and, umm,” you gesture back at Rory, trailing off when you see Angie approaching, arms crossed, beautiful face squared off in a stern expression.

Frankie’s gaze flicks to Rory and he gives a nod of recognition before returning his attention to Sarah, “Did you see your friend and go to say hi?”

Sarah smiles sweetly and nods, then starts wiggling to be put down. You grant the request, lowering her to the ground and letting her go. She gallops back to her hole in the sand, while you call behind her and wave, “Bye, Sarah!”

Your face scrunches up into a wince when you meet Frankie’s eyes again, and you shrug, “Sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it,” he waves you off with a smirk.

“Hey,” Angie greets, surprisingly calm. Her fingers curl around Frankie’s bicep and she blinks at you.

“Hi, Angie,” you give a nervous nod, plastering on a smile that’s too eager, “I was just passing by with my, um,” you swallow hard and turn to Rory, waving him forward, “My boyfriend, Rory.”

Your voice is shaky. This is a nightmare.

Rory’s arm wraps around your waist from the side and he gives a polite wave, “Hi.”

“This is Angie Morales, Frankie’s wife,” you tell him.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Rory smiles and extends a hand to her. Angie says nothing, just shakes his hand while wearing this Mona Lisa smile and steps back beside her husband.

The silence that follows is painful.

“Ok, well, sorry again for the scare,” you sigh, looking down at your feet, “It was really nice to see Sarah, I miss her a lot.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Frankie says, and you look up to see his brow knit together, dark eyes all apologetic, “I’ll see you at home, yeah?”

You nod at the ground, then tell Angie, “Good to see you.”

She raises an eyebrow and laughs at this. It feels like a slap. You suppose it’s better than her screaming insults at you, though. Or, like, a real slap.

When you turn and walk away, Rory’s hand finds yours again. His grip is warm and steady, and he frowns over at you, “You ok?”

You forgot to adjust your face. The pain bubbling up inside you must be obvious. Traitorous tears spring to your eyes, thankfully hidden behind the dark of your sunglasses. You clear your throat and nod, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

It sounds watery and false.

“Hey,” he stops walking to turn towards you, “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head and sniffle, “Nothing, I’m fine.”

He raises his eyebrows, searching your face, “Really?”

Your teeth catch your tongue. Dull pain wells up in each section of the soft muscle you clamp down on, providing a microscopic release. With a deep breath, you look down at your feet and shrug, “I just—I guess I missed her more than I realized.”

“Come here,” Rory murmurs, ushering you into a hug. You oblige. His body seems to awkwardly wrap around you, but it brings you a small dose of comfort. Even if he doesn’t feel or smell like home.

“What’s the deal with his wife, why did she seem mad?”

Fuck. You were hoping he wouldn’t notice, or ask.

“She, um… she thinks I stole something from her,” you tell him, “That’s why I don’t work for them anymore.”

Misleading, sure, but not entirely a lie.

He hums, rubbing your back, “You care about her a lot, huh? The little girl?”

“Yeah,” you croak. A few tears spring from your eyes. You squeeze your eyelids shut and wish them away.

Rory kisses your hair and gives you a tight squeeze, “Should we keep going?”

You sniffle and pull back from his embrace, flashing him a tight smile as you nod, “Yeah.”

When Frankie comes home, you’ve already resigned to your room for the night, content to wallow in self-pity you have no right to feel.

His footsteps creak against the floorboards as he makes his way through the kitchen, into the hallway outside your room. A knock comes at the door.

You sigh and pout to yourself, then call out, “Come in.”

Frankie opens the door and hovers in the threshold. You pause Stardew Valley and look over from your laptop, raising your eyebrows in question.

“Hey,” he says, puppy dog eyes in full force, crossing his arms, “How’s it going?”

“Oh, you know.”

He hums and studies you for a moment, shifting his weight into the doorframe, “Earlier was… It was weird, right?”

Your eyelids flutter. You shrug, “She didn’t call me a slut this time, which was… nice.”

He chuckles at this. You don’t crack a smile.

When your lack of amusement registers to him, he clears his throat and pushes off of the door frame. He makes his way around the bed and sits down on the opposite side, scooting close to you. You roll your head on your shoulders and watch him reach out to touch you, then decide against it, fingertips curling onto his lap instead.

“Look, I’m really sorry,” he says finally, but doesn’t look at you.

“For what?”

“I know you miss Sarah. And I know my reaction earlier was—was,” he sighs and shakes his head, “It wasn’t great.”

“Frankie, you thought I was a abducting your child—”

“I mean after that,” he turns to you now, sincerity etched in his features, “I could have let you hang out with her, or been nicer or something, I don’t know. I just—I know, in my gut, that I could have done better. And… I’m sorry.”

An ache of affection spreads across your chest. You reach out and rest your hand on his forearm, thumb grazing his skin as you search his face, “I appreciate that, thank you.”

A small, relieved smile graces his lips. He nods, “Of course.”

Then he seems to relax a little, leaning back onto one elbow as he squints at your laptop screen, “Whadda you have going on here?”

“Exploring caves, fighting monsters.”

“Sounds nerdy,” he teases, “Figures you’d like it.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” you laugh and give him a playful shove, “You think I’m a nerd?”

“Maybe,” he grins.

You scoff and shoot him a mock glare, “On what grounds?”

He frowns, looking up at the ceiling like he’s thinking about it, then shrugs, “Basically just this, but you’re cute when you’re all riled up.”

“Wow,” you laugh, covering your face as it heats up, “So rude.”

He grins and lays back in your bed like he’s making himself at home here, so you join him, resting your head on his shoulder. His cheek presses into the crown of your head. You resume playing Stardew Valley.

Some time passes like this, cuddling with him while he idly plays with your hair, asking you questions about the game like he’s interested. When the sun sets and you both start yawning at regular intervals, you tuck the laptop away in your nightstand. Frankie doesn't move.

You return to your pillow and roll on your side to face him, tucking your hands under your cheek. He mirrors the action, just a foot or so away. His warm gaze works around your face and he murmurs, “Do you want me to go?”

It’s so quiet you can hear your pulse pounding through your arteries.

“Not really.”

A small smile flicks across his lips. He looks down at his clothes, “Do—do you mind if I, um…”

“What, you don’t wanna wear jeans to bed?” you snort.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “They’re not great pajamas.”

“Go change, I gotta wash my face and stuff anyway,” you yawn, rolling onto your back, stretching your arms into the air.

The two of you go about your bedtime routines. When you return to your room, Frankie is laying on top of the covers, arm tucked behind his head as he scrolls on his phone. He changed into gray basketball shorts and his old, worn out Metallica t-shirt.

“That shirt is gonna crumble into dust one of these days,” you tease while plugging your phone into its charger.

He sets his phone down and looks at his shirt, then grins up at you, “Until it does, I’ll be wearing it.”

You shake your head at him, peeling back the covers with shaky hands. He sits up and wriggles between your sheets as you turn off your bedside lamp and crawl in beside him.

For a few moments, it’s just quiet in the dark. Neither of you move or say anything. You imagine he’s staring at the ceiling with tingling nerves just like you, filled with uncertainty and fear and want. Not sure what the “line” even looks like anymore because it’s been blurred so much it’s indistinguishable.

Every other time you’ve fallen asleep together since he moved in, it could be chalked up as either accidental or, like when you were sick, necessary. Excusable if brought forth as evidence by others, or each other, or yourselves.

But this is different.

It’s intentional. No plausible deniability in sight. Heat blooms in your chest and between your legs. He feels so far away.

“Frankie.”

“Hmm?”

“Would it be weird if I asked you to hold me?”

He lets out an amused scoff. The bed squeaks and shifts as he rolls on his side as you scoot closer to each other. His hands find you under the covers and he pulls your back to his chest, tucking one arm under your head while the other wraps around your belly.

“It’s not weird,” he murmurs, pausing for a second before saying, “It should be, but it isn’t.”

This makes you smile. It’s a relief to hear him say it. You relax into his embrace and rest your arm atop his at your waist.

The darkness surrounding the two of you seems to hold space for honesty. It’s that sort of feeling you got at sleepovers when you were younger, when you and your friends would whisper secrets to each other in the dark.

“I have nightmares sometimes,” you tell him.

“I know.”

You know he knows. He’s been there to wake you from them and calm you down in their wake at least a dozen times. Regardless, there’s this buzzing under your skin like you need to tell him.

“I can never remember what happens except—except, um,” you blink your eyes open and swallow the thickness in your throat, shaking your head, “There’s this feeling, like… I know that he’s chasing me, and if he catches me, I’m never going to escape.”

His body seems to tense a little. He looks down at you, “Who?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

You can feel the question occupying his tightened muscles, and say, “It’s not you.”

“But if you don’t know—”

“It started before you,” you lace your fingers with his, letting your eyelids drift shut, “And, besides, I don’t feel like that with you. I feel… safe.”

He relaxes around you with a sigh that sounds like relief.

“When I lived alone it was hard. I’d wake up alone and scared, and I couldn’t fall back asleep,” you murmur, “But it’s been better lately.”

He hums. The noise vibrates against the nape of your neck. His thumb brushes against your midriff.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” you admit, “I guess… I just want you to know it’s nice having you here.”

The wet swallow of his throat makes you start to worry you said too much, that you showed too much belly. You brace for him to pull away. But when his voice breaks the silence, it sounds raspy and damp. Heartfelt.

“You don’t think I’m a burden?”

You almost laugh. Not because it’s funny, but because it’s ridiculous.

“Not even a little. I’m happy to have you.”

“I’m happy to be here, mariposa.”

The nickname stings a little. A sharp, precise prick to the center of your chest. But his arms squeeze around you tighter, bringing you closer to his warmth.

Your lips curve into a slight smile and you feel the tug of drowsiness on your limbs.

“No funny business back there tonight, Franklin,” you mumble out, your words fuzzy with fatigue.

“Yes ma’am,” he nuzzles into your hair, his own voice groggy and low, “Best behavior.”

That warm, soft intimacy settles deep in your bones and makes you feel at ease. Safe. Loved. And it’s not long at all before sleep overtakes you.

Your Friday nights used to be synonymous with drinking.

It meant going out to the bar to get drunk and dance and maybe find another lonely soul to spend time with. It meant blackouts and bar tabs and spending your Saturdays absolutely fucking miserable.

Truth be told, you much prefer your new Friday night ritual: Movie Night.

You and Frankie each get to pick any movie you want and stuff your faces while watching them back-to-back. After work, you pick him up from his AA meeting and load up on junk food, then head home.

Tonight, the two of you walk side-by-side down aisle 5 of your neighborhood grocery store, moving at a leisurely pace across the glossy white tiles. A country music station broadcasts softly over the store’s speakers. From the cash registers up front, you hear the rhythmic beep of customers being rung up. Probably the only other people in here, honestly, it’s fucking dead.

“What’s your movie pick?” Frankie asks while tossing a bag of classic potato chips into the red basket hanging from the bend of his elbow, “And I swear to god if you say Moulin Rouge! I’m instituting a no-repeat policy.”

Your laughter ricochets down the aisle and you shake your head, “Don’t act like you don’t like that movie! I know you do.”

“I mean yeah, but… there are other movies.”

“Other… movies…?”

He snorts and shakes his head at you.

“Actually, I wanna watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” you tell him, slowing to narrow your eyes at a bag of salt and vinegar kettle chips, “Do I want pretzels or salt and vinegar chips?”

“Why not both?” he shrugs.

You scrunch your nose up, tossing your head from side-to-side, then grab the kettle chips and drop them into your basket, “What’s your movie pick?”

“I’m between Dazed and Confused and The Wolf of Wall Street,” he says, glancing over at you.

Your face lights up and you coo, “Ohhh Dazed and Confused, please!”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

He grins at you and shrugs, “I will take your opinion into consideration.”

“What, I can’t help you choose?”

“It’s my pick,” Frankie chuckles, “You can’t pick my pick!”

You roll your eyes at him. The two of you round the corner, merging into the vacant main aisle, and you say, “Fuck, I want ice cream.”

“I want a fucking drink,” he mutters offhandedly, then notices your concerned stare and says, “Sorry.”

“Do you really?”

His brow furrows as he considers this, eventually admitting, “In a way, yeah.”

You know you shouldn’t take it personally. He’s an alcoholic. But that rationale doesn’t stop the ache that spreads across your chest.

Frankie must recognize your hurt, because he nudges you and adds, “Not because I don’t like this or anything.”

You give him a warm, reassuring smile as you turn down the freezer aisle. He continues.

“It just lingers, I guess. Like I think I could drink and be fine,” he comes to a stop in front of the ice cream, glancing around before staring forward into the freezer like it holds all the answers, “Everything is just so… raw without it. All the feelings I’ve never dealt with, they keep bubbling up and it’s—I don’t know, it’s a lot.”

It surprises you that he’s talking about this so openly, in a public place and everything. Two months ago you could not have dragged these words from his mouth under any circumstances.

You nod as you study him, “Well, um… I know it’s hard, but I’m glad you’re doing it.”

He doesn’t really react, just continues to look at the ice cream. His eyes are a million miles away, though. Lost in thought. You lay your hand on his shoulder and graze your thumb against him, “Francisco.”

His jaw tightens.

“Hey, look at me.”

He blinks a few times, then swings his gaze to meet yours.

“I mean it. It’s been a pleasure getting to know the real you, in all your, uhhh,” you stop and try to come up with something eloquent, landing on, “sober glory. I know it’s a lot. But I can see that it’s making a huge difference. You’re so far beyond where you started. It’s… it’s really brave to choose sobriety. I’m proud of you, Frankie.”

It all kind of spills out of you. A collage of sentiments you’ve been keeping to yourself thrown crudely together here in the middle of the freezer aisle.

His brow creases, eyes all dewy as they flick around your face. You worry that what you said doesn’t make sense, or that maybe it was insensitive. But then, his basket falls to the floor with a clatter and he pulls you into a hug.

Again, you’re taken by surprise.

You just stand there for a moment, kind of awkward with your basket dangling in one hand.

He squeezes you tighter. Unbridled appreciation flows from him. Your stomach flutters and tears prick your eyes. You drop your basket to properly return the gesture, wrapping both arms around his torso, pulling him close.

The warmth of his body surrounds you. You take a deep breath, inhaling the comforting musk of his skin, exhaling tension, melting into this softness.

Frankie sniffles and kisses the crown of your head, murmuring into your hair, “Thank you.”

You part ways, both taking a step back to see the others’ glossy, red-tinged eyes.

And you’re not sure exactly why, but then you both laugh. Not in a nervous way. More like joy. It bubbles beneath your skin and makes you feel hopeful.

He picks his basket up off the ground and clears his throat, turning back to the freezer door, “Anyway, ice cream.”

When the end credits roll on Dazed and Confused, you stand up off the couch and start towards the kitchen, asking Frankie, “Need anything?”

“I’m good, thanks,” he answers with a yawn.

You pull open the cupboard and find a bag of popcorn, then toss it in the microwave. While you wait for it to pop, you check your phone. Three unread messages.

> RORY: > Hey > How was work? > Doing anything fun tonight?

“Hey, I was thinking,” Frankie says as he shuffles past the dining room table, into the kitchen. You set your phone down on the counter and cross your arms, looking up at him.

“Next week is Sarah’s birthday, Ang is throwing a party on Saturday. Do you want me to see if she would let you come?”

The question leaves you momentarily speechless. You never thought it would be a possibility, and the offer completely blindsides you.

Your mouth gapes open and you blink, “I, um—well, I—”

“If you want to, I mean.”

You frown and meet his eyes, “Well, yeah, obviously I want to, but is Angie really ok with that?”

“I’ll talk to her,” he says, leaning back on the counter next to you, “She’s been more receptive lately. And—and I think if you brought Rory, she would feel more reassured, that, um…”

Your stomach drops like a rock.

A clusterfuck of messy emotions tangle and twist inside your body. At the tip of your tongue sits the question: That, what, there’s nothing going on between us?

You look over at him and search his face. It’s unreadable. He’s frozen like he knows he came dangerously close to mentioning the elephant in the room and doesn’t know what to do next.

The air thickens.

Moments go by that feel like centuries.

You can’t stand it anymore, and lead him to continue the thought, “That what?”

He turns to face you and looks fucking terrified. Forehead creased. Eyes wide. Lips parted like apologies are about to come spilling out of them.

You hold his gaze. Try not to notice the pungent energy pulsing between your bodies, or the way his eyes soften when he looks at your mouth and takes a step towards you.

For one heart-stopping moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.

A beep sounds from the microwave.

He looks to the source, trance broken, but your eyes stay trained on him. On the elongated bob of his throat swallowing nerves. On the restless, twitchy movements that suddenly seem to possess him.

When he notices you’re still staring at him, he only allows a brief glance before dropping his gaze to the ground and shoving his hands in his pockets, finally saying, “I—I just mean that I think she’ll be ok with it. And—and Sarah would be excited to see you.”

You pause before you react, trying to decide whether or not to ask him the question tearing apart your insides like a rabid dog: Do you want me to go so I can see Sarah, or so you can continue to lie to your wife?

Simultaneously, you cannot ask him and you need to know.

You tell yourself: He’s in recovery. He needs support, not criticism.

You say: Let him figure out the missing pieces in his life and put it back together. Even if the shape it takes breaks you.

“Ok,” you give him a tight nod and push off the counter, pulling the microwave door open, “If she’s fine with it, I’d love to go.”

“Yeah?”

You pinch the corner of your bloated popcorn bag and pull it out, nudging the microwave door closed, then turn to face him, but don’t look up, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

A small, distant voice says: You fucking coward.

#designated person #frankie morales #frankie morales angst #frankie morales x ofc #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic

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froggy-demon · 3 months

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Oh, Deer - Part Two

A/N: This is part two to my Alastor x OC slowburn story, I hope you enjoy <3

Chapter Summery: Lilly gets settled at the hotel and a stressful day of work leads her to getting a little closer to one particular staff member.

Part Three

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I woke up to my morning alarm blaring at me, shit I didn’t even think about how long it will take to get from here to work, fucking fantastic. And I have none of my clothes, also fantastic. I book it out the door and head to my old apartment. I grab a book bag I had laying around and stuff as much of my shit in it as I can fit, the less trips back and forth I can make while moving, the better. I change into an outfit for work, a pinstriped mini skirt and a turtleneck blouse with puffy sleeves with my trademark tights and kitten heel Maryjanes, throwing my backpack over my shoulder and getting to work as fast as possible. All in all, I was only 10 minutes late which is a fucking miracle if I’ve ever heard one. I busy myself by checking in with the other assistants and sorting out who is covering what assignments and shows today. Velvette slams open the studio door and is already looking pissed off, the day just started how can it already be going to shit? That question answered itself as behind her trailed in Valentino talking her ear off, switching between whining and yelling.

“Valentino it is time for at least one of us to actually do our jobs, fuck off already and find someone else to bitch to!” She yells at him and stomps off. This pushes him over the edge, he grabs a passing by assistant and snaps her in half, like it’s nothing. I duck my head down and find a way to be very busy and as unnoticeable as possible, hiding behind my clipboard as much as I can.

“No you fuck off Velvette! Tell me what the fuck I can do one more fucking time! Try to run anything once I’m done with you precious shitty studio!” He threw the couch he had trapped that studio aid on just the other day against the wall and it smashed into a hundred pieces. He reached for a fleeing model and ripped her head off, damn and she wasn’t even an annoying model. He rampaged through the room and Velvette just ignored him and stomped my way.

I straightened my back as she approached and tried to not seem bothered by the 10ft lunatic killing my coworkers and ripping apart anything else in his reach. “We are not getting off schedule, get my designers so we can keep our shit on the air! Get them here in the next five minutes while I get fucking Piss Baby out of here.” She Barked and I nodded

“Yes Ma’am.” She seemed pleased enough and walked off to order around anyone else still breathing. I used my ear piece to try to locate the desired designers, keeping my back to the scene behind me.

“Designers, if most of your limbs are still attached, your presence is requited by Ms. Velvette immediately, bring what you have been working on for her and try not to be killed on your way.” I received 4 affirmatives and glanced back to see Velvette on her phone to presumably Vox. Thank Satan, this was definitely a big guns problem. I looked around at a few cowering workers near me and smoothed out my clothes. “C’mon, get this place straightened up. It’s a fucking mess in here, get a broom and a mop, now.” The three jumped up, though a bit reluctantly, and went in search for the cleaning supplies. I saw Velvette manage to force Valentino out the studio door and lock it behind him, hopefully keeping him out. I saw two of the designers come in and waved them over, having them stand up on a small platform that wasn’t totally wrecked and Velvette made her way over.

She was clearly still not happy, but at least wasn’t getting worse. Vox appeared next to her with a cheeky smile plastered onto his plasma face, contrasting her fiery attitude. I thought I saw him give me a small scowl, but I've never spoken to Vox, it couldn't be personal. He asked her where Valentino had gone and was back on his way.

The day continued with far fewer bumps, minus the power outage caused by Vox's tantrum. Valentino stayed away so I guess Vox was able to calm him down well enough and Velvette stayed at a manageable level of pissed off until the outtage.

“Fucking hell! Fine fuck him, everyone go the fuck home!” She screeched and no one was waiting to confirm that order. I grabbed my bag and booked it out of the building and back to the hotel. Alastor’s broadcast was all I could hear people talking about, though they kept it hushed so close to the Vs. Losing was not something they, especially Vox, liked. When I walked through the door I was surprised to find a new face in the parlor. He was a snake demon and Charlie was excitedly chatting with him while Vaggie stood to the side looking apprehensive.

“Here she is!” Charlie exclaimed turning to me, smiling ear to ear. “Lilly! This is Sir. Pentious, he is our next guest at the hotel!” She motioned for us to shake hands, which I obliged. He seemed nervous, but still gave a small smile.

“Ah, Lilly, it isss quite nice to meet another future redemption-ee!” He said and I tried to return his smile.

“Lilly he blew up the hotel this morning.” Angel added dryly, I stopped smiling and looked at Charlie confused. Angel clearly wasn’t buying whatever the serpent was telling Charlie.

“He said he is sorry! That’s what we’re all about, second chances!” She defended and really tried to sell it. I looked between her and Sir. Pentious, a little skeptical myself honestly.

“If you are confident, I will trust your judgement.” I stated and turned to Angel, who filled me in on all of the details on the fight that had taken place that morning while Charlie taught Sir. Pentious how to apologize to Alastor. Geez, you go in for one shift and miss everything!

“Say, Dear, how did my little show go over at Vs HQ?” Alastor asked, appearing behind me and giving me a bit of a fright. He sounded particularly staticy. Angel rolled his eyes at his theatrics. I turned to face the demon and met his glowing eyes for a moment before looking back at Angel.

“I couldn’t say for sure, but I’d say not well. Vox particularly was still glitching and zapping about when Velvette dismissed us after the power shut down. We couldn’t do anything with him fucking up all of the tech.” I said and he laughed, clearly pleased with himself and patted my head. Angel was deeply distracted by his phone, someone was texting him quite a lot, every few seconds his phone would buzz with a new notification.

“Wonderful to hear! I’m glad I got my message across.” His eyes glowed a bit brighter, clearly there was some contempt held for Vox, and it went both ways. Seeing him like that sent a little zap of fear through me. I know what he’s done to those he doesn’t like to get what he wants, but he chooses to be so hands off with it this time? Maybe he just wanted to give a fair warning, I don’t know, but I do not want to get in the middle of it. “Speaking of your work,” He moved to stand between me and Angel now. “Why not find some new employment now that your housing is supplied? Something less television based maybe?” He eyed me, as though he suspected me of something. I tried to look past him to Angel again, but he blocked my vision, seemingly growing a little taller, a little more menacing.

“Well, as much as I’d like to,” I said a tad nervous of the overlord in front of me “I can’t. Velvette owns me, my soul that is. As a day job it isn’t too bad at least.” I mumble the last sentence and Alastor raises an eyebrow at me. Angel is still preoccupied, but I see him throw a look my way when I mention my deal.

“Deals aren’t usually Velvette’s style, she typically prefers to leave that work to the boys, how unfortunate for you then.” He says, returning to his normal chipper self and walks off. As he disappears I finally take stock of myself, I look like shit. There is dried blood on my shoes and spots of guts dotting my outfit for the Valentino’s carnage earlier, gross.

“Angel, I’m going to take a shower and unpack a little you know where to find me if you need anything okay?” He doesn’t look up, clearly in a mood, sitting down on a nearby chair and crossing his legs over the arm and mumbles out an okay. I make my way upstairs, to my room, and then turn on the hot water for the shower attached to my room. After peeling off my clothes it felt good to let the hot water wash over me. The water pressure was better here too. A little refresh is really what I needed after today. Once I felt better I rummaged through my bag until I found my pjs, a pair of little shorts and an oversized t-shirt VTech gave out during some marketing campaign, it was at least comfortable. I started to unpack more and realized Niffty must have been here earlier because there was significantly less dust everywhere and my bed spread seemed freshly laundered. I will have to thank her the next time I see her. Just as I’m finishing up I hear some kind of commotion coming from somewhere in the hotel, what the fuck was that? I poke my head out and hear more noise, like someone is fighting, is that Angel Dust? I run down to the noise and meet Charlie and Vaggie walking up to the same disturbance.

Angel says that Sir. Pentious is working for the Vs, but I can smell the liquor on him from here, and the snake denies the accusation. Angel rolls his eyes and points out the video camera hidden between two books on the shelf, causing Sir. Pentious to panic. He screams into his watch to help him as Vaggie face palms and it's my turn to roll my eyes. Not only is he a spy, he’s an absolutely terrible one at that. I can hear Vox laughing at him though the watch, but Charlie has big doe eyes. He begs for a quick murder, but Charlie welcomes him in with open arms, despite protests from the three of us. After a set of profuse apologies, we head back to bed.

Angel has his arms crossed, the whole walk. I want to say something, but he has been in a bad mood all day and I don’t want to accidentally make it worse. “Angel, y'know I-“ but he waves me off.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Work shit, and we said work shit stays at fucking work.” He snaps, but sighs and I know he isn’t mad at me, just someone else. My guess, Val. I wonder if that’s what Valentino was raging about this morning, I hope for Angel’s sake it’s not. He slams the door to his room and I turn towards mine, just to be greeted by Alastor, he sure does have a knack for popping up.

“Take off your shirt, Dear.” He glares at it, taking me back. This is a tone shift.

“Excuse me?” I ask, taking a step back, not there there is really anywhere to go if you want to run from a shadow walking overlord at night.

“Well, I’m going to burn it and I just figured you would want it off your body before I do that, but if you prefer,” Alaster smirked and lit a small fireball in his hand “you can keep it on!” He was very serious, I look back down at my shirt, I guess I set myself up for this one wearing a shirt with Vox’s face plastered on it, but hey it was a free shirt. I yanked it off and Alastor took two big steps towards me and took it from my hands, his eyes glowed devilishly as he set it on fire and watched Vox’s face burn away while he grinned ear to ear. “Much better! I appreciate your cooperation, however,” he bent down to my height and made me look him in the eyes. His voice grew more staticy as he said “I better not see anything else with his face on it here.”

I nodded, it was all I could manage, I felt frozen in place and suddenly self-conscious as I realized I was in my bra and shorts in front of a murderous overlord, not exactly confidence inspiring for me. He stood back up straight and spun his cane, pleased with himself. “Very well, Goodnight!” He sang and I didn’t wait before quickly going into my room. Great, now I need a new sleep shirt, that will be a tomorrow night problem. I got into bed and curled up. I’m not doing amazing at staying off Alastor’s bad side, maybe tomorrow I will break that streak.

The next morning I joined everyone else in the parlor downstairs, I had some time for once before I was needed at work. Charlie excitedly explained that we were doing some bonding activities as a group today, that it would help if we all trusted and got to know each other. I wanted to check in on Angel, but he was still hung up on his phone. Okay, so I’m going to have to make a second friend, it can’t be that hard can it? What do I have to work with?

Niffty is a little… crazy… maybe not my first choice. Let’s see Sir. Pentious is eager, but do I have anything at all in common with him? Let’s see he likes building things? Nope. He likes being a leader, of his egg boys at least, uh in the right light sometimes you could kinda say I like bossing people around. I think that’s everything I’ve learned about him though, and I’m not really someone who goes out looking for a fight anymore, even if Cherri wants me to. Vaggie is a little too focused on Charlie I think to start worrying about anyone else, I can’t blame her, as sweet as Charlie is she is also a handful. I think Alastor is waiting for me to sneeze wrong to justify breaking my neck and is no where to be seen sooooo… my new friend is going to have to be Husk! The only hard part about that is he doesn’t really ever want to participate in our activities. I can work with that though.

I take a seat next to Husk for activity time and give him a small smile. I haven’t really gotten what his deal is from Angel yet, maybe he just acts tough. “So, Husk, what brings you to the hotel? You don’t really seem like you’re here for redemption to me.” I ask trying to sound cheery. He just rolls his eyes at me though.

“My job.” He huffs out, motioning over to the bar. Okay smartass. I fold my arms and lean forward towards him.

“And out of all the bars in hell, why work at this one? Don’t tell me its for the dental insurance.” I quipped and he almost smiles. He leans back in his chair and looks across the room at nothing in particular.

“Alastor, he tells me to go so I go.” He finally says. Ah, could Alastor really own his soul? I won’t press for now. Satisfied with the answer I sit back in my seat and he slumps down more in his, but then my phone rings. Velvette, why is Velvette calling me? I don’t hear from her that much seeing as I never have a day off anyway, not even extermination days. I hop up out of my seat so not to bother anyone and answer the phone.

“Yes Ma’am?” I answer, stepping out of the room. She shouts that she needs me immediately, one of the models didn’t show up today and now she needs extra hands on deck and I better be there immediately. I try not to let her hear me sigh or sound disappointed. I guess I did get to sleep a couple extra hours which is more than enough to be grateful for. “Yes Ma’am.” I reply and she stresses I better hurry or I’ll be costuming for Valentino’s sets for the next year and she hangs up. I walked back in and the group looks up at me waiting for my explanation. “Okay guys, sorry to cut the team building short, but I’m needed at work sooner than expected, sorry Charlie.” Charlie looked disappointed.

“Oh.. so when do you have a day you don’t work anyway?” She asks. “We’ll just catch you up then!” She beams at her great idea. Angel chuckles, Cherri probably has told him before if he knows my situation.

“I don’t get any days off, sometimes I only work 10 hour days though!” I tried to make that sound like a good thing and gave her a thumbs up, but Charlie frowned again.

“Well that’s not good, you’ll never have any time for our activities then!” She protested and started pacing. “Can’t you just say you need a day off for something important?” She looked at me with those big doe and and I shook my head, crossing my arms.

“Some of us have jobs, dollface, contracts.” Angel points out dryly. He finally looks up from his phone to give Charlie a pointed look. It must be nice to be her.

“There are no days off for me, if Velvette says come in I can’t say no. It’s just the way it is. Now she’s waiting for me, I have to get going.” I slip on my shoes and head for the door leaving a protesting princess behind.

I get there as quickly as possible and as soon as I walk through the door Velvette is tapping her foot waiting for me. She looks as pissed as usual, but it isn’t usually my direct fault that she’s pissed off.

“Now, I happen to know that your apartment is all of five fucking minutes away so how the fuck did that take 25 minutes today?” She demands. Since when has she even known where I live? I straighten my back, I am not used to talking back to her, usually we even work pretty well together. “Well, spit out whatever pathetic excuse you have and get to begging for forgiveness! Some of us have important shit to be doing!” An assistant walked up to her and they quietly conversed while he showed her a different selection of blouses.

“I moved Ma’am.” I stated, adverting my eyes. She snapped her head away from her conversation to look at me again.

“Well who the fuck told you to do something stupid like that? I need you near here for when I call you, fucking move back.” She said it like it doesn’t matter where I live or what I think if it doesn't serve her needs. She might own my soul, but that is not our deal.

“Ma’am, with all the respect in hell, I cannot do that.” I stayed cool, that’s good. She walked over to me, until she was less than a foot away from my face. Her red eyes glowing and piercing into mine.

“The fuck you will. As fucking kind as I am to you every fucking day, whose dick you’re riding just to crash in their shitty bed anyway?” She snapped at me, glaring at me while waiting for my answer.

I took a deep breath. “Charlie Morningstar, Ma’am, well her hotel that is.” I added, looking down. Velvette was seething in front of me. She grabbed me and threw me to the ground. I hit my head hard on the stone floor, because exactly what I need is another head injury.

“Don’t give me that kind of bullshit ever again. Remember who you are speaking to.” She spoke through gritted teeth. She materialized the link between us, the chain attaching me to her, our deal. I knew exactly what I signed, but she was right. I should have held my tongue. She used it to pull me to my feet in front of her. “Now get to fucking work.” She spat and let me go. I stayed on my feet and smoothed my outfit and hair, composing myself for the coming day.

“Yes Ma’am.” I kept my eyes on the floor as she rolled her eyes.

“Good, now get Kelly Killjoy’s suit options ready, it’s almost time for her to be on air, then come back to me.” And then she waved me away and I was happy to be able to walk away. I did as I was ordered, bringing the approved wardrobe to the news host's dressing room for her to pick from once ready. I raced back to the studio room to see what was next and Velvette sneared at me when she saw me. "Perfect, the seamstresses need a pin cushion, go be that until they are done with their projects.” And she turned away from me again. A pin cushion, this was going to be a long day.

Twenty hours later I am still in the studio, but I have finished every task I’ve been given, skillfully I might add. Well, as skillfully as one can be a pin cushion, mannequin mover, and general studio bitch without a single moment to sit or even pee. I was back in front of Velvette awaiting her next order. She looked at me and shook her head.

“Morning, cunt. Your outfit is hideous and you look more terrible than usual.” She said and zapped me into a new outfit, honestly the highlight of my day to have on something fresh, but really it was just a toned down version of her own outfit, but is all grey. Of course she would think her outfit was better. “Now perk the fuck up, I need you to set up the lights for the shoot we’re doing for my fabulous new clothing line today! And set up all the looks we created for it. Make sure those fucking models look right too, I can’t stand shitty sloppy work.” She said and I nodded, hoping it will be easy to learn how to set up studio lights.

“Yes Ma’am.”

After falling off a ladder more than once setting up the lights, organizing all of the set groups of items for the photo shoot, and labeling them, and then adjusting every single item on the models throughout the 10 hour shoot, I was ready to beg for Velvette’s forgiveness. I hadn’t had a drop of rest or caffeine in nearly two full days.

Finally I was told to go home, but to be back tomorrow bright and early with a smile on my face. I don’t know what pissed Velvette off so badly in the first place that she felt the need to take it out on me, but maybe tomorrow will be different, unlikely, but maybe. I walked into the hotel and went straight to the bar, come to think of it that might be one of the best parts about living here. I slumped onto a stool putting my head down on the bar. Husk raised an eyebrow at me while he was organizing his bottles.

“I wasn’t sure if you were coming back when no one saw you last night, where ya been?” He asked, he didn’t sound concerned, but he did sound curious. I picked my head up and propped myself up on my elbows.

“Work. I’ve been at work since I left. Someone pissed off Velvette and that became my personal problem.” I muttered. I took a deep breath, I don’t need to bitch about my shitty day though that won’t have made it any better. No, I wanted a boost, I should go out I want to feel good about myself. I don’t want Velvette to be able to dictate my mood like this.

“My, my, someone looks a little worked over,” Alastor sang as he walked up. “Did someone mistake you for a pin cushion?” He asked lifting my arm to inspect the hundreds of tiny and sore pricks in my skin. I pulled my arm away from him, trying not to humor him.

“Hello to you too, Sir.” I said, holding back my irritation. I look at husk and he poured me a drink, I give him the best smile I could muster when he placed it in front of me. Alastor took the seat next to me, crossing one leg over the other and giving me his signature smile. I took a sip and let the warm feeling wash over me.

“Tell me, is television work loosing its charm? Such superficial work after all, but maybe that’s how you prefer it, dear.” He laughed at his own joke and tapped his cane on the ground. I drank more of the mixed drink Husk had made me, but it didn’t cool me off as much as I needed it too. I gave him another look and he went to pour me another but I looked up at him and motioned to just give me the bottle.

“Aye, take it easy kid.” He said, but still handed it over. I took three big gulps and set it down.

“Alastor, I’m not in the mood for your insults and condescension, I think I’ve had more than enough of those today.” I said dryly and took another drink. He looked at his nails, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, enjoying getting a rise out of me.

“Oh, but I’m positive they haven’t been as witty as mine will be! Humor me won’t you? It’s been so boring today.” He leaned towards me, it was another request that didn’t really sound like a request. I couldn’t push back against Velvette, but I could with Alastor, maybe. I finished the bottle for some confidence and got out of my seat.

"No." I told him flatly, that should have been enough to get him off my back, but not Alastor.

"come now, don't tell me the big bad overlords you've worked for for years just now broke your spirit! Where's your moxie dear?" the demon quipped, leaning an elbow on the bar. I could feel my misplaced anger building, but shit he didn't have to be such a prick when I clearly was in a bad mood. I can't have five fucking minutes of peace?

“I told you, fuck off!” And stomped out the door, throwing aside the now empty bottle.

Fucking Radio Demon, fucking Velvette! I’m more than that, I’m not just someone to shove around. I don’t have to take that, not when I’m not at work. She might be able to give me as much shit as she wants, hell she could actually assign me to fuck ass Valentino’s porno costuming I wouldn’t even care, but I will not go home and have some other demon make me feel like shit too. I’m worth something!

I look up from the sidewalk that I’ve been so concentrated on and realize I don’t really have anywhere to go, I’m tired of bars and clubs, but hell maybe it'll make me feel like a person again anyway. Maybe someone will talk to me like I’m just a fucking person. So at the next neon sign I see advertising a drink I walk in and order and get just that. It doesn’t take long, it never does in hell, until someone starts talking me up, buying me a drink, then another, and another, and then says we should get out of here. He's good looking for a demon, tall and thin with blood red hair and long black horns twisting out of it like a ram's. I agree. I follow him outside and he starts taking me down an odd way, its quiet and dark here, but maybe he lives on a quiet street in hell, what do I know. Then he turns around, smiling, and holding a handgun. It takes a moment to register. He closes the distant between us.

“What are you doing?” I ask, he laughs and grabs my arm. I’m not stable enough to avoid it and he pushes me up against the alleyway wall and points the gun at my chest.

“I’m robbing you, dipshit, cough up whatever you have on you. I know someone dressed as pretty as you has a couple of bucks to spare right?” He sneers and shifts the barrel to under my chin. The only problem was I really didn’t have anything else. I had maybe a single dollar on me after buying that first drink and I don’t think that’s what he wanted to hear.

Then all the sudden he was off of me, I fell a little and caught my breath which I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. What the fuck was that? I looked around and saw a familiar pair of eyes walking out of the darkness, blazing red. Shadow tentacles were holding up the attempted robber as Alastor emerged from the darkness, how is Alastor here? He was taller than his normal stature, and had a sinister smile, antlers protruding from his hair. This is the demon I’d heard on the broadcast those years ago, he had bloodlust in his eyes.

“I don’t think so.” His voice was thick and distorted cutting up the still night, I could feel the energy pouring off of him. I didn’t know if I should stay where I was or get the fuck away from there at this point, but my legs felt too heavy to run very far. I looked up at him with wide eyes, it was like a car accident I didn’t want to watch him rip this demon in half, but I also couldn’t look away. He laughed maniacally as the sinner he held begged for forgiveness and his life. The Radio Demon drew him closer “Is that anyway to treat a lady?” Static filled the air and there was ringing in my ears, it felt like it was pounding in my head to the point that it was difficult to keep looking up. Alastor met my eye for one brief moment and then, unexpectedly, threw the creature across the city rather than ripping him in half. His piercing eyes didn’t change as he began to return to his normal self as he walked toward me having eliminated the threat. The static softened and I felt a weight leave my chest. “Terribly sorry for the fright! Charlie sent me to make sure you came back to the hotel in one piece tonight, I didn’t expect to find you in so much trouble.” He put an arm around me for support, but I shook it off. As uneasy as I felt I’m not sure if he was the one I should take it from.

“I wasn’t expecting any help, especially from you.” It came out as a statement of near disbelief, but I was still angry. Recovering from the personality whiplash Alastor had given me I took a few steps away towards the entrance of the alley. How am I supposed to see that and then trust him? “I can handle myself.” My knees wobbled and I leaned my palm on the wall again for support.

“Clearly.” He said sarcastically and smoothed his hair back where his antlers had disrupted it. “You sure did seemed to have a handle on that one! Next time I’ll just let it run its course, how’s that sound?” He adjusted his tie and grinned. More of his bullshit. I took another step back, I was certainly afraid of the power I’d just witnessed, but looking at him now he was just another demon.

“Whatever, I don’t need to take this bullshit, you can’t just talk to me like that because you’re used to being scary, I get enough of this every other hour of my day. Maybe you can treat Husk however you want because you own his ass, or other people are just too scared to say shit, but I’m exhausted! I’m too tired to bite my tongue and,” I was running out of steam, and those burning red eyes were still bearing into mine “it seems I’ll never get out of that cycle.” I slid down the wall to my side and held my knees to my chest. “I just, I’m tired of filtering myself to fit the situation I’m in. Just to please someone who can’t even tell the difference anyway. Putting up the right front to help maintain her goddamn brand. I can't do it with you too.” I sighed. How disgusting. Here I am shouting at someone who would love to rip my head off my body, just because my boss is shitty and unappreciative, and now I’m pitying myself for it on the ground of a filthy alleyway. This might just be my rock bottom.

Alastor quietly walked to my side and placed a hand on my shoulder, sending a jolt through me. “If it’s any help, I’m condescending to everyone!” It was so stupid, so fucking stupid I had to let out a laugh. Geez, at least it isn’t personal I guess. I ran a hand through my hair, looking at my shoes in the dim light. “What was Charlie’s first lesson? Apologies.” I looked at him funny, his red hair nearly looked all black in this lighting, did he want an apology from me? He’s as crazy as Niffty if he thinks that’s happening. I picked at the ground next to my shoe to occupy myself. “Charlie also wanted me to apologize, I didn’t really mean to offend you. While I do find joy in watching the misery of sinners around me, on the other hand I am here to help Charlie and I can’t do that if I’m sending one of her guests spiraling now can I?” He offered me a hand up and I just stared at it for a second. “I’m sorry, Lilly.” He sounded as sincere as I’d ever heard him, which granted was likely a front to save face anyway, but I pushed my pride aside and took his hand, standing back up. It felt good to get that rant out of my system and it maybe even felt a little good to get an apology. I brushed the grime off of my skirt as best as I could, looking back at Alastor. He looked happy with his pep talk, but he kind of always had that demeanor so it’s hard to say.

“Thank you Alastor.” Was all I managed to say. Pleased, he hooked our arms and pointed us in the direction of the hotel. We were quiet for a minute, I knew it was my turn to say something more, but I couldn’t figure out what was right. I kept dwelling on how he looked back in the alley, how the energy he put off felt all the way down to my bones. Even now it made my skin crawl, I’m quite glad to have made it onto his team I suppose because I would not want to be on the receiving end of that fury. “Why do you want to help Charlie?” I said it as soon as I thought it, but it brought me back to earlier. Husk is here because Alastor is here, but why the hell is Alastor here?

“A good question! It’s really very simple, I think Charlie will succeed and I like to be on the winning team. Plus,” He looked at me with a wicked look in his eyes, “If I’m wrong I’m no worse off and I get to watch everyone else suffer!” And began laughing. Not very comforting, but does make sense. Still I have a feeling Alastor is a few steps ahead in whatever plan he is hatching than he is willing to share. I wonder what else he was working up in his head, he’s difficult to read that’s for sure. The only actual emotions I’m sure he experiences are joy and anger. “If we’re asking intrusive questions now, I must say it’s been plaguing my mind, what exactly do you get out of your deal with Velvette?” He smirked, “Don’t tell me it’s for the dental insurance.” He mocked me, is there anything that happens in that hotel he doesn’t know about?

“You mean besides a boss who won’t fire or fuck me? Well,” I chewed my lip for a moment. I always felt ashamed of my deal, how ironic as I landed myself in hell for the vice of pride in life. “You know it’s not easy starting out down here, one day I met Velvette and she, well she made it look easy.” In life I was the secretary to a man who ran a fashion magazine, I was so enthralled by his work I thought every piece that crossed his desk was genius. I fantasized about what I would design if I was able to. “When Velvette told me what she was doing down here I wanted in, hell a bit of me wanted to be like her, she told me there was only one way I could be on her team, but her success would be my success too and really I didn’t see any other opportunities coming my way. I was naïve and she was happy to take advantage of that. Don’t they all kinda go like that though?” I laughed awkwardly, mentally preparing myself for whatever shitty jab Alastor would make at my expense. He let me stew in it for a minute, or maybe for once he just didn’t know what to say. The sound of my heels rang in my ears as I was aware of his lack of response, buzzing with the city noises happening around us.

“How unfortunate!” He used my arm hooked with his to pull me closer and gave me a sideways smile. “I would have given you a much better deal than that!” And winked at me. I gave a small laugh, right like being his tailor for the rest of my afterlife, how fun. He glared at the window of a TV shop as we passed it, Vox was giving some interview, but it distorted more the longer he looked at it. Just as soon as we had passed it, the screens returned to normal. Another mystery to Alastor. “Don’t worry dear, you aren’t the only soul in hell who has made an unwise deal. I think half the inhabitants of our hotel are in that very same boat with you!” As dumb as it is, it kinda made me feel better that I’m not the only sucker that I know.

We reached the steps of the hotel and he followed me up.

“Well if you need any emergency alterations you know where to find me!” I smiled and opened the door. After all of that I do think Alastor made me feel better, and I still have the entire $1 to my name that I could have lost, or worse.

“Well someone is in a better mood than she was before.” Husk snarked from the bar and I shrugged.

“I didn’t die so I guess I can’t complain too much.” I threw a wink to him and he let out a small chuckle. Alastor cleared his throat to regain my attention, which I gave him, clasping my hands behind my back.

“As happy as I am to have been of service tonight, I must bid you adieu my dear, I have much to do!” He gave my head a pat and made his way up the grand staircase without waiting for a response. I watched him go and disappear down a hallway off to whatever chores awaited him. I let out a well earned yawn and looked back at Husk. Is he always behind the bar? Where does he sleep? When does he sleep? I shook the thoughts from my head and waved him goodnight.

I made my way up to my room but as soon as I drifted off to sleep all that filled my dreams was the image of Alastor in his demon form in the alley, but this time I was his prey. I would focus on his eyes and the intense fear they filled me with, shadow arms raising me higher and higher into the air as he laughed at my pleads for help. His whole body expanded and grew more wicked and disturbingly sharp. One of his claws dragged across my cheek, drawing blood. I woke up in a cold sweat and panting to catch my breath. I went to my bathroom to splash some cool water on my face, but struggled to feel much calmer. It was just a dream, but it was based on real events, even if they didn’t happen quite like that. I decided to throw on a robe and knock on Angel’s door, it was late, but hopefully he would be awake. He opened the door, rubbing his eyes.

“Lilly? What the hell are you doin’ up at this hour?” He asked, one set of arms hugged himself and the other attempted to straighten his hair. I realized how dumb the truth sounded. ‘Oh I had a bad dream and wanted to talk to you’ I couldn’t say that, he would close the door in my face.

I glanced up and down the hallway, surely even Alastor is asleep at this time of night? “I need to tell you about my day, now.” I tried to look very serious, but I was also pretty tired. Angel stepped to the side and let me in, giving me the first proper look of his room. It was very nicely decorated, it looked just like him. Everything was pink and there were little string lights hanging from the wall giving off a soft purple twinkle.

He sat on his bed and patted the spot next to him. “What can’t wait until the mornin’ doll?” I took the seat and crossed my legs in front of me, pulling my robe a little tighter for comfort. “Husk told me you walked out pissed, but nothing else.”

“I just needed to get out. After the last two days of nonstop I just wanted to feel like a person and I didn’t here. Listen, to make a long story short, Alastor showed up to get me out of some hot shit. Apparently Charlie had sent him, but I saw him attack this demon and I, I don’t know I just can’t stop seeing it now. I’ve seen some fucked up shit here, I literally saw my coworkers get torn limb by limb a few days ago, but I don’t know something about how he looked at that demon.” I shivered. “How he looked at me after. It just, it freaked me out a little.” I pulled my legs up to my chest and rested my chin on my knees. Angel rubbed my back to sooth me.

“Ah don’t worry about him too much, you’ve got Charlie’s stamp of ‘Do-Not-Kill’ on yah so he won’t lay a hand on you!” He crossed one set of arms “even if you want him to.” Apparently still making no progress in his flirtations. “Plus, if it’s dreams you’re worried about, maybe you just wish his arms were around you in another way!” He joked and lightly elbowed me in the side. I rolled my eyes at him and smiled.

“Angel if you can’t pull him I’ve got zero luck, plus I am not interested like that. He’s just such a mystery I can't keep him out of my head.” I said, thinking on it I know shockingly few things about him for the amount that he seems to pop up and know things about me.

“Oh baby, the best dick is!” We both giggled and I felt a lot better. I asked him how his day was and he lit up. “Me and Husk got to have some quality time, if you know what I mean!” And he gave a cheesy smile. “We shared a drink is what I actually mean though. I think I’m breaking him down!” He beamed and then told me about how Husk had once been an overlord, until he was too far in the hole with gambling and ended up making a deal with our very own Alastor, confirming what I thought. Once I was caught up on the hotel tea I noticed my eyelids feeling heavy and the idea of getting some more sleep sounded better and better. Angel laughed and pulled the blanket over me and before his head hit the pillow I was out.

Part Three

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x oc #radio demon #slow burn #angel dust

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