#I MIGHT STILL GET TOO SCARED AND CHICKEN OUT. BUT I'M GONNA TRY SO HARD TO SHARE FJSDKL

[dandyshucks]

okay i am working on ship intro posts,, but im so scared HDSGJKL I think if I paint over the details with broader strokes than I maybe normally would then I can share it without feeling like I need to go explode myself and disappear into a forest forever LMFAO

[msbigredmachine]

You Again - Flashback

A/N: A snippet of Evelyn and Joe in high school. I'm still completing Part 2 which hopefully should be up soon.

Warning: Themes of bullying

Word Count: 1.1k

READ PART 1 HERE

Escambia High School, October 2000

“Hey Evie!”

She is so startled she collides with her locker door, her books nearly flying out of her hands. It takes a couple of seconds to regain her bearings and realize who is standing in front of her, and it’s not anyone she’s expecting, certainly not the captain of the cheer team.

“Ayesha,” Evie straightens, awkwardly shoving her books back inside her locker and adjusting her skewed glasses. “Umm, did you…did you want something?” she asks, her arms crossed protectively over herself. They’re not friends - Ayesha has never hesitated to remind her of this - so she wonders why she is here, flashing a megawatt smile that one could mistake to be amiable. 

“So…don’t trip,” Ayesha begins, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “but I found your note in History class.”

For a second she’s confused, and then it hits her. Oh no. Oh god. She tries to play dumb, fighting the urge to look into her History textbook where she’d thought she’d tucked her little, ill-advised daydream away in one of its pages, safe from the prying eyes of the queen of the mean girls. “W-What? What note?” 

“The note you wrote, silly. I think you dropped it on the floor, you really need to be more careful, girl,” Ayesha giggles.

It’s a lie and they both know it. Evie wouldn’t be so stupid as to expose such damning evidence, let alone discard it haphazardly in class of all places. Her brain is working frantically, trying to figure out how on earth Ayesha got hold of it to begin with. Each student had to present their History paper in front of the entire class, and she suspects Ayesha swiped the note from her desk when it was her turn. It’s not hard to imagine the malicious glee in her eyes as she read the contents, not too different from the one she is trying and failing to hide right this moment:

Dear Joe, Would you like to go to the Fall Ball with me? YES   NO

“Okay,” Evie starts tentatively, treading lightly. “So can I have the note back? Please?”

Ayesha’s eyes widen dramatically. “Oh! I gave it to Joe. I saw his name on it. The note was for him, right?”

Evie feels her heart sink to Titanic depths, her insides heavy from the weight of this shattering news. The magnitude of the trouble she's put herself in brings tears to her eyes but she quickly blinks them away before Ayesha adds it to her ammunition. “Oh…I, uh…it wasn’t for…You’re mistaken, the note was for another Joe-” she starts to backtrack.

“Oh girl, there’s only one Joe in this school who matters and we all know who he is,” Ayesha dismisses flippantly. “Why you so worried anyway? I come bearing good news. He asked me to give you this.” She extends her hand, a piece of paper that looked torn out of a legal pad tucked between her fingers. Eyeing her skeptically, Evie takes it, her anxiety rising as she unfolds it and reads the familiar scribble:

Dear Evie,

Meet me under the bleachers at lunch.

Joe.

Against her better judgment, her heart flutters at his invitation, excitement bubbling inside her just knowing he responded to her. But common sense swoops in, and she stammers, shaking her head, “Look, I don’t…this isn’t necessary at all…Please, let’s just forget that any of this happened-”

“Girl, are you seriously chickening out on Joe Anoa’i?” Ayesha counters. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for you and you’re turning it down?”

Evie makes one last throw of the dice, desperate to get out of this predicament. "But why are you doing this? Isn't he your boyfriend?"

"It's...complicated," Ayesha answers easily, placing a hand on Evie's shoulder. “Sweetie, any girl would kill to be in your shoes right now. Who knows, he might say yes. Are you really gonna throw that away because you’re scared?”

Terrified, actually. Not much good comes out of interacting with Joe Anoa’i when you’re not a member of his precious clique. But Ayesha is right. A private meeting with the most popular boy in school is too enticing to pass up, if only this once. So Evie forces herself to wait through the agonizing hour and a half before lunchtime, embroiled in thoughts of how their conversation will go. 

It turns out she should have trusted her gut, because the minute she steps onto the field, something feels off. 

Joe is not here. Outside is eerily quiet save for the muted bustling inside the cafeteria a few feet away. Chalking it up to him standing her up, Evie permits herself to exhale a huge sigh of relief and spins back towards the building, eager to forget all about the mess she almost made.

Then, it happens. Out of the shadows, they step out, seemingly from every corner of the stands. Jon. Josh. Ayesha and her lackeys, Kelli and Chichi. All of them emerging one by one until she is surrounded by his entire posse.

And last but not least, Joe appears like some kind of video game final boss. He steps between the twins, both of whom stare her down with the same demeanor as vultures circling over a carcass. He twirls her letter between his long fingers, his handsome face wearing a sugary sweet smile and a spiteful glint in his eye that strikes terror in Evie.

“So, Evie…I read your little message to me. It was…sweet. Real cute,” he says, coming closer to her, humored by the way she tenses as he towers over her. “I just have one question…” 

He gently trails the corner of the note along her cheek. The gesture would be considered as intimate if his eyes didn't harbor so much malevolence. “Did you really think my answer would be yes?”

The group bursts into laughter, the sounds cruel and taunting. Joe circles around her, regarding her with the same countenance as a piece of gum stuck underneath his Air Max sneakers. “What makes you think I’d ever wanna go to the dance with a nobody like you? Huh?” He throws an arm around Ayesha and kisses her cheek. "Babe, didn't you tell her you were going with me?"

Ayesha crosses her arms and shrugs with fake nonchalance, an even faker smile on her pretty face. "I wanted to...but it was much more fun fuckin' with her head."

She should have known better. Better than to write that shit in the first place. Known that Ayesha was setting her up from the start; known that standing her up or simply ignoring her was too merciful, too tame for Joe and his coven.

It’s beyond humiliating, and all Evie wants is for the ground to swallow her whole.

Ayesha steps up to her, angling her head low enough to catch Evie’s teary-eyed expression. “Awww, are you gonna cry? You gon’ cry bitch? You thirsty-ass pathetic loser?”

Ayesha's arms shoot out, shoving Evie so hard that she falls over, crying out as her knees collide painfully with the ground. Her glasses slip off her face and onto the cold dewy grass and dirt. Her tears splash onto the cracked lenses as they all step past her fallen frame, their cackles echoing in her ears long after they are gone.

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

Fun fact: A version of this incident happened to me in high school in real life. Only difference is I wasn't pushed. 😭😭😭

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[bengiyo]

My School President Ep 12 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

Most of the week I was actually ready to finish this show and begin anticipating its impacts. Now I just know I'm going to miss these losers.

Last week, Chinzhilla lost Hot Wave, and we spent the episode watching them grapple with yet another defeat: this time on the biggest stage yet. They decided to go back to the beach to honor their wishes, and we watched the group tear apart at the seams. Still, Yak came through with some perspective, Tiwson with some food, and Tinn with the final performance for the band at prom. Tinn's mom is aware of his relationship with Gun, but is trying to be a good mom and keep her anxieties to herself and her husband.

Oh right, we're picking up with Tinn's mom asking Tinn directly about Gun.

Not them cutting between both moms! Don't make me compare them!

Fine, let's compare. Tinn and Potjanee have this huge wall between them in their relationship that seems founded entirely on her expectations of Tinn. It's hard for well-behaved children to be open with their parents when they've thrived so long on praise for meeting those expectations. On the other hand, Gun and Gim have struggled and lost a lot together, and so much of their relationship is about Gim not letting Gun give up on his dreams. So, of course Gun can tell his mom about Tinn and it mostly be a formality and yet another excuse for them to hug and reassure each other.

I do feel for Potjanee. Seeing your son scared because you might ask about the person he cares about can't feel good, and there's no obvious way of fixing it at this point. However you've raised him has convinced him that he can't trust you with this. That's actually just so sad.

I get these two agreeing to continue as they are. The reality that some of your families won't accept you is unfortunately a norm for many viewers.

This Canon ad is cute, but anyone on the school network can access this printer???

The boyfriend era is fun.

Tiwson said you will absolutely give him his flowers.

The homophobia creeping at the edges is an unfortunate reminder of my own adolescence. I do like that the show is highlighting that it impacts queer girls too.

Irritated, jealous Gun is so demanding.

A tandem bike! My goodness.

Oh, I like them sliding in cute boyfriend kisses first. That's such a good choice, because they've actually been together for a while.

Phat, we're asking about juniors now??? I've been asking about this for like six episodes!

I really think we as a global society should stop taking pictures and videos of people on the streets and using them as content. What sucks so much about this is that Gun is finally willing to be openly affectionate with Tinn. He decides to kiss his boyfriend on their date, and now someone is going to take that joy from them. It's not like they were hooking up in the park, and yet here we are.

I love Chinzhilla with my whole heart.

Kajorn saying he quits if they're not on the same page, and Gun coming behind to say he already used the same lie Tiwson suggested...but Tinn doesn't want to lie anymore....set to a sad piano version of Let Me Tell You...oof.

Not Gun using Tinn's nose suggestion to keep from crying in the rain.

Best Boy Tinn is not gonna let this pull them apart. Interesting that we just saw Fourth and Gemini hug tightly in Moonlight Chicken. Gemini places arm in a similar way here, too.

I'm installing an EMP on every queer so that we can demolish people's phones when they record us.

Very much enjoying Sound and Win in the finale. I will miss all of Chinzhilla. I hope they appear in the Our Skyy 2 episode.

See, and this is why I never turned on Potjanee. I know some of y'all feel some kinda way about her, but here we are. These boys have not even been out for 24 hours and the shit is already piling. She asks, "Why aren't other people as kind as the characters in the series we watched?" Good question, ma'am. Our lives are not fictional, and we face the horrors daily. It's the dad saying, "We can't force other people, honey. It's down to us whether we're as kind to our son as those in the series." I see they learned Uncle Tong's lesson. Now go stand beside your son.

Not Tinn whispering the name order thing to Gun and Gun immediately asserting that his name is first!!

Having adults you trust being casually homophobic is so damaging.

Gemini has a fantastic eye roll. We saw it on episode 5 of Moonlight Chicken, too.

KAJORN!!!! COME THROUGH, BABY BOY! HIT AGAIN! HIT HIM FOR ME, TOO!!

What did I say?? Don't you ever lay hands on someone else's child! I SEE YOU, POTJANEE! YOU ARE INVITED TO BRUNCH!!

And this is how you make it right with your son. You show him he can trust you by standing in front of those who would make him feel lesser.

Okay, I like the outfits Chinzhilla picked!

They're playing You Got Ma Back. 😭 I love them so much.

Now they're doing Come Closer! I do love Ford's voice.

Oh I love Rock & Star as a song from Gun to Tinn.

I love getting Tinn back on stage again.

POTJANEE!!!!

I'm gonna need Gun to stop looking at Tinn's lips!

I'm so glad Gun got into a program he wanted. I can't take any more losses for this boy.

And here I was living in a world without Texas Chicken ads.

Oh, Sound and Win. I'm going to miss your dynamic. Look at Winny and Satang giving two solid kisses.

Poor Phat. Yo dropped him so fast.

Tinn and Gun are so cheesy. I love them.

Not me crying over Chinzhilla again!

I like the notes for their juniors and not showing any actors. It would lead to the wrong kind of speculation, and this lets GMMTV pick up this setting again any way they want.

Not @respectthepetty getting into my head about Gun's blue socks and Tinn's red shirt when he formally meets Tinn's parents.

I love Tinn's dad. He's embarrassing in only the way a loving father could be. He's also constantly rooting for Tinn.

We get 'eating' jokes and a sweet kiss in bed to close out the series. I'm good.

And they verse? We love to see it.

Wow. Just amazing. I loved this show.

Final Verdict: 10, Highly Recommended. I've been in queer media since I was a teen almost 20 years ago. I have experienced a lot of wins and losses as a viewer of BL. In so many ways this show healed any gripes I had with early productions like Lovesick, Make It Right, etc. This show is damn-near perfect. It's so heartwarming. I loved all of this. It's a show about a bunch of losers trying to help each other, and there's nothing more beautiful than that. We now have my new default recommendation for people curious about BL after coming off something sweet in the West.

[simplylove101]

FANFIC TAGGING GAME

I got tagged by my lovely bestie @backtothestart02. Thanks for thinking of me, hun. <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3? - 11 (and at least 4 on ff.net, though I had a few I deleted as well, including my longest story on there out of embarrassment lol)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

168, 530 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

On Ao3, it was strictly Gertchase from Runaways (Marvel) but I've also written for Gossip Girl & Harry Potter as well.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Most of them are my earlier stuff but there's one that was more recent that people seemed to like my take on a scene. 1. A Place Isn't Home - it's my baby, my first dip into writing fic in YEARS & for a ship that I'd only just gotten into. I put a lot prep & care into it beforehand so I'll always be proud of it considering it's centered around one trope - sharing a bed. lol 2. Lost Moments - doesn't surprise me now since there were lots of missed opportunities for good Gertchase content in S2 so I just had to do a missing moments fic for them 3. Over & Over Again - inspired by the Runaways promo team releasing the first few minutes of S3 before the season dropped & gave me the opportunity to write in Chase's pov which I love since it's easy for me. 4. Maybe I'm Falling - based on the teased bed talk with Gertchase before S2 dropped (which is still a cute scene) but I kinda prefer my version lol And 5. It's Your Call - my two different takes on Gertchase's S2 kiss scene written right after the trailer had been released. And guess what? Neither one was at all like what we got. lmao

5. Do you respond to comments?

Most of the time. Considering kudos are usually the only way I know if people are liking a fic by me, getting any comments on one is kinda a big deal to me cuz I love getting them. lmao

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Angstiest ending... Well, even when I write angst, there's generally some kinda hope since I like to write angst with a purpose even if it cuts hard. But since you were my home but now i'm (so) lost is about Future Chase reflecting on Gert's death & deciding to save her, I guess that's the automatic answer. But also, Lost Moments technically since it ends with Gert deciding to get over Chase after his betrayal (I was proud of that chapter tbh)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Ummm, basically the majority of them are happy like I said. lol Maybe I'm Falling is the purest tho since the whole thing is fluffy. hell was the journey but it brought me heaven was pretty cute too imo.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not on Ao3 since like I said, I hardly get comments as it is. But on ff.net... Trust me, I got some flames. It wasn't pretty. lol

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Before I wrote love doesn't know what distance is, the answer would have been a hard no. Mostly because I would always chicken out before I even got started. lol Somehow I convinced myself to get it a proper try on that fic and I didn't hate it??? Do I think I'm the best at it? Still no. But I'm not as scared now. It's pretty basic but at least I did it. lol

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not with my Gertchase fics cuz I suck at that kinda thing but during my Harry Potter days I used to experiment with AU ideas that never went too far before I deleted them. I remember I was gonna use a Real World (yes, the reality show lol) concept for a Harry/Ginny fic that never made it passed Chap 1. lmao

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of...

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Oh, this is so hard these days because younger me would always say Chuck/Blair and they are still up there.... I think Cole/Cassie from 12 Monkeys might be my most epic ship tho, despite me never having written for them before (I wouldn't know where to start tbh) And my heart will always belong to Ron/Hermione too. I love Gertchase but at the end of the day they might actually be more of a top 10 ship for me, I just am able to be inspired to write for them.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The ultimate WIP for Gertchase for me is a post-canon fic that initially was gonna be just a simple proposal but then I wanted to include other stuff like Gert getting pregnant, etc. so it could be a mini fic. But I've just never written it because of lost inspiration (the real life drama of the cast did kinda taint the show a bit at one point but also, the fandom's pretty dead too) That said, never say never. Maybe one day I'll do it. There's scenes I had written for it that I still have somewhere so it's possible. We'll see. lol

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. lol I know it is because that's how I start writing my fics. I tend to write scenes out like a script first because it's how I'm able to start visualizing the rest of it. Rarely does a fic of mine not start with a quote or at least a train thought by a character. I also like to think that when I do write angst I'm not afraid to go for the jugular so to speak because it's meant to hurt BUT I do always want it to have a purpose and move the story along. Also, apparently when I'm really feeling a chapter I'm not afraid to have a big word count. I can't help it. lol

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

The actual writing process. lol It doesn't always come naturally to me. I don't usually write anything all in one go unless I'm truly feeling it. Also, descriptive stuff. There's a reason why dialogue is my strength. It's writing around all that I struggle with a lot.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Um, it's intimidating. lol I did consider doing it a few times because Gert is fluent in Spanish & she was supposed to tutor Chase for it so I always thought it would be fun to tease that in a fic or two but never did. I don't want to get the translation wrong.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter. Because I was obsessed with Ron/Hermione. And yet if you looked at my old ff.net account you'd assume it was Harry/Ginny because I deleted all my RHr related fics. lol

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Omg, the hardest question. lol Most of them are all my bbs for different reasons. I do think my mini The College Woes trilogy is some of my strongest work to date tho because all of that is pure me going for it since it's all post-canon. I did research and had fun with the process.

Anyway, I don't really have anyone to tag myself because I don't know who follows me and wants to answer these questions but hey, if you write fic and see this, consider yourself tagged! Also, even tho I haven't written in a while & might never again in the foreseeable future, if you like Gertchase, my A03 account is When_the_Day_Met_Night21 :)

[floor10ghost]

Rena Reviews Euro Demo 67!

I don't remember many demo discs I had as a kid, just this and one other come to mind right now (which I'm also downloading) - but I'm just gonna chuck my thoughts on revisiting this silly psx demo disc here! It was in the official uk playstation magazine, i used to play the shit out of it over and over but only remember a couple of the games on there. Maybe I'll remember more while playing, who knows!

look at this sexy fucking disc. This invokes absolutely nothing.

The playable games on here are:

Asterix: The Gallic War

Bugs Bunny & Taz: Time Busters

Chicken Run

Cricket 2000

Frogger 2: Swampy's Revenge

Ms. Pac-Man Maze Madness

Re-Volt 2 (RC Revenge)

Time Crisis: Project Titan

anyway. Join me under the cut as i talk about each of these!

straight away LOOK AT THIS SCREEN

guys i think my demo disc has covid

the music is too generic to describe lmao but it goes very well with the imagery

anyway

Asterix:

I didnt grow up with Asterix! So there isn't the full nostalgic attachment there, but theres some *vague memories* here? Anyway I don't think I played much of this because it's dogshit.

It's a *VERY* rudimentary turn based strategy where you pour potions on provinces to reinforce them, then you enter an attack phase where the bigger number wins, then Caesar's Legions attack (fallout new vegas omg????)

At the end of the attack phase you enter a minigame, one of them is a 3d platformer where you play as Obelix

VERY bare-bones. There's no music *anywhere* in this demo. It's also all just very very slow. Won't be buying this when it comes out :/

Next up: Bugs and Taz!

This one is how I found the demo disc! It was one of the ones i played over and over, lets see if it holds up lol

There's thankfully a lot more to talk about here... and music!!!

This is a pretty standard 3D platformer at its core, but you can switch between Bugs and Taz, or you can play it co-op! I imagine that's how its meant to be played. If you're playing single player the other character stands entirely still, however you can hit the left bumper to summon them back to you.

You collect carrots throughout, as well as medallions that I imagine don't do anything in the demo. They seem to be your stars.

When you have enough carrots you can participate in a minigame, the one I remember is the Pelota against the Aztecs.

It's a fairly standard game, if you're playing single player though you *are* outnumbered - but it's not too hard anyway. You just steal the ball and try to throw it through the hoop.

The one I don't remember however, is

Baladi lessons? It's a fairly standard simon says type game but

it got gender in it

all in all, neat lil demo! I mostly remember finding rabbitholes and digging around in them because I thought it was insanely cool that bugs could go underground lol

Next up: Chicken Run!

this is the *other* game I played on repeat! But it *scared the shit out of me*. You'll see why.

So... this is a stealth game

You play as Ginger and you must *be careful of the dogs*

The entire demo is dreary with unsettling ambient music, why the fuck did they make the chicken run game a metal gear clone????

Anyway, you are quite literally a chicken being chased by fucking dogs. and if you get caught a menacing stinger plays as you see this

Was a bit much for me 2 year old heart i must say! Couldn't quite handle that!

Anyway, the stealth is really simple and easy, as one would expect. There's not much going on here other than childhood trauma.

Next: Cricket 2000!

yeah

Next up issss: Frogger 2!

Okay, I had no idea this existed at all. What the fuck?

Whenever I think of frogger sequels I think of those weird ps2 ones, but this is straight up frogger

Rather than the traditional level though you're presented with a themed gauntlet, such as the first stage, a garden themed one. You are tasked with saving frogger's children.

You might be wondering, what happens if you get run over by a lawnmower?

he explodes into chunks. What the fuck?

The second level is a haunted house

This is genuinely an oddity to me, I never expected them to try implement traditional frogger gameplay into something like this. Might play it on stream at some point, I'm intrigued. That being said, I definitely dont remember this. Pretty decent? The music fucking OWNS btw

NEXT: Ms. Pacman Maze Madness!

I had no idea this existed. But first I gotta say

REST IN PEACE MS PAC-MAN

she lives on in our hearts. Fuck pac-mom, ms. pac-man was where its at

Anyway this is. really *really* boring.

It's that era of pac where they clearly had no idea what they were doing, which still goes on to this day (i say this affectionately, i love pac-man) but this one was a fuckin MISS

It's trying to translate the mazes into something completely different, more a labyrinth than the single screen mazes of yore, with block pushing puzzles and launchpads, a gauntlet you must get through while collecting as many pellets as possible

and its really lame and boring im sorry. I like that the ghosts seem to wear different attire in each level, i like that my gal ms. pac-man is here

i dont like much else. its slow and tedious as hell

however

ROCKET LAUNCHER???? HUH???

Two games left!

Revolt 2!

I forgot to take screenshots but... this is an RC Racing game, it's really a cart racer with really confusing level design, a slight bump in the road will get your car flying across the entire universe and world. There's a bit where you drive under a jeep though which is pretty cute! @is-the-driving-good? No I'm afraid, ridge racer this is not.

Anyway I'm kinda rushing a lil bit because I'm tired and the last one is TIME CRISIS!!! ITS FUCKIN TIME CRISIS, DUDE!!! I love Time Crisis!!!

Time Crisis Titan

Alas... This was not the saving grace this demo disc needed. I can't get far at all for reasons I'll get into, but what *is* there is full of the silly janky charm Time Crisis is known for.

Love these silly models! Love em

Anyway, why is this on here? Why would you put *Time Crisis* on a demo disc? This *will not* shift copies, put it as a video or something, not as a playable demo! It's a fucking lightgun game, this is clearly made for a ps1 lightgun peripheral, but people are going to be playing this with a controller!

the crosshair is incredibly slow and it's VERY difficult to aim properly which is why i didnt get far, it's just... either someone is gonna not own a lightgun and see this and think its just shit, or own one and probably plan on getting it anyway, all that's needed here is a video feature showing it off, having it be playable is *a bad move*

this is likely a pretty good time crisis game! Most of the negative reviews I can see mention the beautifully crunchy graphics being bad so the gameplays probably fine, but by advertising it like this youre convincing people it isnt.

ANYWAY

this was disappointing lmfao

a fun trip down memory lane, but yeah none of these were really that fun at all. Thankfully, the PS2 demo disc I'm downloading has much more interesting titles. Will be doing the same thing with it when I can. I wrote this one over the course of a few hours, but that one will likely have more put into it.

If you read this far thank you very much lmao, and remember:

[littlemessyjessi]

Interested to know your thoughts on poly skz?

Hello, my love! I got you! So maybe we'll do this ships x reader style. Sound good?

Ok, so just a disclaimer before everyone gets up in their feelings. I obvs don't know SKZ and therefore I know nothing about their personal lives. I know some people have certain opinions about shipping but guys, this is fanfic. Therefore, we're already accepting that it's a fantasy. And obviously I'm just picking ships for the reactions. So for the antis... chiiiiiillllllll. Now, for the rest of you, welcome and I hope you enjoy. *kiss, kiss*

Now, that that's out of the way, let's begin!

So we're starting with MinSung (Minho and Jisung).. because I'm selfish, lol. I admittedly live and breathe for it.

So it probably started with you being Jisung's partner. And truthfully you ended up calling him out on his little crush on Minho eventually. I mean, come on. Poor Jisung. A blushy, stuttering mess. Eventually, he cracks because it's kind of obvious and also there's no way he can lie to you. He is BLOWN AWAY when you suggest that you're ok if he wants to experiment with Minho . He nearly dies when you tell him if it's something he wants to experiment with but if he's too nervous to do it alone, that you could have a threesome as long as Minho was comfortable with it. Honestly, he burst into fucking tears. It was just that he was overwhelmed. He had been scared that that was gonna be the end of you and then it turns out that you were not only completely accepting but also incredibly supportive. He almost proposed marriage right there.

Now, Minho, bless him, lol. 100% acted like he had no idea what you were talking about when you brought it up. Because you know, bunny is too fucking cool or whatever. HOWEVER. Like a month later, Mr. Bunny gets drunk off his ass and guess what? Straight up kisses you both. Poor Jisung is just left floundering but you smirk because you fucking called it.

I'd say it's a slow process in general. With both of them but if you're patient and reassuring then it transitions from occasional experimenting to a wonderfully loving and supportive relationship.

Next is ChangLix (Changbin and Felix)! Because guess what? I'm still being selfish, lol.

Now, here's the deal. Changbin and Felix are both cuddlebugs. And both are clingy AF. I say that in the best, most loving way. So honestly I can kinda see how someone would just be out with it ya know.

For example, Felix strikes me as the type of person that once he's in, HE'S IN. Ya know, the type of person to be completely candid with his partner.

So, I could easily see him being like, "Hey, baaaaabyyyyy. Can we invite Binnie over sometime to play?" Like, that kind of simple. And as if you would ever have the STRENGTH to say no to that face. Bish, please. DON'T even try.

Now, Changbin, as romantic, affectionate and loving as he is, he is also wicked smart. He's a logic man. So while he adores you and does feel safe enough to share things with you... he is also human and does feel the fear of things like rejection and pain. So I'd say he'd have a pretty good idea before he ever brought it up. He would have been paying attention to you and how you react to Felix. Which truthfully is very hard to get an actual reading on. Because Felix is adorable and lovable and easily charms most people. I mean, come on. Who doesn't instantly fall in love with that baby chicken? So Binnie would be watching and observing and only after he was sure that A, you loved him and would support him no matter what and B, might possibly be interested in Felix that way would he bring it up. He would be soft and comforting but also very direct- not mincing the words and getting to the point. When you simply kiss him and tell him that you love him and would love to go on this journey with him, every feeling he's ever had for you is just completely locked in place.

The relationship would actually blossom rather quickly and be one full of affection and love but also damn near unbreakable. Like the relationship between the three of you IS the force to be reckoned with... because nothing stands a chance of breaking it.

Next is HyunChan/ ChanJin (Hyungjin and Chan). (Pst. Still being selfish over here).

Now, look. You're gonna have to be the one to take the lead on this one. Because Hyunjin, even though he's dramatic as hell, is not gonna bring this up. Not happening. And Chan, even though he's Mr. Leader.... he's a shy baby when it comes to this.

So I hope you are prepared to spot, process, initiate and pretty much carry this whole situation in the beginning. Cause it's on you, love.

However, listen. Red Lights had a mood and it was easy to read if you take a certain look at it. Just saying.

So anyway, this probably starts with you as a friend and not dating either of them. Just an innocent bystander who can see the secret goo goo eyes they give each other.

You get sick of the lingering looks they keep giving each other and finally just tell them to date already.

What shocks you is when they reveal that they already are and have both been trying to work up the nerve to ask you to be their third.

And we end with JeongMin (Seungmin and Jeongin) which are my babies. I would defend them against the world.

So anyway.

With Seungmin, I could easily see this as him just simply asking you what you think about Jeongin joining you one night. Yes, he's adorable and yes he's got the puppy vibe but he strikes me as a man of directness. He's not rude. Just to the point and I feel like if he loves you then he's going to tell you if something has changed with him and he's interested in trying. Be grateful that he has shared this with you because that means he truly feels comfortable and it's a blessing that not only has he told you but that he wants to experience this with you by his side.

Now, baby bread. First of all, I am attacked by this man. Because damn it... he was all baby face what feels like SECONDS ago and now he's a whole ass man. And I struggle. But this is nothing new. I did it with Jungkook too. Regardless of the fact that that ho is actually OLDER than my fiance. But I digress.

Back to Jeongin. I feel he's gotta THINK about it. Like really think about it. He needs time to process what exactly he's feeling and when it hits him that he feels it for the both of you, he probably trips a little. But eventually I think he'd be the type to sit you both down and have a chat about it. After he's reassured, he is more than happy to continue and explore.

-

Hey loves! Thanks for checking out my work! For all kpop content check Masterlist 2.0 in my navi! Link in bio! Love, K 💋

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[weepinglevi]

patience is a virtue

summary: college!au. all aged up. eren and reader continue with their sexual escapades. find part one here! warnings: 18+ minors dni. dirty text messages, dirty talk. dom!eren and bratty reader (i suppose?). throat fucking and semi-public sex. (no p in v tho) word count: around 3.5k A/N: i have a love/hate relationship with this eren ahaha, he's been ruling my brainrot ever since the last part so i hope you enjoy! there will be a part three eventually, so be on the lookout for that! enjoy your read and feedback is greatly appreciated! xx

you awake to your phone vibrating somewhere next to you. the hope of it only being a one-time occurrence quickly proven to be false as it just wouldn't stop. brr-brr. a second of silence. brr-brr. pause. brr-brr.

taking a mental note to never go to sleep again without turning off your phone, you roll over to your other side and try to ignore it. you could simply answer the texts, but that meant you'd have to open your eyes. and that whoever was texting you would win this weird battle you've just come up with in your head.

"if you don't pick up your goddamn phone, i'll smack you over the head with it," sasha groans from the other side of your shared dorm, words coming slurry with her tiredness.

brr-brr.

"i could also stick it up your ass, your decision," a pillow comes flying to your head, serving as enough of a warning for you to sit up in your bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"quit moaning, i'll turn it off now," you yawn, feeling around your bed for your phone, "you never hear me complaining about the shit you do in the middle of the night."

"that's because my shit is funny and not fucking annoying," she scoffs, followed by a muted thump as she is sinking back down into her pillows. sasha's way of ending the conversation.

you find your phone half-tucked underneath your pillow, the display already lighting up again. someone is desperate for attention, you think to yourself and unlock your phone with an annoyed sigh. the messages were coming from an unknown number.

thinking about your wet pussy. this is eren, btw. historia gave me your number. i told her you wouldn't mind you don't mind, do you?

in a matter of seconds, your heart is beating in your throat once more, just like this afternoon in that godforsaken computer lab. ears growing hot at his words, you could almost imagine the sound of him laughing at you again. with trembling fingers, you scroll down further.

anyway, let's do it again sometime i told you. i'll never let you forget about how you moaned my name i'm also not forgetting about how badly i want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours, so it's a win-win see ya, then

staring down at your phone, you don't know if you should answer him. and even if you would answer his texts, what the hell should you say? "fucking bastard," the words escaping your mouth before even realizing that you'd better keep quiet. the only thing that could make this situation any worse was if sasha were to wake up again.

scratch that, you think as you see eren's new messages.

how badly do you want to suck my cock? you looked really hot today, covered in my cum what, you're shy again?

there are two ways this could go: either you stand up, put on some clothes, and then go to eren's dorm to let hell rain upon him - or simply mute your phone and ignore him. deciding to go with the latter, you lie back down and save his number as "fuckhead", a small grin forming on your face. if he wants to be childish, then you can be, too.

the display still lighting up at a steady pace, you have to fight the urge to open his other messages. to physically prevent yourself from grabbing your phone again, you put your hands between your thighs and sigh. what the hell have i gotten myself into?

"so, who am i gonna have to teach some manners today?", sasha asks in the morning, "because there are only two valid reasons for sending that many texts in the middle of the night," she sits up in her bed and bends over to reach for her phone, "either someone's dead or there's a food sale."

cringing at the thought of having to read the countless other messages eren has sent throughout the night, you try to laugh at her comment, "of course, when there's food involved, you're all for it."

"girl's gotta eat," she claims, thankfully being too distracted by something on her phone to notice your strange behavior, "i'm gonna be back later than usual today, connie wants me to be his wingman again."

starting to go off on a tangent about how connie should just get a dating app already, sasha's words become more of background noise to you. you want to know what he wrote. what he has in store for you. at the same time, you curse yourself out. you're turning into a headless chicken and all of it because of eren fucking yeager?

you nod here and there, offering her a "yes" at what you believe to be fitting moments, desperately hoping she doesn't catch up on your restlessness. all the while the two of you are getting ready for the day. this goes on for a few more minutes and you have no clue what she's talking about now, so you decide to grab your phone and stand up.

"i'm gonna go for a run around campus, you want coffee?" you blurt out, interrupting her monologue. the device in your hand feels as if it's burning through your skin. slipping into your trainers, you're already halfway out the room, her perplexed "uh- yes, please," being muffled by the door closing behind you.

it's still warm outside - not as hot as yesterday, but warm enough for you to be glad to have forgotten your cardigan earlier. you let out a deep breath, trying to clear your mind. even though you told sasha you'd be out for a run, you walk at a slow pace.

some people are already wandering around campus, most of them on their way to a lecture. at this time in the morning, everyone has their heads full with their own worries so no one notices you slowly making your way off-campus.

arriving at a little park surrounded by trees, you sit down on the bench farest off. you notice your heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird when pulling the phone out of your back pocket. fuck him, you think once again while typing in your code. fuck him for making me feel this way.

12 unread messages.

didn't seem all too shy when i had my hand wrapped around your throat no need to play hard to get when i already had you if that makes sense? haven't fucked you yet doesn't mean i won't get to fuck you

all you want is to feel appalled by these messages. to screenshot them and send them to the dean. maybe even to his mother. sickened with yourself though, you already feel the familiar warmth creeping up your body, curling up in your abdomen.

i know you want it, too how fucking needy you were for me getting yourself off in public to the thought of me maybe you can tell me what exactly you were thinking of? gonna make sure to let your dreams come true, princess

pet names? you clench your fist at the thought of eren leaning over you, breathing the word princess into your ear. you have an inkling that he'd say it mockingly; spitting it out whilst gathering your hair in a ponytail, arching your back forcefully, and slamming his length into you without mercy.

no. you hate pet names. at least, you've always hated them.

i'm gonna find out if you're ignoring me right now remember, you're not the best actress. fucking suck at it, actually wouldn't want to be punished now, would we?

his last message echoed in your head. still coming to terms with the fact of what happened yesterday, now you have to deal with a whole new revelation: eren yeager being a cocky motherfucker pushing all the right buttons for you. even though you want to blast his ass for this, the mere thought of him being near you again is too sweet of an imagination.

you want to play this game, too. for whatever reason keep on riding this high, and you just know that no one could do it quite as well as eren can. somehow you can only imagine taking him on this ride with you, no one else.

so, in that manner you decide to ignore his messages. if he's desperate enough to keep on sending them in the middle of the night, you're sure it won't be long until he sends another text. and it would give him enough reason to try and punish you, whatever that might entail – you're excited to find out. fucking nervous, too. but then again, who wouldn't be?

you stand up and put your phone in your back pocket, a sense of excitement surrounding your steps as you turn left to make your way to the nearest coffee shop.

"something tells me you're ignoring me," of course, the moment eren's voice comes up behind you, you fucking flinch like a little bird that's been scared away, "mostly because i've seen you reading the messages, but what do i know?"

you turn to see him clutching his heart dramatically, "don't play with my feelings like this," he swoons, bringing one hand to his forehead. he's laughing again, all white teeth and bright smiles – you realize this is the kind of eren you rarely get to see. not the cocky bastard he normally portrays; right now, he seems to be a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, just enjoying himself. still, you want to show him that you can play just as well as he can.

crossing your arms in front of your chest, you slightly raise a brow, trying your hardest to not look as nervous as you feel. it's a lost cause though because you can already feel the tips of your ears glowing with heat again. can't things go my way for once? just once? you think and chew the inside of your cheek. you felt so sure of yourself just moments ago. how the hell can he have this sort of effect on you?

suddenly, his whole demeanor changes. before, he seemed laid-back, entertained by the game he played with you. now he leans forward, hands in the pockets of his jacket and an almost cruel smile forming on his lips, "don't try to challenge me in this. you'll lose."

you know that you should feel frightened. terrified, even. he's looking like a lion preparing to jump the antelope, a sense of alarming calmness around him that's causing the small hairs on your neck to stand up. but alas, the way he's looking at you seems to have the same effect on you his scent has.

"i told you not to ignore me," eren says and takes a few steps closer to you, "yet here you are, doing it again." the chuckle leaving his lips a stark contrast to his stern gaze, still trained on you. somehow, you feel awfully small again - still not frightened, though. you stare right back at him, tilting your head slightly as if you wanted to say "so what?"

"are you seriously that desperate to be punished?"

better now than never, you think and once again place a courtly smile on your lips, "seems like it."

for a split second, you see eren's smug look turn into a genuine smile. realizing that you're up for his game, he lets out a smooth whistle, "you do surprise me."

"if you wouldn't always be so full of yourself, i'm sure you'd have recognized this sooner," you can feel the confidence growing in yourself again. clinging on to it, you take a step toward him, "i'm full of surprises."

"oh, yeah? i bet you are," from the corner of your eye, you can see him lifting his hand. before thinking twice about it, you bat it away, "i'm not one for public displays of affection."

oh, it is on– eren's smirk turns into a full-fledged grin as he takes a grip of your wrist, "you sure about that?" lifting your hand to his face, for a short moment you think he's going to suck on your fingers again. but all he does is place a faint kiss on the back of your hand, "didn't seem like it yesterday."

"you weren't supposed to see."

"but i'm so glad i did," he leans forward, the two of you standing so close you can feel his breath on your face, "or else we wouldn't have this kind of fun right now."

still having a hold of your hand, he lifts his other to your jaw, gently tracing his thumb across your lower lip, "you looked so pretty in your skirt yesterday."

taking a leap of faith, you grab his hand, holding it in place and letting your tongue run across the tip of his thumb before biting down playfully. there's a hiss and then eren pulls away and grabs your arm, "come with me."

finally, you think and let him guide you to wherever he wants, let's have some fun, then.

on your way out of the park, you pass jean and marco. even though they stand to greet eren, he just raises his hand whilst not breaking his pace, "gotta go, have an assignment to work on."

"never seen you that determined, but go off," jean laughs.

before you know it, you're inside one of the countless maintenance sheds. pushing you against the wall, eren's movements seem to become more and more erratic by the second. pinning your arms over your head, he's looking down at you, breathing heavily. "you have no idea what you just got yourself into," licking his lips, he chuckles.

"oh, but i think i actually do," you smile innocently, fucking glad to have found your normal self again. admittedly, eren threw you off your game since yesterday – but it's just going to play into your hands now. he won't see it coming until it's hitting him straight in the face; that you're just as messed up as he seems to be.

"then prove it," he breathes against your ear, "tell me how badly you want it."

the stuffy air inside the dimly lit shed doesn't help with keeping eren's scent away from you. being so close to him, looking up into his shadowed face and right into his dilated eyes; you're like putty in his hands. you try to move forward, to touch him in some way because you just know that he'll feel so good under your skin.

"now now, princess," he moves even closer, wedging you between himself and the wall, "how about we learn some patience, first?"

you nod, but then grind up against his thigh, hissing through your teeth, "i worry i'll be a real handful." you know you could very well move your hands, too – eren seems to still be testing the waters as to how far he can go with you. but with him actually letting you grind on him; you decide to play into his hands.

your breaths grow quicker as you keep on, pace becoming erratic. all you want is to get rid of your track pants – come to think of it, what you actually want is eren under you whilst you continuously bounce on his cock. you want to hear him call you princess and immediately after call you his little whore because that's exactly what you are.

eren has a little smile on his lips and you know you should ask yourself why – because you're doing exactly what he has forbidden you to do – but you're too far gone. the heat growing, you feel your knees buckle but he's holding you up; one hand now resting on your waist for support. you're so close –

and then he pulls away from you, nearly causing you to topple over. chest heaving, you place your hands on your knees for balance, "what the fuck was – "

"patience is a virtue," interrupting you with a laugh, but his voice heavy with lust, "thought i might give you a lesson you're ought to remember."

you look up to see eren palming his erection through his pants, standing about an arm's length away from you, "but i have to admit, hearing you getting yourself off is fucking hot."

biting your teeth together, you straighten up and take a step toward him – only for him to click his tongue in disapproval, "you're gonna stay right there," tugging at his pants he raises his eyebrow, "i told you what i want, get on your knees for me."

"the fuck i will," you spit out and make a move again, grasping for his waistband. but eren is quick to take a hold of your hand and pushes you back to the wall, "come on, now, princess," he chuckles but his eyes are concentrated at you, "you want this, don't you?". he's asking for permission, the thought feeling very comforting to you. and also, very excited for what's about to come.

"of course, i do," you answer him earnestly, resting the back of your head against the wall, "or else i wouldn't be here."

"fantastic," he breathes, a little smile playing in the corners of his mouth, "then get down on your knees," placing his hands on your shoulders, weighing you down, "i won't ask again."

the change of tone in his voice has you nodding, slowly sinking onto your knees, you're bursting in anticipation. one hand finally pulling down his pants, he runs his other through your hair, then down your jaw until it comes to rest on your chin.

thumbing at your lower lip, he groans "do i have to be careful?"

you just shake your head no. then you break away from his gaze, fixing your eyes on the bobbing cock in front of you. it's tip leaking with precum already, you remember how badly you wanted to lick it away yesterday.

taking his cock at its base, you bend forward and slide your tongue around its head. the salty taste sending shudders down your spine, you make sure to lift your eyes again once you prepare to take it all down your throat. your other hand snakes up to his balls, slightly tugging them which earns you a moan from eren, and fuck, you're so wet at the sound alone, you let go of his cock and slide one hand down to your own center.

he gathers your hair in one hand, taking the base of his throbbing cock in the other, "bet this is what you thought of yesterday," he slowly but surely pulls your head in closer, "of how i fuck the words right out of you."

bucking your hips into your own hand, you can do nothing but whimper at his words. because yes, this is exactly what you imagined. he's only halfway in and you're already struggling to breathe, but not wanting him to stop you hold your breath and push down even further; trying desperately not to moan.

the tears in your eyes causing your vision to be blurry, you attempt to blink them away.

"shit – ", he's pumping into you now, rubbing the tears from your cheeks and then placing both his hands on your head, "you're doing so well – "

getting lost in his words, the fear of being caught is so far away; you finally moan around his cock. saliva soaking the hem of his shirt, you can't seem to take his whole length, no matter how hard you try. you're a fucking mess under him and the thought alone is nearly sending you over the edge.

he's trying to pull away now and you know he's close, so you snake your hand around his hip, hoping this is enough of a sign to him that if he dared to cum anywhere else than down your throat, you'd bite him.

"you really – " his voice is hoarse, "fuck – this is fucking perfect," he moans as he comes to the realization. leaning his arm against the wall behind you, he's fucking himself into your mouth, his panting and the sound of your choking filling the room.

you close your eyes to blink the tears away again, but eren pulls on your hair, "no – look at me."

with this the knot in your belly explodes, leaving you holding on to eren's hip as you ride the waves of electricity that are running through your body like lava.

"such a good little whore – " he's gone as well, holding your head in place as he's pumping his load down your throat, leaving you no other option than to swallow – which you eagerly do. you feel his legs shaking under your hands.

once again, eren hands you his shirt to clean your face. this time, you take it with a smile, noting that, "i still have your other one."

"don't worry, i'll come get it sometime when sasha's away," the two of you know exactly what this means – neither of you are planning on this to be over anytime soon.

"i'll let you know, then," you nod and stand up, hoping you don't look as well-fucked as you feel, and make your way to the door, "she's gone most of the time."

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[bastillewolf]

Hey I know you probably have like a billion requests already but maybe you could do something where the reader is good friends with corpse (maybe with some unspoken feelings) and they ask him to visit their country side home lmao-

I'm really embarrassed about asking this and I know it sounds strange but being out in the country side can be really good for mental health and I just want this boi to heal--

I'm so sorry hahah

Thanks

That’s not strange at all, darling!! I love this ask! I’m so sorry it took me so long to answer this, my mental health hasn’t been very good lately. I suppose I found this ask rather appropriate and I guess that’s why I liked writing it so much. Hope you enjoy!

Sunrise, Sunset - Oneshot

Pairings: Corpse Husband / Reader.

“Yo,” is the first thing you hear as you open your Discord. It’s not his regular greeting, and he sounds more tired than usual.

“What’s up?” you asked curiously. “Everything okay? Haven’t talked to you in a while.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I got really busy.”

“I can tell from your voice,” you chuckled. It had more of a rasp to it- if that was even possible.

“Yea, I can’t do too much for too long. I love that I’m able to work on music now, but it exhausts my voice so much that I can’t even stream sometimes.”

“Maybe you should take a break,” you comment.

“Probably. It’s almost done, so then I can stream more,” he replies.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Hm?”

“I’m talking about an actual break, from everything.”

You hear him exhale deeply as if he’d already been considering it himself. “That does sound very nice.”

“I know, I always have the best ideas.”

“You do, except you forgot about the fact that I can’t really go anywhere. I mean, I’d love to take a break, but if I just sit here at home, I’m gonna either end up doing nothing or start working anyways. I don’t see me relaxing that way.”

“I didn’t forget about anything; I just hadn’t gotten to that part yet.”

“Oh?”

You’d be lying if you said that noise didn’t make you blush. “Remember how I said I live in the countryside? You know, it’s quite cosy here, and I have a guest bedroom to spare. If you want, but only if you’re comfortable with it, you could come over.”

It was quiet for a moment and your poor nerves were wondering if you’d said something completely wrong. You knew how he was about his privacy, but you’d figured that having known each other for a more than a few months now, you’d be at a point where you’d become actual friends, especially considering you always talked over Discord. At least, when he wasn’t busy.

“I... You wouldn’t mind?” he asked softly.

“Of course not!” You immediately replied, trying your best to make him feel as welcome as possible. “It’ll be so much fun! I was just worried you wouldn’t feel comfortable with it, otherwise, I would’ve invited you over a lot sooner.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Yes! I’m always looking for people to take care of my chickens.”

“You have chickens?” he sputtered.

“Sure do. And that was a joke, by the way.”

He didn’t really give you much time to prepare. He’d instantly asked if he could come over in two days, which meant you had to clean, do the groceries, and have another mental breakdown within that short time.

When he did arrive at your relatively small but homely cottage, you knew that even if you’d had more time, you still wouldn’t have felt like you’d prepared enough. You were incredibly nervous, especially as the cab slowed to a nerve-wracking speed until it finally stopped in front of your little wooden fence that really couldn’t keep anyone out of your garden because it was so ramshackle.

You nod your head to the driver politely, who got out of the car to unload a bag from the trunk. Then, the door opened, ringed fingers sliding across the yellow polish on the metal framing. He pulled himself up and out, finally allowing you to take a good look at his face.

His hair was dark and curly, as to be expected from what you’d seen in the pictures, though you could barely see it underneath the hood he’d pulled up. His dark brown eyes immediately found yours, and a shy smile graced his lips, which you bashfully returned with a small wave. It made you want to hit yourself multiple times. He paid the cabby and thanked him, allowing you to take a good look at his attire, at his frame, at his whole being. He was wearing a black hoodie with some chains around it, along with dark baggy trousers and, go figure, black sneakers. He was slightly slouching, probably so the driver wouldn’t be able to make out his face in its entirety, but overall he looked lean, even while his face was more pale and tired, with dark circles surrounding his eyes.

He locked the creaky wooden fence behind him, quickly closing the distance between you two with only a few strides. He dropped his backpack on the floor, saying, “hi.” “Hey,” you replied with that stupid smile still on your face and now quite possibly a hint of red dusting your cheeks. He just chuckled at the slight awkwardness of the situation, before wrapping his arms around you in a warm hug. He smelled like nice cologne, and he gave really good hugs. It said a lot that you could tell that from just the one. “Thanks for letting me come over,” he muttered, finally allowing himself to sound as exhausted as he looked.

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

When you met his eyes again as he pulled back, you knew he was quietly telling you that it meant more to him than that. Feeling shy under his dark gaze, you shook your head, saying, “Come on, let me show you around.”

It wasn’t that big of a tour, but it was home and it was comfortable, so you never felt embarrassed about it. You made enough money, to be fair, from your career through YouTube, but you’d never really had the heart to leave the house. At least you had a guest bedroom, and the garden was something to dream of. To trade that in for a bit more storage space would be such a pity.

“-and this is going to be your room, for however long you wish to stay,” you finish with a flourish of your hand. He set his suitcase down on the freshly made bed and nodded, glancing around for a bit before his eyes landed back on you. “Did I tell you how much I appreciate you doing this for me?”

You huff, “Once or twice now.”

“I’ll be off your back in a few days, don’t worry. I think I just needed to get out of my stuffy apartment for a bit.”

“Stay as long as you’d like,” you told him assuredly, “I know how stressful it can be and I haven’t even been through what you have. I can’t imagine what it must be like.”

He shrugs, “I have my ups and downs. It’s mostly my health issues and anxiety holding me back.”

“Well, I hope you can relax a bit here, then. People seem to feel more at ease without a bustling city around them,” you said.

He glanced out the window and nodded. “Yeah, I immediately noticed it as I got out of the car. It’s so... quiet here. And the air, of course. It’s so much nicer.”

“I usually take walks in the early mornings. You should come along sometime if you’d like. The sunrise is always really pretty when you get up on the hill.”

The corners of his lips quirked up. “I’d like that.”

“Great,” you replied, clapping your hands together, “I’ll let you get settled and start dinner. The uh- the bathroom is shared, I left a stack of towels on the rack so you can use those.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

You nodded shyly, silently closing the door behind you as you stepped into the hall. You let out a deep sigh and leaned back against the wall, pressing the backs of your hands against your cheek in a vain attempt to cool down the heat and tone down the redness. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d reacted this way but the times you’d spend talking about everything and nothing with Corpse through Discord calls that lasted until the early mornings. You knew you shouldn’t be feeling this way. You didn’t want to risk the friendship you had with him, but the tingling that had sprouted in your gut the moment he’d gotten out of that car told you that this was going to be hard.

 You knocked on his door quietly, afraid you were accidentally going to wake him when he didn’t want to be awoken. You didn’t know what kind of morning person he’d be, but he told you yesterday that he wanted to join you for your walk today. And while you were going to leave half an hour later than usual because it took you that long to work up the courage to knock on his door, meaning you were going to have to hurry a bit to catch the sun rising, you were still scared he was going to react grouchily. But when he opened the door, already dressed and ready to go, you realized you’d foolishly forgotten that this wasn’t just anyone, but that this was one of your friends; someone you already knew, even if it hadn’t been physically. Of course, he’d open the door with a smile, even though he looked more tired than the day before, which worried you.

“How did you sleep?” You made it evident in your tone that you were rather scared to ask the question, but it made him chuckle.

“I think you already know the answer to that. I don’t sleep well in general, so don’t worry. It has nothing to do with the bed or your hospitality.”

“Well, if there’s anything I can do for you, I don’t mind being woken up.”

He shook his head as he followed you downstairs and out the front door. “To be fair, I slept more than I usually would, but your rooster woke me up.”

You laughed, “Yea, I’m sorry, but I can’t do anything about that.” You held the wooden fence gate open for him, following him to the grass field until you were walking next to him. You silently picked up your pace a bit, worrying that you might miss the sunrise when you had promised it to him.

“I know, I know,” he replied amusedly, “Can we go see them later? The chickens?”

“Sure,” you smiled, “I also have a few ducks. You’ll love them, they’ll try to rip the shoelaces from your feet.”

“Sounds great.”

The walk to the hill wasn’t too far, but the hill was quite steep, which was always an exercise for people who walked with you for the first time, so you’d figured he’d start trailing behind you after some time. Thing is, he started trailing behind relatively earlier than you had expected him to.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you called out, “you good? We’re almost there.”

He nodded, though you could see him slightly panting, and you turned around to jog up the last bit until you reached the top. You could see a sliver of light start to peek over the horizon, making you glance back to see how far away he was.

But instead of having moved forward, he was now sort of slouched over, holding his stomach as he panted loudly. “Shit,” you cursed yourself as you sprinted back down until you skidded to a stop in front of him. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I should have slowed down-“

“It’s fine,” he waved you off, slowly catching his breath. “I can do it, I just take a bit longer.”

“I’ll carry you if I have to. I got us into this mess.”

He chuckled, but it sounded a bit hoarse.

“Come on,” you said. He furrowed his brow in confusion but followed you anyway. Walking along the side of the hill was tricky, but you made it around without any issues. He was able to keep up this time and gratefully plopped down on the grass beside you, just in time to watch the sun fully appear from behind the horizon.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

“Yea, it never really gets old.” You laid down, feeling twigs of grass tickle the bareback of your neck.

He joined you, scooting a bit closer until your arms were brushing against each other. You couldn’t tell if he’d done it on purpose, so you acted like it hadn’t affected you, keeping your eyes fixed on the sky above you. At least, you tried. They flickered when you felt fingertips graze across your lower arm until they reached your palm, where his nails slowly dragged along your skin until his warm digits intertwined with yours. His rings felt cool against the heat and tingling you were suddenly feeling in your hand. He didn’t let go of you, not as you laid there for what seemed like hours, nor during the entire walk back.

‘Is this what friends do?’ you were silently asking yourself, watching the ducks try to free his shoes from its laces, ‘is this what friends do when they need support? Is this his way of coping, or is it-‘ You quickly shook the thought away. Of course, he wouldn’t think of you that way. He probably did stuff like this with all his friends. You knew how playful he could get, his guy friends included.

Yeah, it was just that. It had to be.

You were both laid back on the couch that night, stuffed to the brink with the famous lasagne you’d put together. The TV was on, but it sounded more like static noise in the background. “I think I can just fall asleep right here,” you hummed. The glass of red wine you’d shared – because neither of you could handle liquor – had created a pleasant buzz between the two of you.

“That seems a lot less comfortable than your bed.”

“You don’t know a thing about my bed,” you huffed indignantly.

It was quiet for a moment then, a sliver of tension seeping through the warmth of your home. “I think it’s probably about as comfortable as mine, otherwise you’re treating your guests too much,” he replied.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “I’ve actually never slept in the guest bedroom. I might just be treating my guests too much and I’d never even know about it.”

He suddenly sat up and turned the TV off. “Come on,” he said and was already up the stairs by the time you’d made an attempt to move.

When finally reached the upstairs and were about to round the corner, you were suddenly picked up and slung over his shoulder, causing you to let out a loud shriek. “Corpse!” you laughed, “Please put me down!”

“You were taking too long,” he grumbled, dropping you down on the bed unceremoniously. He shuffled over until he was laying down next to you and lifted the covers up until it reached your neck.

“So?” he asked.

You had your eyes closed. “I might be treating my guests too much.”

He snorted. “Fucking knew it,” which made you laugh.

You laid there for quite a while, not really caring if either of you fell asleep with your regular clothes still on. “Hey Corpse?”

He hummed.

“I’m really glad you came. It gets lonely over here sometimes.”

He shifted, but because it was so dark you couldn’t really see what he was doing. Suddenly though, you felt him hovering over you, his elbows resting on either side of your face as his hand reached across to move a strand of hair to the side. He leaned down and hesitantly, his lips barely touched yours, a silent question if this was okay. You moved back against him, your hand finding his cheek in the darkness. His kisses were gentle, but passionate, which made your breaths heavier and deeper. When you pulled apart, you were both breathing heavily, mostly from the tension that had arisen.

“I really like you,” you admitted.

“Good,” he replied, wrapping his arms around you until you were tucked against his chest. You hit his arm playfully, “Cocky bastard.”

You hear the smirk in his voice as he said goodnight.

TAG LIST CLOSED!

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[rogue-durin-16]

HIS WARM EYES

Summary: Some members of the Order are reticent about letting in a Lestrange, specially after Snape's betrayal. Whilst taking Harry to the the burrow, an ambush has place. Everything points to Y/n, right?

Pairing: George Weasley x Slytherin!Lestrange!Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

George Weasley: @meph1stophelian

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @skarlettmikaelson

Warnings: blood, injuries, death

A/N: OH MY GOD THIS IS SO LONG AND BAD— I AM GENUINELY SORRY BUT I HAD TO

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Lestrange wasn't a good name.

It wasn't a good name in the streets, nor in close-doors, let alone amongst The Order.

That's why I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that they had accepted me— well, maybe 'accepted' was a strong word; they had let me in, reticent, weary, but still they had done it. Plus, after Snape's betrayal and Dumbledore's death, no one would think there was a vacant for a Slytherin and a Lestrange.

It wasn't until I found myself exiting the abandoned Grimauld's Place along with the rest of the volunteers to go to Privet Drive, that it dawned on me; they were short on people.

They were so short on people that the Order would have to swallow my name, my family and my House.

That didn't mean they would quiet down their opinions about me being there.

"I'm gonna say it." Fred announced, taking a spot in the living room's corner while Shacklebolt, Arthur and Lupin searched the place.

"Again?" Fleur groaned.

Fred had already spoken his mind about my presence before we reached Potter's house.

His and George's shocked looks had been on me since the very first moment I had walked into the old Black's home, which was understandable; last time they saw me I was joking about joining the death eaters.

Although the shock on their faces had been accompanied by very different emotions on each.

Fred's held reticence. During our school years, he had never liked me; I would dare to say he was scared of me, even.

George's gaze, on the other hand, held hope —maybe even excitement— which was comforting.

In our first year, I had managed to draw George's interest, and for three years he was adamant about Slytherins not being 'all that bad'.

George's friendship was the thread I was hanging on; he was the only thing stopping from taking the easy way and live up to my name.

The thread was cut after he asked his mother to bring me over during Christmas, which ended up in her forbidding him to talk to me. He, being George Weasley, ignored his mom's pleads and twin's scolding and still tried his best to stay close to me, so I did what was right and, at the end of our fifth year, I cut ties with him.

It hurt more than I would dare to admit.

After our drifting apart, I was forced to completely rely on Slytherins. And you see, Slytherins, as 11 year-old George would say, aren't all that bad, but the ones my name attracted were.

They were bad sort —the worst—, and keeping that company around after our sixth year wasn't the best record to have, but Merlin's sake, I was there, I had volunteered— people change.

"Son." His father warned Fred, well aware this wasn't the time, though he obviously wanted to side with him. "Don't start again."

"Someone has yet to tell me why is she here?"

"She has a name." I hissed, unable to stop myself.

"Which is why you shouldn't be here, Lestrange." The name rolled out of his tongue like poison. "She's not one to trust."

"Oi, she's willing to risk her life, isn't she?" George's words seemed to be meant to calm his twin's temper, though his warm eyes did land on mines with a reassuring look.

"Yeah but for whom?" I tried to stay quiet as Moody had asked me too, but Fred was making it quite difficult. "If something goes wrong—"

"Weasley!" Mad-eye's tone was dry as he bursted into the room. "Are you questioning my judgment?" Fred scoffed, but stayed quiet.

"If we're throwing in the surnames, you're gonna wanna know her mum's my auntie." Tonks spoke, folding her arms.

"But you're a Hufflepuff." He was quick to respond, giving me a disgusted look. "She's a Serpent."

"And you're still a mouthful, aren't you?!" I snapped, stepping forward, though Tonks gave me a lazy tug before I could get to Fred.

"Wanna fight, Lestrange?" He had taken a couple of steps in my direction already when George yanked his twins arm.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He yelled, giving his brother a push. "She's here for Harry! She's helping! What else do you want?!"

"Oh my gosh, Georgie— get over your teen crush already, she's not on our team!" George's knuckles went visibly white, unlike his cheeks, which turned red.

"Are you done making a scene? The three of you." Bill questioned in a calm tone, resting against the window's bench. "I don't fancy the idea either, but we need help, Fred, so shut your mouth because we have things to do."

"Pity, I was enjoying the teen drama." Moody teased before grabbing his flask and the ones who would take the Polyjuice potion moved to stand in line.

"Y/n." George's hand brushed my hand, drawing my attention to him as we stood besides one another. "I'm glad you're here." He whispered with a side smile.

"Missed me much?" I couldn't help but grin back, bumping his arm with mine. I stole a proper look at him and thought I might as well ask before the mission. "So... Teen crush huh?" I wiggled my eyebrows at him, though I could feel my own face flushing.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't fancy George —could someone blame me?—, and the idea of those feelings not being unrequited was very appealing.

He only threw his head back and looked away, the half smile growing wider and more bashful. "We'll talk about it at the Burrow." He assured me, taking the flask with his right hand and squeezing mine with his left.

"If we don't die before that." I was joking, but fear was shaking me to the core.

"We won't." He looked at the potion disgusted and gave me a peeked at me saying, "You have to hear me embarrass myself first." And with a wink, he drank the potion and passed it to me.

Gosh, I couldn't get over the mission to hear him 'embarrass' himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

The first five minutes were calm, despite all of us being on edge. We kept checking on each other, dreading if we lost sight of someone, that someone would banish.

The storm came when we had to dive into the dark clouds.

Funnily enough, I did think it was a literal storm before entering; oh, what I would have given for it to be a literal storm.

Black, cloaked intruders flew among us, making us divide in the pairs we had been assigned to.

Lupin started casting protegos and hexes to everyone that got too close while I tried to take down as many enemies as possible.

A couple of yelled warnings were heard when both Moody and the real Harry had entered the ambush.

"WATCH OUT!" Tonks screamed, flying past me with Ron at her tail. "REMUS!" She made a signal to her husband "ESCORT!" I got the hint; we were supposed to clear Moody's and Y/n's way so it would confuse our attackers while Tonks and Shacklebolt made sure to get Harry out of there.

"ON MY LEFT!" Lupin shouted over the chaos, changing to my right for me to be by Y/n's side.

"WE'RE FUCKED!" She yelled dropping her flight to dodge an Avada Kedavra.

"WE'LL MANAGE!" I automatically dropped my flight with hers too, which was a bad decision, since we had gotten rid of the protection provided by Lupin, Mad-eye and Bill and Fleur.

Soon enough three death eaters came flying towards us.

"STUPEFY!" another Harry with the voice of Fred passed by us, closely followed by my dad.

"GO BACK UP!" Y/n was quicker than me following my father's instructions; when I did though, I realised the little formation we had going on was gone.

Suddenly, all we could hear were screams; it felt as if someone was missing but I blamed it on everyone flying around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Tonks almost crashed against me on her way down; Ron was nowhere near me, nor Lupin.

We were outnumbered, and instead of moving forward, we were stuck in the grey clouds, trying not to die.

It took me a hot second, a crash against a death eater and a couple of hexes to get to Lupin, and even when I did, it was a hard task to keep track of him.

I had just taken out someone in my way when I caught a glimpse of something my eyes refused to believe.

Snape.

Our bloody professor was trying to kill us.

I felt the need to laugh at the situation.

"GEORGE!" It was Y/n's voice snapping me out of it, although her actions shocked me even more.

Y/n casted a spell on me, pushing my broomstick to the left and consequently making me crash against Lupin and lose balance.

Then something happened, something my mind didn't quite process.

At first it felt like a slap, but the pain stung my side as if someone had sliced me with a blade.

I didn't hear my own cry, nor Lupin's desperate 'help'; I didn't feel his hands struggling to take a firm hold of me, nor my own shakily reaching to my side, searching for an injury I didn't want to find.

A second after that, everything was black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRED'S P. O. V.

As soon as my father and I apparated in the fields of our home, I ran into the house. For some unexplainable reason, it felt as if something wasn't right.

A couple of steps into the house were enough for that 'something' to strike me. George had been laid on the settee, barely conscious; blood was covering the side of his face, neck and left shoulder, making his hair and clothes stick to his skin.

I was left speechless at the sight, my eyes welling up while I dragged my feet towards my twin.

"Mad-Eye is dead." Bill's words, despite sounding far away, made the gears in my head turn.

Lupin was quicker than me, though, "I told you we couldn't trust a Lestrange!"

"Remus! we don't know—" Tonks tried to calm him down, just to be cut off by Bill.

"Mad-Eye and Lestrange traveled between us and" he gestured at our wounded brother, "Remus and George." His jaw twitching let me know that he was desperately trying to stay calm. "Mad-Eye is dead and my brother just lost an ear, who is it if not bloody Lestrange, Dora?"

"Bill..." Fleur held onto her fiance's arm in an attempt to ground him.

"Did you see her disapparating?" Tonks's point was logical and hopeful.

George would have sided with her.

My eyes fixed on my wounded twin again. He was as pale as a corpse now, and the absence of his ear was way more noticeable now that my mother had begun to remove the blood.

George would have sided with Tonks because he wanted to trust Y/n, and he couldn't even speak because of that same reason.

Since everyone was arguing, they missed the flash of someone apparating near the front door.

I didn't.

Before I knew it, I was running outside with my wand in hand, Lupin and Bill following me instantly when they realised what I had just seen.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Y/n's wand flew to my hand even before I could properly see her.

My rushed march came to a halt when I was a couple of feet away from her, making Bill bump into me; she was as pale as George, maybe more.

She took a seemingly calm, deep breath before attempting to walk.

Luckily, I saw the pools of blood on her shirt and stepped to reach her before she could touch the ground.

"Oh my..." Lupin covered his mouth with both his hands and Bill stood frozen at the sight of the girl in my arms. "MOLLY!!" my old professor yelled at the top of his lungs, going as livid as me.

We shouldn't talk on impulse, I told myself, rushing into the kitchen with Y/n in my arms. A series of gasps and regretful whispers broke the silence while I laid her on the dining table.

"Y/n?" George's trembling voice was heartbreaking, and, as my dad forced him to stay on the couch, I prayed the girl in my arms would survive.

"Oh Lord..." My mother muttered, examining her. It wasn't only her shirt stained with blood; her left leg and arm were too. "Oh dear..."

"She took the blow." Lupin ran his hands through his hair, understandably stressed. After a couple of seconds, her turned to my dad and commanded, "Get him up. Quick— go get him up." His eyes stared right into my soul and I dreaded the worst, but still obeyed and helped my dad drag George to the dining table.

I heard Lupin telling Bill something about Sectumsempra, and my heart sunk.

She took the blow.

"No..." George's murmur was close to a cry, but it was enough for Y/n's eyes to snap open.

"George." tears were effortlessly streaming down her cheeks at the sight of him. "You're... A-alive..."

"Please stay" My brother fell on his knees, reaching for Y/n's bloody hand with his own. We all looked away to give them some kind of intimacy, except from my mother, who was still trying to fix the poor girl.

I heard them both whispering sweet nothings with shattered voices until only one of them died out. I looked over to Tonks, whose eyes were gleaming with tears, and then to Lupin.

I couldn't bring myself to look at George.

After a moment of intense sobbing, my dad managed to pull my twin away from the corpse, and we carried him back to the settee.

I stayed with him the night, holding his hand and assuring him it was not his fault, but I knew my words would have little effect on his state; after all, he had been in love with Y/n for years.

All those years he had spent trying to convince all of us that Y/n was a good person, that we should give her a chance; all those years begging our mother to bring her over because she wanted to see our home.

Now her body was lying on our kitchen and I knew none of us would forgive ourselves for misjudging her.

READER'S P. O. V.

"Nervous?" A tall, redheaded kid appeared besides me; I supposed he didn't know my name by the warmth and curiosity with which his eyes stared at me.

"Aren't we all?" I replied with an anxious laugh.

He seemed to think for a moment before nodding. "Fair point, though I'll probably go into Gryffindor." He assured me with a proud smile, causing my head to cast down. "What is it?"

"Oh nothing," I shrugged, aware I would not be able to befriend that sweet boy with warm eyes. "I think I'll be sorted into Slytherin."

"Nonsense!" His intentions had been obviously to reassure me, but when he realised his response only made it worse, he added. "It'd be wicked to have a Slytherin friend, though." My eyes widened at his words; did he just— "I'm George, by the way."

"I'm Y/n."

"That's a very pretty name." Professor Mcgonagall led us into the Great Hall, and before I knew what was happening, George's hand was holding mine. "It'll be fine."

The lighting of the Castle changed once the Great Hall's doors opened; a bright, white light seemed to be coming out of it.

"Wait!" My hand gripped George's before he could leave my side. "Can you hold my hand? I-I'm scared." My voice no longer sounded like a 11 year old.

For some reason I didn't comprehend, my eyes were watery, making the view in front of me blurry.

"Don't be scared, darling." When I turned to George, I didn't see a kid; it was him, in the expensive suit I had seen him mere hours ago. "I'm here."

I just nodded and, swallowing my fear, took a step ahead, and then another one, and another, until I reached the Great Hall.

[ashdreams2023]

Yo, if you're still doing Marvel match-ups, could you do one for me? (if not, it's fine, love to read your other stuff as well ❤️)

I've not seen Eternals and Shang-Chi yet, so if you could avoid them that'd be awesome.

I'm a university student, studying english to become an interpreter, female, hetero. Quite tall, but smaller than most Marvel boys. My hair are short, usually purple or whatever I see fit at the moment (might fck around and make them like,,, rainbow, next) and that's probably the most noticeable thing about me, aside from being a menace when I decide that I want to get to know someone. I try not to be pushy, but I often just start asking a lot of random questions to get to know new people, like, hi what's your favourite type of a screw, because how people answer to that estimates what kinda person they are (are you gonna go on a tangent about how those like,,, crosses are better or are you gonna ask me what the fuck do i mean? both answers are good, but i got to see where to go from there 😂) I feel like I have two moods: loud tomboy or softie baby doll and there is nothing in-between.

I have a bunch of unread books waiting for me, but now I mostly watch the biggest movies that come out or horrors (but that only with someone, I'm too much of a chicken to watch them alone). I like to sing, even if not well. I like rock and punk music (a lot of subgenres here), have some posters of my favourite artists in my room. I like big cozy sweaters, stolen t-shirts, hours-long hugs, holding hands, playing with people's hair, cliché scenes in rom-coms, fluffy animals, sittings for hours with a tea in the morning to wake up properly. I like small gifts, like a rock or a button that made the person gifting it to me thing about me. I treasure them more than the expensive stuff. I have one flower that still lives on my windowsill and I will do anything for that sucker to survive. And I mean. Everything.

I really don't like when someone is ignoring me, I'd rather hear that they don't want to listen to me. I don't like people who are too stubborn to learn new things and change their mind. I absofkinlutely hate storms and other big scary weather formations. I don't like people who don't take boundries seriously. I have a big problem with people not treating retail workers, waiters etc. properly. People who don't feel protective over those that are weaker in a certain situation disturb me. If a someone's being an asshole, you need to be ready to back me up, I can't fight foe shit, but boy, I can't watch someone get treated badly.

Bucky Barnes

Nobody expected you two together, like seeing you both together for the first time is like that Deadpool meme {you know the one}

You know bucky appreciate that you’re not trying too hard and just asking bland questions at first

Either you’re being a tomboy or a softie Bucky wouldn’t treat any gentler, even if gets a bit moody he doesn’t like changing his attitude towards you

Bucky seems like the type to read those books out loud for you on a boring Wednesday

Blast rock music in the early morning and you’ll find him head popping in the living room

You can steal his clothes but he won’t hesitate to tackle you to the coach to get his sweater back if you make snarky comments

Playing with his hair makes him super relaxed and calm

Bucky knows how important boundaries are so if you keep his he’ll keep up with yours

He won’t hold you back but he’ll stand behind you to scare off whoever tries it

[dyker-farmer]

More bro fic.... angst fodder kind content.

Take that can away if you can

I never see Shane works that don't go all in for romance nor explore the more realistic ugly parts of recovery, and I kind of crave That TM. So let me have at it too with the self-insert whump mumbo jumbo; no romo version.

Set post-8 hearts event- not 10, jesus-, Farmer Uidelsib is two years or so in, full house built and married to Emily. They/them pronouns, same as me.

Diverges from then on, Shane-centric from an outside POV for the most part.

I also put it on Ao3.

[[MORE]]

A bitch bastard man and a bitch walk into a room... Chapter 1/2/3/4

"I think we should talk about this."

If the room was stifled before, this just causes the pin to drop, and the relative lull to shatter with it. I don't want a storm, but we can't pretend the sea's a slightly oversized pond if we want him not drowning in it- again, my mind supplies, unhelpful.

He's zoning out again, blurry eyes pointedly off me, preferring the turned-off TV.

Let's start easy. "Why did you come here, Shane?"

"I-I-" It sounds like an excuse building up and it bubbles out like a shaken can, "I don't- I shouldn't have-" he goes to up and leave, and we just can't have that.

I scrape my chair closer and grab his shoulder, same as before. Hopefully it's more placating than caging. "No, you should have. You did good. Seeking out, remember?"

He doesn't answer but stills.

"Like Dr.Campbell and Harvey said." I try again.

"Yeah… Yeah." Deep breathing. "I. Don't know." He searches for my face, not quite past the nose. I nod, ushering him on. "It's. Stupid." I frown and my eyebrow goes higher than before and he immediately doubles down. "I know- positiv' reinforchment and all that shit! But… It's hard." A tired hand wipes the most of moisture off his face, before it goes back to wriggle with the other on his lap. "It's so fuckin' hard. Didn't even last two seasons!-"

I cut him off. "Two seasons is a lot! One and a half too. Last time, you'd tried to go cold turkey on the spot. We know what that got us." Sea foam in the mouth and a shared cold in the early spring, on top of a Joja lawsuit. "Shit's hard, like you said. You lasted one and a half this time. Next time-"

"Why the fuck do you always think there's gonna be a next time."

This time, I still. My laidback demeanor mirror his, but so does the cold anger creeping in and tensing both our backs.

"Because. There is going to be a next time. And another after that. And another. Same way there's been next times before this one now."

What's left unsaid we don't touch.

All irritation floods from him like it's just pointless to keep it in anymore, and his forehead goes to thunk softly against the wooden surface he leaned on before. The table muffles his next words a little.

"I can't… keep doing that." I don't peep. "I can't keep rolling back down and then up and down, and up, and down. I- I just can't, Garcia- Uidel-"

"I'll drag you there." I shrug.

"But you shouldn't have to!" His voice raises and make the boards vibrate where his skin's still pressed. "You shouldn't have to-to fuckin'-" he sniffles, the following words drowned out in held-back sobs. "Fuck damn it, you- I said I- I wouldn't be a burden anymore!"

He's crying out loud now, open sorrow and no walls left. Out of all the things you could stick on the not-so amiable man sulking straight from bed to Jojamart to Stardrop Saloon to bed, you probably wouldn't think of "extreme scare of bothering anyone". Yet it's all here in how he collapses silently in the mattress, wake without a sound, keep his head down the whole time he crosses town, tries to merge himself in the fake-nice blue of the shelves at work, then corners himself right between the chimney and the bar on Emily's side, stuck in-between two sources of warmth that can never touch him unless he swings one way or the other. And he doesn't a lot, still keeping to himself strictly. You probably wouldn't think either of how dreamy he gets, hidden in his alcove but seeing everything from there.

When Harvey nerds out about classical, jazz and electro swing music down the bar to me, trying to catch me up on my fuzzy memories of arts history and the implications of breaking codes in the tempo and the leisure of each instruments; of how each note gets a specific response from the brain if done right, and can make up for caffeine deprivation in miraculous ways, when there are no more chances to push back the dread of midterms season at doctor school.

When Elliott, boisterous and drunk, arm-on-arm with an equally inebriated Leah, calls out to the whole place to hear out his latest soliloquy, and drags on the words too much, but with a voice that carries it well, all flamboyance and no limits, as his hair floats around him in a crown and he reigns over the room like a kind lion- Description all intoxicated words from your chicken man truly, not mine. I always get too caught up in the pendulum of Leah's braid and her crooked smile to quite appreciate his theatrics. But the recital rings clear, and everyone applauds the performance- because hey, you applaud a drunk guy showing off the prowess of not tripping a single word in a ten minutes tirade, but also because it really is that good! Everyone, even Shane, whose hands zipped to under his armpits the moment our eyes crossed and I met his pink cheeks with a clairvoyant smile.

Hey, what can I say. Dude's a sapiosexual. Hence why we'll never and cannot bang. That, and, uh, the being lesbian thing.

But all this is closed off and not for anyone to see behind see-through fogged windows, like those kitchen cabinets, when you can make out the piled plates all resting against the cold surface precariously, bound to crash and shatter the moment you open them.

It took a good wrecking ball of a fake-oblivious polite faced stranger and my incessant, hot pepper poppers-powered pestering, to even just crackles the glass.

The rest was all done out of his own volition. He can't see that because alcohol is a depressant, and guzzling it down leads to blurry concepts made softer always and pretty much lush in brain, and when he's off the thing, and that's rare, he instantly goes from not there to thinking he's everywhere, soiling everything and giving nothing.

His sobbing doesn't relent, and he whimpers issues of "trustworthy sack of shit", "not being worth the fucking shrink's money", "not being worth his aunt's troubles", "not being worth Jas". At some point he goes to grapple with his hair, and tugs brusquely once, then twice, then I have to reach for his wrist to make him stop, which he snatches back as soon as I make contact. But he doesn't grab anything to pull or pinch or punch again, so that's good. I stay on standby beside him, but don't touch him. He rasps more condemnations, struggles to breathe enough through the phlegm spreading in his respiratory system, and I start reenacting the steps to stop a hyperventilation in my head, and the first aid for choking, when he begins to cough violently, his entire frame upset with the movement.

He takes the tissue box i nudge with insistence toward him, and ends up spitting mouthfuls of mucus mixed with some bile in the basin under his feet. Most of it is clear and smells of fruits, not beer, so I'm not too worried. When I go to stabilize him by taking his shoulders, he grasps at my wrists to stop me- but let them stay here, while he clings. The tremors get to me now, and I remind myself that this is good, this is before the cliffs and him finding refuge to burst open, not glassily stare at the weeping clouds as he blabbers on the meaninglessness of his life.

This is… very alive.

I ought to be glad.

I let him come down at his rhythm, counting the pulses of his wrists as I feel mine numb with the blood circulation slowed down under his hold.

When he's back with a mind, I count to three, then let go. His arms flop back down, on his lap and hands dangling between his tighs. He blows his nose again.

"I'm so pathetic…"

"Yeah sure, and I'm a serial prom queen."

Instead of jabbing back and forth, we get interrupted by a soft mewling. Both of us turn to the door, that's opened slightly to let in Eryza, the pitter-patter of her paws on the stone flooring the only sound for a moment…

As we both stare in revulsion at her jaw, a single line of vomit dripping of it.

Shane puts his head down in shame, not even having the strenght to hide further.

"Sorry."

"Nah, 's okay. She's already trash, anyway."

Eryza edges closer and rapidly tour around our legs- going back to Shane's feet twice, her whiskers tickling his exposed ankles. Purring loudly, she completely ignore my chastizing as I threaten to make her diet periwinkle-based to counter-act her literal potty mouth, and she scampers to do who-knows-what in the rooms.

"Your vibes are rancid, do you hear me?? Rancid, girl!" I call after her. "I swear to Yoba, Shane, your aunt might as well have brought me a raccoon."

Turning back to him, I can see the short-lived humor of the situation was, well, short-lived. I sigh.

It's late. We're both tired. Tomorrow is sunday. It's cool. We've got time.

I don't sit back down right away. First, I put a hand down on the nape of his neck, that slides to the top of his scalp, right where he'd tug. My quota, remember?

He sniffles some, a few teardrops make their way to the planks, unheard. We stay like this for a moment.

He doesn't shake me off, but in the slow tandem his body takes, rocking lightly from back to forth, I can tell it's enough, for now.

I sit back down on my chair.

I lean on the hand I'd put in his dark purple strands before, smelling cedar wood and pine trees. I don't assume. My farm has plenty of those to stumble through. And even if he went back to the cliff, another time again. I do that too. With my own cliffs back at not-home, but close. There's a sense, in staring down what couldn't take you.

Like visiting a scene crime that you've narrowly escaped from. And pride too. And the thrill of asking- "what if again? What if this time?"- and okay, I can see why it'd be worrying to have him go there a thrice time on his own late in the evening.

But last time was fine, the one before was made fine, and he might need a bitch for a friend right now, but not a watchdog.

His forehead is back against the table.

Three fingers massage my temple. I don't know how much he'll even remember tomorrow, but it's worth the try, always.

"Shane, dude, look at me." He doesn't.

"Dude."

Still doesn't budge. I knock the wood lightly.

"Yo, punk, my eyes are up here." I joke.

He snorts, or maybe he sniffles, and his chin's now resting on the table, peering through the forgotten drinks to watch me. His hands are hidden, probably still clutching his midsection. If I went on a rollercoaster toasted, I'd probably look the exact same.

"I told you before that you literally couldn't be a burden."

He snorts for sure this time, derisive. I knock wood again. "Don't look away from me when I talk, young man. Rude ass punk."

"Bitch." He throws.

"Bitch bastard man." I send back. "Anyways, as I was saying. If I choose you're my dumb of ass to keep around, that's me, that's my decision. You can't burden me if I choose the hard mode package and roll with it. So stop it. I literally told you before, it's not about you not making efforts or burdening people, it's about people who want to deal with you, out of free will."

"Freaky."

"Oh shut up, you dramatic himbo wannabe."

"A what now?"

"Internet slang. Gotta admit you're closer to a dad bod type, but the energy's here, according to many."

He shuffles, self-conscious. "Y'don't need to remind me…"

"Oh hush you, you're perfectly fine. And Elliott would eat his dumb little lobster and pomegranate toasts off that belly if you'd grow out of your own shell and let him."

He sputters unintelligibly, red as a fecking pepper. Good. Flustered is better than self-depreciating.

But now he's pulled on his hood and the strings all the way out, and resumes to chanting me to fuck off, so that might be a good call for a break.

"I'm gonna change and clean up, you need anything? Do you think you'll go back to the ranch, or stay here for the night?" It's happened before, but you can count them on the fingers of one hand.

A long silence follows and I allow myself a quick look in the mirror. Yeah, we're skipping a shower tonight, but the simple hairbrush will not do. I look like a bird's nest that the birds fought in to know who'd keep the children when bird 2 takes off and bird 1 is left to mourn the empty space that'll never fill up the same again and the good times that won't be- wow, trauma lane much, not now, cowpal. First we buckle up our current rodeo. I walk back to the main room, now pajama-clad.

"I've got the beds for the possible kids up there, don't ask me why Robin put so many there, we're two people in a house, and I can lend you a Tee if you want."

He's anxious, chewing his thumb. "Emily won't mind?"

"She's out, sleeping at Haley's tonight. Girls' night and sisters catching up. It's important for her energy flow and karmic balance. Plus, you know she wouldn't mind, she likes you."

That makes him blush more, covering up the alcohol damage enough. I take note, but don't comment. Things for later. They pile up tonight.

"I- I can't go back to the ranch like this."

"You could. Marnie knows better than act as if you're doing this for fun, now. She'd have to understand. But you don't have to." I reassure him when agitated pupils jump up to me. Let's keep that ongoing panic attack at bay. "Either way, I won't mind."

I sit back. Stretch my arms between us. Catch his worrying hands into mine. Give him a squeeze. Tense appendages don't squeeze back, but don't pull back either. That's half a win. He stops torturing the poor things, and unfold with visible effort, like a crumpled up paper flower put on water. His head shakes, and I can't tell if it's conscious, him speaking with himself or trying to shake off a thought, or just a reflex. He visibly forces his shoulders to relax.

"I'm… not bothering you?" Righteous. Seeking vocal positive reinforcement, like a pro.

"Nope." I pop out the 'p'.

"... I think I'll, uh, stay for tonight."

My hands shoot into the air. "Woo! Sleepover, baby!"

I don't catch his hands curling back on themselves, trying to capture that leftover warmth in the late summer night.

--- to be continued.

[notsiriusatall]

What if I'm Someone I Don't Want Around?

He laughs at the door as it slams, any emotion or scrap of warmth dying inside of him as soon as it had surged forward.

“Don’t know what I expected.” 

Sirius glances at Grim who has now crossed to the door and is pawing at it. They’ll find him in time. He’s got food.

The fraction of a reason he had left has just slammed the door in his face. Sirius doesn’t really see a point in carrying on any longer. 

He should’ve bought a gun, like he’d planned before. But Sirius had chickened out, like always. He wasn’t strong enough to do this, he wasn’t strong enough to finally bring the people who still care about him for some stupid fucking reason some peace.

That changes today. 

He looks at the vodka bottle in his hands, excepting to feel something, anything. Nothing comes beyond the numbness, no fear, no regret, no fleeting memories of Doe, no shame for the way her face had looked, no guilt for having the last time she saw him be this time….a little guilt. Maybe he shouldn’t…

Sirius shakes his head and unscrews the bottle. He takes big, gulping drinks, as much as he can stand at once, choking slightly as the burn slides down his throat. The bottle is gone and he doesn’t even feel drunk, so he opens the freezer and gets to work on a second, downing half of it before he feels the familiar feeling of drunkenness spreading from his brain all the way down to his toes.

Numb. This shouldn’t even hurt.

He takes the empty bottle and knocks it against the kitchen island, barely registering Grim’s noise of concern as the bottom half of it shatters.

The broken jagged edges of the bottle catch the overhead light and sparkle, and Sirius feels himself swallow hard. He takes a deep breath and is surprised his hands are shaking as he raises the sharp end of the bottle to his right wrist.

It’s not going to hurt. It’s just going to be like falling asleep except he doesn’t have to wake back up. It’s going to be over soon, even if it hurts. 

Soon he’ll finally feel nothing. Soon he’ll finally be nothing.

They’ll be safe. It’ll be worth it.

He drags the glass across the delicate skin of his wrist, horizontal first, a test. The red of his own blood is shocking and Sirius takes a breath in, waiting for the pain, the sting of his skin tearing-but nothing comes.

Is he dead already? Is this how it ends? He laughs despite himself. Of course even the ending of his own life wouldn’t go according to plan. He digs the glass in deeper, feeling something close to satisfaction as he makes himself bleed. Sirius isn’t shaking anymore. He knows what he’s doing is right.

That is, until a wet nose pushes against the elbow of his uninjured arm.

Sirius’s eyes find Grimm, who barks softly, and pain shoots through his arm as his vision blurs out. In an instant, he’s realized what he’s done. In an instant, he realizes he’s made a mistake. 

He wants to live. He’s not entirely sure why, and he doesn’t even know if he needs a reason, just that the want to keep breathing is there and stronger than it’s been in months. 

“Grimm-”

Sirius catches himself on the kitchen counter, breathing hard from his nose as the glass bottle falls out of his hand and shatters beneath his feet. He’s able to right himself and vaguely registers his dog barking louder and louder behind him, pressing his body against Sirius’s and whining softly when his good arm absentmindedly touches soft black fur. 

“Help.”

Sirius isn’t sure who he’s speaking too, but saying it out loud seems to motivate his body to cling harder to the counter. He pushes himself down towards the sink and grabs the dish towel Doe had laid out.

Doe. Fuck. If he survives this, she’s going to be even more pissed at him, if that’s possible. And if he dies….

Sirius doesn’t want to die. He wants to be able to tell her loves her again. He wants to mean it even more. 

Sirius wants to hear her say it back. 

He gasps as more pain shoots up his arm when he pushes the dish towel to the open wound. The light blue fabric is quickly muddied by the color of his blood and instinctively, Sirius knows this isn’t enough. There’s only one person who might be speaking to him who can fix this.

Thankfully the phone is right next to the couch on an end table, and as Sirius makes his way towards it, able to stand a little straighter due to the surge of adrenaline, it rings.

It's always been like this between the two of them, ever since they’d made their first blood oath in 6th grade. They’ll think hard about the other and within minutes there will be a phone call, or a random pop in, or they’ll pass each other on the street. James said it was coincidence, self fulfilling prophecy, a bunch of other smart science-y stuff, but Sirius knows better.

Its a magic that the two of them share, something they’ll never fully be able to explain but at the same time, each understand. 

“James-?”

Sirius’s voice doesn’t sound right, even to him. It’s too hoarse, raw. Someone else’s. He hears James hear it too when his best friend breathes in sharply. 

“Siri-are you-what’s wrong?”

“I did-I did something really stupid.” Sirius hears his voice crack and he’s crying before he can stop himself.

“Please come.”

“I’m coming. What’d you do?” 

“I...I’m bleeding, James.”

The phone line crackles, Sirius thinks vaguely that James must be covering the receiver.  

“Okay, okay. Can you-do you have something you can stop the blood with?”

“I-” The room tilts and Sirius sinks to the floor, the digital handset clutched in his grasp-his lifeline.

“I don’t wanna die.”

He whispers like it’s a big secret, cause it honestly is. Saying it old loud makes Sirius’s will to live that much more real, it makes the blood he’s losing all the more dire.

“You’re not gonna die, Sirius. You’re not dying, understand?” James is doing a poor job at hiding his panic and Sirius just nods against the phone.

“I’m coming right now. I’m on my cell, okay? I’m staying with you.”

“I really messed up.” 

“You didn’t, bro. We can fix it. I can patch you right up.”

Sirius shakes his head.

“James, I messed up.” 

He doesn’t just mean hurting himself. He doesn’t even just mean any of the things he’s done in the past twenty four hours. He’s messed up and he has been for months and months-and he doesn’t even know how to fix it. 

“Hey-hey, hey, stay with me, Sirius. You’re okay. You didn’t mess up.” 

“Would you be better without me?”

He hates himself for how childish his voice sounds, how stilted and tired his speech is, for the panic laced even in James’ breath.

“God, Sirius. No. Of course not. Quite the opposite.”

He hears James get into his car and start the engine. 

“I’ve got a towel.”

“A towel?”

“For my wrist. Where I’m…”

Sirius can’t finish his sentence, shame sobering him. For fifteen straight seconds, all he hears on the other end is the sound of James driving.

“You slit your wrists?”

“....just one.”

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Panic shoots through him and another surge of adrenaline spikes up.

“You can’t. Please, James. You can’t. I can’t go- they’ll-”

“Hurt you? Sirius.”

James’s voice is tender towards him when it should be angry. Gentleness he doesn’t deserve. Fleetingly Sirius realizes just then that if he makes it through this, he’ll never be able to repay James.

“I can’t-” His voice breaks off into a sob and he feels his breath start to get short. All the things his mother drilled into him for years seep into his brain. Hospitals are only there to take you away from me. 

They just wanna hurt you.

They won’t believe you. No one will believe you. 

Anything they do to you will hurt more than what I do.

If you loved me, it wouldn’t hurt. 

Why can’t you just be good?

You don’t need anyone but me. You won’t need anyone but me. Remember that. 

If you’re hurt it’s your own fault.

It’s your fault.

It’s your fault.

It’s always going to be your fault.

“Sirius! Sirius!” 

He squeezes his eyes shut hard, trying to stay present, trying not to fall backwards, trying not lose himself more than he already has. He presses down on the cut on his arm and cries out in pain, but the sound of himself brings him back. He feels something wet on his elbow again, and when he looks over, Grim is right next to him. Sirius lets out another sob and clutches onto the dog with his good arm, the phone cradled between his shoulder and ear. 

“Sirius!”

James is screaming his name into the phone, almost hysterical. 

“James-no hospital.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s okay. You just scared me, man. It’s okay. I’ll try to make it so you don’t have to go, okay?”

“Okay. Are you here?”

“I am so close, buddy. I am so close.”

Sirius hears the sound of a horn blaring as James accelerates. Grimm whines beside him and Sirius start to pet him.

“Was that Grimmy?” 

“Uh-huh.”

“He keeping you company?” 

Sirius can hear the fear in James’ voice still, but he can tell he’s trying to calm down for his benefit. 

“Yeah. James?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really scared.”

Sirius can’t ever remember saying that out loud. Not to James, not to anyone. He’s thought it more times than he can count, increasingly so since everything fell apart eighteen months ago. But he’s never let himself think about it for more than a second. He didn’t dwell, and he definitely didn’t say it out loud. Sirius had learned very early in life that showing weakness, being afraid, doing anything other than laying there and taking it was a good way to get hurt. But here he was, more hurt than he ever could’ve imagined, and beyond the point of pretending otherwise.

“Me too, Siri. But it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. You have to be okay.”

Grimm nudges his arm, gets him to keep petting him, keeps him tethered to the life he’d been so determined to leave. James keeps reassuring him in his ear, and Sirius keeps repeating okay every minute or so, not sure of what’s being said, only registering soft black fur beneath his fingers. Soon, Sirius hears a car screech to a stop outside.

“I’m coming up, Siri. I’m here. Is the door unlocked?”

“...yeah.”

He can feel his pulse in the cut now, but he doesn’t think it’s bleeding as much. Sirius shifts so he’s sitting up more against the wall, clutching Grimm with both arms now, suddenly terrified about what’s going to happen when James walks in.

Normally, Grimm greets visitors at the door, but he doesn’t move, letting out a short warning bark when the knob starts to turn.

“S’okay, boy.” Sirius mumbles, shifting more, realizing as he’s trying he doesn’t have the strength to get up. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the wall, opening them again when he feels a hand cup his face.

“Hey.”

When he looks into James’ dark eyes, filled with concern, Sirius loses what he has left. He releases Grimm and throws himself at his best friend, holding onto James with strength he didn’t know he had. He relaxes as he’s held, sobs stealing his breath as James rubs circles on his back. He’d found him in rough shape a handful of times before, but it’s never been like this.

Sirius hopes it’s never like this again. 

“Let me see your arm.”

It’s only when James speaks that Sirius realizes he’s been crying too. He pulls away, his hand on his uninjured arm still gripping James’ bicep. James gently pulls the towel away and breaths a sigh of relief. 

“Alright, Pads. You didn’t get deep.”

Sirius’s eyes work double time and search James’ expression. 

“What-what does that mean?”

James’ offers him a watery smile.

“You’re gonna be just fine. No hospital.”

Sirius breaks down again, relief flooding him as James readjusts them so Sirius can lean against James properly, his arm around his shoulders keeping Sirius on Earth. Grimm puts his head in his lap.

“I’m not gonna die?”

“You’re not gonna die. Not on my watch.”

They sit there for what could be forever, Sirius quietly crying into James’s chest/armpit, letting years of pain out on the floor of his living room. When he’s done, James lets the silence surround them, reaching over to scratch Grimm behind the ears as Sirius’s breath turns back to normal.

“I have to ask you, Siri.” 

Sirius nods against him, not moving his head up to look at him even though he should.

“I know.”

“How much did you have to drink.”

He lets three heavy seconds pass before he has the guts to answer.

“One and a half.”

“Drinks?”

“Fifths.” 

James sucks in a breath. Sirius wants to cry again, realizing how consistently he’s been letting James down. He pulls away, lifting his head up even though it feels far too heavy.

“I...James. I need help.” His voice cracks but he pushes through.“Please.”

James nods twice, standing and pulling Sirius up with him.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, I’ll get you help. Let me bandage you up first.”

He drops Sirius off on the couch and disappears into the bathroom. Grim jumps up beside him and whines again. Sirius reaches for him but he touches something else soft first. The blanket Doe had slept with. Without thinking, without caring, he wraps it around himself, wrapped even around his head. He breathes her in, tears streaming down his face again.

He has to see her again. He has to tell her he’s sorry. 

And he will.

He’s asleep before James even finds the first aid kit,he’s completely exhausted. His sleep is mercifully dreamless and for the first time he can remember, Sirius is looking forward to waking up.

[ckret2]

Chicken Salad

Fandom: Borderlands, pre-canon Characters: Zer0 and an OC invented to be observer Words: 2900 Summary: An assassin doesn’t get the kind of jobs that rack up a 32 billion bounty without first doing a few low-profile hits. Tonya’s abusive ex was one of the earliest—a job with the offered reward of a mere hot meal. Notes: I like the idea Zer0 rising from a nobody to assassination infamy, so I might write some more one-shots along these lines exploring different points on that journey. Also: when Zer0’s voice is described as freakishly deep in the fic, I specifically mean way deeper than it ever is in canon. Gotta play around with those vocal settings before finding something that feels fitting. Warnings: There's a few vague allusions to past stalking and past abuse, but none happen in fic and the abuser ain't present.

With her grocery bags balanced awkwardly between one arm and one forearm, Tonya had to rub her thumb over her apartment door's greasy old lock five times before it registered her print. Adjusting her grip on the bags, she pushed the door open with one shoulder, clicked on the light with her elbow just a second before the door swung shut, and with a small scream dropped her groceries.

There was a person squatting on her kitchen table.

She was so paralyzed by shock she couldn't even think of how to react. All she could do was gape and ask, "Who—? Who—?"

The person was dressed top to bottom in all black—jeans and hooded windbreaker and gloves, even a ski mask and goggles—and was just crouching there, arms crossed loosely, resting elbows on knees. No, not resting on knees. There was a sword, glowing blue, resting across knees; arms resting on sword. "Your name is Tonya?" It was the deepest voice she'd ever heard, far too deep for this spindly invader. "I'm here about the bounty." He held out a folded scrap of yellow legal pad paper. "The one you posted."

She backed up against the door, too terrified to think of opening it and running. "Oh shit." Her ex.

Three months ago, she'd finally managed to leave him. She'd been penniless and friendless. He'd stalked her halfway around the city, tracked her down to the shelters she'd found (not hard, there were only two in town) and lurked outside, only to disappear before any authorities arrived. In desperation, she'd gone to town square—the real town square, not the unwanted Tediore-sponsored square in front of city hall—and left a note on the job board: her ex's name and address, a promise to cook a hot meal for anyone who "got rid" of him (all she could offer), and her name (she had no permanent address to list). The next day, she'd gotten cold feet—okay, understatement, she'd been terrified beyond belief that someone who knew her ex would find it and tell him—and had gone to the board to remove it. But by the time she'd gotten there, it was already gone, along with half the other jobs.

She'd told herself that some civic-minded passerby had been looking over the board and tore down any jobs that looked illegitimate or flimsy (or immoral, if the passerby happened to be someone who wasn't down with murder). But she'd always feared—always—that maybe he'd been following her that day, and maybe he'd seen her post the bounty, and maybe he'd taken it down himself, and maybe he'd started plotting revenge.

And now here someone was.

Two months ago, Tonya had moved halfway around Janus Alpha. A cousin had helped her get a new job, and a hacker she'd known in high school had helped change her name. But he'd still found her. He always found her. And he'd sent someone to do to her what she'd tried to do to him, or—worse—to drag her back to him.

"You were hard to find." He stood up, half-hunched on the table, taking his sword in one hand. He had a long, huge rifle strapped to his back. "An unexpected challenge. Appreciated." He jumped down. His heavy combat boots crashed on the cheap fake wood floor, and she jumped.

"I'm—! I have a—" She groped in her purse for her Tediore shocktase—a thrifty girl's best friend™—but he kept walking toward her, relentless.

"He wasn't as hard." The invader raised his sword, and she flinched back, pressing harder against the door; but he only sheathed it, and reached into the pocket of his black jeans to pull out a photo. She saw her ex's face, and flinched again; it took her a moment to register that there were several inches between his face and his neck. And then she just gaped. "Photographic proof, for you." He shook the photo. Dumbly, she took it. "I've come to collect."

Collect. Collect. He'd done her job. He'd killed— Her ex was dead. He was dead. He was gone forever. She'd—made it happen. She'd hired a hitman. She was safe.

Tonya gaped at him. And then his words registered. Oh, collect! His pay!

She looked down at her grocery bags. One was soaked in the red gore of a broken bottle of spaghetti sauce. "That was it."

"Ah."

"You can come back tomorrow?" she offered. "Or I can make us sandwiches."

"I'll take the sandwich."

He sat on the kitchen table, observing, while she made the sandwiches. She could feel his hidden eyes on her back. Watching her. Sizing her up. For what, she didn't know. In case he had to kill her? In case he wanted to kill her?

Somehow, the thought didn't scare her. It was amazing how fast a heavily-armed stranger stopped being terrifying once you knew he'd killed your abusive ex for you. Or maybe it was the shock.

He'd decided on a chicken salad sandwich.

She hoped he was okay with plain white bread, the ultra cheap kind made with synthetic flour. It was all she had. "Do you want it cut?"

"Four triangles."

Between her construction of one sandwich and the next, he hopped off the table, walked up behind her, and took a towel at the edge of her periphery vision. For a moment, just a split second, she was sure he was going to try to strangle her from behind. And the only wild, panicked, irrational thought she had, trained into her by her ex, was don't let him know you know what he's about to do or he'll get madder; and so, with heart pounding, she kept making her sandwich. But he returned to the table. When she glanced back, he was wiping off the surface of the table where he'd been crouching when she came in.

Well. She appreciated the gesture, but she wished he'd grabbed a wet paper towel to wipe it down properly. Or, better yet, not stood on her table in the first place. It was a rickety metal folding table, she was lucky the legs hadn't snapped. She turned back to the sandwiches. "Why were you waiting on my table, anyway?"

He made an impossibly deep I-don't-know noise. His voice wasn't real, she thought. He was using some kind of voice disguising thing. Could be a Maliwan body mod—but by the looks of him, he couldn't afford such luxuries. He was trading murders for hot meals, for goodness's sake.

Speaking of— "D'you want your sandwich nuked?"

"Eugh. Chicken salad?"

She huffed. "Well, I promised you 'hot.' I can throw in a can of tomato soup?"

"Fine."

"Great." She pulled a can out of a cabinet, popped the lid, and dumped it in a bowl. It was cheap, watery stuff, but she'd never promised a good hot meal.

As it heated up, she leaned back against the kitchen counter, and surveyed her visitor. God, he was skinny. No wonder he'd gone for the hot meal, and tracked her halfway around the planet to collect on it. His thinness hadn't really registered for what it was when she'd first seen him, except one more thing that made him look a little more uncanny and a little more dangerous—but now that she was looking at him as a person, not as a dangerous bloodthirsty burglar who was about to slit her throat with a sword designed to cauterize the wound even as it was being made… Nobody got that skinny naturally.

Tonya had been that skinny a couple of months ago—sunken eyes and bony wrists and ribs that could cast shadows. A slight breeze was enough to chill her to the bone. (She didn't look that much better now, to be honest, but at least she was starting to move in the right direction.) And she was a good foot shorter than this guy. What kind of life had he lived? "… What's your name?"

He stared at her (she assumed he was staring at her, anyway), and shrugged.

"Seriously? Then I'm gonna call you Chicken Salad."

He shrugged again.

"All right. If that's what you want."

The microwave beeped. She balanced the soup bowl on the edge of Chicken Salad's sandwich plate, and carried both plates over to the kitchen table. "Here you go. One hot meal. Not sure it's worth a human life, but…"

She looked down at the cheap synthetic bread and watery soup.

"… No, I guess this is about what his life is worth."

"Heh."

No regrets from him, she supposed. But he was a professional. Supposedly. He didn't look very professional, but he sure had a professional's sword and a professional's rifle.

Tonya wondered when her regrets would kick in. You're supposed to feel regrets, right? If you kill someone—or get someone killed—aren't you supposed to regret it? Nightmares and guilt and stuff? When did that kick in? Maybe tonight, when she tried to sleep. It hadn't kicked in yet, at any rate.

She sat down in front of her plate, he slung his rifle off his shoulders and hung it on the back of his chair to sit in front of his, and she looked up at Chicken Salad. "So, are you gonna…" She pointed at his face and gestured up, implying lifting his mask. "Are you gonna eat, or…?"

To her surprise, instead of lifting his mask, he reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a black bandana. For a second, she thought he was going to tuck it into his windbreaker like a bib—but instead he tied it around his face, just over his nose, and then reaches under it to push up his ski mask. Tonya could only stare in complete and utter amazement as, disguise thus altered, he very carefully stuck one triangular quarter of the sandwich under his bandana and, presumably, into his mouth.

He devoured the quarter in three bites—she wasn't even sure he stopped between them to swallow—and looked up at her. "What?" She quickly looked at her own sandwich. And in her peripheral vision, he picked up and devoured another quarter of the sandwich, just as quickly.

What was he hiding, she wondered, for him to cover up like that, even when eating, even when in front of the person who had hired him to kill somebody?

Her first thought was that maybe Chicken Salad did this for her because she'd hired him to kill someone. Maybe to stop his clients from being able to identify him later to people who wanted to kill him. But, no, she didn't think he'd done this just for her. Chicken Salad had come prepared with the bandana, he'd made the adjustments too fast, and he'd devoured half his sandwich too adeptly for this to be his first time eating like this. And surely he didn't usually have dinner with his clients.

Or, then again, maybe he did. Images flashed through her mind of cinema-worthy scenes of expensive restaurants, the interior decor black and red and rich, patronized by CEOs and stockholders who wanted to discreetly hire assassins, saboteurs, and mercenaries. But, no. If this guy was snatching up job board postings with only a very loose definition of pay, he wasn't getting classy jobs from executives.

Either way—either way, Chicken Salad had come prepared to hide his identity even while he was eating. So, how afraid was he of being identified?

And she was sure that was what it was: fear. She understood fear like that. Until he'd handed her the picture of her ex, she'd lived with fear like that. The fear of being followed, of being found. Nothing was more terrifying than being recognized.

Who did a six and a half foot tall hitman with a sword and a sniper rifle who killed men in exchange for sandwiches and soup have to fear being recognized by?

… How hungry did a six and a half foot tall hitman who was skinner than some toddlers have to be to kill a man in exchange for a mere sandwich?

He probably wouldn't appreciate if she asked.

In the time she'd spent contemplating Chicken Salad's fears and hunger, he'd finished his sandwich. She'd only taken a couple of bites out of hers. "...Do you want another?"

"Yeah." Without waiting for any further permission, he walked into her kitchen, pulled out her bread and remaining chicken salad, and started making his own sandwich.

"Oh, oh okay, that's—yeah. That's fine." She turned back to her own sandwich.

"Do you have straws?"

"Uh—yeah, the cabinet over the sink." With a jolt, Tonya realized, "Sorry, I didn't get you a drink, did I?" She turned toward the kitchen, as if she could see through the fridge door to see what was available besides water. Had she even refilled the ice tray lately? "Do you want me to get you something to—"

"No." He sat back down, with a sandwich and a straw, and stuck it into the soup.

Oh. God. He was gonna—well, of course. He'd just make a mess if he stuck a spoon under his— But, a straw— in the soup—

She looked up at the ceiling, staring at the flakes in the paint, to prevent herself from laughing at a man a foot taller than her who killed people for a living.

When she looked back down, he had his sword out, and was delicately using the tip of it to slice his sandwich into quarters. The edges he sliced sizzled as they made contact with the blade.

Tonya bit her lip.

Chicken Salad made an absurdly deep frustrated sigh, and muttered disparagingly, "Hot chicken salad."

Tonya burst out laughing.

When her fear of being stabbed in anger finally reasserted itself strongly enough to force her to restrain her hysterical laughter, he was staring at her, silently. She waited, breath held in dread, to find out how insulted he was.

All he did was say, "Heh."

They continued dinner in silence. Once Tonya caught sight of Chicken Salad drinking his soup with a straw, almost choked on her sandwich, and made him splutter into the straw and splash some soup on the table.

At the end of dinner, as they were cleaning up—he still wasn't using a wet paper towel as he cleaned the table—she asked him whether he had somewhere to stay. She certainly wasn't about to let a hitman who'd broken into her apartment stay the night; but she'd convinced herself now that he was afraid, hungry, and hunted, and she knew those feelings too well to feel comfortable turning him out without knowing he had somewhere to go.

But he said, unconcerned, "Hotel or bus stop, alley or homeless shelter; I will find a place."

"You don't have a home?" The question was only confirmation of what she'd suspected for quite a bit now. Black clothes hid old uncleaned bloodstains and frayed cuffs, but not completely.

"Don't need one," he said confidently, either like he actually believed or like he desperately wanted to.

Well, if Chicken Salad was used to making his own arrangements, Tonya didn't think it would be wise to stick her neck out any further for him. This was it, then.

He clearly had reached the same conclusion, because glanced at the door.

"Thank you," Tonya blurted out, and he paused. "I don't think I ever actually said—thank you. For... doing the job. It means more to me than I can say. It definitely means a lot more than a couple of sandwiches and some runny soup. I'm sorry that's all I had to offer." 

He stared at her while she spoke, but glanced away when she finished, with a shrug. "The job's its own reward," he said gruffly; and if he'd left it there, she could have thought he meant the emotional satisfaction of helping a poor scared girl get out from under the shadow of a monstrous ex. "Although killing him was dull, tracking you was fun."

A chill settled on her neck and shoulders like a thin dusting of snow; and Tonya had to remind herself that, while it was true that somebody who'd kill a man for a hot meal was at least an 8 out of 10 on the desperation scale, it was also true that he probably scored pretty low on things like empathy, or value for other people's lives. Even though she knew she shouldn't ask, she did: "So, is—is that why you're a hitman, then? Because it's fun for you?"

She wasn't sure she'd quite kept all her trepidation out of her voice; but if she hadn't, Chicken Salad didn't acknowledge it. "You know what they say," he said, and then paused, as if trying to work out exactly what it was they said. "If you do what you love you'll—never work a day." There was a strange hitch between his words, a pause in the sentence that didn't belong there.

And without anything else to say, he turned toward the door again. This time, she let him leave.

Tonya stepped half into the hallway behind him, and watched as he headed down the hallway. She wasn't sure why—to make sure he didn't vanish the moment he left her apartment, maybe. To make sure he was real. To make sure the job was really done and she was really free. He paused at the end of the hall, turned to look back at her a moment, then took the stairs up. She wondered what he planned to do upstairs. Maybe jump from rooftop to rooftop instead of walking around like a normal person, that'd fit his whole... vibe.

She never saw Chicken Salad again.

No matter how long she waited for the regret to kick in, she  never felt guilty for putting out a hit on her ex.

Fic also available on AO3, link in my sidebar.

[cythoughtsnmemories]

11.07.22

Met bf at bugis to try a Vietnamese restaurant. Booo~ but glad that there's 2 shop selling d backpack I wanna get, so got to try on. I got 20% discount cos 7.7 sale. Can't wait for it to arrived. Can use it for my course and upcoming staycation!

Finally tried d curry chicken sandwich and I love it. Heng~ it's not spicy at all cos I weak 😂 tummy can't tahan in morning. I guess d cheese n egg helps reduce any spiciness in d curry chicken. Haven't got chance to meet Della in office, so today we decided to just eat at our canteen. $3.50 seafood soup...damn worth it!

So covid case has been above 9k+ and monkey pox in SG. why not I wfh while I still can. Okay also cos a little sian to go office too haha~ v little pple lah. Wfh also means I gotta meal prep. I have my cold soba w seaweed, egg and seafood tofu.

It's not easy to be bridesmaids seriously. Got to discuss, meet other bridesmaids budget n ensure bride enjoy d bachelorette celebration. Not been a bridesmaid before isn't a good answer or explanation u can't suggest d plan. Anw, we kind of go w my plan. Shall check again in early Aug to confirmed d activity.

I know it's too early to think of my bridesmaids but I really dk who to pick. Everyone seems busy n don't really take initiative to keep the project active. Wait till d day comes bah.

Wanted to cook lunch for bf n his mum but his mum wanted to go woodland blk 15 food industry to get some food, so I went over early. 4 hrs gone, and we settled lunch out. I tot nvm, those ingredients I bought can use to cook Sun lunch. End up his mum wanted to cook satay bee hoon with d gravy she bought ytd. As always, his mum over buy, and now got to eat it for dinner before I go home. Maybe I don't cook at his hse anymore. I had a hard time getting d right portion to cook too.

Planned to go picnic on Sat night w babe. Wanted to try sourdough pizza but contemplating if I should buy vegan food cos bf is trying to go no carbs. In d end he said cheat day HAHAHAHA weee~ bf always let me have happy belly 😝 it's d right choice! The pizza was really satisfying. Imma try d wkday deal someday to try all 4 flavours.

So grateful that bf is open to discuss abt future. Recently I shared an article on 2/3 of divorce was initiate by women due to unacceptable behaviour. I ask bf what's was his list of unacceptable behaviour and I gave mine. Lol I'm d ma fan one. Rmb d last gathering w his friends, bf was so afraid to carry d 7 mths old baby. I was quite affected seeing that. Thinking my husband is not gonna help take care of our baby. How am I suppose d handle when I need help during maternity. Tbh, I'm quite afraid to carry new born. So I shared this concern w him and he laughed. He said if it's his child, he sure dare to carry and he might even toss d baby after a mth. Wts?!! 😂 he is just afraid he injured other pple baby so he refused to carry or interact w kids. Phew~ but now I scared he anyhow toss d baby, omg!! It was a short n sweet dating session before we head back his hse to stayover.

I'm laying on my bed and felt like I can sleep anytime before 11am. Lucky I decided to wfh tmr. Went bouldering this morning w my friends. We hang there for abt 4hrs+, not d 1st time playing but usually went for eock climbing and testing out bouldering afterwards. This time it's fully on bouldering and I used up all my energy. Only had 2 small slice of cake n few cubes of apple in d morning. Now I could still feel numbness in my fingers. Not sure if I'll feel muscle ache tmr. Good luck to me.