#it makes me so bitter because when someone tells me i must hate vets they assume so many things about me

[mars-ipan]

i think i’ve talked about it already but i fucking hate when people misconstrue my hatred for the military as hatred for soldiers/veterans. a huge part of my hatred for the military as an institution is the way they fuck over and exploit their soldiers and then abandon their veterans. like that is 50% if not more of why i hate the military

[slasherbvnnie]

Until We Found You | Part IV

Welcome back! This time we have the second ghostface smut. Part V will be out later tonight, but no smut! Just some pure angst and fluff. As always, heed the tags

Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+, P in V, Fingering, Oral female!receiving, Overall smut

Part I Part II Part III  Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

 Word Count: 2673

You had a good five seconds on campus before someone finally noticed. Before you even made eye contact with her for the first time that day, Tatum let out the biggest gasp she had ever made and grabbed your shoulder. “And who did you spend your night with,” she asked as you immediately blushed, covering up your hickey with your palm. “None of your business, tate,” you said as Stu laughed and put his arm around Tatum’s waist. “Maybe Randy finally got his shot, I mean with how scared you must be about the killer, maybe he offered some protection for you,” Stu joked as Billy laughed.

 “Don’t get the dork all worked up, Stu, you might put one too many ideas in that perverted brain of his,” Billy said as Randy rolled his eyes. “I can confirm it was not me, sadly, one of us actually has a job instead of living off student loan refunds,” Randy said as the group put their attention back on you. “Well, whoever mauled you better show up at the mall after class today. I wanna see who gave you that, you know, to vet them or whatever,” Tatum said as Sidney nodded. “Yeah, and then we’ll get on their case for mauling you,” she added, making you laugh.

Your day was mostly spent around nervously tiptoeing around the girls questioning you on who you spent the night with. You had talked to other people on campus that didn’t include your little friend group but had never shown interest in them, so they questioned you on any and every one they knew to see who it was. “Okay, what about the guy who almost hit you with that football last week, Kyle? Kit? Kaleb.” Tatum recalled, “Kevin, and no,” you answered simply as Sidney took a stab at it. “Nah, it has to be Oliver,” she suggested, making you pause and show a gross look. “One of my biggest bullies in high school? No thanks,” you shrugged as Billy turned his gaze to you, Stu looking back at you through the rearview mirror. 

“Bully?” Billy questioned as you nodded. Throughout most of school you had been bullied, not really by one group in particular but there were enough to only leave you with Casey as one of your only friends until senior year. It stopped when college came around, no one cared enough to bully someone they spent one hour a day with. “Yeah, he always bullied me, ever since second grade. At first everyone thought he liked me because they thought being mean to someone was how you showed a crush but after this one time he faked asking me out in high school just to stand me up, it came kinda clear he hated me,” you explained with a little bitter laugh, going silent when you noticed the awkwardness.

 Billy’s face was stone cold, but you could tell in his eyes that he was angered. “It’s fine, I’m over it now, but yeah, definitely not someone I would let sleep with me,” you said as you looked away, not noticing the glance that Stu and Billy shared. “Is he still a dick to you?” Stu asked as you laughed, “I guess? I dunno, I find it more funny that he’s still got a grudge against me for some reason, but at least he doesn’t try to pull my hair anymore,” you said jokingly.

“How about we go in there?” Tatum suggested as you and Sidney both shared a laugh, “what? You have a mystery date and you might want a cute outfit for Billy sometime,” Tate said as you and Sidney looked to each other before looking at the boys. “How about you two run off for a bit instead of being giant pervs, we’ll meet up again at the food court,” you suggested as Billy and Stu were quick to agree. Their rapid head shakes made you all rile up with laughter, smiling and heading into the store together. 

“Sooo, what’s your mystery dates favorite color?” Tate asked as you smiled, “I don’t know actually, that’s a good question,” you hummed as you looked at the different choices of lingerie that lined the store. “I think they like any color really,” you said as you spotted a red laced set, it was a bralette styled top that had strips running down the side to connect to the underwear. Sidney noticed where your eyes lingered and laughed, “they’re kinky, huh?” She joked as you laughed and nodded, “really,” you agreed. You picked through the outfit to find your size, wondering if ghostface would like it, you guessed they probably would enjoy the blood red color of it.Later that night you were in your bathroom, glad that your parents had left to have dinner at your grandparents, which they did very hesitantly given the incident a few days ago. When you reassured that with all your friends only a few blocks away and access to cars, as well as the marvelous creation of phones to dial 911, they let you be.

You found yourself looking in the mirror as you checked yourself out for the 100th time in the lingerie you had bought. You blushed and wondered if your masked killer would enjoy the outfit, running your hand slowly across the lace fabric. You heard a noise from outside, quickly throwing on a tshirt- one you didnt care about if ruined again- and pj shorts before heading out into your bedroom.

You peeked over your window to see nothing, frowning to yourself before sighing and taking a seat on your bed. But when you were met with the back of the costumed body looking over your vanity you let out a small scream, making them turn to you. “Jesus christ you scared me!” You yelled at them before relaxing, “no window climbing this time?” You asked as they shook their head, continuing to look around the room. You noticed their little glances around the room, curious as to why they were studying it. They turned towards you once more, walking over to you and looking you over. They were less aggressive than last time, using two fingers to tilt your head up to them. Their fingers were warm, which caught you off guard, just yesterday they were cold to the touch.

“There’s two of you?” You questioned, their demeanor changing quickly as they grabbed your chin. “I-I don’t know who you are, i swear. It’s just- y-your touch…” you spoke quickly, trailing off as their grip loosened. “The last one was cold, kinda felt like a corpse,” you said jokingly, “and you’re warm…plus you keep looking around like you haven’t been here before.” You said to them, their touch going back to just gently holding your chin up. They moved away from you, going back to your vanity and grabbing a small black bag, bringing it over to you. You blinked in surprise, looking up to them before they gestured to open it. You reached into the bag, pulling out a piece of paper that was torn, giggling at the words that were printed onto it. ‘Sorry about the last guy :(‘

“See? I would have figured it was two of you anyways,” you said as they shook their head. You smiled, reaching back into the bag and looking at your two new Carrie shirts. One was in the style as your previous one, the other a different one but still in the correct size. “I didn’t think I would actually be treated to a new shirt,” you admitted, hearing a chuckle from them. You didn’t say it out loud, but your heart was filled with joy knowing these two masked killers, regardless of not knowing them, were being so kind and caring towards you. You swooned, noticing how different the two seemed. The other one scared you a little, not really knowing their true intentions, but this one seemed so much more gentle and sweet with you. “I um, I also had a little surprise for you,” you said, noticing how they perked up at your words.

A blush rose to your cheeks as you looked up to them, adjusting yourself before sitting up on your knees. “but you’ll have to take my clothes off first to see it, mr. ghostface.” you whispered out, which made them grab you by the waist and lay you down on the bed. They didn’t take out the knife, instead their hands darted to the hem of your shirt and lifted it up to reveal the red lingerie underneath. A small groan left them as they quickly worked on taking off your shorts, making you giggle at the rush in their actions. You let out a little whimper as they groped you, aware now of how unintentionally strong their grip was. They squeezed your breast that was covered in the lace, their other hand roaming up and down your side. The lack of their touch made you whine out, pouting up at them before they moved to grab the final thing from the bag. A new blindfold, one dedicated just for you. They were quick to tie it, making sure you didn’t see through it by waving in front of you.

All you heard was a little thump of the mask and them struggling to take their gloves off before you heard the rest of their clothing thump to the ground. Before you could even take in a breath you felt their hand already cupping your core, their lips attacking the part of your breasts that were left uncovered from the lingerie. They roamed around before their lips were now on your neck, creating a new hickey right above the old one. You moaned softly, a shaky hand reaching to grab their arm.You could feel their muscles contract and tighten at the touch but when you made no movement to touch elsewhere, they quickly calmed down and continued their lust filled attack on you. They teased you over the lace panties you wore, their smirk growing as you let out little huffs and moans. The bed lifted, their frame no longer causing it to dip and your hand was left holding nothing, a small pout made its way to your agitated frown as their touch left you. After a moment you gasped, feeling their hands spreading your legs apart as they placed gentle kisses onto your inner thighs.

It was the first time you felt the blade, but they didn’t trail it across your skin like the other, instead they used it to make you exposed to them. Another whine left you, “you owe me a new outfit again, this was brand new,” you whined, they responded with a nip to your inner thigh, not doing anything else before diving into you.Your back arched on impact, their tongue on your clit as they spread you open with their thumbs. “fuck,” you moaned out, your thighs closing around their head to lock them in place in pure instinct. They were skilled at this, eventually finding the perfect pace that had you shaking and squirming. Every time you tried to shimmy up and get away from the pleasure, their large hands wrapped around your thighs from behind and pulled you back down onto their face. You weren’t even aware of how many minutes had passed before your thighs were shaking, only being held up by their grip. “Wait, fuck, you’re-“ the breath was knocked out of your lungs as they entered their middle finger into you, their pace matching that of their tongue as they thrusted it in and out of you.

 A loud moan left your lips as you came, whines and whimpers erupting from your chest as their ministrations didn’t stop. “Please, please, ‘s too much,” you pleaded, clawing at your bedsheets as they just hooked their arm around your thigh and pulled you down back onto their face once more. It was practically like a scene from the Exorcist as you came again, your back arching off of the bed as you nearly let out a scream from all the pleasure. This time they slowly pulled away after you came down from your high, lapping at you one last time before pulling away and hovering over you. Your chest heaved as you did your best to catch your breath, smiling softly at the gentle kiss they placed onto you. You felt them snake their hand into yours, making you giggle as they wrapped their fingers in the spaces between your own. A smile curled onto their lips when they heard your laugh, growing even wider when you let out a moan as their free hand went back to your entrance. They still held your hand as they pulled back a little, your legs spreading more as you felt them running their tip along your slit.

 At every swipe to your clit you let out a moan, gasping when they entered you. Within a second their lips were attacking your neck again, earning whines and moans from every bite, lick, and thrust that they tortured your body with. The pleasure was dizzying, you had never really gone so many rounds with someone before, the recovery time was practically nothing with how fast your climax was building up again. They were more gentle, their free hand roaming over the bralette you still had on, teasing your nipples over the fabric as they littered your skin in love bites. You were already regretting Tatum’s and Sidney’s teases about them tomorrow but for now, you accepted your fate.

Their pace was quick but managed to hit all your sweet spots, their hand that held yours was gripping you so tightly their knuckles turned white, which only brought you closer to the edge. Their free hand found its way to your clit again, rubbing it in time with their thrusts to completely overwhelm you. Your orgasm washed over you hard, the seconds felt like they lasted a lifetime as you did your best to come down from your high, but their continued sloppy thrusts didn’t help one bit. A loud whine left you as they came, biting into your neck to cover up their moan. They pulled out slowly, letting go of your hand and kissing you once again. Unlike the other ghostface, they laid down in the bed with you, pulling you against their chest. You accepted the invitation, resting against their chest and listening to their heartbeat as you recovered from your orgasm. 

“Next time…do- uh,” you spoke softly, a bit shy to get your thoughts out into words. You felt their fingertips tracing your jaw, relaxing as their thumb ran over your lips. “Do you think the both of you could come by next time? You- uh, you don’t have to but…” you trailed off as they kissed you, feeling their head move in a nod. You smiled, heart fluttering with excitement knowing both of them would be alone with you. “And don’t forget the new lingerie set, please,” you requested with a little laugh. It was an hour later, ghostface gone and you freshly showered and dressed in your pajamas again. 

Your phone rang, seeing Sidney’s caller id and answering quickly. “Hey, have you seen any of the police cars pass by?” She asked as you looked out your window, “no, how come?” You asked as Sidney sighed. “Oliver, the neighbors said they heard screaming and shit breaking and when police got there they said he was dead,” she said as you frowned. “Do they know if it was the killer?” You asked, “yeah, neighbors said they saw him running off. They tried going after them but they couldn’t catch up.” She told you, you sighing and shaking your head. “That’s so creepy…” you said, thinking back to the conversation you all were having earlier that day. You couldn’t help but wonder if ghostface was stalking you, if they already knew you and your past. 

[labomi]

play by the rules [1]

Nanami Kento is a well-known bodyguard who always adheres to his own set of principles when completing a job. But when his next assignment is protecting you, he suddenly finds himself second-guessing his morals and questions whether or not some rules are just meant to be broken.

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: none for this chapter, please look at the series masterlist for general content warnings

notes: i’ve been meaning to write a multichap fic for nanami for so long and i finally got around to outlining most of the story and writing the first chapter yay! i’m a little unsure if the plot will actually be good or not lol but i’m hoping it’ll turn out okay! thanks for reading!

series masterlist

There’s a distinctive knock on your door that pulls you out of your thoughts as you lay on your bed with an unopened book in your lap. You had been meaning to read the story for the past three months after seeing rave reviews about it online, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite find the energy to start reading. Every morning, you pulled the book from your shelf with the full intention of getting past the first page. But every night, it was returned to the same spot on your shelf, remaining untouched.

With a quiet sigh, you force yourself to crawl out of bed, leaving behind the comfortable warmth of your blankets. You drag your feet as you walk over to the door, dreading the imminent conversation you’re about to have.

To be honest, you’d rather he just leave you alone to wallow in self-pity in the comfort of your own room. You knew he had good intentions, but you dreaded his frequent check-ins with you. If he had no good news to deliver, you didn’t want to see him. And there had been no good news for the past three months.

You have no expectations that today will be any different.

With a hesitant hand on the doorknob, you take a deep breath and try to suppress the bitterness you feel towards the person on the other side of the door. Once prepared, you open the door with a wide grin and a bright twinkle in your eyes.

“Hi Dad!” You greet him with a high-pitched, chipper voice.

Your father looks pleased to see your lively expression. “Good morning, princess. Do you mind if I come in?”

You manage to hide your surprise. Most of his visits consist of a quick hello just to confirm you’re alive in your room, but he heads off to go back to work. If he intends to enter your room, there must be something serious he wishes to discuss. You try to ignore the small glimmer of hope that flutters in your chest. 

“Of course!” You waltz over to your bed and sit down, patting the space next to you. Your father sits on the plush bed beside you, twiddling his thumbs idly in his lap.

“I’m aware these past three months have been hard on you, princess,” he begins.

You dig your nails into the palm of your hands and bite your tongue to prevent yourself from spitting out a harsh retort.

Yeah, no kidding.

“They’ve been tough for me too.” He pats your leg comfortingly, giving you a sincere, apologetic look. “I hate seeing you stuck in your room all day, but you know I only do this because I love you and because I want to keep you safe.”

Your father’s words are genuinely heartfelt. There’s no doubt he cares for your well-being and bemoans the unfortunate situation, but you’re not in the mood to be swayed by his guilt.

After all, it’s because of him that you’ve been trapped inside for three long months.

“It’s okay, Dad. I don’t blame you.” You try your best to act like a caring daughter who wants to console her father and assuage his fears that you despise him for his actions. “I know it’s for my own good.”

Three months ago, your father fired your personal bodyguard. 

This also meant that three months ago, your father shredded your only ticket to the outside world.

You can only venture outside the family’s property lines if a trained professional, tasked with keeping you safe from potential harm, accompanies you to pre-approved destinations.

Your father worries about your safety in public, because he often does business with local mafia groups in the area. He is not an influential or well-known member of the underground economy, but in this line of work, it isn’t unusual to piss off the wrong person in a deal gone bad. Family members are the most common targets, so you are a natural choice for disgruntled clients to take their frustrations out on. 

On one hand, you believe it is unfair that you are forced to live a restricted life under the constant protection of a bodyguard because of your father. You have nothing to do with his business, yet you must suffer from the consequences of it.

On the other hand, there is no doubt that you reap the benefits from the success of your father’s career. You had never worked a day in your life and always received any material goods you asked for, so perhaps you do deserve to face at least a share of the consequences.

Your father is insistent that you must have your own personal bodyguard after an incident involving your mother that occurred when you were just a baby. There was an altercation when she had encountered one of your father’s enemies while doing some errands alone in the city.

It hadn’t ended well, to say the least.

So for three long months, you were stuck inside. To his credit, your father had immediately begun the search for a new bodyguard, but his vetting process was so rigorous that it was not a timely process. There had been some mishaps in the past with previous guardians, and your father had vowed to never let those mistakes happen again.

You know you should be grateful that your father cared about your safety enough to have a dedicated group of his team spend endless hours thoroughly investigating each and every potential candidate. You also know you shouldn’t complain about being trapped in a luxurious mansion, but you hate being at home.

You hate seeing your father’s workers around the premises.

You hate thinking about what sort of shady business deals are happening just a floor below you.

You want nothing to do with it. You don’t even want to think about it, which is why you prefer to spend as much time as possible away from home. 

“I’m so glad you understand,” your father says with a relieved sigh. “But I have some good news this time.”

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat. The moment feels almost surreal. You had been waiting to hear those words for so long, you almost thought it would never happen.

“I approved your new bodyguard.”

This time, you didn’t have to fake your excitement.

“Really?” you gasp, looking at your father with wide eyes.

He nods at you.

Unable to contain your burst of elation, you throw your arms around your father with a squeal, giving him a fierce hug. “Thank you! Thank you!”

Your father lets out a hearty laugh, patting your back as he revels in seeing your utter joy. “He starts tomorrow, so you may leave the property again in the morning.”

In less than 24 hours, you are free to once again explore the city, visit popular shops, and stop by your favorite restaurants. You can barely contain your enthusiasm as your heartbeat drums in your chest from the rush of adrenaline after hearing such wonderful news. Pulling away from your father, you continue to beam at him, feeling an unusual wave of gratitude towards the man.

A loud beep disrupts the heartfelt moment.

Your father looks at his smartwatch with a tight frown. “I’m so sorry, princess, but I have to go to a meeting now.” He gets off the bed and gives you a small smile. “I’m glad I could finally give you some good news. I’ll hopefully see you for dinner tonight.”

Before your father can leave, you reel in your scattered thoughts after being almost too excited to think straight. “Dad, before you go, can I at least ask for this name?”

You cannot believe you almost forgot to ask such a crucial question.

“Nanami. Nanami Kento.”

You nod at him. “Thank you! Good luck at your meeting!”

Alone once again, you throw yourself a little celebration which consists of childishly dancing around the room blasting your favorite “good vibes” playlist. Afterward, you grab your laptop and plop onto your bed with a satisfied grin. You crack your knuckles. 

It’s time to get to work. 

In order to maximize your free time tomorrow, you need to have a rough idea about what you want to do and where you want to go. But before you start the task, you need to make one important phone call.

“Hey, Itadori.”

Itadori Yuuji is one of your father’s henchmen, but he’s a sweet boy who had nowhere else to go when his grandfather died. Luckily, he isn’t directly involved in the main operations of your father’s business. Known for his fast feet and powerful arms, he is mostly used as a source of manual labor to move heavy boxes that are brought in or shipped out of the various underground warehouses scattered throughout the property.

The two of you had become friends when you saw him trying to sneak food out of the main kitchen during the late hours of the night. Only your family and your father’s trusted confidants had permission to be in this part of the mansion.

Itadori immediately got on his knees and begged you not to tell anyone that he was stealing food, but you just laughed and showed him where the good snacks were located. Together, the two of you had a mini feast using the leftovers from the culinary staff. It was the first of many secret dinners to be held.

“Hey. What’s up?” he answers.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Can you sneak into my father’s office and copy a file for me? It’s someone named Nanami Kento.”

There’s a groan. “Seriously? But you know how hard it is to sneak into his office,” he whines over the phone.

“I’m sorry, Itadori,” you apologize. You know you aren’t making his life any easier, but you need him to do this for you. “But I know you can do it. You’ve done it plenty of times before without a problem.”

Itadori sighs. He knows he can’t refuse you, not because he’s afraid that you’ll turn him in for punishment (or worse). No, Itadori genuinely likes you, and he’s grateful for your presence in his life for many reasons. Therefore, he does whatever he can to help you out whenever you ask.

“Alright. You got it.”

“Thanks, Itadori.”

Several hours later, a manila folder is slipped underneath your door. With a victorious grin, you grab the folder and set it on your desk. You shoot Itadori a quick text confirming that you got the delivery and thanking him once again for his help.

Quivering in anticipation, you open the folder and see a grainy, black and white copy of a man’s photo on top of the stack of papers. Even with the image’s poor quality, you can see the man’s sharp cheekbones and styled, light-colored hair. You think he looks rather handsome, but you’re not quite sure with the fuzziness of the copy.

Setting the photo aside, you read his file with an interested hum. Because of your father’s rigorous vetting process, the folder is stuffed full of numerous background reports. You vaguely wonder how Itadori slid such a large stack of papers under your door.

Nanami Kento, huh.

You flip over a page and continue reading.

What an interesting man.

“Did you finally accept a new job?” Gojo asks curiously, craning his neck to get a better look at the papers spread about on Nanami’s desk. He spots a photo of a woman among the various files that catches his attention. “Who’s that?”

Nanami rubs his face with an exasperated groan, wishing his coworker would mind his own business for once. He tries to hide the photo under other papers, but Gojo is too quick. The white-haired man easily snatches the photo off the desk before Nanami can touch it and waves it in front of him in a teasing manner.

“Nice try,” he grins, pulling back to observe the photo up close. “Oh, she’s pretty cute. I’m guessing she’s your new client?”

“No,” Nanami answers begrudgingly. He knows Gojo won’t return the photo or leave him alone unless he partakes in the conversation. “Technically her father is, but she’ll be the one under my protection.”

“Oh, so you did accept a new job then.” Gojo returns the photo with a satisfied grin now that his original question had been answered. “Surprised it took you this long to choose one. How long has it been since you finished your last assignment?”

“About three months. I wasn’t in a rush to start a new job.”

Nanami can afford to be picky about his assignments now. Over the years, he has built a strong reputation as a proficient bodyguard who always follows orders and always gets the job done. Now that he is well-known in the industry with a long list of satisfied clients, Nanami no longer has to scramble to accept any odd job. Plus, as part of Gojo’s renowned bodyguard service agency, he can rely on the secretaries to filter out any scams or seemingly impossible requests before they reach his desk.

Nanami is now constantly flooded with inquiries from influential celebrities, notorious mafia members, and other wealthy figures. These people are always willing to pay big bucks for an extra sense of security as they go about their lives, but Nanami is no longer interested in solely the money now that his multiple bank accounts are flush with cash. Instead, he wants to take it easy with a simple, straightforward assignment that won’t involve a lot of gunfire, blood, or death. 

Being a bodyguard is a lucrative career, but it is also both physically and mentally taxing.

Simply put, Nanami is tired.

This is why he waited three long months to find his next job. With each additional request, he ignored how many zeros were listed as compensation and instead took his time to scrutinize the client, their family, and their motivations in seeking a bodyguard. He had a mental image of what he was looking for in his “perfect” job and much to his surprise, he stumbled upon a request that checked almost every box.

While Nanami was lost in his thoughts, Gojo had secretly snatched your file from the desk and had been skimming through it. He couldn’t resist learning more about this new client.

When Nanami returbs to his senses, he sees the missing file on his desk and glares at his white-haired coworker. Gojo just laughs in response. 

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just curious to see what kind of person would pique your interest after all this time, Mr. Picky.” He purses his lips. “Hmm, she’s not much younger than us. Surprised she’s still single too. Aren’t most women in these sorts of families forced to marry early to strengthen business ties? Oh, maybe her personality is so bad her father can’t marry her off to anyone!”

Nanami rips the file out of Gojo’s hands with a scowl. “None of that concerns me.”

“Aww, come on, Nanami,” the white-haired man pouts. “You’re going to be spending a lot of time with her. What is she’s a demon in disguise? Women are pretty scary, you know.”

Nanami figures Gojo skipped the part in the file where your father had described you as a “bright, bubbly young woman who loves to shop and eat”.

“I think I can handle it,” Nanami responds flatly. “After all, I can reasonably get along with everyone except you.”

Gojo clutches his chest dramatically, acting like he had just been shot. “Nanami, you’re so cruel to me!” He then drops his hands and places them on his hips with a devious grin. “Alright, I’ll leave you alone now. Good luck! And don’t fall in love!” He lowers his sunglasses and winks. Gojo can’t help but get in one last jab to irk his coworker.

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

Nanami is a serious professional, one who always plays by the rules. He adheres to a certain set of principles in order to remain successful in this line of work. Without them, situations can get messy, and he has all too often witnessed other bodyguards make the mistake of deviating from protocol and facing the consequences.

There are three fundamental rules that Nanami always follows without fail:

Never go above and beyond what a job asks you to do.

Once a job is finished, leave immediately.

Never get personally involved with a client.

And under no circumstances would he ever disregard any of these rules.

[buckybeardreams]

Unwanted

Chapters: 2/11

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Harley Keener

Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Service Top, Dominant Bottom, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Romantic Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Meetings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sappy, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Drinking to Cope, Self-Worth Issues, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Steve Rogers, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Age Difference, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Claiming, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Coming Untouched, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000

Series: Part 1 of Second Chances

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11

Can also be read here

Summary:

Steve is a soft Alpha and Tony is an in charge kind of Omega with no desire to find a mate. He doesn't want to find his soulmate and when he does meet Steve he's determined to stay away from him.

That is until he realizes just how right they are for each other.

Words: 1,549

Steve was a newly presented Alpha, barely more than a pup, only just having turned eighteen a few months prior, and he was eager to find his soulmate. Eager to start the rest of his life with someone else, to settle down, to start a family. He was an artist that had been lucky to make it big, thanks to some help from his friend, Sam, who had introduced him to Pepper Potts. Most artists struggled to get by on just their art alone, not many managed to make a living off of it. So few managed to make bank while still in high school, if ever at all.

Steve was one of those fortunate few.

Sam was older by nearly twenty years and had far more life experience than Steve did, but Sam also had a soft spot for the kid. It was probably depressing to admit that his best friend was a kid that still believed in dreams coming true, but it was true. Sam met Steve when the teen started volunteering at a homeless shelter that catered to vets who hadn't received the support they needed when they came home.

Ever since then Sam had taken to mentoring the kid, supporting him when his asshole father only seemed to tear him down. Maybe it was Sam's fault that Steve had such unrealistic expectations about life and soulmates and happy ever afters. Sam had made a point of telling the kid, who had been so scared and broken when he first met him, that he could do anything he set his mind to and he could have anything that he dreamed of. Sam didn't regret building up his self-confidence, he just hoped the world didn't let the boy down.

For the first time in a long time, Sam felt like maybe dreams really could come true. His soulmate - even thinking the word made Sam feel all fuzzy - went to talk to his best friend, so naturally Sam had taken the opportunity to go see his own best friend.

"I can't believe you found your soulmate!" Steve said. "What was it like? Did you know the moment you met his eyes just like in the stories?"

Sam grinned stupidly, sighing and falling back on the couch, his legs over the arm and his head in Steve's lap.

"It was perfect. He's perfect. It was just like in the stories. Our eyes met and we were drawn to each other. We both knew exactly what was happening and I fell in love before he even opened his mouth. Then he told me that if I thought he was going to be some mindless Omega that obeyed his Alpha's every command that I have another thing coming." Sam laughed.

Steve was enthralled, caught up in his tale.

"Then what happened?"

"Then he kissed me and it was like fireworks exploded around us, and in our mouths. He tasted like heaven," Sam said dreamily. "He dragged me off to the bathroom and sucked me off in the stall and then I took him home and fucked him all night. Didn't let him off my knot until like an hour ago, when he said he really needed to go tell his best friend about us. That's when I came here to tell you, because you're my best friend."

Steve blushed the way he always did when Sam said that, but grinned.

"That sounds perfect. I hope it's like that when I meet my soulmate."

"I'm sure it will be," Sam reassured him.

Sam really hoped it would be, and he really hoped that Steve would meet his soulmate someday. Not everyone did and even those who did, well, things happened and not everyone got to keep their soulmates their whole lives. Steve nodded, but bit his lip nervously.

"I'm going to be a good Alpha, Sam. I'm gonna be so good to my Omega and give them everything that an Alpha is supposed to give their Omega. My mark, my knot, my pups. All of it," Steve said, determined.

Sam smiled a little sadly at him and sat up.

"I know you'll be a great Alpha, Steve, but you know you don't have to change who you are. Your soulmate will love you just the way you are and if they don't then they don't deserve you."

Steve shook his head.

"No, I want to do all of that for my Omega. I just know it. It doesn't matter that I like to get off while fingering myself. That won't matter once I have an Omega. I won't need to do that anymore, because I'll have my soulmate to get me off and even if I can't always get off that'd be fine. It won't be about me. It will be about them and when they need me to knot them I will. I'll make it happen no matter what."

Sam sighed, but nodded.

"I know you will, kid."

*****

Tony wasn't sure how long he laid there, but he must have fallen asleep on the couch at some point, because he woke up to the sound of a key turning in the lock. Tony groaned, cursing and stumbling off the couch, clutching at his head when it protested the sudden movement, and rushing to the bathroom. Brock saw the empty bottle on the ground by the couch when he opened the door, told his Alpha to wait in the living room and headed off to find Tony.

"Tony? Are you okay?" Brock called out, knocking on the bathroom door after he checked his room and found it empty.

Tony just groaned and heaved into the toilet.

"I'm gonna get you some aspirin," Brock said.

"Do you want any help?" Sam asked, concerned.

"No, he'll be upset if you try to help him. He hates Alphas."

"Right." Sam glanced anxiously at the bathroom door.

Every instinct inside him was telling him that there was an Omega in need in there and he should help them, but he shoved the urge down. If Brock said his help wouldn't be wanted Sam definitely wasn't going to force it on Tony. Even Omegas who didn't hate Alphas didn't necessarily want an Alpha they didn't know to be around them when they were feeling vulnerable.

Brock brought Tony aspirin and a glass of water and held him when he broke down crying. They sat on the bathroom floor for a while, Tony curled up in Brock's lap, sobbing and saying he didn't want to be alone and he just knew that he was going to be alone forever, because who could ever want an Omega as fucked up as Tony was.

That was a big reason why Tony didn't want to find his soulmate. As much as he insisted it was because they would probably be an asshole and he didn't need someone to try and control him, the truth was that it was mostly because Tony was terrified of rejection. Terrified that he'd find his soulmate and they'd be perfect and then they'd realize just how much of a mess Tony was and run in the other direction.

Brock was the only person who had ever stuck around. The only person who ever stayed, even though Tony got drunk more nights than not and his life was falling apart. When Brock was drafted Tony was heartbroken to lose him, alone and so scared of being on his own, so scared that Brock wouldn't ever come back, but Brock returned home, returned to Tony. Everything was right with the world again, because Tony was no longer alone.

Now Brock was leaving him again, but this time he wasn't coming back. He was going to live with his soulmate and pretty soon he'd forget all about Tony. Twenty years from now Tony would just be that roommate that he used to have that never got his shit together. Twenty years from now Brock would have pups that he had raised and devoted his life to and Tony would still be all alone.

No matter how much Brock promised Tony that he wasn't leaving him alone, that they were still best friends and Tony could come visit him anytime he wanted, Tony didn't believe him. He couldn't believe that things wouldn't change. Of course things would change. Everything would change and Tony hated change.

So when Brock finally coaxed Tony out of the bathroom and onto the couch, Tony glared at Sam. He hated this Alpha for taking away his best friend. Brock tried to ease the tension, but Tony was too bitter to let go of his anger, so eventually Brock sighed and kissed Tony's cheek. They gathered up Brock's stuff from his room and left. Tony couldn't help but feel like Brock was choosing his Alpha over Tony.

Why wouldn't he?

Tony had nothing to offer him. He didn't want to fuck him, didn't have a knot, couldn't claim him. Tony couldn't give Brock any of that, didn't want to give him any of that even if he could. As much as he loved Brock, he didn't feel that way about him. He did feel miserable, all alone and unwanted. Tony curled up on the couch and cried, unable to even find the energy to drag himself to his bed.

[evak-fic-rec-turtleanon]

Evak Fics - Kid Fics

*** Isak and Even have a child together *** They are parents but to different children *** Only one of them is a parent 

***** THEY HAVE A CHILD TOGETHER *****

Nas by OrTheNightEverythingChanged (571 words) - Isak and Even take their daughter to the skatepark. 

Sugar Coat This Love For Me by i_once_wrote_a_dream (1k words) - A little argument over candy during Halloween. 

life with our little prince by glbertblythes (SERIES. 3 Fics) - Isak and Even adopt a little boy with prince curls and blue eyes. 

All in the Eyes of a Boy by MacksDramaticShenanigans (1.3k words) - the first time Isak and Even meet their son. 

all i want for christmas is you by stringsinmelody (1.3k words) - Isak and Even enjoy their first Christmas together with their baby. 

sugar and spice and everything nice by chasingflower (1.6k words) - Eskild and Noora finds Evak’s kid from the future. It’s adorable as heck. 

småfolk by stringsinmelody (SERIES. 5 fics) - a/b/o undertones. 

the room's hush hush and now's our moment by ahana (2.2k words) - A night in the life of Isak and Even, sixteen years later. 

Stjerner Lyser Skinnende by MacksDramaticShenanigans (2.4k words) - Isak and Even attend their daughter’s music concert. She has a surprise for them. 

The Beginning of Believing by MacksDramaticShenanigans (2.5k words) - Their children argue about Santa. 

I'll be there by Wolle19 (SERIES. 3 fics) - All Isak want is for his husband to be home for the holidays. Mpreg. 

I'll give you the brightest sunshine by goldenkisses (3k words) - It was something that they new would always happen, a life being brought into their lives that would make all the gloomy days into something so bright. Adoption. 

everything that happens is from now on. by Skamtrash (6.7k words) - Adoption. At the end so not a lot of the kid is involved here. This is part of a series. The next part, wrap your arms around my heart just like you always do. has more of the kid. 

Isn't He Lovely by MacksDramaticShenanigans (4.4k words) - the first time Evak’s kid meets his uncles. 

don't be wasting your time (on your own) by orphan_account (4.6k words) - Five things Even reminds himself not to forget, and the one thing he does. NOTE: The fic says this is a sequel and the first fic is a must read. But there’s no link so if you know which the main fic is, let me know. P.S. This could go under the different children category but they are already a family here so.. 

The Fools Who Dream by Janey_E (6k words) - A collection of moments from Isak and Even's family life, important and not-so-important. Kids, friends, mornings, evenings, weddings, birthdays, bad days, good days. 

Our Steady True North by verlore_poplap (orphan_account) (9k words) - Five times Isak and Even were amicable; plus one time they just weren't. Co-parenting. Post break-up. 

i ain't no hercules by grinsekaetzchen (12k words) - Post-apocalypse world. This is a sequel. So SPOILERS. They kinda adopt this boy. The first part is if you must live, darling one, just live and it’s amazing. 

my entire world fits perfectly in my arms by theyellowcurtains (12.8k words) - A bunch of cuddle prompts. Not all of these are kid fics. 

(WIP) Everyday Evak: The Realistic Stories of Isak & Even by NeonViolet (14k words) - A realistic looks into Even and Isak's life. It's not always glamorous. 

you told me we were forever by Skamtrash (19k words) - Isak finds out he's having a baby soon after Even breaks up with him so he makes the decision not to tell him. Except Even finds out on his own 3 years later. 

The Fiction of Reality by Midlifecrisis (24k words) - Isak and Even have a daughter, but life is not plain sailing. 

Soup is for the Soul by unfancyandy (26k words) - This is a sequel. So SPOILERS. set 5 years after "Sleep Is For Dreamers," Even and Isak are starting a new adventure. 

Evak Family by orphan_account (SERIES. 7 fics) 80k- Isak is nineteen, Even is twenty-one, and they had a plan. A plan that they've very, very carefully stuck to. Until, that is, Isak gets sick and can't seem to figure out what's wrong with him. Spoiler: he's not sick. Mpreg. 

You Are Everything I Have Never Been by staylucky (78k words) - Isak Valtersen is an unpresented, soon-to-present omega who is convinced his best friend Jonas Vasquez is his alpha mate until he meets a very charming and persuasive new alpha, Tall Stranger aka Even Bech Naesheim, making him question everything. The kid part comes later on in the fic. 

Calm After by desp3ration (270k words) - This is a sequel to Tidal Waves . So SPOILERS. The tags say Evak becoming parents but I have not yet read this and I don't want to fo through it to figure it out because I want to read this later. So if it shouldn't be in here, let me know.  

***** THEY EACH HAVE DIFFERENT CHILDREN *****

shred by tusktooth (22k words) - Has a twist but nor really a twist. I’m just gonna put this in this category.  There were two versions of Isak Valtersen. He was cool, smart snowboarder guy. The real Isak, was also trans, gay, and a father. Keeping the two Isaks separate wasn’t that difficult. At least, not until he saw Even again. 

***** ONLY ONE OF THEM IS A PARENT *****

Even the Illustrator by eavk (SERIES. 3 fics) - An AU where Even’s an illustrator who draws what kids describe to him for YouTube, and Isak is the smitten father of a six year old with a wild imagination. 

a lullaby for you by noirophelia (2.2k words) - Isak has a wonderful little daughter. Even is her wonderful teacher. 

Better With You by iriswests (5.8k words) - Isak and Even don't know what they'd do without the other. Eventually, they realize they don't really need to find out.. Single dad Even. Vet Isak. 

(WIP) carrying our dreams and all that they mean (trying to make it all worthwhile) byodair_goes_my_sanity (8.4k words) - We’ve been hooking up for the past few weeks and holy shit it turned out you’re my kids teacher oh god this embarrassing! 

Universe At Its Finest by Skamtrash (8.6k words) - The universe brings Even into Isaks life, he just didn't know Even came with a full package. A kid fic with 90% pure fluff. 

The Little Flower Named Dahlia by Bellakitse (18k words) - Single!Dad Isak + Preschool teacher Even and the little girl that brings them together. Adorable fic. 

(WIP) Draw a Family by Isakprettykitty (21k words) - Isak, a single parent, takes his 5 year old son to preschool for the first time. Before Isak adopted Magne, his biologic parents weren't treating Magne as they should and some of the scars still haven't healed. Magne's teacher is no other than Even bech næsheim, who makes it his goal to help Magne out with his social anxiety. As time passes, Even and Isak grow closer and the younger one finally learns that it is okay to depend on other people. 

Lovesick by Sabeley (SERIES. 2 fics) - Even is absolutely not making up excuses to take his daughter to see the hot new pediatrician. 5 times Even's daughter wasn't actually sick and 1 time she was. 

take me as i am-universe by argentae (SERIES. 3 fics) - He isn’t crushing, and nevertheless this guy has become a Problem, because whenever he’s on shift he’s made it increasingly difficult for Isak to really spend his time productively. Sure, he could just find another place to study but he likes the access to coffee here even though he actually kind of hates the bitterness of it and he’s just not going to let himself get swept aside because of this guy. Parent!Even. 

We are our Choices by recklesslee (40k words) - Even is informed that one decision he made on a lonely night months ago has led to a new bump in the road. Now Even has another choice to make, and that just might change his life for the better. Doctor!Isak. 

Emmy by NeonViolet (48k words) - Isak is 25 and working in marine biology. Sana is his best friend. He has a 7 year old. And her new school principal looks familiar. Adorable! 

waiting outside ('til you're ready to go) by mellowellom (52k words) - An AU where Isak's daughter is an actual little devil that he can't control for the life of him, and his neighbour Even offers a helping hand. 

we've made it this far, kid by everythingislove (straykid) (SERIES. 2 fics) - Technically, Isak is an uncle. The one where Isak is just trying to raise his nephew as best he can with the help of his best friends. He doesn't expect to fall for Felix's gorgeous football coach along the way. 

(WIP) The Daughter by Laika_the_husband  (10k words) - A sequel. So spoilers. Even’s daughter appear in the previous fics but not as much. Continues from the series, A Dove, a Snake, a Ghost and a Madman. And what an excellent series this is. 

Quitting You by Laika_the_husband (65k words) - A sequel. So spoilers. From the series, Because of You I'm Nothing, I'm Nowhere. Isak Valtersen is a happy stay-at-home dad of his baby girl, taking care of his new home in Belgium. His peaceful life as a domestic god gets turned upside down, when his deeply buried desires are suddenly forced to resurface. It is simple enough to find someone on Grindr, but when that someone is painfully familiar, things can get complicated. Another excellent series. 

I Can Hardly Breathe by Flatfootmonster (82k words) - This fic, man. Isak gets hired to be the nanny? for Even and Sonja’s kids. This fic is just absolutely amazing. 

[jay-and-dean]

Rescue You Chapter 1 : October 27.

Dean x reader

The original Aestetic was flaggued, so this is my new version of it. Thank you for all the amazing feedback I just had time to read before they got lost

Summary : My name is Y/n. I’m the outcast of my witch community. This is the story of how I rescued Dean Winchester, the story of how he saved me.

Serie Warnings : Swearing. Injuries. Smut. Fluff. Angst.

Words : 2.9k

Note : I really have fun to write this story, because it’s a little different from my usual things. I’ll try to make shorter chapters than usual, and to edit it more often. I hope you enjoy. Special Thanks to @holylulusworld and @roonyxx to support me.

***Want to read more ? => MASTERLIST***

__________________________________

October 27, 6am.

           I open my eyes and grunt, then throw the cover above my head.

           I don’t want to go. I never do, today is just worse. Maybe it is because the sky is so grey again, maybe it’s because it’s full moon tonight… My mom and sister will bring the community home, to prepare the moon rituals as always and I just hate it. Halloween coming is enough already, and it seems that the meetings never stop. I don’t want to face the community looks of pity and annoyance ; being my mom’s disappointment is enough, it don’t need to be the freaking town’s black sheep.

           But this is my life.

           Being the only child born without powers in a large and powerful witch community is not only frustrating, it’s a curse. And my life has slowly become a nightmare.

           It started at five, when the Coven decided my father was the one responsible for my “inability”. Men don’t have powers, and they are just excluded most of the time, treated like they were less important, less intelligent, like many women are currently treated in the rest of the world… Aunt Kali says we are better than humans because we don’t underestimate women, but I’m not sure if doing the same things to men is really being better.

           My father loved me, he wasn’t close to my sister because my mom never really let him. She’s so talented my sister, and her powers started to bloom early ; but as mine took time, my mother neglected me. Until the community started wondering why I had no talent…

           When I was five, they decided I shouldn’t see my father anymore because he had a bad influence on me. Two years later there was a trial, because they now knew I will be without powers.

           It happens once in a while, a child without powers ; and they always blame the males.

          So they banned him. They banned him and erased his memories, perfectly knowing it messes with people brains…

          I heard he’s now an old drunk working in a factory in Main. I just wish they had banned me too, but they can’t erase my memory of this town so they just have to keep me. And I’m a woman.

        All the rest have been the same, they refused that I do Vet school, that I marry Aiden… Now I just came to agree that my fate may be to stay at my mom’s, and be the handywoman of the town.

          I really try to ignore my mother calling me, hiding just a few more seconds under my blanket, but she’s not someone you can ignore for long, so I get up grunting.

          When I enter the kitchen with my hands in the pocket of my large hoodie, my eyes widen : The place is already crowded with people speaking loud and looking worried. The whole Coven is here, the mayor too, and my sister, frowning like she this was serious. Nothing is ever usually serious to her.

“What is happening ?” I ask her and she looks at me with that common annoyed look.

“Hunters” she says. “Two of them, one is dead, but the other is gone.”

I frown. Hunters ? Oh…

“Ophelia, where were you when you saw the hunter ?” the old Mam Griffin asks.

“In the forest” Ophelia whines. “Sally and him fought, she stabbed him but he killed her” she sobs with her face in the silk tissue. “He escaped to his car so I… I crashed the car and run… B-but… Saaallyyy” she whines again.

           Sally was a bitch, she used her powers to hurt animals, and me, so I won’t really miss her. And Ophelia is a stupid blond girl, but she’s very strong, so if she says she crashed the car, the hunter must be in pieces.

           Mam Griffin sits and everybody shuts up, she looks at her knobbled hands and clear her throat.

“Tell the boys to find the corpse, throw it in the river and bring me blood” she gnashes.

The awful sound coming from her makes me frown, and when she notices, I know I’m screwed.

“I changed my mind” she says looking me right in the eye with the usual hate. “Send Y/n.”

“B-but, he will be heavy and if the other hunter…” my mother tries.

“Enough !” the old lady cuts her. “I want hunter blood, Y/n”.

October 27, 9am.

           It’s already so cold, I just hope it won’t rain. The woods are misty and creepy, as they always are in autumn.

           Their hate of me makes them reckless, what if I can’t drag the hunter out of the car ? What if people follow me ? I roll my eyes thinking of Mam Griffin and her old mouth falling on both corners.

           Good think Aiden told me to call if I couldn’t move the corpse.

           Aiden is my best friend, he’s my only friend. He works at the sheriff office but isn’t really respected, as he’s a man. We used to be really close when we were young, but when we started dating, the community went mad. We were tolerated until the Coven reminded my mom I should never have child, to avoid spreading the curse. So they made us break up, made him marry Ophelia’s sister, and now he already has two kids, boys…

           Lost in my thoughts, I don’t look at the ground and stumble.

“What the…” I grunt, catching myself on my hands.

When I look up, goosebumps appear on my arms.

           Just before me, against a tree : a black American car lays pathetically, windows shattered, broken. I have already seen a dead body, but never one smashed against a tree, so I start to shake a little.

“Please don’t be too gross…” I whisper walking toward the car, my knife in my hand. “No brain everywhere or whatever.”

A shoe, a leg. And finally, all of him. He’s not in pieces, he’s nothing like I could have imagined. The knife in my hand falls on the ground.

           Behind the wheel, the hunter lays, peace on his bruised and swollen face, blood everywhere. One of his hand is holding his stomach, and his jeans are soaked in his own blood, pieces of glass are planted on his arms. There is something brave, something noble about that man. An inexplicable something that makes me, just for an instant, regret that I’ll never see him move, or talk. I stay silent for a second, confused by the sadness invading me, looking at the most dangerous man I ever seen with bitterness in the back of my mouth.

           That’s when I notice it, the small steady movement of his chest.

           He’s not dead.

           I look at my feet and see the knife, take it with shaking hands. I enter the car slowly, cautiously, to get closer to his throat. It smells like blood and leather and this man in here ; and it’s cold. With a trembling hand I raise the blade above him, hoping I would managed to be precise and quick, because somehow, I don’t want him to suffer more. And the truth is, he terrifies me.

           He opens his eyes.

           He unexpectedly opens his eyes and his pupils contract when they meet daylight, landing on me. My breath get stuck in my throat and I just stay completely still, looking back at his green eyes, my knife still raised in my two hands. The fear is paralyzing me, but my fascination grows. He closes his eyes again in a weak sigh, obviously ready to die.

           I try to hit him with the knife, I really try. But my hands won’t move, at all. Looking down, I panic : What if I can’t kill him ? They would severely punish me for that. Treat every hunter like he had already slaughtered your family, because that’s what he would do if you let him run. That’s what I’ve been taught.

           Still…

           I lower my arms in a whine, cursing in my head. After several hesitations, I put a cautious finger on his pulse point, he just passed out. I look around and my brain goes crazy. If I don’t kill him, it will be even crueler because he will die here, in extreme pain ; but I just can’t do it.

“Okay…” I pant because of the stress, rubbing my face.

If I put him somewhere his partner will find him… But the community will find him too, kill him, and kill me. Or I hide him until he can walk, so he just runs away. That’s crazy… Ollie’s ancient cabin is not far, maybe I could hide him there, just for the night, he will probably die before morning though, so I’ll just have to throw him in the river tomorrow… I’m dizzy now. Shit !

           I push the opposite door of the car and get out, then I turn around and grab the collar of his vest. With all my strength, I pull him out of the car and he loudly falls on the floor with a groans of pain. I let him go and take a step back, I feel like I am poking a sleeping bear, it’s terrifying. But he doesn’t move, his eyes stay closed, only his breathing fastened a little with pain.

October 27, 1pm.

           I fall on the chair in a groan, sweating, shaking, panting. Wiping my face, I realize I probably put blood on my forehead, but I don’t mind.

           I look at him, still unconscious, laying on the wooden floor. It took me three hours to drag him in the cabin, three hours of moving a massive man on a forest ground without hurting him more ; I have never done something that hard in my life.

           Ollie’s cabin is my second home, I know this place by heart. When he abandoned it, I made it my place, and now, even if it doesn’t have electricity, I spend a lot of time here just hiding from the world. There is water and a little gas cooker, a very rustic shower and oil lamps. Ollie left because, when his wife passed away, he had no magic heater and light anymore, so the cute little wood cabin became completely inhospitable.

           For me it is enough, and to hide a dying hunter, I couldn’t ask for more. I look at the room : only a bed for two, two chairs and an old TV, the humble table and the gas hotplates, a closet with old pan and a few utensils. And a first aid kit.

           I take it and thank the goddesses that there are some magical things in it too, Ollie was a trapper and was often wounded, so there is still a bit of that ointment that stops bleeding magically.

           Kneeling close to the hunter, I check his breathing once again, like I did every five minutes in the woods.

           His face is blue and green, his lips white, swollen wounds soaking him in red above all of this. He must be broken everywhere inside, I just need to be sure there is no internal bleeding. My trembling hands hold the scissors I found, the dry blood allowing the cold metal to stick on my yet sweating skin. I push his vest and flannel on the side and start to cut his t-shirt open, it’s saturated with blood, some of it dry, making it hard to cut the fabric.

           I hiss at the sight of the open wound on his stomach, I can’t be sure if any vital organ is touched, what’s sure is, with the blood he lost, most men would already be dead. It’s soaking my hands so I hurry to put some ointment on it. The rest of his chest is covered in bruises, and smaller cuts I can fix. One of them damaged his tattoo, anti-possession I think. That would make sense for a hunter… I’ll give him another, that’s really not the more urgent.

           I open his belt and take down his pants, making his phone slip out of his pocket, it’s shattered. When my eyes look down, I frown : His leg is badly broken and I’m pretty sure he would need surgery.

“Fuck…” I grunt beneath my teeth.

           As I start to sweat bullets, my heart beats like crazy. I know I have to move his bone back, I have no other choice, except end his suffering. I did it once or twice with Misses Gerald, the vet, when I was her assistant… But only on animals.

“Just don’t faint… don’t faint…” I murmur to myself, taking his leg above his ankle, firmly in my hands.

“1… 2…”

“ARH !” he suddenly cries out, immediately passing out again.

I think I made it.

           Still kneeling, I let my head fall on the wooden floor, trying to catch my breath. My head is dizzy but I can’t wait, I have to clean every wounds before it gets infected, I have to check his back too, and make a solid splint for his leg.

           During all the process, my stress is eating me alive. The stress of having his life in my hands, the stress of the terrible treason I’m committing, the stress of all these wounds I barely know how to heal. So I start talking to him…

“Okay, stranger, just, please don’t kill me… See ? I told you it was going to be better without that piece of glass on your back… Oh no, you’re burning up… Hold on stranger, I’ll find antibiotics somewhere…”

October 27, 5:45pm.

           I throw his clothes in the river, hoping it will be enough to convince who needs to be that the man is dead. Watching them go away with the flow, I wonder if someone will look for him. I heard hunters rarely have wives and kids… But maybe a friend, a partner.

           The blood redden the water ; and watching it, I take a second to think about the risks I’m taking. His phone in my hand, I wish I could go through his photos or anything, to learn more about him. Just a name would be great. I need to know if I just made the worst mistake of History, what if he’s really a monster ? Or just an horrible person ? What if he’s a violent father ? I heard hunters were brutes… They kill my people anyway.

           Even if he is severely wounded, still unconscious, and that I tied him strongly, I have still that fear of him being behind me all the time…

           I have to hurry. Old Mam Griffin has to be convinced he’s dead, then I have to take diner with my mom, still treating me like a teen, and listen to my sister’s today masterstrokes. And after that, during the moon rituals, I’ll enter the vet’s office at night to take pills, syringes, bandages, and other stuffs to try to make the stranger survive. I have to find a lot of pain killers too, I think there are some in my mother’s closet.

           I have never felt so alive, maybe because I know I could die any moment, from his hands or theirs, maybe because, for the first time of my life, I have a secret.

           I can’t wait to go back, I’m so curious, terrified and exited at the same time. I need to take care of all of his wounds, bring him something to eat and drink even if I have no idea how to feed him. Everything will probably take me all night, I can’t mess up, his life is in my hands and mine is… Well I guess I will need a lot of luck.

           I just… I just want to talk to him I guess…

October 27, 7pm

           I try not to look at her in the eye because I’m sure Mam Griffin could read my lie on my face. I hand her the little bottle of blood with my head low, and my hands and clothes still entirely bloody, but I’m used to be dirty ; they only give me dirty work. Ophelia is still sobbing like the annoying little snot she is and I really try not to look irritated.

           The old witch’s dry hand takes the flak in silence with a disapproving look. Everybody is looking at us, I turn my eyes a little to see Aiden, and he gives me side smile. She opens the bottle and smells the blood for a long time, so long it actually becomes awkward, but just for me.

“Are you positive that he’s dead, Y/n ?”

“He was when I found him” I lie. “It took me a long time to drag him to the river, but his blood reddened the sacred water, Grandma.”

I take a step back and bow my back as we have to when the Grandma is about to tell a Truth.

           She opens her eyes again and they are white now. Her skinny grey hand brings the blood to her lips, she tastes it. Flashes pass inside of her eyes, but too quickly for me to see anything in it except shadows of men.

“Winchester” she grunts with a look between disgust and fear.

A rumble invades the room and I try to remember what that name is supposed to evoke me. I see my mom put a hand on her mouth and even Aiden seem a little impressed. Ophelia stays silent, her mouth wide open while her mom takes her hand oh-so-proudly.

“Dean Winchester.”

_______________________________

 ***FEEDBACK IS EVERYTHING

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[nitewrighter]

A Second Opinion Pt. 5

(Previously Titled “Villains want a Valkyrie)

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4

Read it on AO3 Here

-----

Reaper was lying on his side in a hospital gown on an examination table as several labtechs fussed over him while Moira looked on. Beneath the too-cold fluorescent lights of Talon’s med-bay, it was the sort of image that would make you laugh, not because it was funny, but rather because it was uncomfortable with the unnerving vulnerability of it all, but no one was laughing. One of the labtechs handed Moira the syringe and she quietly took it.

“You know this whole mess started with me having one ass cheek out,” said Reaper.

“Ventrogluteal injections and pelvic bone marrow samples are very normal medical procedures, Gabriel,” said Moira, holding the syringe up to the light and squinting at it.

“Are you sure taking more bits out of me is going to help?” said Reaper.

“Bone marrow extraction takes its toll, but it wasn’t as if you were mission ready anyway,” said Moira. One corner of her mouth twisted up with her focus, “I am seeing some nanite particulates in your marrow, which is to be expected... obviously...” she trailed off slightly and huffed, knowing there wasn’t much she could observe just holding it up to the light, “I’ll examine it more closely and run more tests. See if there’s anything I missed since the last time.” 

“See what the Doc says about it,” said Reaper.

“That’s why she’s here, isn’t it?” said Moira, no bitterness leaving her voice.

“How is she?” said Reaper.

“Stubborn and passive aggressive as ever,” said Moira.

“I mean do you think she can help?” said Reaper.

“I believe you had my opinion before we brought her her here,” said Moira.

“Moira,” said Reaper.

“That remains to be seen,” said Moira, “If she can’t, well there’s always a bullet and the canals. And if she can... there’s a bullet and the canals.”

----

“No, it should only take a few minutes--” McCree was talking into his comm, pacing back and forth in front of Athena’s monitor. Some irritated chatter could be heard on the other side. “No, I don’t only call you when I need a teleporter! That’s ridiculous! We’re buddies, right?”

McCree seemed to wince a little as he received what could only be Satya’s eviscerating assessments of his character on the other end of the comm.

“Tell you what--Do me this solid and I’ll get that weird blotch out of the orca’s couch that you’re always complaining about,” said McCree.

A monosyllabic response was heard on the other end.

“You hate that blotch!” said McCree. McCree was chewing his lip as he paced back and forth in the room, Satya continuing to admonish and verbally cut him to ribbons on the other side of the comm. He could feel Hanzo’s steady gaze tracking him back and forth, but even worse was Baptiste’s eyes on him through the vid-com.

 Genji himself seemed to have gotten into the habit of repeatedly fidgeting with his prosthetic arm’s shuriken loading mechanism to try and stave off his maelstrom of worries about Angela, sliding his wrist plate back and forth and clicking the shuriken out of place and back in. We should be going now, he thought, What if they’re hurting her? She’s fighting back. She has to. And they’ll hurt her for fighting back. They’re hurting her right now and you’re here and you’re a useless useless useless stupid pile of nuts and bolts with a handful of organs slapped on there who should have gone with her to that conference. This wouldn’t have happened if you were at that conference but nooooo you didn’t want to sit through a few 3 hour lectures and now---

“...is it always like this?” Baptiste spoke a little softly to Hanzo.

“I’m still getting used to it myself,” said Hanzo with a chuckle.

They’ve been talking for five minutes and he’s got a chuckle? It took me weeks to get Hanzo to crack a smile! Okay. Shut up brain. The Doc. This is about the doc. The thought flinched through McCree’s mind and blanked out Satya’s voice on the comm only briefly before he snapped back to attention and blurted out, “Dagnabbit, Satya, lives are on the line!”

There was a pause on Satya’s end and then an, “Understood.”

“...Seriously?” said McCree.

“Lives are on the line, as you say,” said Satya, “I’ll be there with the necessary equipment for a teleporter in a few minutes.”

“Th..thanks...” said McCree, honestly amazed he managed to convince her. Then again she was . He clicked out of the comm. 

“A few minutes,” he said, looking back at the Shimada brothers and Baptiste on the Vid-com, “Then we can have you over here like that.” He snapped his fingers before turning to Genji, “I can still call it off--so I want you to be sure about this---”

“I’m sure---” Genji started.

“You’re not sure, you’re scared, and that’s fine,” said McCree, “But we shouldn’t trust this guy just because you’re desperate to get the Doc back. You can’t just go on Hanzo’s word.”

Genji straightened his shoulders, “You’re right,” he said, before turning to Baptiste on the screen, “You said you worked with Doctor Ziegler in Venezuela, right?”

“Right,” said Baptiste, a little hesitantly.

“Do you have anything on you that might... verify that work together?”

“I’ve tried to leave as little a trail as possible, you understand,” said Baptiste, “Doctor Ziegler was pretty intense and secretive as well at the time, so we weren’t exactly best friends.”

“Hm...” Genji looked thoughtful.

“She was... pretty set on having no one recognize her from her posters,” Baptiste let out a hapless chuckle, “And she couldn’t stand being called ‘Mercy.’” 

Genji seemed to perk up at this.

“We did take a photo or two together, but... those are back at my clinic...” said Baptiste trailing off, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to tell you. We were both very focused on helping our patients at the time.”

“You said she leaves an impression,” said Genji.

“She does!” said Baptiste, “Smart, tough, focused---But I’m pretty sure what I saw of her is what anyone would see of her.” He paused, “I will say, she brews the absolute worst pot of coffee I have ever tasted.”

Genji’s visor brightened. “What did you say?”

“Well I wouldn’t expect her to be a barista or culinary genius--” Baptiste went on.

“But did you say it was the worst?” said Genji, the lights on his shoulders practically blazing with excitement.

“Oh, by far, the worst,” said Baptiste, hardly paying attention, “It was honestly impressive how bad this coffee was--like I’m pretty sure we were only a mile north of a coffee farm. You could not have gotten more premium, locally sourced beans, and it still tasted like she filtered the grounds through the devil’s asshole.”

“They did work together...” Genji said, a breathless awe in his voice.

The door slid open and Genji, Hanzo, and McCree, all turned around to see Satya standing in the doorway.

“Satya!” McCree’s face lit up, “I can’t tell you how much it means that you’re--”

Satya stepped aside with her usual curt grace and Jack marched into the doorway. “Care telling me what you wanted a teleporter for?”

“You narc’d?” said McCree, looking at Satya. She gave him a sharp sidelong glance through her visor. His shoulders slumped. “Of course you narc’d. You’re dating the only narc bigger than you on this watchpoint.”

“Of course. You must admit that your whole situation was highly dubious,” said Satya.

Both Genji and Hanzo gave a distressed look to McCree and McCree’s stomach lurched at the thought of having to play the advocate for someone Hanzo seemed a bit too excited to bring to the Watchpoint, but he remembered Mercy still in Talon’s clutches and straightened his shoulders. They needed Baptiste. As much as McCree hated to admit it, they needed whatever help they could get.

“Well look, Jack,” McCree started, “You’re not strike commander anymore, and we handled ourselves fine for a few months without--”

McCree’s shoulders slumped at the sound of Winston clearing his throat. Winston leaned into the doorway behind Jack and Satya with an awkward-but-endearing wave.

“Hanzo,” Winston tented his thick fingers, “I do appreciate you being proactive in recruiting other members but--”

Jack pointed a finger at the screen, “Can he hear us?”

“Yes he can,” said Baptiste, flatly.

Winston cleared his throat again and Jack lowered his finger. 

“As I was saying, Hanzo, I appreciate bringing in extra help, but you’ve only recently gone off probation. If anyone’s going to be doing any vetting around here, it’s going to be--”

“Satya?” Baptiste spoke up.

Symmetra suddenly perked up, “Lieutenant Augustin?”

“Oh come on, you know her, too?” said McCree.

“Only briefly--You got away from Vishkar?” Baptiste’s eyes were wide from amazement.

Satya cleared her throat, “Well--um--yes,” she said, curling the fingers of her prosthetic hand tentatively.

Baptiste huffed with some relief. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear that. And you’re fighting alongside Overwatch?”

“Well.. they saved my life, and I should hate to see other people manipulated and taken advantage of like I was. So... here I am,” said Satya.

“Can we maybe not spill entire agent dossiers to unverified free agents?” Jack muttered.

“No-no, let them talk,” said Winton.

“Winston--” Jack’s teeth were gritted as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“This life suits you, Satya. I like the new look,” said Baptiste.

“Oh--it’s not a new look, the hair-is--is--it’s just down,” said Satya, fidgeting with her hair a bit, “You look well, also. The beard suits you.”

Baptiste chuckled.

McCree was slack-jawed. ‘What the hell is happening’ was lined out in every crease and whisker on his face. Baptiste knew Satya. Satya, who may as well have grown up in a hyperbaric sensory deprivation chamber for all Vishkar did to cut her off from the world. And, even more baffling, Satya seemed to like him. Satya, who didn’t like anybody. Except Pharah. And Ana. And Hanzo. And Zenyatta.  And Genji. And Mei. And Mercy. Okay, all things considered McCree probably just took it personally that Satya didn’t seem terribly keen on him.

“So you do know him?” said Winston.

“It... it was back when I was in Vishkar,” said Satya, turning to Winston, “So I am not sure how... legitimate my attestation may be, but I can assure you that he’s an excellent medic.”

“And with Ana and Lúcio deployed we are short on Medics...” said Winston, thoughtfully.

“I have biotic fields,” said Jack, stiffly.

Both Winston and Symmetra gave Jack an almost pitying sidelong glance, and Jack just huffed and folded his arms.

“Respectfully speaking, from what these three have told me, I don’t believe Doctor Ziegler has a lot of time for deliberation on our end,” said Baptiste, “If it helps, I can take the pulse rounds out of my biotic launcher. No offense, all medicine.”

“Biotic launcher?” said Genji.

“Modified from a standard Caribbean Coalition pulse rifle,” said Baptiste, hauling up a somewhat clunky-looking gun.

“Sure, let’s just let the guy who seems to magically know Hanzo and Satya and the Doc splash us with god-knows-what,” said McCree, rolling his eyes.

“I know what,” said Hanzo, giving a sharp look to McCree, “He’s saved many lives with that launcher. He’s saved mine with it, too.”

“...Ah,” said McCree.

“So both of you are willing to vouch for him?” said Winston, looking between Hanzo and Symmetra.

“I understand my standing in this organization isn’t as established as others--” said Symmetra.

“And mine far less so,” said Hanzo, “But yes.”

“Yes, we can trust him,” said Symmetra.

“And he did know Angela. I’m sure of it,” said Genji.

“Winston, if you’re sure about this...” said Jack.

“I’m not,” said Winston, “But losing Doctor Ziegler would not only devastate this organization, but biotic research all over the world. It’s a risk we have to take. Athena--you have a lock on his coordinates?”

“Yes,” chimed Athena.

“Satya?” said Winston.

Satya stepped forward and made a sweeping gesture with her prosthetic, “Now, this may be jarring if you’ve never teleported before.”

“I can handle it,” said Baptiste, smiling, “And... thank you. I’ll do my best to earn your trust.” 

“Winston--” Genji put a hand on Winston’s shoulder, “Thank you.”

“You can thank him when we get the Doc back,” said McCree.

“Let’s just hope Lynx Seventeen has those schematics ready,” said Winston.

----

“As I suspected... no avascular necrosis...” said Mercy, pushing past several x-rays on a computer screen in her swivel chair before swiveling to face the microscope. It annoyed Moira to see Mercy working as if she wasn’t completely at Talon’s, for lack of a better word, mercy, but then again, lab work could be a comfort in and of itself. The one thing she could have control over. “He remained stable when you were taking the bone marrow sample?” said Mercy, looking through the microscope.

“He did,” said Moira, “What were your observations on the samples I gave you?”

“His white blood cell count is unnervingly low, and there doesn’t seem to be any particular spike in toxins in his urine,” said Mercy, “But from what other data you gave me, in theory the nanites should be picking up the slack with his immune system.”

“’In theory,’” said Moira, folding her arms, “His lack of any significant bacterial infections is proof enough that they are picking up the slack.”

“They’re also destroying his body. I’m going to need a clearer timetable on how fast his deterioration is going if I’m going to help him,” said Mercy.

“If I knew, I would tell you,” said Moira, pushing her red hair back, “That’s the thing about nanites--they’re meant to keep the body going even in the event of catastrophic organ failure. In theory his heart could stop and he could keep... keep...” she closed her eyes, “The nervous system and skeletal systems are probably the final threshold.” She remembered Reaper’s finger falling off and her stomach lurched, “There’s already structural failure in his extremities, but no loss of coordination yet.”

“This is what happens when you push the human body far past what it’s supposed to do...” Mercy said mostly to herself in a sigh.

Something stung in the pit of Moira’s stomach at those words. She could have just shrugged it off and called Mercy a coward with regards to science as she always did. The human body was a mess, after all--the spine and knees structural nightmares, the brain a complete mess of chemicals whose imbalances were nigh impossible to decipher save through the crapshoot of behavioral observation, and of course there was the whole matter of cells that sometimes simply forgot how to properly propagate and then ended up killing the whole damn body. The human body could be improved. The human body had to be improved. But, and in later reflections she would suppose this was probably her own distress over Gabriel wanting Mercy to feel that same guilt and fury, instead of saying any of this, she said, “Of course you feel that way, if you had your way, Genji would probably still be in crutches now.”

Mercy bristled and swiveled around in her chair. “Excuse me?” 

“It was easier to ignore his true nature when he was rolling around in a wheelchair or looking up at you from those infirmary beds,” said Moira, perfectly calm.

“The cybernetics Blackwatch gave him were abhorrent,” Mercy seethed, “The damage to his mental health was--”

“What he needed. No one liked looking at what Blackwatch was doing. Not Jack, and not you. But he needed it. You have no idea how dearly he needed it. What was done to him put a hunger in him no coddling therapy could sate.  You didn’t see what I saw in the Venice incident,” a chuckle rippled out of her, “And then of course Overwatch puts him in shining armor as soon as they put him on Oxton’s ever-so-marketable strike team. I suppose I can’t blame him for eventually believing he was what they told him he was.”

Mercy stood up so fast she knocked the chair back and it thudded against the table. “You have the gall to assume you know his true nature from seeing him at his lowest point?” Moira only needed to raise her withered hand, the node of her biotic rig glowing faintly purple, and Mercy drew back slightly.

“Is that not our true nature?” said Moira, she flicked her hand slightly, and Mercy flinched a little, knowing what would happen with contact, “Do what we must to survive? Do what we can to avoid pain?” She looked back at the screens displaying Reaper’s cells in their endless battle and dance. “The Americans launch the Soldier Enhancement Program so that we might survive the Omnics. I inject Gabriel with nanites so he might survive the SEP serum. You help us stabilize him in the hopes of your own survival. That’s all we ever do. That’s all we ever are,” she looked back at the nanites on the screen, “Right down to our most basic parts.”

“The world is a lot less lonely when you assume everyone is as monstrous as you, isn’t it?” the words slipped out of Mercy.

Moira didn’t want to think of what she did next as impulsive or a reaction of anger. Instinctive, maybe, a fulfillment of her word. As her hand clamped down on Mercy’s shoulder and Mercy screamed with the biotic rig sucking the energy out of her, Moira reminded herself that she had told Mercy at the start of all this that failure to comply would result in pain. But it’s not as if she’s not complying, is she? Moira’s own inner critic spoke up, You brought her here to help Gabriel. You were the one who brought up Genji--It’s almost funny how fast just bringing him up upsets her. It would be funny if it weren’t so sad. Moira didn’t release until Mercy’s knees buckled. She was gripping the edge of the desk, gasping for breath.

“The world is as monstrous as me,” said Moira, “Get that through your head and maybe you might live a little longer.”

[larryfanfiction]

Fairy! AU

🍃 May We Stay Lost On Our Way Home by LoadedGunn (74k)

Harry thought he had a handle on things. He hasn’t gotten papped in over a month, even the most zealous of fans have given up on finding his location, the Fortress is starting to look hospitable, and Niall just learned how to make shrimp bisque. Even having a massive crush on a gorgeous mythical woodland creature was working out for him.

Most of the time.

On March 31st, Harry Styles disappears. Though many speculate, only two people know where to find him: Niall, his former guitarist, and Zayn, who follows where Niall leads.

The fact the biggest boy band in the world broke up two weeks earlier might be related to the disappearance. The fact Harry meets a fairy named Louis in the woods is a whole other matter.

(Liam is a centaur.)

🍃 hold on to your stars before they fade by adelagia (31k)

The first time they meet, it is sunrise, and Harry is naked.

(Or, the one where Harry is a lost fairy, and Louis takes him in.)

🍃 got me losing every breath (i’m latching onto you) by kissingiscool (14k)

It’s a blur to him, chasing Louis down from point A to point B, through a maze of pathways and a chorus of short giggles, chromaticity of canary and fern as dirt sticks to the soles of his running feet, and he feels alive, more alive than he’s ever felt in all of the twenty-five years of his life. More alive from the time he first when skiing. More alive than from when he had his first kiss. Just looking at Louis gave him a new definition of alive. He doesn’t know how long he’s been chasing, but the pounding of his heart and huff and puff of each breath that’s punched out of his lungs is so addicting that he doesn’t ever want to stop chasing him.

(or an au where louis is a fairy with a fear of thunderstorms and a talent of knitting and harry is a vet with three cats and a lot of love.)

🍃 Black with Autumn Rain by whimsicule (93k)

“Thank you,” Geoff says, taking a sip of his tea. “What did you tell him?”

Louis has a sip as well, lets the tea burn down his throat too quickly, too hot, and he feels it all the way down to his stomach. “The truth. Essentially,” he replies after a moment, licking his lips, relishing the slightly bitter taste of the brew that’s never quite strong enough for Louis’ liking. At least it’s not decaf. “That my dog scented it. That I didn’t touch the body. That I came here first thing.”

Geoff nods pensively. “Did he believe you?”

“Probably not. There’s only so many people who can drown on dry land before it gets fishy.”

or: Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren’t exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

🍃 Away With The Fairies by Snowy38 (22k)

Harry liked pretty things.

Mostly the ornate flowers that grew around him, the trees majestically climbing towards the sky, sometimes the little colourful birds that flitted around in the branches of those trees.

Harry’s wings themselves were considered beautiful, big butterfly-like shaped things glistening pink in the light but white underneath, almost translucent.

He fluttered them behind him, feeling the breeze brushing off them. He was high up where he could see the most, studiously watching the human life on the ground below.

He shouldn’t be here of course, he was beyond the borders of the part of the forest where his kind lived, but he couldn’t help it.

Because Harry had found the prettiest thing of all.

🍃 Collision by itjustkindahappened (207k)

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

🍃 I Won’t Treat You Like You’re Typical by moutonrose (5k)

Louis is a pixie and Harry is an elf. They meet at X-Factor auditions and fall in love.

🍃 Boiling Blood Will Circulate by whoknows (42k)

The wait isn’t long before something starts rustling in the bushes. Harry takes aim, squeezes the trigger, body moving unconsciously. They’re motions he’s done a thousand times before, and his body knows how to do it without the input of his brain now. It’s what makes him such a good shot.

He misses. The shot misses.

Something howls in the woods, a pretty clear indication that Harry hit it, but there’s no telltale sounds of a big body dropping, no animal charging out at him to take him out before he can finish the job.

Something does turn and run, though. “Fuck,” Harry spits out, scrambling to his feet and slinging the rifle back over his shoulder, giving chase. He’s not going to lose this hunt.

The trail of blood goes on longer than Harry thought it would. He doesn’t know how long he runs for, but his muscles are burning, chest heaving with exertion, until the trail just - goes dead. No more blood, just like that.

“Fuck,” Harry says.

🍃 Gently As She Goes by graceling_in_a_suit (33k)

Louis had been Harry’s best friend for as long as she could remember. She was a shoulder to cry on, a head of hair to practice braiding on, a mind as mischievous as Harry’s to scheme up antics and pranks with, someone to fall asleep next to when the nights were cold or when they both got lonely. Someone to dance with, to learn with, to laugh with.

They were girls together.

Then Louis left.

A modern fairytale (literally!) featuring a quest to bring a lost girl home, celtic goddesses, braiding, friendship, true love, and magic.

🍃 Delight in Masques by kassio (27k)

Popstar Louis Tomlinson has been pulling one over on the mortals for years. In the five years since he put on a human illusion and tried out for the X Factor, none of them have realised that he’s one of the Fair Folk – a cat shapeshifter, to be precise – and he’d like to keep it that way.

When he returns to the X Factor as a guest judge, the last thing he expects is for some half-Siren fool to use magic on the judges. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what Harry Styles does. Now Louis has to track down some rogue changeling before he exposes them all. Even worse? Apparently, Harry doesn’t even know what he is.

(An urban fantasy adventure, set in the world of - but not crossing over with - the October Daye book series. No need to be familiar with those books; I just want to give credit where it’s due on a lot of the worldbuilding.)

🍃 The Prince Of Light by jacaranda_bloom (35k)

Louis was found abandoned at a hospital at six months old and adopted by an older couple who raised him. Now twenty, he studies by night and by day works as a live-in au pair for a family with three little girls. One of the girls, Holly, swears there is a Garden Fairy coming and eating treats she leaves out in the cubby house each night.

When the family goes away for a two week holiday, Louis is secretly tasked with feeding the Fairy. While laying out the food one night he falls from the cubby house and is found by Harry. Harry is different and Louis is fascinated. But as Louis learns how different Harry really is, he discovers his own true home and a very surprising past he never knew.

Cue badgers, bananas and cookies, soulmates, a whole other world, and a future he’d never imagined.

🍃 The Fairy Ring by thedeathchamber (46k)

Harry has dreamed of a world outside the tiny village of Holmes Chapel for as long as he can remember… a world full of magic and adventure and true love. It was nothing but a childhood dream, however, until an old family friend comes bearing word of a plot against Harry’s life and a very dangerous truth: Harry is the rightful heir to the crown and must embark on a perilous quest to reclaim his throne from the ruthless would-be King Simon. But in the end Harry will find himself fighting for more than a crown, and on the verge of losing something much more precious than his sovereign power. Because magic might be real, but life is not a fairy tale, and Harry is a prince up against a very big dragon.

Or: a medieval fantasy AU in which Harry is a prince in disguise and Louis is the king of the faeries.

More Masterposts

[taegi-krp]

1. The road so far

My dream and goal was to become a vet my whole life. I ditched that to study animal behaviour instead of health, so I changed my goal to Zoology when I was 17/18. I enrolled in Biology school, I couldn’t handle how much they made you study so I dropped out.

I applied the next year to Film school. It was my worst nightmare. Worst years ever, meltdowns, panic attacks, my OCD spiked and I couldn’t cope with anything anymore. I saw a psychiatrist and a psychologist for over a year. I absolutely hated everything, including myself.

Then I enrolled for a master’s degree in a better school and they were the best two years I’ve had in school but they lead me nowhere. They promised jobs at the end of both schools, but at the end they just said “not our problem”. I never had an internship, never got interviews, no contact with the outside world. Because that’s how this country works, no one gives a shit, nothing happens. Most young people are moving abroad because there’s no jobs, no economy, no good salaries, etc.

In my case, I felt very frustrated, I had studied for years, I was one of the very best in every single one of my classes and it lead me nowhere, it’s like nothing mattered. What was it all for? Why study so hard? Why spend all that time with things I now despise? I told myself I’d fight the system, I’d make a good portfolio and apply to different companies to edit stuff but the world progressed and now editing jobs are extremely rare. Especially because idk how to work the new software and I don’t have the strength in me to get into something yet again only to feel like it was all for nothing for the 1000th time in my life. I know it’s a bad way to think of things but I’m EXHAUSTED.

I’m tired of failing over and over but I’m also so much more tired of not getting anywhere. I’m trying so hard to get things going for me but idk where to start or how to start it. I can’t afford getting into new schooling, new courses, I need a job and there’s nothing here. And now with COVID there’s nothing anywhere. I feel like a total wreck, like a sad story, like a second character in my own life.

2. The present day

Aside from being constantly reminded of my inability to do something for myself, to get shit done, to go abroad, to afford things, I live with someone who treats me like my mental limitations aren’t real, constant criticism, high expectations and bossing around like I’m 10.

The cat is another thing. It just comes into my life to confirm how badly I’m failing at every damn thing in my life. I know it’s not directly my fault but it’s something I’m trying so hard on but can’t do it. And now I learn there’s another cat who just gave birth to 4 kittens and one was squished by a car just across the street. And I know myself, I have to go look for them myself and try to capture yet another cat to neuter her so she doesn’t have more babies. But anyway, I’m doooooooooooooooone with this country so bad, you have no idea. I hate it so much, I don’t consider it mine, I don’t care for it and I’m actually insulted if someone calls me a portuguese because it’s how bad I hate it. I hate the culture, I hate the people, I hate the government, the social life, the art, the music, the language itself.

I have gruesome intrusive thoughts. Sometimes it’s about something bad happening to my pets, sometimes it’s me harming them because that’s just how my ocd works, sometimes it’s bad things that happened to me that keep playing on a loop in my mind.

One of those things is my first time. I’m so disgusted by it, so so so so so so so disgusted by it, if my thoughts bring it up intensely I will physically gag, like literally. He texted me the other day asking how my love life was and I was like “still taken, waiting for covid to let me see him” and “him” is you obviously. I dropped the convo instantly and unfollowed him so that I don’t get notifs of his anymore. He’s everything I hate in a man, in a person. And it went beyond anything I wanted. I said no. I said no multiple times. I peed the motherfucking bed I just wanted it to stop. I can’t process the disgust and even if I can lock those memories for long periods of time, sometimes I get triggered to open that drawer and I feel physically sick about it.

It’s what happens with everything else too. I can’t handle it so I store it some place to be handled later. It allows me to lead a normal-ish life. But sometimes that bitterness comes out.

Last night was one of them. It was about something I felt that I hadn’t felt in a long time, like I was replaceable, not important, not worth the trouble to other people. No one taking a stand against injustice makes my skin crawl. Jimin treating my Tae like that triggered that feeling in me that I felt through my teen years for a long time. I was replaced, humiliated, treated like I didn’t matter. And even though I know I’m none of those things, those feelings were there when I was younger and they resurface when something similar happens.

When I get triggered with those things, I become defensive and anxious and I act on fear, revenge and anger. I lash out and I do things that I wouldn’t do otherwise, which was what happened with me telling Jimin all I knew he didn’t wanna hear.

I’m just tired. So tired. I sleep so much because of it.

I know what I must do to change that but my brain tells me it’s just a waste of time and nothing I ever do will take me anywhere because that’s just how I’m designed to be. Realistically speaking, that sounds ridiculous and I know that but it’s what I’m told by my own self, my demons if I may.

[silver-falling-star]

Sing me a song, o muse, of your bitter hatred against catcher in the rye bc SAME

Oooooh boy, I smell one of my long winded rants coming on. Strap in folks its about to be a wild ride.

So, Ima preface this by saying that I have NOT read it since I was forced to read it in 11th grade. For like, several fucking reasons. (the primary one being that I don’t want to, the 2nd one being I don’t know which bookshelf my dad stashed my copy on. He stashed all my required readings on various bookshelves after I was done with them. Because we were all given copies for free by the teachers that we were allowed to keep. I’ll chalk this up to private school benefits I guess? I’ve been out of the public school circuit since the end of 5th grade) So basically my memory of like, most of the events that take place in the book are foggy at best and unremembered at worst.

@ my mutuals and followers who like this book, that’s fine you do you, but I personally am not and probably will never be a fan of Catcher in the Rye. My feelings of why I dislike it are my opinions and I’m not gonna force them on you.

Problem 1: Main character is an unsympathetic asshole

My biggest gripe about the book is honestly a gripe I have about SEVERAL books. Unlikable characters, and I don’t necessarily mean written poorly (though I don’t remember being awed by how the book was written, I’ll be honest.) I mean unsympathetic asshole little bastards that make you want to just chuck the book across the room. Other books that share this problem are The Great Gatsby (that book is hot fucking garbage in terms of likeable characters and I WILL die on that fucking hill do not even @ me), Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie (Main character is an asshole little snobby bitch and despite being a murder mystery written in first person she literally figures things out at such a pace its not fun for the reader because she STILL ends up caught in shit situations she KNEW WAS GOING TO GO DOWN BECAUSE SHES SUCH A SPECIAL LITTLE SHIT- okay that’s a rant for a different post) and The King Must Die. (If you ever want to read a book with shit diction, pick it up.)

Now, as a writer/roleplayer of almost a decade, I’ve made plenty of characters that fall into the unsympathetic asshole role. My problem isn’t with the archetype, it’s often used and often done well (fandoms later trying to apologize for them aside) My PROBLEM comes when that’s either the archetype for the only character given any spotlight, or ALL the characters have that problem. (see, Great Gatsby.) Holden Caulfield(or however the fuck you spell it) is an unsympathetic asshole, and also the character who’s perspective is the only one we get to see, and the only character we really know much about. (Mainly cause he just doesn’t deign to care to give a legitimate effort in giving a damn about anyone else aside from how innocent children/his sister are. More on how creepy that shit is later.) Making a book like this means that I’m far less likely to enjoy it because I want to be able to root for someone. I can root for an asshole, so long as they’re likeable in some regard. Holden is a grade A fuckboy in the making and as such I am not a fan.

TL/DR: It’s possible to have likeable unsympathetic asshole characters, it is almost impossible to do that if that’s all you have exposure too in your cast.

Problem 2: I was really not in the best place to receive such a fucking depresso espresso lesson about life.

Switching gears momentarily from problems with the writing/book itself to problems with the timing of this book showing up in my life. High school was the time when all my trauma I’d successfully… repressed? Avoided dealing with? whatever, basically all my mental health shit suddenly decided to spring itself on me and yell “SURPRISE, YOU’RE MENTALLY FUCKED AND WILL NEVER BE THE SAME!” in 10th grade and it wasn’t until halfway through 11th grade that I even started getting a handle on shit. I almost failed high school and it was *bad*, especially for someone who was just trying to get to college so I could get to vet school and be qualified for a job that requires an ass load of education. So in walks this fucking book and it’s message of “adulthood is a sham, nothing matters and you really should just fuck around and do whatever because it’s all bullshit anyway. Childhood was where it’s at.”

Like???? Alright, that’s not what I need to hear when I’m barely passing high school. Go to fucking therapy and get some help, we all have trauma and therapy is the best path to work through it. I dunno like, yeah okay some people need to hear that message at whatever time in their life they read the book, but that message really wasn’t great to my Anxiety/Depression/ADHD struggling ass trying to just stay steady enough to get into college.

Honestly, even to this day I HATE HATE HATE books with depressing messages like that. I already deal with the struggle of being afraid of failure, getting where I want to be, all that shit. I don’t want that in my literature. Give me a person who struggles but still succeeds and finds some sort of happiness and self-worth in the end. Give me someone overcoming their traumas in such a way that they can at least have a good quality of life afterwards, even if the trauma will never leave, so long as they’re happy. I’m tired of YA novels that try and sell our generation and gen z the message that life sucks. Give me more hope, more heroes, more people making a difference because hell life is short so best make the most of it making a difference.

To quote GotG, why do I care so much about stories that revolve around saving the world, even if that world is just as small as a found family?

And my existence might as well be a happy one and have HOPE GOD DAMMIT.

TL/DR: If a book leaves me feeling like shit after reading it because it ends on a super shitty note, I’m generally not going to enjoy that book. And the fact that most YA novels these days that are given to highschoolers fall into this category is hot garbage when this is around the time they’re trying to find some sort of direction in life.

*Note: I realize that there are times and places for books that give more somber messages. Hell, I’ve even enjoyed some books with messages of such a tone. But media these days, and honestly for most of my life starting in mid to late teenage years (and maybe earlier) has started taking a turn towards the more depressing/somber stuff, and its overwhelming and just bad. And even back then when first reading it this was something I picked up on and didn’t enjoy. It just was not the right time in my life to hear a message so devoid of giving a shit.

Problem 3: Holden is honestly, super fucking creepy.

Okay, we back on the train of the actual book’s writing. Holden the dipshit is honestly, really fucking creepy. Towards women specifically. I have no direct quotes from the book specifically, but I DISTINCTLY remember the way he talked about women (or even young children/girls) being creepy as shit. Like, he waxes lyrical about his kid sister and her classmates and how innocent they are and how he wants to be the “Catcher in the Rye” to keep them innocent and to keep them from realizing how bad the world is. Great, lovely sentiment Holden. Except that the way you’re going about it comes across as being a pedophile.  You’re at the very least sexist as fuck, because you’re objectifying the fuck out of people anyway.

That scene with the sex worker in the hotel room is also one I remember making me feel super uncomfortable. Not because the sex worker is there, but because uh, just, god, that whole scene gave me the creeps. Probably because I felt bad for the woman, coming into the room expecting to be paid for work and there’s just this kid who breaks the fuck down, tells her some depressing shit, and maybe pays her? (does he pay her? I can’t fucking remember, I’d like to think he does, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t, because he’s an ass.) Actually, bigger question IS HE EVEN OF AGE TO HAVE SEX WITH HER LEGALLY? HOW OLD IS THIS KID? HES STILL IN HIGH SCHOOL RIGHT?

…. so I looked it up, he’s 17. SEVENTEEN. HE IS A M I N O R. I’m like 99% sure that the woman he hires is like, twice his age at least. That’s straight up illegal.

god this just gets worse.

TL/DR: Holden is a 17 year old creep who comes off as a pedophile in the way he talks about kids, and also definitely hired a sex worker while he was underage. Idk if that was legal at the time this book was written, but if it was (and I doubt it), that has aged very poorly.

Problem 4: It’s got a lot of male fans who fall into that all too dangerous category of having Fight Club or Rick and Morty being their favorite bit of visual media.

Okay, again, not a problem of the book. But when the majority fanbase (or at least, the most vocal part) are a bunch of abusive men who don’t realize that the message they took away from a work of fiction is incredibly problematic? Or worse, know and don’t care because they think their take is superior? Uhhh, how do I say, big yikes.

Like, this could be your favorite book, whatever, that’s you, I don’t care, but if your reasoning for it is because Holden is, in your opinion, an unflawed idealized version of yourself/your ideals?

thats a nope from me bro.

———-

That’s all I can do off the top of my head without going in and reading the book again. Which I probably won’t do for a long time, because I don’t need to hear that struggling to make a place for yourself is dumb and proves you’re just “part of the machine, the man has made you his bitch.” while I’m still trying to y’know, get to where I want to go.

But there you go, four solid reasons why I really really do not like Catcher in the Rye.

[lucasburch]

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6 Year Old Cat Peeing Everywhere

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[written-stone]

Who killed Markiplier

(Chapter 1 part 3)

"Alright, hand me my finger printing kit there behind you, partner," Laith begrudging looked behind him for the kit, but it wasn't visible. He turned around to tell the detective he couldn't find it, but discovered that not only did the detective already had it, he was in his full gear, with yellow and black tape cutting off the area where the body lay, now with a sheet over it. "Thanks parenter!" The detective nodded. Laith just stared at the scene in front of him, in confusion. He knew for fact that the detective was not in full gear, nor was there police tape or a white sheet any where near them. Then again, maybe he was just loosing it. Shaking his head softly, Laith slipped under the tape and as the detective lifted up the sheet, Damien strode into the room.

"What the hell happened here?" He asked, clearing trying to process what he was looking at. 

"Mr. Mayor, I-I'm sorry. There's been a murder.” Another lightning strike as the butler delivered the tragic news.

"A murder?" Damien asked, confused. Lightning lit the room, clearly confusing him further. "Who?"

“It’s Mark.” The chef shrugged.

”I’m afraid he’s telling the truth. Mark’s been killed,” The Detective confirmed, looking up from his crouching position. Laith didn’t have to look to hear the sadness and confusion in Damien’s voice. 

”Why? Who would do this?”

”That’s exactly what me and my new partner here are here to find out.” The detective, gestured over to Laith, making him look up and lock eyes with Damien. Dark grey, anxiety filled eyes on sad, confused brown eyes. Laith gave him a small shaky smile.

”Um, excuse me. I feel like we should call the authorities for them to handle this matter.” Interjected the butler. Laith sighed as the detective shot to his feet, badge in toll, as he got ready to defend himself.

”Look, buddy. As far as you’re concerned, I am the authorities.” The detective sassed, while folding the pictures back into his badge holder. “The fact of the matter is, I believe the killer is right here amongst us in this very house. With that freaky lightning storm outside, none of us would get very far anyway. So, in the meantime, we’re stuck here. But I’m gonna get to the bottom of this. The rest of you, get back to your rooms, hunker down, and pray to God you’re not next to be murdered.” Lightning strike.

”I’ll… I’ll check on our guests.” He was clearly either intimidated by the detective, or shaken up by the murder. Laith was leaning more towards the murder. He found the detective as intimidating as someone threatening you with a pillow. The chef left as well, muttering something about all this death making him hungry. Laith turned back to Damien, Who looked like he was going to be sick.

”I… I-I need to talk to the Colonel about this.” And he too walked out.

“All right, partner. It’s time to get to work,” The detective grabbed Laith’s attention, away from Damien’s retreating form. “Judging by the temperature I measured rectally, which is obviously the most accurate way to get the inner body temperature of a corpse: that’s a fact, totally procedure. Don’t tell anyone I did it,” Laith gave him a look that was mixture of ‘wft’ and ‘don’t worry’. “I am sure Mark was killed around 1:30 am last night” Really? You got all that from his shit cave. “So,” He stood up pointing his finger in Laith’s face. Laith rolled his eyes. “What were you doing at 1:30 am last night?”

“I fell asleep, while supporting a bloody nose. No thanks to you,” Laith snapped, glaring at the detective. 

“Sorry about that,” The detective gave him a sheepish look, lowing his finger. “So, we need to figure out where everyone was and what they were doing around that time or, at the very least, who saw Mark last. You need to get out there. See if you can piece together the story of what happened last night. I’ll stick around with the body and run more… tests.” The detective sniffed his fingers, creeping Laith out. Nevertheless, Laith ducked under the yellow tape. 

He was unsure of where to start. He could find the butler, Benjamin as learned was his name, but he seemed shaken up enough as it is. The chef seemed like a viable suspect, but Laith was genuinely afraid he would kill him with his ladle if he tried to speak to him. Which only left the Colonel, and dare he say it, Damien. Laith wasn’t to sure about Damien being a suspect, since he once saved a baby bird from being eaten by a cat, and let a fly out a window, before Mark could kill it. The Colonel seemed like an alright guy, but Laith didn’t know him as much as Damien and Mark did, so he wanted to ask him some questions. Problem was, Laith hadn’t seen all day and he didn’t know he way around the manor as much as the Colonel did. “Where the hell could he be?” Suddenly, Laith heard muffled yelling coming from a nearby room and followed the noise. He found a small opening that lead to another room. He could clearly see an upset and annoyed Damien. He leaned closer, hoping to hear more. 

“How can you be so flippant?!” Damien cried. Laith could hear the muffled replies of the Colonel

”Flippant? I’m taking this matter very-!” 

“Oh, don’t give me that horseshit!” Damien snapped, cutting him off. “I know you hated him, but, god damn it, he reached out to you!” 

”Oh, what do you want from me?” The Colonel groaned. He seemed bored, or tired, by this whole ordeal.

”I WANT YOU TO CARE!”

”Just because I’m not weeping like a child doesn’t mean that I don’t care!” That seemed to hit Damien hard. Laith could almost see his stance as it changed from attacking, to defensive. 

”I can’t believe you,” He sounded so hurt. Laith couldn’t blame him, his friend was dead and his other friend didn’t care. “ You come and find me when you pull your head out of your ass!” Damien stormed out, giving Laith a glare as he shoved passed him, bumping shoulders. “Excuse me.” Laith felt almost like someone stabbed him the heart as Damien stalked down the hall, tears started to well up his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away. He had a job to do and no anxiety attack was going to stop him. Taking a deep breath, Laith pushed open the door and entered the room to find the Colonel slump in his chair.

”Damien, I don’t-!” The Colonel stopped himself when he saw it was Laith. “Oh! Ah, good to see you again! You were quite the rapscallion at last night’s festivities. But you’re probably here to help the detective with his “investigation of murder”, He said “investigation of murder” in a mocking tone, using quotation fingers and jumped when another lightning bolt rang through the sky. ”Anyway, I’ll help you; I’ll tell you what happened to our dear friend Mark.” 

The Colonel starts mocking Mark. ”Oh! Look at me! My name is Markiplier, now! Forget all my friends or the people who helped me along the way! Just look at my money! Oh, I need to pay people to be my friends! Ha-ha-ha! You like me? Too bad. Oh, glug-glug! Oopsie poopsie. I can’t hold my booze. Gotta go off to the little boys’ room. Who wants to join me?” Laith wasn’t sure if he was going to punch the Colonel or not yet. “I’m gonna go there upon my stairs. My house has more than one staircase. Oh, look at me and how great I am! Oh no, I’m falling. Aah, I’m dead.”” The Colonel finished with a dramatic hand motion. “And that’s what happened. Probably, anyway.” Laith hummed in response. It didn’t really help in any way, it showed how bitter the Colonel was to Mark for reason. The Colonel could probably see the gears turn in Laith head, sassily saying, “So, if you need to corroborate this story with anybody else just be on your way and investigate the entire house. Go now, I’ll be here when you’re done.” 

Laith headed for the door and came face to face with the butler. “Come with me, I need to show you something,” Laith walked along side the butler. “Now, if you’re looking for answers, there’s really no mystery at all. There’s not a single detail of this house that I’m not privy to, and not a single guest that I have not personally vetted,” Laith was slightly creeped out by that. “Now I warn you: what you are about to see is not for the faint of heart. A domain of evil this is. But in we must go,” They walked through the kitchen and stopped at a staircase that lead into what he assumed was a basement.The butler seemed nervous as he opened the gate, “You first,” Laith stared down the steps, muttering a small ‘nope’. Right, creepy ass basement and a creepy as butler... great 

Laith slowly headed down the steps and saw that it was only a wine seller. He walked further in, only for his foot to hit something. He looked down to see a broken glass on the floor. He took a step back as the butler ran passed him, dust pan and brush in hand. ”Avert your eyes!” He cried. “I’m so sorry you had to see this! Master would be so displeased! If only he were still alive!” The butler sobbed. Laith slowly backed away and headed upstairs, the butlers cries slowly faded.

@the-asexual-reaper @pleaseletthisjimbetaken @xdamienplier

[stilestilikeslydia]

A Totally Objective and Unemotional Recap of Teen Wolf Episode 6x12: Raw Talent

@wellsjahasghost hasn’t gotten a chance to watch the episode yet, so I told her I’d write her a recap, and....... yeah, this is about as far from objective as it gets.

friends, i really hated this episode, and this recap is almost entirely negative, so if you really liked the episode, you probably want to skip this post lol. if you're also bitter and want to enjoy 2.5k of someone else ranting, please read on!

The real title of this text post: 

Anya Discusses Plot Holes, #recycledplotlines, and Casual Racism in Episode 6x12

*ahem* 

The show begins. The0 R@eken, sleeping in his car because he is homeless and friendless and irredeemable, is awoken multiple times, in multiple locations and at multiple times of day, by police officers rapping on his window and telling him to get up and leave. It takes me three minutes to figure out that it's him for sure because he's grown out his hair a bit to look more Boyish, Unkempt, and Vulnerable and I can no longer tell white boys on Teen Wolf apart. By the time I've reached 95% certainty that it is, in fact, the white boy who literally killed Scott and is still stanned by tw fans everywhere, he's waking up in the middle of the night to a spider crawling on his hand. He watches it, fascinated and unafraid, probably because he's like "yo this thing looks as evil as I am lolol." Then the spider burrows under his skin.

Cue The0 breaking into Deaton's vet office to stab the spider crawling around in his back with a scalpel and pull it out of him. Cue me gagging. Then the spider disappears in a puff of black smoke/gunpowder dust bc like... why not.

The police montage continues. And continues. I'm bored. Then - gasp! - the next police are nOt In fAcT CoPs bUt mEN wItH gUnS wHo wAnT To kiLL thE0. They shoot into his car repeatedly, and the scene ends.

(This would be a good cliffhanger if tw trailers didn't already show him appearing in future episodes smh.)

I refuse to watch the episode again, so I'm just going to say that I'm pretty sure the mcmartate scene is next. I'm not going to recap it fully because it was actually pretty good and this recap is not about Accuracy, it's about Salt. In short, the Scott laser scene happens but it turns out that the lasers were actually police flashlight beams (why were they in the woods?!?! who the heck knows. oh wait p@rrish exists, i forgot. maybe he told them about getting beat up by a hellhound wearing matching boxer briefs) and he was hallucinating. he's panicked enough to wolf out before he realizes it's a hallucination and the entire police department sees his eyes glowing red. great great great my son is hallucinating yET AGAIN, i really needed him to suffer more. also he pockets the Argent bullet shell case and mcmartate decides to talk to Chris Argent before they involve Papa Stilinski.

Mcmartate is a Good group. "Maybe this episode won't be so bad," I think.

*sighs*

idk what order the next scenes happen in, so i'm just going to tackle each subplot separately lol.

2.0:

Mason and Liam are chatting in the boys' locker room before lacrosse practice about the supernatural evil threatening Beacon Hills, surrounded by tons of freshmen who could easily overhear them. Liam's giving an extra practice to the freshmen so they have a chance of making first line, even though Mason thinks this is foolish. Liam explains that Brett is helping him, which makes no sense, but I don't mind because this sequence happens:

M: Brett? Incredibly... HOT Brett, with the 8-pack abs?

L (sounding mildly disgruntled... iS SOMEONE JEALOUS R U SURE UR STRAIGHT KIDDO): Pretty sure it's just Brett.

M: He has an 8-PACK. Do y- do you know how hard it is for the human body to have an 8-pack??? *music swells dramatically and then cuts off* ...God.

Also, at the end, Liam tosses Mason over his shoulder and carries him out of the locker room because he was accidentally discouraging the freshmen.

This is the best scene in the episode.

Next, both Liam and Corey failing to do a decent job at playing lacrosse. This is ostensibly an extra practice for the freshmen, and yet Brett, Liam, and Corey are the only ones playing. Brett outclasses them both in looks, swagger, and skill. Liam has no control as usual and Brett tells him to get it together. Audience reaction: Writers are recycling Liam's s4 plotline bc they ran out of ideas for his character; Brett is so clearly superior to Corey that we don't understand why Mason and Corey didn't break up during the hiatus so Brason could happen. Also, guidance counselor watches Brett score on Corey and hears Corey reply, "Wait, I'm not actually invisible right now, am I?" Nice subtlety, Corey.

Liam is pissed bc #recycledplotlines and punches out a locker. Somehow stays there all day because by the time Mason and Corey go to find him, it's after dark??? And since it's summer, it must be like 9:30??? "We need to study for a history test" hOW IS THE SCHOOL STILL OPEN THIS LATE i will never understand.

Oh yeah I forgot, while Liam was still working through his anger issues on the lacrosse field, a bunch of spiders crawl into a freshman boy's helmet in the locker room, and when he puts it on, they invade his body and then start crawling out of his mouth. So when Mason and Corey go to find Liam, they notice a smeared blood trail on the locker room floor and follow it to the showers, where there is an..... unidentifiable bloody mass on the floor. I am disturbed.

Brett:

After obliterating Liam and Corey, it is somehow magically nighttime and he's heading towards his car when the guidance counselor shows up, holding a lacrosse ball that rolled off the field. She compliments his abnormal skill level and tosses him the ball.... which turns out to be covered in wolfsbane. She claims it's "nothing personal,” but no one deserves that much power, and then tries to kill him. I think she stabs him??? I forget the details of their fight. Anyway, he manages to escape.

Scott and Malia:

They go looking for Chris at his... house? bunker? who knows. He has crates full of guns, surprising no one. They have #wittybanter and #chemistry, surprising no one. (i’m sorry i’m sorry i just feel like sc@lia is forced i’m sorry) Scott tells Malia it's okay to break into Chris's computer to find his calendar, and she is turned on by his rule-bending. All of the passwords she guesses involve her capitalizing the first word and adding spaces, because that's how passwords work. Scott picks up a bow and has a Revelation, immediately going to Chris's computer to type in ALLISON as the password. It's the second #recycledplotine of the night. Not to mention that as much as Chris loves his daughter, he is much too practical to have such an easily hackable password.

Questionable computer security aside, they show up in the middle of one of Chris's gun deals right after his fake military buyers pull out their guns, realizing that Chris knows they're fake military and is trying to find out who their boss is. Chris is annoyed with them for intervening and claims that he had an inside man that they just took out while trying to help him, which is yet another plot hole bc Chris shouldn't need to ask about bosses if he has an inside man. In the following chaos-ridden action scene, Scott drops the Argent shell casing. Chris says it's okay and they'll just find the actual bullet in the woods.

Best line of the episode: After Scott and Malia ask if the shell casing belongs to him, Chris says, "I haven't stamped a bullet since Allison died." Our hearts all break a little.

Anyway, despite their plans to go to the woods TOGETHER, Chris is mysteriously nowhere in sight so Scott and Malia can have ~time alone~. Malia shows concern for Scott's well-being. They smile at each other, and thanks to compulsive heterosexuality, this clearly means they've just caught feelings. I'm definitely not still bitter that the writers didn't bring back Kira and give Malia a girlfriend instead.

(in all honesty, however, i can admit that this scene was objectively cute, and it was great character development that already happened in s5 but again #recycledplotlines to see Malia actively caring about other people. I’m really happy for sc@lia shippers because I know you were all really excited about that scene.)

Chris comes back. They find a bullet in a tree thanks to its infared heat signature or smthg (idk i'm spaced out at this point). It's a silver bullet, meaning that the guidance counselor is just a wannabe Hunter, not the Genuine Article.

Lydia and Toast:

At the sheriff's station, Lydia??? hears some noise in her premonitions and decides to tell Toast and not her bf's dad for??? some completely valid reason i'm sure??? tbh i have no idea what the premise of this scene is, but Lydia realizes that the noise she keeps hearing is the key card reader from Eichen House. Apparently that means something bad is happening there so she tells Toast that they need to go check it out. Toast tells her that there's no way he's "letting her" go back there - because clearly he owns her and she can't make decisions for herself - and decides to go alone instead, because once again, that clearly makes so much more sense than telling the Sheriff. The whole scene is written to make it sound like Toast is the only one who cares about Lydia's well-being - because it's definitely not like she has a pack full of friends who care about her and a boyfriend who would do anything for her - and therefore is in charge of protecting her in a creepily possessive way. Aka, tw writers are still pandering to M@rrish fans even after Stydia is canon, and I don't know why I'm surprised.

So Toast goes to Eichen, meets Creepy Doctor who accidentally released Other Hellhound last week, and tells him to let him into the closed ward after hearing a woman begging for help. Doctor refuses. Toast shows him his glowing eyes as an... intimidation tactic??? Doctor complies but locks the door behind Toast after he enters.

Toast finds the woman in a communal-shower-type room (which???? okay), lying on the floor with an open electric cable sparking her body every few seconds, surrounded by a bunch of other apparently dead supernatural creatures. When Doctor arrives and Toast tells him to help, plot twist! Doctor is the one who put them there. (Oh, look, electricity........ I wonder who would be helpful....... in this........ situation........)

Doctor gets Toast locked up in room where Other Hellhound used to reside and turns down the temperature, telling Toast that he'll freeze him from the inside out or smthg.

Meanwhile, Lydia's just been hanging out at the sheriff station and waiting for Toast instead of registering for MIT because according to a reminder on her phone, this is the ~last day~ for her to do so and Lydia "IQ of 170" Martin OBVIOUSLY would have put off registration until the last minute. OF COURSE. She ignores the notification bc apparently college isn't important and steals one of the deputies' walkie talkies after she hears strange noises emitting from it. Her absurd attempts to sneak casually would have made Stiles Stilinski proud af.

However, her next move would NOT have made Stiles Stilinski proud af, as she hears the Doctor threatening Toast and immediately decides to go after him alone instead of

1) calling Scott so that Scott and Malia can come with her or

2) taking the Sheriff, seeing as he is her BOYFRIEND'S DAD and also CONVENIENTLY LOCATED IN THE SAME BUILDING AS HER AT THAT MOMENT.

So. Naturally. She goes to Eichen alone, and every sound she hears, every sight she sees, is immensely triggering. For the first time, Teen Wolf actually somewhat addresses the fact that Lydia has PTSD after everything she's been through. This is a good thing. I would be happy with this development if, again, Lydia wasn't alone throughout the entire experience. Clearly, Teen Wolf writers have decided that Strong Female Characters must always face their fears alone if they want to remain Strong Female Characters. Clearly, having her friends there to ground her would have taken away from her character development. Clearly, it wouldn't have been amazing to see Lydia accept her friends' help when s1 Lydia Martin never would have shown weakness around others. Clearly, having a support network when you've faced immense trauma isn't important at all. CLEARLY.

(Clearly I didn't have to pause my TV at this point because I was so horrified and angry that the TW writers placed her in a situation where she was surrounded by a myriad of triggers, on the verge of a panic attack, and completely alone.)

Anyway, Lydia reaches a turning point where she is somehow able to push aside all of those horrible memories and find Toast, who's been slowly freezing to death while watching Doctor hold a gun with shaking hands. Doctor's been explaining that he hates guns and has always been opposed to violence, but his fear of supernatural creatures has led him to believe that eradicating them all is the only way to ensure normal humans' safety.

Lydia runs into the cell just as Doctor raises the gun to shoot Toast in the head. She screams, knocking Doctor back and killing him. GREAT. LET'S ADD ANOTHER TRAUMATIC EICHEN MEMORY TO THE PILE. LYDIA DEFINITELY NEEDED TO KILL SOMEONE ELSE. THAT WOULDN'T BE EMOTIONALLY SCARRING AT ALL. OF COURSE STILES IS ENTITLED TO AN ENTIRE SEASON OF ANGST AFTER KILLING DONOVAN IN SELF-DEFENSE, BUT LYDIA KILLING MULTIPLE PEOPLE WOULDN'T HAVE ANY EMOTIONAL RAMIFICATIONS. OF COURSE.

End scenes:

2.0: Suddenly realizing that freshman boy (I think his name is Aaron) is missing, they go running around the school looking for him and eventually find him in a classroom, magically unharmed. "What are you doing here?" they ask. "Just remembered we have a history test," he replies. I thought this boy was a freshman. smh.

McMarTate: Clearly not scarred from her experiences at all, Lydia rejoins Malia and Scott to discuss their discoveries. Cue "what is everyone afraid of?"/"us" scene combined with a montage of everyone looking away from Liam in slow motion at school the next day, apparently afraid of him. Which is definitely because they magically know he's a werewolf, and not because they don't want to catch the disease that gave him his awful haircut.

Brett: Brett pounces on the guidance counselor, who's looking for him in the woods, and they start fighting. It looks like he's going to win, but then he gets shot in the chest with an arrow and runs off.

The arrow was shot by Gerard.

He tells wannabe hunter/guidance counselor that she has potential.

Huzzah, what a great episode.

Bonus casual racism: Now that Kira's gone, wannabe hunter/guidance counselor (who still doesn't have a name...... oh hey, look, mORE CASUAL RACISM) is the only woman of color on the show... and she's a Black antagonist. This is clearly Not Problematic At All.

Of course, thanks to theories that will be discussed in this week's episode of stydiacast, it's possible that this casting decision is entirely legitimate.

HOWEVER, one other poc was introduced in this episode...... and Aaron, poor young freshman lacrosse player, is now possibly being possessed by spiders and will likely also be a Black antagonist, albeit one with no control over his actions.

Oh, hey, doesn't..... that...... sound..... familiar? It's.... almost like..... another problematic #recycledplotline. *looks at s5 Mason Hewitt*

Thanks, Teen Wolf.

[winterheart17]

Hi Ms. Li! do you have any advice for someone who wants to leave their job but is having cold feet? I just can't take the environment here in at workplace anymore, the negativity, the unnecessary politics among colleagues, the lack of room for growth, all in all dealing with the environment is way harder than the job itself, it's ridiculous, but then again this is my first ever job after my graduation so I can't help but be a little bit scared, I question myself if I should just bear through it.

Hey sweetling,

I have a feelingyou know what I’m going to say – leave. Leave when things no longer serve tomake you grow and only bring you down – whether it’s a job, friendship, orromantic relationship. Leave.

I know. I know it’shard especially since it’s sort of become your safety net; your comfort zone,if you will. But comfort doesn’t always mean it’s the best choice – it justmeans you need to let go of certain preconceived notions and explore what lifehas to offer, especially since it sounds as if you’ve graduated not too longago (do correct me if I’m wrong!).

I’ll tell you alittle bit about my personal experience (not sure if you caught/remember thisepisode). My first job was at this very same company I currently work at (let’scall it company A) – I loved the environment and I started making pretty decentfriends, but the pay just wasn’t cutting it. So, after a year, I left whenanother company ‘poached’ me – let’s call it company B. During the jobinterview, I had the iffiest feeling from them – but because I was desperatefor a pay raise, I ignored my gut and went ahead with the deal anyways.

It. Was. The.Worst. Decision. Of. My. Life.

Not only did theylie to me about my job scope – I was hired as a writer and promised I wouldwork on substantial articles, but they wanted was someone to do admin work –churning out invoices and cheques to freelancers they hired to do the job I wastold I’d do. Not only that, the editor was a complete two-faced backstabbing crustedtit who seemed to be completely caring and maternal on the outside, but sheseemed to take joy in making everyone’s lives miserable. People pretty muchcame and went because of her – in the two years she was editor, 9 people hadresigned. And that’s saying a lot because the editorial team there (inclusiveof herself) was a small group of 6.

I lasted about amonth there. But it was living hell – lie after lie came out and when it wasclear I had wised up to her tactics, she decided to badmouth me to her boss (whohonestly, had taken a bit of a shine to me because she liked my work). It’s asmall office – word gets around – especially when the entire office hates thisone person. I was desperate to leave – sort of like where you are right now.But where would I go? What would I do? Do I stay because the pay is better? Isit worth it waking up every day feeling as if a huge rock has weighed down onmy chest?

I decided to getin touch with my previous editor-in-chief whom was very fond of me and knew the calibre of work I could produce. I wasvery lucky that when I told her Imissed the old company, she practically recorded herself screaming out, “COMEBACK!” The next two weeks would be an agonising wait of hearing back from companyA – they operated on a pretty strict policy of no re-hiring an individual whohas just resigned within the year. Thank goodness my EIC fought tooth and nailfor me – but right after, I had to wait again for the offer letter to be ready.There was this little insecure voice inside my head telling me that they couldrenege on the deal without black and white.

But just the daybefore the offer letter came, my mum told me to just type out my resignationletter to hand it in to company B because I was honestly, so miserable. Everyday I would bitch and whine to my boyfriend and mum – sometimes, I’d get soangry, I’d be reduced to tears. I’d walk into the office every day wanting topunch a hole in the computer. That was when it really hit me how much I hadchanged – I had turned bitter, filled with rage all the time. And all thishappened within a month plus – what would become of me if I were to stay on? So,I did just that.

Typed my letter,handed it in even before knowing for sure I’d sign company A’s offer letter –both the editor and her boss tried talking to me to get me to stay – but I washaving none of that. I held my tongue because I was advised not to burn thisbridge. I had to serve a month’s notice and in that period of time – that editorcontinued complaining about me, even going so far as to lie to her boss aboutme not doing my work. So, on my very last day, I typed out an email as sort ofa farewell note (included some subtle daggers and digs at how I was lied to)and listed down all the work I had done, which that editor said I had beenslacking on (with proof attached in the email). Right before I walked throughthose doors for the very last time, I hit send to everyone on the team. Adios, putos!

Whew, sorry forthat bit of a ramble above – the reason why I told you this story is because Iwanted you to know that I took a risk when I left my company and it was one,which unfortunately, did not play out well. But I was at fault too – I was sodesperate for a higher pay, I jumped at the very first offer that came my wayeven though that inner voice screamed and screamed that something was off. WhatI’m trying to tell you is that there is always going to be a risk when youleave a job.

What you can do however, is vet throughopportunities as thoroughly as you can. Don’t just settle on one company eventhough it may look good from the outside. Ask questions during interviews – youare just as much sussing them out as they are sussing you out. Ask about theirworking culture, pay attention to the environment and if the people there aresolemn, and listen to your gut. Heck,people even post reviews on certain companies on sites these days!

The bottom line isthat you won’t know until you leave.You won’t know if your next job is going to stink, or if it’s going to beabsolutely amazing. The only thing you can do is make sure you minimise as muchas you can the risks of picking the former by paying attention to what I’d justmentioned above.

Think about itthis way: if the next job you leave for turns out to be not as great – how isit going to differ from the environment you are in now? It may not bewonderful, but how are you any worse off than the place you’re stuck at rightnow? The only real reason you’re keeping at it is because you need the income. Butoh, what if your jump turns out to be amazing? What if it turns out to be a jobyou’d happily go to with a smile on your face every day?

And I’m not evensaying that you should go right now. Takethe time to look for opportunities elsewhere first – not just up and leavewithout a backup plan. But if you really must, you need to check your financesand make sure you’ll have enough to survive for a minimum of six months. I won’t lie, the job economy right now inMalaysia is absolutely horrendous (I’m not too sure about the scene from whereyou’re from). It may take awhile to even hear back from most companies youapply to. Be patient. Also, I’m not sure how long you’ve worked at your currentplace, but if it’s only for a short while, you’ll also have to come up with astrategic answer when your potential employer asks why you’re planning onleaving this current post (just so it doesn’t seem like you’re a job hopper).

But try. If you’reabsolutely miserable, this isn’t the life you’re going to want to live another yearor so. Our work takes up 5 days a week (minimum) and about 8-9 hours a day – isthis how you’d really want to spend the majority of your life? Don’t boxyourself in; punch down those invisible walls your comfort zone has erected. Ialso told you my story because I wanted you to see that I wasn’t stuck. Yes, itwas a shitty decision – but I managed to come out of it just fine. Embrace thementality that sometimes, things aren’t going to work out, and that’s okay!Just dust yourself off and look for a window when a door has closed.

You can do it, sweetie. I believe in you. Fearof the uncertainty doesn’t mean you’ll be stuck this way forever – it justmeans that there are bigger, better, beautiful things out there that could beyours.

You just have to be brave enoughto go out there and reach.

[quickchangeartist]

92 Questions Tag

Tagged by: @shadowbanish (thank you! <3)

Answer the questions and tag 20 people.

Shit, uhhhhhh... I dunno about 20. That seems like a whole hell of a lot. @ammonia-jane, @manticorefruit, @pink-reindeer, @ghartokpadhome, @ashadahlen, @ashtraska, @onepartpartyonepartmachine, @happilynerevarafter, @relvinmeru, @julei-zu, @aforgottenchampion, @jerallmountains, @sonofqueen, @hardbittenhearts, @aramis-stilt0n, @snowelves, @automatomicatomaton, @dunmeritude, @sithisit, @chameleonspell HEY WE DID IT (Disregard if you want, tho, cos this is a lot of questions and all)

THE LAST: 1. Drink: Tea, with a lot of sugar and milk. 2. Phone call: @ammonia-jane, actually, because I’d missed the bus and made myself late.  3. Text message: “A miserable pile of secrets.”  4. Song you listened to: “Maker Of My Sorrow” by Eliza Rickman 5. Time you cried: Probably yesterday morning, or the night before.

HAVE YOU: 6. Dated someone twice: Like, gone on two dates or dated them, broke up, then dated them again? Either way, yes. 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: Oh man, yeah. Many people I’ve kissed have not been good at it, regardless. 8. Been cheated on: Yeeeeeaahh actually that sort of happens a lot? I often wonder about that, and whether that’s why I just plain don’t much mind being fucked around on, maybe I just see it as a natural consequence. Or maybe I’m just poly and I shouldn’t overanalyse the whys so much. 9. Lost someone special: Yeah. 10. Been depressed: Bruh. Come on, now. 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: Lol. Yeah. LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 12. Red 13. Black 14. That sort of deep reddish purple that you only get on certain kinds of plum at very precise times of the year. IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. Made new friends: Yeah! I’m really bad at keeping them, though. 16. Fallen out of love: Nope! 17. Laughed until you cried: Yes 18. Found out someone was talking about you: Nah. Either they cover shit up properly, or I’m just not that interesting to talk about. Also, I’m pretty obtuse to be fair. 19. Met someone who changed you: Not in the last year, but they’re still around?20. Found out who your friends are: I wasn’t in doubt? Damn, some of you must have much more drama-filled lives than I do. 21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: Idk? Probably. I think I gave @manticorefruit a smooch on their hat the other week. I kissed Voltaire after a concert a month or two back.

GENERAL: 22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: I don’t really know? Probably not more than half, though. 24. Do you want to change your name: I planned to change to my current name, Daniel, for the duration of transitioning, then change to Casimir once my surgery was done with. Then a friend of mine turns up with a Friendship Tattoo with ‘Daniel’ right there on his forearm and I’m just like. Welp.  25. What did you do for your last Birthday: I hung out at my mate’s place and drank gin and ate a delicious earl grey-flavored cake with “Happy fuckin’ Birthday aye” written on it in purple icing. That cake lasted for two weeks, it was enormous. 26. What time did you wake up: It should be 7am, lately it’s between 10am and 1pm because life is a series of mistakes. 27. What were you doing at midnight last night: Probably something unspeakable. 28. Name something you can’t wait for: For @ammonia-jane to go to Texas so she can come back. 29. When was the last time you saw your mom: She’s literally right here. My cat is sitting on her and she’s reading my old report cards from school 20 years ago. 30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: Oh my fucking gods, where to fucking begin... How about I go back to being 17 and happy and not yet so crushingly mentally ill. That or give me $100,000. 31. What are you listening right now: My cat purring, also “The Wayward Wife” by The Merry Wives Of Windsor. 32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: ...Shit, I don’t know. Maybe I haven’t?? 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: My real estate agent hasn’t returned my emails OR my calls in going on a month now, despite sticking a demolition application notice on my damn lawn in the dark of night. Shitweasels. 34. Most visited Website: If not Tumblr, then probably UESP. LOST QUESTIONS 35. Mole/s: I think there’s one on the back of my neck maybe, and there’s one on the underside of one forearm. 36. Mark/s: Like... A bunch. Scar across my shoulder, scars all over my fingers and hands, big scar on my left thigh, nick on one wrist and between two knuckles on one hand I’ve had as long as I can remember, big flat scar on the sole of one foot, freckles on my shoulders (the ones on my face and forearms faded a lot when I became a Basement Goblin but the ones on my shoulders were from a SEVERE sunburn so I figure they’re there to stay), my stretchmarks are invisible now but holy fuck am I still super self-conscious about them, etc etc etc. 37. Childhood dream: I wanted to be a vet surgeon so much. 38. Haircolour: Right now? Henna-dyed red, it’s sort of brick-red now. 39. Long or short hair: I have a mohawk that’s long enough to reach the small of my back. So... Both? 40. Do you have a crush on someone: Sure <3 41. What do you like about yourself: My hands are pretty and I can do lots of things with them, like blacksmithing and carpentry and rude gestures. 43. Bloodtype: I THINK it’s O-? I can’t remember right now. It’s on some paperwork somewhere around here. 44. Nickname: Dan No, Dan Pls, Dan Would You Just Stop 45. Relationship status: I think they’re both going pretty well? 46. Zodiac: Aries  47. Pronouns: Neither He/Him/His or They/Them/Theirs feels ‘right’ but because English is a woeful pain in the ass, I’ll accept either of those. 48. Favourite TV Show: Right now it’s American Gods. 49. Tattoos: SOON. Once I get a new spot to live sorted out, I got some promises to keep. 50. Right or left hand: Right. 51. Surgery: Broken wrist, had a chunk carved out of my foot, had my thigh cauterised shut because I kept tearing the stitches and I decided I didn’t care. Had some bits and pieces extracted. Had broken tooth bits fished out of my jaw. At some point in the future there’ll be major chest surgery. 52. Hair dyed in different colour: SO MANY. I had to cool it with that once I started getting scared of my hair falling out. I used to be Billy Idol peroxide-white, though, I think that was the worst for it. 53. Sport: I don’t sport? I like watching Swordcraft battles. I think that’s a sport. 55. Vacation: The Murray River, up around Sunraysia, about 12km downriver from Loch 11. Not that I’ve thought about it at all. 56. Pair of trainers: I don’t know if I have any, actually. I wear my boots to death, though, they need resoling now I’ve ground the heels hollow again. MORE GENERAL:

57. Eating: Right now? Kabana and some baked beans. Whatever I could find in the kitchen. 58. Drinking: Cheap coke. 59. I’m about to: Write something, I hope, if my brain stays still. 61. Waiting for: Word back about the last rental lease we applied for. 62. Want: Not gonna lie, I would pay $50 for someone to come lie in bed with me and tell me it’s gonna be okay while we spoon and watch American Gods. 63. Get married: Afraid I can’t. Australia’s fun like that. 64. Career: *distant, bitter laughter* WHICH IS BETTER 65. Hugs or kisses: Depends on the person. It’s hard to screw up a hug, though. 66. Lips or eyes: Eyes 67. Shorter or taller: Depends on what I intend to do with them 68. Older or younger: Older 70. Nice arms or nice stomach: Arms, I have such a weird envy thing for good shoulders. 71. Sensitive or loud: Sensitive, because holy shit I am all nervous all the time and loud is bad for me 72. Hook up or relationship: Hmmm. I mean, both have their pros and cons. 73. Troublemaker or hesitant: I am naturally really cautious, so hesitant, I guess. HAVE YOU EVER:

74. Kissed a stranger: Yep 75. Drank hard liquor: Yessir. I got a bottle of gin beside my chair at all times, lately. Beautiful Tanqueray. 76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: I don’t have either, though I probABLY REALLY SHOULD 77. Turned someone down: Yeah, it was so awkward. Poor thing, really. 78. Sex in the first date: Why wouldn’t I? 79. Broken someone’s heart: Ayyeh... Yeah, pretty often. I’m kind of garbage. 80. Had your heart broken: Yes. 81. Been arrested: No! A low bar, I know, but something I’m proud of. 82. Cried when someone died: Still doing it, now and then. 83. Fallen for a friend: Yes. DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 84. Yourself: Hah. I believe that other people believe in me and I don’t want to disappoint them, how’s that? 85. Miracles: In a way. I don’t think of them as miracles, though. 86. Love at first sight: Not the kind of love that ought to last. 87. Santa Claus: Nah 88. Kiss on the first date: Hell yeah smooches. 89. Angels: How christian-specific of you. OTHER: 90. Current best friends name: I always hated the idea that asking that question was normal and acceptable. Just makes other friends feel inadequate. 91. Eyecolour: Blue-grey, there’s a bit of brownish-gold around the middle I got from my mother. 92. Favourite movie: The Man Who Fell To Earth. It makes me cry a lot. Or Showgirls, because I cannot watch it without laughing, it’s a trainwreck that never stops giving.