#Miz answers asks!

[mizuurei]

i had this random thought like "c!miz couldn't fix c!dream but she could make him act the exact same way he does with c!wilbur" which was immediately followed by "c!miz and c!wilbur... my god. imagine all the hamilton they'd be quoting"

GOD, YOU’RE SO RIGHT

c!Dream- oh god, not another one…

c!Miz, stopping mid introduction- ………what do you mean another?

c!Miz would probably mostly quote the Schuyler sisters (just with a more sinister undertone) and Burr and then immediately square up to duel c!Wilbur any time he opened his mouth to spout Burr quotes because “oh no you don’t, don’t you dare quote Aaron burr to me you snake, you bring your sneaky king George soundin’ acting ass at dawn with guns drawn or so help me-“

I love how similar they are but also how much they would fucking LOATHE each other. c!Miz would definitely be the Greater DSMP parallel to c!Wilbur and L’Manberg. Bitch would HATE L’Manberg 😂

[madamemiz]

i had a lore thought about kerfur the other day and i'm curious what you think as a primary source of kelfur (is that a name?) the kidnapping event, where kerfur disappears in a pool of blood i learned (on the wiki) it cannot happen while Dr. Kel is looking at Kerfur and it's giving me yaoiful thoughts because like, the yellow/orange kerfur that's possessed and tries to kill you kerfur omega, a true AI, CANNOT be possessed by that ?same? entity, only relocated but every single time, kerfur comes back untouched, right next to home and whatever flesh entity is trying to possess and inhabit robotics cannot even ATTEMPT this on kerf if Kel is looking, much less succeed when he isn't and that idea that the connection Kerfur has to Dr. Kel and the base gives them a "soul", or something "more" that makes them incorruptible, the one "pure"/good thing to come out of everything that might've happened in that damn bunker which also has me very, very curious about Skerfuro, seemingly the antithesis to this idea hmmmmm................

(the details are probably gameplay concessions but....................)

ok first of all reading the phrase "yaoiful thoughts" in the year 2k24 is sending me, thank you

second of all OUGHHH yes yes i love interpreting things that are probably meant to be gameplay mechanics or bugs as lore implications. are they supposed to be? no! do i care? also no! kerf cant be taken while kel is watching? power of love babeyyyy. kerf's pathing gets stuck on the hill while going to tango? nah, they're just enjoying the view

fr though, it's very interesting that (so far) it seems that whatever is possessing skerfuro and kerfu can't do the same to kerfur, at least not to the same degree. what's the difference? seems implied that kel's kerfur is an updated model, so it could be as simple as that. maybe stolas outfitted the current model to have wards against posession. wouldn't it be fun if it was something more, though?

maybe kel is kind to his kerfur. there's no real canon indication of it, but i'd like to imagine that's the case. base kerfur doesn't seem to have any thoughts going on in their sweet, empty little head, but perhaps there's something there. a spark, a potential; something to be nurtured by said kindness. once they're upgraded with an ai chip and more mobility, the seeds of that potential grows into something more. idk if kerfur will ever be implied to have true sentience, but i love to think of kerfur omega having an emerging sentience that's spurred on by kel treating them like a person; thanking them for doing their job, giving them praise or pats, affection. just talking to them in general, acknowledging them

skerfuro is fascinating to me, and kinda makes me sad in the way that kerfu does. they're clearly possessed, but how? what happened to them? could have been bad luck, but... maybe their human was not nearly so kind to them. maybe their fledgling ai had nothing to grasp onto, nobody worth surviving for. why fight it?

now, fueled by whatever's possessing them, all they feel is rage and jealousy toward a version of them that has what they never got

[renee561]

17 and 49!! -miz

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

Honestly right now im really into crossovers with earlier 2000s shows:

NCIS Agent! Cassandra Yates becomes Dr Cam Saroyan overnight to get closer to FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth, her ex-boyfriend who she hasn't heard from since they broke up a decade ago, because his brother Jared Booth is wanted for the possible killings and abductions of three other Naval Officers.

When her husband was shot, trying to protect her, Temperance Brennan couldn't handle it, so she did what she always did when emotions got the best of her: She ran away. But a string of coincidences, she ends up in Grandview, New York, where her former roommate Melinda Gordon still believes she can see her mother, a mother that's been dead since 1993.

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

Curre try working on two fics, Skirt Our Line and my Military Au:

Skirt Our Line:

He did, "Tomorrow after some of the soreness goes away. I feel like if you put any more pressure on it, I'm going to be laid up all weekend. I'd rather like to get this kid some peace as quickly as possible.

She nodded, before pulling away completely.

"Hot shower, medicine, bed; that was the order, yes?"

He smiled. Maybe she could be a duck. His brilliant, beautiful, stubborn duck.

Military Au:

She furrowed her brow, "I think you're a good mother. Why wouldn't I think you're a good mother?"

Parker was a well mannered, inquisitive child. She highly doubts that had to do with her or Booth, who spends very little time with him.

Fic Asks

[mzvermin]

whay if we hab a party

[25jipassion]

minoharu are mizisua coded to me. do yall see the vision.

[theunknownmasks]

“Its nothing.” / Mizrak to Olrox.

Send “What happened!?” for your muse to see mine injured.

alternatively send “Its nothing.” for the reverse. 

Olrox stood there, struggling between getting closer or not on the inside as he stared at the wound on the good Christian man he loved. "Don't bullshit me, Mizrak...not when you're bleeding out in front of me. I have eyes. I see the truth.." He nagged a tad as he continued to stand there and there was this yearning to inspect him. "May I?.."

[mothmanperson]

All-Knowing And All-Agony

“they’re delusional…”

till muttered to himself, seeing his friend acquaintance delirious, panicked even. he was a bit spooked by what just happened.

till had never seen them that way, they were usually calm if not a bit lost in their head, a free spirit.

what he saw now, reminded him more of a scared animal, a kicked puppy, and at worst gnawing off it’s foot to get out of a trap. the look in their eyes changed too, like with the flick of a switch, the carefree light left and got replaced with a gaze that told a long gruesome story. it sent sharp shivers down his spine.

a hand put on his shoulders, snapped him out of his thoughts and his eyes blinked away the dryness from staring. it was… ivan, of course..

he had to hold back an annoyed sighed, almost rolling his eyes. why did he get his hopes up again? miz had a partner and he was happy for her, of course he was, but it still hurt.

“are you… okay..?” ivan asked, a bit hesitantly, aware of till’s…. ‘difficult’ feelings towards him. for once his usually leisure smile was gone.

till’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, carefully moving his shoulder away from ivan’s hand.

“…’course….”

was his short answer, though it came out a bit rough, a bit to stuttery for his taste.

“what happened when i was gone…? it….looks like someone choked them….”

ivan’s eyes narrowed, slightly concerned.

“fucking idiot choked themselves, mumblin’ all this… uh- this random stuff…” till sweat dropped.

“they actually choked themselves?!”

the other yelled out, getting an annoyed glare from the blonde currently fussing over [y.name], which made him shut his mouth.

“mhm… but they’re gonna be fine, they’re always fine…”

seeing as [y.name] was being cared for, and not wanting to seem to worried, till stepped away, walking after mizi and her girlfriend like a lost puppy, after which ivan followed diligently.

<<previous next>>

also on ao3

[yoonlyhan]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ in which mizuki met someone who said they know him... 100 years ago?

you kept having dreams. specifically a white small snake. at first you shrug it off as a nightmare and weird considering you haven't seen a white snake ever in your life. but it started to creep you out when it appear over and over again in your dreams.

you thought it was a familiar sight to see. maybe you had seen one but... no doubt you haven't. at least not in this life.

you've searched for clues and answers online and even ask people who are either a fortune teller or a dream expert. and they all told you the same thing.

“you are guarded by a diety.”

of course you didn't believe it. you didn't even feel it's protection in your entire life. it was all absurd.

that is until one morning.

you were on your way to your job when an old lady calls you out. it was someone who was sitting on a bench in a park. she was staring at you... or at your soul?

“yes?” you called back yet you didn't approach the old lady, fearing that she might be a threat.

“this isn't your first time living in this world, aren't you?”

“yes? i mean, what?”

you tilt your head in confusion. the grip on your id lace grew tighter.

“you've died in such an unfortunate way.” the old lady shakes his head. “i pity you, young girl.”

you started to feel goosebumps. you even looked around to see if she was still talking to you.

you hesitantly gulped and only smiled politely at her. “i'm not sure what you are talking about, ma'am...” you trailed off.

she continued to stare at you until you felt too uncomfortable looking at her. your gaze could only look at your shoes as the beat of your heart grew faster.

what is she talking about? is she talking to me or a ghost?

“go to the mikage shrine.”

you raised your head to look at her. “mikage... what? i'm sorry but i'm running late to—”

“go to the shrine. pray for your life.”

...eh?

“pray that you'll last long living your life. admit your sins and beg for forgiveness.”

what...?!

“thank the gods and offer luxury to them.”

“but i—”

“go to the mikage shrine now!”

and that's how you almost cried while asking for a leave for the day through a phone call. your boss was confused at your crying voice and before you can even give out a valid reason, he only to come back tomorrow.

when you ran away from the old lady in the park, you hesitantly started to ask direction to the shrine the old lady told you to go.

it sounds like a scam or the start of a horror movie but... you have this big gut to follow what she said.

when you reached the top of the stairs, there was indeed the mikage shrine. while catching your breath, you looked around and saw no signs of people and you were alone.

or at least that's what you thought.

...♡♡♡

“it seems we have someone today.” mikage smiled as he sips the tea from his cup.

kotetsu and onikiri flew immediately to the room where they can peek at the person visiting the shrine. it was a young woman in corporate attire. the two wonder what her wishes are.

“oh, is she the first for today?” mizuki high pitched voice reached mikage's ears.

“it seems so.” mikage looks back to the room where onikiri and kotetsu are in.

“i—” the girl loudly catch her breath.

mizuki immediately had this image of a girl climbing the stairs with difficulty. he didn't blame the visitors though. it's truly hard to climb the many stairs before you can even reach the mikage shrine.

“i wish to live a long life! there might be times where i've done something wrong but it was not really that severe... i still beg for your forgiveness!”

then there was a thud. more like a bag being placed down on the ground.

“i don't know the luxury you wanted but i am offering you this, god or... goddesses!”

mizuki had his eyes widen by the bizzare wish of the girl. sure there have been strange wish by some visitors but this one is a little bit concerning. though he was still curious about the other wish of the girl.

there was a moment of silent. and mizuki thought that the girl had already left so he walked towards where kotetsu and onikiri is and took a peek to the girl standing outside.

ahh... she's praying quietly.

mizuki wonders what she was praying for. he wanted to hear and maybe... do something about it.

though there was one thing mizuki was also trying to figure it out. it was because the girl oas oddly familiar to him. maybe she visited the shrine in the past?

he hears her started to mutter something so mizuki was encouraged to lean to hear it. he was that curious to eavesdrop on what might have been a secret between her and the god.

“...white snake... dreams... so weird—”

white snake?

mizuki leans more. placing his ear to the wall.

“...mizuki—”

mizuki jumped from the mention of his name. he glanced at her and saw that she was also shock on what she said. her clasped hands was brought to touch her lips as mizuki's eyes follow the gesture.

“mizuki?” the girl uttered again.

kotetsu and onikiri flew towards him and started to whisper at him. “do you know her, mizuki-sama?”

mizuki responded with a quiet shake of his head. lips were parted as he narrow his eyes at the girl.

“she... looks familiar?” he tilts his head in confusion.

where have he seen this girl?

onikir whispered more. “she mentioned a white snake. could it be you, mizuki-sama? someone in the past—”

“ah, mizuki!”

the three of them jumped when she suddenly yelled mizuki's name. while mizuki's head was starting to ache, trying to think the possibilities of meeting a girl like him. unfortunately it only leads to a headache.

but... the girl's face is indeed familiar. could she possibly be—

“why would he be the one appearing in my dreams?! mizuki?!”

the girl started to shout unbelievably. while mizuki didn't know if she was cursing at him or someone with the same name as him. but it's seems it is him that she was talking about.

“that snake... from 100 years ago? why would he—” the girl shake her head and looked straight. mizuki even thought she was looking at him but that was impossible because there was a wall between them and mizuki was just peeking at her through a small space.

“can't believe that old lady was onto something.” she sighed. “of course i'd remember mizuki.”

mizuki leans back as his eyes started to widen at a sudden realization.

“y/n...”

masterlist ♡

© all written works are created and owned by @yoonlyhan. do not plagiarise or translate any of my content on other platforms under any circumstances. u will be blocked :x

[madhatterbri]

Boss | G.W. Part 2

Summary: After the miz tv segment, Grayson and you were going to celebrate of you winning the intercontinental champion when WWE producer tell you that you will be storyline with your boyfriend Grayson Waller and your best friend Austin Theory and you have decided who want to align with. But Grayson and you don’t think about that right way but you guys celebrate you winning your intercontinental championship with shoey and a little bit of fun 😈

Requested by: @stephwrestler

Grayson Waller Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Taglist: @magicalbuttertarts @hodgepodge-musings @rise-against-the-machine

"I can't believe you talked me into doing a shoey with you."

Grayson smiled as you looked at the two shoes on the coffee table. Once filled with alcohol, they were now damp. Your lipstick smeared on your shoe. He kissed you softly at first. The taste of your favorite drink on his lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as he deepened the kiss.

He pulled away briefly. He bit your bottom lip softly. "Does my boss want to be spoiled?"

You immediately nodded your head. He smiled and kissed you roughly. His body leaned towards you to lay you down on your back on the lounge chair. Legs parted as he sat on his knees between them.

"Then whatever she wants, she gets."

He leaned down. His lips kissed the sensitive part of your neck. You sighed happily as you turned your head from him. The simple movement made it easier for him to tease you. Grayson whispered all the things he wanted to do to you. His words shot straight through you. You tried to close your legs, yet his body kept them open.

"My boss, my champion," he spoke softly. His hand finding its way between your legs. Fingers rubbed your underwear, paying special attention to the area covering your clit.

Your mouth dropped open briefly as you moaned his name. The fabric of your underwear is starting to dampen. He always had this effect on you. The overly confident Aussie just made you melt. No one had ever made you feel like this before.

He moved to kiss your lips. More teasing whispered against your lips. "Already so wet for me. Should we get a closer look?"

You raised your hips as his answer. He smiled against the kiss before pulling away. "That's my girl."

Grayson stripped you of your underwear and tossed them aside. With no barrier, his fingers found your clit once more. The sounds your body made picked up in volume. His fingers explored lower before thrusting inside of you.

His name fell from your lips.

"That's right, love. Let them know who makes you feel like this. What's my name?"

His fingers curled inside of you. Your teeth bit your bottom lip. You gripped the pillow below your head.

"Grayson," you answered in a needy moan.

He cursed and remarked how hot that was. Your boyfriend felt like he was going to explode. Seeing you unravel around him made it hard to control himself. His fingers were removed from inside of you. You let out a disappointed whine.

"I know, I know," he commented as he lowered his boxers quickly. Grayson leaned over you again. One of your legs was wrapped around his waist.

"You drive me insane," he informed you. The tip of his dick pressed at your entrance. Grayson kissed you as he thrusted inside. His mouth captured your moan. Soft thrusts quickly replaced by rougher ones when you told him you wanted more.

The couch scratched the floor under you. A noise complaint was probably going to be filed. The two of you moaning the other's name. Grayson loved this, loved you. He loved celebrating all your biggest accomplishments with you.

When the two of you came down from your orgasm, he laid his head on your stomach. Neither of you wanted to move a muscle. The events from tonight catching up with you. A couple of times, he kissed your stomach before laying against it on the side of his head. Your fingers snaked through his brown hair.

"So, are you going to choose me over Austin now?" He asked with a tired chuckle.

You rolled your eyes. There was no doubt that you would ever choose his soon to be ex tag partner over him. The producer who pitched the idea to you must have lost his mind.

"I have to choose what is best for me," you answered. "After all, I am the boss."

[ohnomytummy]

Hi, I have a story from this Thanksgiving that I thought this community would like, and I don't have a kink blog to post it to so I'm gonna share it here cause I know your box is always open. Lol

I'm relatively thin, severely underweight for a good chunk of my childhood, have always been poor so I've never gotten to indulge too much in feasting, not in this economy. But long backstory short, I had the house to myself for pretty much 4 days straight for Thanksgiving break, along with all the leftover food from the entire family thanksgiving.. I was asked to toss most of it because we didn't have room in the fridge and it would go bad, but I didn't want any of it to go to waste.. you can probably tell where his is going..

I have a pretty sensitive stomach since I get full pretty quick, and I'm also lactose intolerant and most meat makes me gassy (and sweaty for some reason?), but for some reason none of that mattered to me, I put a YouTube series I've been itching to watch on my phone and munched on everything that was in front of me which included:

-almost half of a turkey that had been sitting out on the table for a day

-a platter of cheese and cube/slice things and pepperoni/some other meat I forgot

-I wanna say maybe 20 small sugar cookies (the puffy Walmart ones with frosting)

-about 2 litres total of a miz of lemonade, sprite, ginger ale, and coca cola

- 5 bread rolls with melted cheese and butter

-uncounted handfuls old candy I still had from Halloween....

I didn't even realize I'd been eating so much, but I guess since it was all over the course of about a day (9 hours-ish?) It was gradual enough that I didn't realize I'd gone overboard until the end. I remember reaching for the next thing getting ready and thinking "wow i wonder how much ive eaten" and seeing that the answer was all of it. I was wearing an elastic tank top, and I looked down and holy shit I looked pregnant. The tank top is kind of long but there was maybe an inch of belly sticking out from underneath naturally, and the tank top itself was like vacuum sealed tight to my skin!

This is where stuff gets crazy. I put my hand on my stomach to rub it and I could feel it churning under my hand, from the inside ofc and through my belly. I'd been burping throughout the whole stuffing absent-mindedly, but now that it was all setting in, I felt like I was going to puke. I couldn't even feel nauseous at first, it was just PAIN in my middle and I could barely get up. I'm so glad I was alone because I was moaning and rubbing my belly with both hands, holding it as I tried to get up. I could feel myself bringing up burps with every exhale, they were like.. soft and quiet but also really deep and sick, coming out with every breath, like "... urrrrrrp.. hic-hurrrrrp... uurppp. ur-urrp... hic-hUuuurrrrrrrrrp..." and with groans after each one lmao. I made my way to the bathroom eventually and sat by the toilet, sure I was gonna be sick, but I wasn't. I almost wanted to be, but I think I was just too scared to puke. So I sat back against the tub, facing the toilet, my whole body was covered in a cold sweat atp and i was rubbing my belly, and I could feel every single rumble as it ripped through my stomach and rose up as a belch. I couldn't stop burping like I was just about crying on the bathroom floor, bloated as a tick, belching helplessly. After a few minutes the burps started slowing down, but they were much more wet when they did come up. I think the meat and lactose was probably digesting now because I actually started to feel queasy. I started holding in my burps in fear that the food might come up, but then the air started xoming out the back. Starting with small short toots, leading to nauseous farts that, much like the burps, WOULDNT STOP. I was uncontrollably farting, small short bursts every few seconds and idk how to describe it but the farts felt pukey somehow. My stomach was churning like crazy and I could hear it from the outside (still felt intense as I rubbed it too). All the while the original belches never really stopped, so I was just on the floor, gas from both ends pouring out. My stomach was so hard and tight it felt like a bowling ball attached to me and my shirt was so tight it was so hot in hindsight but I felt like I was dying in the moment. Anyways I eventually fell asleep on the floor, woke up feeling sick, burped and farted next to the toilet again and tried doing the doggy-style yoga pose (best that I could, anyways, with my bloated upset tummy still filled with rotting undigested Thanksgiving leftovers) and kept farting until out of nowhere I almost shat myself, I think the position I was in moved the air along but the air took some stuff with it, so now I had to abandon that and sit on the toilet with a trash bin next to me because I couldn't fit it between my legs (my tummy took up the room lol) and it was mostly just me being sick from both ends, along with super uncontrollable rumbly burps and farts that just would not ever fucking stop.

Once it was all out things went back to normal, other than me being really gassy for a few more days.

I will let my uh *cough* community have this 😳🥵

[mizuurei]

the pc symbolism meme is so. we really got infinite mileage out of that one

It’s so beautiful in its simplicity, tbh, and so, so useful for fandom.

[madamemiz]

DAY OF BIRTH?!!!??

HAPPY DAY OF ANOTHER DANCE AROUNF THE SUN!!!!!!!💚✨✨💚🐉🐉✨💚🐉✨💚💚✨🐉🐉✨✨✨✨💚✨✨💚✨✨💚

hi hello you sent this last year and i thiiink i intended to draw something funny for it, then i forgot about it, and now i see it as i'm checking my askbox for the first time in ages dfhjkdf. thank you a whole year late!!! <3

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[haliotropes]

Black Star (Rustin Cohle x OC)

5. Bouncing Back | Rated M

A/N: FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF and lots of alcohol. Soft Rust??? It's more likely than you think.

₊˚ ✧.* ೃ ₊˚ ✧.* ೃ ₊˚ ✧.* ೃ ₊˚ ✧.* ೃ

Seven shrill rings of her desk phone before Kenny actually bothers to pick it up. Most times, if it's not urgent, whoever is trying to call her will give up. On the fifth ring. People are so impatient these days.

But, with the way her article has been out a couple of days, and now with higher and higher hopes that Marty and Rust will communicate with her, she's a little more inclined to answer. Neither of them are on the other end of the line, however. 

“Kennedy Marsden, speaking.”

“Miz Marsden!” Comes a deep southern drawl. It's a voice familiar, but distantly so. Kenny sits up in interest. “Good to hear your voice again. This is Reverend Billy Lee Tuttle. How are you doing, my dear?”

Not that Kenny was high on hopes, but she still deflates at the name. An old friend of her father's, a man who capitalizes on God and His word and abuses that power. Kenny has a backlog of smear pieces on him that Doucet won't even touch. 

“Reverend. This is an unexpected call. What can I do for you?”

Skip the pleasantries, he'll hardly notice. And he doesn't. He only laughs.

“I was reading your article in the Journal . We're on our way to have a chat with Quesada and I noticed a little detail in here I wanted to ask you about.”

“We?”

“Hm?”

“You said ‘we’?”

“Oh, just myself and a few friends of mine.”

Kenny exhales silently. Not her father.

“What detail?”

“You refer to the nature of the murder as being explicitly ‘ not satanic’.”

Kenny turns in her chair. “I believe my phrasing was, ‘not observably satanic in nature.’”

“I wanted to ask, was this a personal conclusion you yourself drew, or was this an opinion given by the, uh…police? Funny, the places you don't give names.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Now, no need to be coy, Miz Marsden. Nobody's in trouble.”

“So why do you want to know?”

Tuttle sighs heavily and Kenny can't help but smirk at the fact that she's giving him some headache.

“Some of our friends at the state level are concerned with the… anti-Christian rhetoric that tends to follow cases like these.”

“You mean the governor.”

“So, I'm just curious, who was it that pressed this was not a satanic crime?”

Kenny reaches over onto her desk, retrieves a cigarette and lights it. Answers through her first exhale.

“It was me. Happy?”

Another sigh, this one thick with paternalism.

“I know you and I haven't always seen eye to eye-”

“I printed what I printed because it's the truth. Don't forget that I studied this, Reverend. Dora Lange’s killing had none of the hallmarks of satanism and we both know it.”

There's a brief silence, the sound of Tuttle turning something over in his mouth.

“ That was her name. Thank you for the reminder.”

Shit. Her name is still unreleased. Kenny curses under her breath and slams the phone down, ending the call.

Later that day, the phone would ring again. This time, Kenny answers immediately because she expects it to be Rust or Marty. Instead, it's Geraci. And he barely squeezes out a sentence before Kenny sets the phone down, because he says the name Marie Fontenot , and she knows.

Oh god, she knows.

-

Rust knew it was only a matter of time until she showed up. He can't say why he expected her. Not because she has anywhere else to go, but because she's so goddamn private. Surely, if she's going to mourn, she's going to do it in her own way.

But when there's a heavy knocking at his apartment door, Rust already tastes the heavy sweetness and the iron of her identity. Already sees her through the wall. In an undershirt and his work pants he opens the door. There, on the other side, is Kennedy, as expected. She is, in every obvious way, drunk, from the smell of bourbon on her breath to the way she's leaned against the doorframe. Funny, how they've reversed positions yet again. 

Rust doesn't just let her in, though. No, some part of him, some curious, testing part needs to see how badly she needs to be witnessed- and how much by him.

Rust doesn't look her in the eyes- can't, for how fucking tragic they are, but he plays it as aloofness. He looks at the parking lot behind her.

“You're not a cop anymore, Kennedy.”

“I was never a cop.” Her voice is thick with grief. “As I am reminded every day. We both know what I'm here for so why don't you do the decent thing and invite me in?”

Good enough of a start, he thinks, and moves so she can enter. 

“Brought us Lonestars,” she says, and shoves a pack of beer against his chest. He closes the door behind her. 

“What about that liquor you been drinking?”

Kenny makes a popping sound with her mouth. “All out.” Rust sets the beer on the kitchen counter and watches silently as Kennedy moves about the room, picking up photographs of dead people, looks at his morbid book collection, all without batting an eye.

”Nice place,” she says. Then, nodding to the cross above his mattress. “Didn't peg you as a god fearing man.”

Rust moves from his spot and draws a bit nearer to her, but not too much, remembering to give her space.

“I'd like to think that if a god existed, I'd have enough common sense to fear him.”

Kennedy turns back to him with a mean smile.

“I'm sure you would like to think that.”

Rust's face doesn't change.

“Thought we were being decent.”

Kennedy looks away, then finds the tiny mirror Rust keeps on his wall. She clumsily closes one eye and peers at it.

“You're right. I'm sorry. It's not your fault.”

Kennedy draws back. Rust watches as her shoulders tense.

“I fucking knew it. I knew it,” she says. Kennedy walks to where Rust has spread out the evidence for Dora Lange's case. “Nobody goddamned listened to me. That little girl is dead. You're never gonna find her body, either.”

Rust winces like she slapped him. Her words punch, scratch, claw, kill. She's lashing out right now and he's catching strays.

“Why'd you come here, Kennedy?”

She grimaces. “God, don't fucking call me that, alright. Just call me Kenny. I hate my name.”

“When I asked if you had a preference-”

“I was tryin to be polite. Fuck all it gets me, anyhow.”

Rust shoves his hands in his pockets, follows her to where she's wandered. Resets his patience.

“Then why'd you come here, Kenny?”

Kenny picks up one of Dora's autopsy photos and traces the spirals on her skin, the bruises like clouds.

“Marty won't get it.”

“Marty's lost people before-”

“No,” she turns to him abruptly, her face now closer than before. “No, it's not about losing. It's about what to do with it.” Kenny seems to think of something and her face screws up and she cries harder. “I can't believe those sick fucks just left one of those things back there. What's the point? They already have her. There's nothing to worship. There's nothing to prove.”

Kenny puts the photo back and sits in one of the lawn chairs in Rust's living room. He watches her, curled into her knees, not openly weeping but just sort of… expelling, and Rust goes to the pack of Lonestars and pulls two cans. He sits in the chair next to Kenny and nudges her knee with the can. Wordlessly, and without even looking, she takes it. Rust opens his and takes a small sip. He's not looking to get drunk, but hell if he's gonna let her drink alone.

Kenny chugs half the can before setting it on the floor. She sighs, pushes the hair from her face, and looks at Rust.

“How much do you actually know? About why I left?”

Rust takes another shallow sip and shakes his head.

“No more’n what I've picked up by being around you and Marty.”

Kenny cringes and he knows what she's thinking. She's thinking that she can't believe she assumed he would be interested in her past. 

But he knows that she knows that when he looks at her the way he is now, it's because he's trying to figure her out. Strip her down to her barest components like a clock and learn which gears turn what. 

He decides to do her a favor so she'll stop torturing herself.

“I figured you'd tell me in your own time,” he says, trying to mend the injury his earlier comment had seemingly caused. 

Kenny sighs. Smiles, laughs at nothing Rust knows about, shakes her head, and leans back in the chair. Rust matches her. When she looks at him, there's no humor in her eyes.

“If I'm gonna do this, there's no bullshit. You gotta tell me that you actually want to know.”

He doesn't hold the insult of that against her because she's drunk.

“I wouldn't be asking otherwise.”

“Okay,” Kenny says. She closes her eyes and lays her head back. “Christ, where to start…um…well, no parent in their right mind actually wants their kid to take up the badge, right? They can lie about it, for family tradition or appearances’ sake but it's not something you dream about the day they're born, right?”

But my daddy, he really didn't want it. Tried every trick in the book. He gave a good effort. Real good. But, look, I'm wired weird. Not in a special, savant, reverence way…” The not like you that they both know is buried lingers on her tongue, but goes unsaid. “But…the kind of way that you don't mind the bad. A bit too much. So I went to school, I was good. Top of my class. Not because I was innately the smartest or the most talented, but because I wanted it. To prove to myself I could do it. To prove to him I was willing to. We really do spend half our lives trying to prove things to people.”

Kenny hesitates, looks at Rust to interrupt. He doesn't, only drinks.

“Well, my father couldn't deny me after that, but he did the next best thing. Pulled strings. Assigned me to Quesada and that flimsy bastard folded like a cheap suit. Put me with the one person he thought I'd never get anywhere with.”

And the pieces fall into place.

“Marty.”

“Yeah. He's a good guy. Can be hard to tell sometimes, but he is. And this… This was about the same time Marie goes missing. I'm doing my in-service training. I dig my nose in a bit, get my collar yanked at, went back to business. Didn't smell right. I kept up. I mean I knew , right? The same way you did. And then…I fucked up. I, uh,” she chuckles like it's a fond memory, for a moment. “I broke into the Vermilion Sheriff's Department. It was, single handedly, the stupidest thing I've ever done. I got into as much trouble as I deserved, and they kicked me. And then the second stupidest thing I’ve ever done- I follow up on a lead, solo, with no badge, no state issued firearm, just myself and my daddy’s old Smith n Weston. Wandered into the wrong person’s backyard, got a leg full of buckshot.”

“Now, I know what you’re thinking.”

He doubts it, because Rust surprises himself, thinking of how beautiful she looks when she’s vulnerable like this. 

“You’re thinking, if I wanted it bad enough, why didn’t I go back to my dad and beg him for it? He visited me in the hospital and promised me I'd be pushing case files from a behind a desk for the rest of my career if I didn't leave. So I left.”

And Rust, despite probably knowing better, asks the next obvious question.

“Why didn't you go somewhere else? If it was about the work, why didn't you leave the state?”

“That's the question, ain't it?”

“I'm asking it.”

All Kenny does is smile sadly. “I don't have a respectable answer.”

Rust lays his head back and closes his eyes. “Hm.”

“Plenty of us don't.”

“Never denied it.”

He can hear her fiddling with the tab on the beer can.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“What does person better’n you look like?”

Rust doesn’t answer, but he does look at her, because he knows this question has more to do with her than it can ever have to do with him. This proves true when she looks at the wall of evidence and smiles.

”I know what mine looks like. Yain’t gotta tell me. I more just wondering if you'd thought about it.”

“You’re talking about projecting personal improvement onto a reflection?”

“If that's the way you wanna put it.”

“That's what you do?”

“‘S what we all do. Dress ourselves up in our heads like paper dolls with the traits we want, the vices we're willing to succumb to and the burdens we're willing to shoulder. It's all allocation. A series of conscious decisions.”

Rust thinks of the give and take of his interactions at work, when he’s with Marty, when he’s in the interrogation room, when he’s alone with himself. Yes, he does it. “No, That's not what everyone does.”

“But it's what you do?”

“And it's what you do.”

“Well…there’s some comfort in that, I guess,” Kenny smiles lazily, blinking slowly at Rust.

“Comfort for who?”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

They settle into a comfortable silence. 

Rust finishes his beer. 

“We’ll find her,” he says, quietly. When he gets no response, he looks over. Kenny is dead asleep in her chair, facing toward him, her brows truly relaxed in a way he’s never seen them before. He sighs. It’s for the better, he thinks. He isn’t sure why he said it, because he doesn’t know if it’s true. He’d like to believe it, of course. But if this guy hasn’t made a show of it, and she’s been gone for five years…the chances aren’t good. Louisiana’s a big state with deep waters. 

Rust stands, stretches, reorganizes the evidence Kenny displaced, gets a spare blanket and drapes it over her. Checks the clock. It’s three am. He wasn’t going to get anything else done tonight, anyway, and he’s gonna be at work soon enough. So, he strips down and lays on his mattress, pulling the thin sheet over himself, and tries to sleep.

[vintageandroid]

WIP Wednesday: Editing Edition!

I finished writing my Terzo/OC fic. But I've been going through the initial edits! It's better than I thought it was, at least. Not perfect but like I'm writing a Satanic pope rom com for free idk what to tell you.

I also, as usual, need to come up with a Fucking Title. But if I can I will hopefully start putting it up next week. If anyone has title ideas or wants to talk about it FEEL FREE TO LET ME KNOW. I HATE TITLES.

(Thinking about tagging when I get to posting. Would a devoted Terzo and Omega queer platonic relationship get a / tag or a & tag? Probably mark it with & because it won't satisfy the shippers, now that I think about it, even if there's cuddling and "I refuse to be with someone who makes me choose" conversations. I absolutely do not want to give the impression that the platonic devotion in here is "less" than the romantic pairings, even if the latter are more central to the plot.)

anyway, here are the opening paragraphs in their current form, they may very well be subject to more editing. Terzo/OC, eventual "fake prime mover" story, OC is she/they nonbinary, more small-town settings, but we've moved further south.

--

Even inside the church building, the summer heat settled thickly against Terzo’s skin, dampening his hair, making the already-persistent pressure in his ears feel like a physical presence. His tinnitus whined in his right ear, so loudly it was a wonder others couldn’t hear it. He wasn’t dizzy, at least, as happened sometimes, but that might have been because the stifling heat made him reluctant to move more than absolutely necessary.

Instead he sat at the cash box, occasionally smiling at people, slightly wishing for death, feeling all the good of that morning’s shower gradually come undone.

“Whose idea was it,” he asked, “to have the bake sale in the middle of summer?”

He wasn’t sure if he said it loud enough to be heard over the standing fan that pointed at him, doing nothing but making him hopeful. And honestly, it wasn’t a question he was asking anyone in particular, more just in general, as he adjusted cash in the box and looked over at the tables, where pecan pies glistened stickily up at him and buttercream melted under plastic wrap. The air smelled of humidity and cinnamon.

But apparently he had spoken it loudly enough to be heard, because he got an answer.

“Sorry, Father,” said Cam Sinclair, and he shot them a reproachful look as they got up and adjusted the displays a little. “We have four a year. One of them is bound to be in summer. If we didn’t do anything when it was hot out, the whole South would close down for a few months.”

“I am not convinced that is a bad thing,” he said, watching her.

Terzo was sticky and miserable, his hair plastered to his forehead, and he suspected he had a noticeable darkening in the armpits of his white shirt—he’d given up on wearing the suit jacket over it. Worse, he felt like all his energy had been sapped. Cam, however, looked as vibrant as ever. Their hair was a pink fluff pulled back from their face, and their eyeliner didn’t dare run or smudge. Their flushed cheeks seemed less from the oppressive Southern heat and more like a charming detail.

Another resident of Farthing came in through the front door and Cam sprang to action, moving like the heat had never bothered them in their life.

“Good morning, Miz Suzanne,” said Cam, because she knew everyone in the town of Farthing and, more importantly, they all knew her. “Oh! You brought your grandbaby!”

“I sure did,” said Miz Suzanne, who Terzo didn’t know in the slightest despite having lived here for three years. “My husband wasn’t sure I should bring little Hunter to the Satan church, but I said to him, if Miz Cam is gonna be here it’s fine.”

[renee561]

46 or 11 for the settings prompt for Booth & Brennan plzzz - miz

@miz-chase

46 or 11 was classroom setting or back of a cab (I believe) it's been a hot minute.

So, this actually starts off Skirt Our Line, and it's still a rough draft, so the whole vibe is a little off but a little sneaky sneaky for you

She kept her eyes forward, her focus on the end of her lecture, her posture as relaxed as she could make it.

She recognized one of the agents standing in her lecture hall and she didn’t like it.

Not at all.

She dismissed her students and watched the two approach as she tucked her papers back into her messenger bag, avoiding eye contact as best she could.

“Dr. Brennan, you’re a difficult woman to find,” the blonde woman said, but Temperance's eyes moved from her task to where the man—who looked uncomfortable—stood with his hands on his hips, his Cocky belt buckle peeking from below his FBI suit jacket.

Good. This was an unfortunate and uncomfortable situation. At least he felt just as uncomfortable.

“I don’t intend to aide in an investigation that Agent Booth is leading. I made that clear the last time the FBI approached me with their request. My answer has not changed in the six months since.”

She knew the line, he should too It was after all his line

She was good at compartmentalizing, he was not.

She even went as far as taking a dig out of the country to make sure she remembered.

The blonde woman looked at him, and his casual shrug at the other agent at his side made Temperance irritated.

He was too calm about this.

“I’m Special Agent Payton Perotta, I’ll be taking the lead if you agree to help us with the set of remains that were found, Dr. Brennan. The Deputy Director knows about your unwillingness to work with Agent Booth on investigation matters. You come highly recommended by the New York Coroner and the US District Attorney and a few other sources. He wants to make sure that they aren't blowing wind up his sail.”

She didn’t know what that meant by that turn of phrase at the end, but she understood the first part.

“So you’re going to be taken the credit for the end result?” She asked bluntly.

She looked at him and he smiled at her, his charming one.

She wanted to punch it off his face.

She didn’t want to be working with subpar agents. He knew this.

The woman had the foresight to look as upset at her blunt question as Temperance was about someone else taking credit for a case that was originally someone else's.

Originally Booth’s.

He shouldn't need to get this other agent involved. If he just—

“Shared credit, Bones, but since you won’t work with me, Agent Perotta was asked to be brought in because the remains aren’t recognizable, too decomposed, and you're the best.” It was a quiet admission, and she knew it cost him.

She looked at him with a raised brow.

Did they know why I wouldn't?

He barely moved his head in the negative.

She had a hard time understanding most cues, but not from Booth. She relaxed more than she was pretending to be since she saw them at the end of her hall.

Good at least that was still the case.

His ludicrious line wasn't going to be crossed.

“Deputy Director Cullen didn’t say, nor has Agent Booth why you won’t work with him. Would you care to explain why?”

She looked at the blond agent and pursed her lips, “No. I’ll help the FBI with this case. Have the body and evidence sent to the Jeffersonian, Agent Perotta. Agent Booth, don’t you have anything else to do?”

She needed him to leave if she was going to do this.

He smiled tightly before he left.

“What did Booth do to piss you off, Doctor? Give you a nickname?”

“He is the typical alpha-male and I do not work for alpha-males. The nickname is the least of the reasons that I won’t work with him, but it is one of them.”

She didn’t do nicknames. Yet he insisted on using that nickname anyway.

The agent nodded and Brennan couldn’t believe she was doing this, she didn’t want to do this but she knew it would eventually happen.

Everything eventually happened or so she was reminded…repeatedly. Especially considering who recommended her.

She did owe Caroline a favor, this was going to go a long way with the puckish attorney.

[andie01writing]

Take Your Time

            Two damn months.  That’s how long I have given the bastard that is my boyfriend.  “Need space, my ass,” I growl to no one in particular.  “Needed space to fuck every whore in town.”  One day coming home unexpectantly and walking in on “date” to show me the truth.

  “I did not invite you to sit and be a grouch at the bar,” my friend chastises.  “Get up and move girl.”

  “Sorry Char,” I grunt.  “But in my defense, I told you I was going to be like this.”

  “Forget him.”

  “Because he’s already forgotten me,” I smirk, clinking our glasses in a mock toast.

  “Kass,” she sighs.

  “Don’t let me ruin your night,” I force a smile.  “You enjoy and I’ll hold down this barstool and watch the fun happening around me in misery.”

  “Kassidy…”

I hold up a hand to stop her.  “I’ll be fine.  Go.  I love you but I really need to…I don’t know, feel this I guess.”

  “The first creepy guy I see over here and I’m here dragging you away.”

  “Appreciate it,” I chuckle.  “Now go have fun.”

X

            “Hello Pretty Lady.”

  “Move along.  Not here to hook up.”

  “Neither am I,” he chuckles.

  “Right,” I turn on the man.  “You just randomly walk up to women in bars…Oh, Bo, hey,” I smile.

  “No, I want to hear the end of that sentence,” he grins.

  “No you don’t,” I grin.  “What can I do for you?”

  “Nothing.”

It takes me a few seconds to process. “O…Ok.  You  just…”

  “You see,” he smiles, “my bud Curtis has a secret little crush on you.  I’m supposed to be over here talking him up but one look at your face I can tell you are in no mood for any of that.  So instead, I’m going to sit here and pretend to take some of your time then I’m going to ask for your phone, put said bud’s number in your phone and tell him tonight is not the night but the ball is in your court.”

  “Oh, well,” I huff.  “That is quite a bit of information.  Follow up questions.”

  “Shoot.”

  “You do this often?”

  “No.”

  “You answered entirely too fast.”

  “It’s the first time.  I didn’t have to think about it.”

  “Does Curtis have the same emotional intelligence to read me like you did?”

  “He’ll try.  Can’t guarantee perfection.  That’s his job.”

  “Is he really a good guy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you lie to me if he wasn’t?”

  “Probably…not.  But I also wouldn’t be his friend either so that point is moot.”

  “When I give you my phone, are you going to put your number in too?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  “I don’t really want his at this point but I’m playing along.”

  “No.”

  “You ever seen nudes on his phone?”

  “No.  He’s not the kind of guy to ask for them either.  Are you the type of girl to send nudes?”

  “Depends on the guy and the relationship.  Is he pushy?”

  “Elaborate.”

  “Can he give me time if I need it?”

  “Can his eyes wonder while you decide?”

  “I’m not currently dating him, why do I care?  I just expect loyalty when I give you mine.”

  “That he can and will do.  Are you going to string him along?”

  “That’s entirely up to him.  If he’s a douche I can be a bitch.  But if he’s as good as his friend says,” I slide my unlocked phone to him.  “I don’t think I will.”

He grins taking the device, I turn to glance at Curtis.  The man trying to watch without being too obvious.

  “Thank you for your time Kassidy.”

  “Hey, tell him that someone has fucked me up mentally right now so don’t get his hopes up too high but he’s cute so he’ll get a chance when I can pull myself out of whatever this is.”

  “That’s all he can hope for.”

  “Have fun tonight,” I call after him as he disappears back into the crowd.

            Charlotte checks on me throughout the night but they become further and further apart.  Bo tips his drinks at me occasionally but no more discussions.  Curtis smiles as Becky pulls him onto the dance floor. 

  “Hey Kassidy.”

Turning I find “The” Miz.

  “Miz,” I nod.

  “You’re looking…”

  “Don’t.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not in the mood to crush you tonight.  Move along.  Or try your wife.”

  “I was just gonna buy you a drink.”

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  “Come on now.”

  “Again, if you want to get laid, go find your wife.  I said move on.”

  “Me and Maryse have an agreement, don’t worry about that.”

  I open my mouth to respond when Bo is in front of me.

  “You look like you’re ready to head back to the hotel,” Bo grins.  “Can I walk you back?”

  “You protecting your buddy’s girl or you just ready to shoot your shot?”

  “You’re not my buddy’s girl yet,” he whispers.  “And I’ve already told you I just want to take your time tonight.  I thought you might want someone to save you from him.  If I was wrong…”

  “Goodnight Miz,” I smile around Bo.  “Shall we, Bo?”

  “We shall,” he grins, offering an arm.

  “Thank you, Bo,” I sigh as we step outside.

  “I noticed your friends had pretty much abandoned you.  Thought you might need someone to save you.”

  “Not a lot of guys could take a look at me tonight and not try to take advantage of my mood.”

  “Anyone that took one look at you would see that if they tried anything tonight, they would have their ass handed to them,” he grins.  “It was more to save my coworkers.”

  “I don’t have the energy lately.  Bad couple months.  Worse couple weeks.”

  “You’ll recover.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “People can see your inner strength.”

  “I think all my strength is all going to function right now.  Sorry.  I’ve drank too much tonight.  My thoughts are spilling out.”

He shrugs.  “Maybe you need to let them out.”

  “Is that your plan to get your in?”

  “You don’t trust much.”

  “Not at the moment.”

He nods slowly.

  “Rethinking your plan?”

  “Nope.  Just thinking about how deeply you had to be hurt,” he holds the lobby door open for me.  “If you want to release it, I’m all ears.”

  “I’m good,” I smile as we reach the elevator.

  “Can I walk you to your room?”

  “No.”

  “Good night then,” he grins pressing a kiss to my knuckles.  “I hope you allow yourself to heal, Kassidy.”

  “Good night, Bo.”

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co