#why did i make that stew so good looking now i gotta make one myself

[kindlykolorful]

#AskPiratesAU

Captains, did you get any backlash from crewmates about your relationship?

Were any (Dead)past crewmates homophobic and vocal about it?

Yeah... some people didn't agree with me suddenly coming to the ship and becoming captain. There was a little group that wanted to question it, I don't think they were specifically worried about we being a couple but more of me becoming a captain, but they sure said some offensive stuff behind our backs!

Well, they made a very good stew for Cellbit! I prepared it with a lot of love despite it all.

[theink-stainedfolk]

The Tale of The King & His Knight Ch3

The King was not the same,

He approached his Knight as if he were his friend. 

Known is the King for being ruthless,

For all his Knights were slain mercilessly. 

I didn't want to wake up. I drank the poison for the purpose of not waking up.  But I really didn't want to wake up in the Knight's Quarters, and in my Knight's body. I was rethinking my life decisions when suddenly someone just… banged open the door.

"WAKE UP LAZY ASS. YOU'VE GOT AN ASS TO PROTECT. " a very lean man standing in front of my bed, spoke as bread crumbs fell off his mouth. I cringed. Has he no knowledge of etiquette? 

"Stop making a ruckus…Feblone." I sighed, getting up. Thank God I remembered his name. 

"Oh. You've got a surprisingly good memory." He said. I almost forgot his name. "Come on, let's go for a good hot bath!" He said, slapping my back. I almost cussed out loud due to the pain being so sharp. How could Famien withstand this?

I really regret drinking that potion. I shouldn't have gone to the old man. 

In front of me was a large hot bath… filled with men. Naked. I'm used to taking a bath alone, in my large warm tub, scented soap, shampoo and lots of lather. Now I didn't know where to look.

"Are you shy, Big boy?!" Pervez, another Knight smacked my back again as he saw how reluctant I was to strip. "Last time you jumped in as if you didn't care about anyone watching you!" Damn Famien! The least you could do was have a sense of shame! 

"Regrettably, I have recently been experiencing a touch of coldness. I trust my indisposition shall not inconvenience you; should it discompose you, I shall refrain from bathing this day.” I rambled, trying to escape from their clutches.

"What's up with you? " Wearing nothing but a towel around his bottom, Feblone chuckled. "You speak like a monarch."

Well I am a monarch. I laughed nervously, lest my cover get blown. "No, it's not like that…I mean… his highness asked me to-" I was explaining myself before I was interrupted by Feblone's loud laughter.

"Doesn't matter!" He said. "Now jump in before I push ya'!" I immediately removed my clothes and went inside the tub. It was much better than being pushed. I can't witness myself get embarrassed, it doesn't matter if it is not my body that is being laughed at.

"Ohohoho! Of course our King chose the best looking men out of all of us!" Roared Pervez.

Out of nowhere, a competition started; comparing who has the best body out of the few men left in the tub. I wanted to leave but I got caught up in their competition. I didn't intervene in their talks. But suddenly Feblone started complimenting Famien's (now mine) body. Of course, he is extremely well built as he should be. Being the King's Knight requires basic strength. But I didn't know that he is indeed, extremely well built. I thought he was just bluffing when I caught him admiring himself.

"Today, you gotta eat a lot! More than before, 'cuz you have to be tailing that ass!" Feblone laughed. 

I knew that the Knights feared guarding me, but before that I knew that they hated me. Because, unlike my father, I was useless. And I was the only royal that survived the assassination that killed my family. I left my family behind. I left my kind hearted family to save myself. And my family left me in this God forsaken world.

"For real," I said. "Tolerating him requires inhumane strength. That good for nothing monarch of ours." Feblone stopped laughing and looked at me curiously. "What's wrong?"

"You never called him 'good for nothing'. What changed your mind?" He said and I went speechless for a while. Why didn't he refer to me what the whole empire did? What did he think about me? 

Pervez and one more guy that I unfortunately didn't remember brought four plates each filled with Roast venison with a side of wild berries, beef stew with root vegetables, Roast quail with honey glaze, Spiced lamb shank with couscous and for dessert, Pheasant pie with a flaky crust. They then placed the plates in front of me.

"What?-" I began asking but Pervez spoke before. 

"Pal, I know that you usually eat 3 plates," my eyes widened with shock. "But today you gotta eat one extra! Protecting the king, tailing around him for the entire day, and night, we don't know if he'll stop to feed you since he barely stops to fill his stomach too. So eat up and come back alive, I mean it." 

I know that he means well. I also know that I need food to increase my strength, but I Don't think that I'll finish eating before I collapse. I laughed nervously and  I prayed in the name of God and started eating.

I managed to finish 4 plates with the help of Famien's friends.  By the time I took my last bite, the whole cafeteria was chanting 'you can do it Famien!'.

I trudged towards the palace ground where Farnak must've bought him by now. I saw him looking at a flower very closely. Minister Farnak seemed to be taking his leave but he paid him no heed.

"Good Morning….. Your Highness. " I bowed. But just as I said it, Famien (now in my body) whipped his head so hard towards me I almost heard it crack, and also bowed out of reflex. 

In the garden there was not only me and him, but multiple gardeners and knights guarding from distance. My eyes almost bulged out of my socket. I saw Famien sweating profusely. Before he could say any nonsense, I exclaimed. “I apologize to Your Highness and thank you for teaching me the correct way to pay my respects to you, I shall reflect on my behavior and never give you the chance to correct my mistakes ever again.” I spoke quickly so the situation gets clear. The workers, who were confused and shocked, then nodded in agreement and went back to their work.

He looked at me as he got the signal and stood up straight, and cleared his throat. “Very well, I… shall.. overlook? Yes, overlook your mistake since it is your first day. However, I won't be very…. Lineint? The next time.” I bowed once again. As expected, speaking posh words seemed hard for him. I need to give him etiquette classes as soon as possible before he taintes my image further.

“Do you mind joining me for a walk?” He asked as elegantly as possible. I bowed and followed behind him.

“Getting used to your way of life is harder than I thought.” He spoke first as soon as he saw the coast was clear. “Says you.” I scoffed. “I felt like I could burst out by eating 3 plates of heavy food. Do you eat like this on a daily basis?” I asked him genuinely. I feel the need to puke as soon as I eat more than ten bites.

“Yeah, and for your sake, I only ate one plate today. So now you have to do me a favor and sneak me in the kitchen so I can eat more because I am still hungry.” He said. “Why do you only eat porridge in the morning? Are you sick?”

More than sick, I believe, I just wanted to die. The guilt of eating and living better than my family who were left to perish ate me alive every day and night. The look of my servants, who once used to serve my family, gave me when I ate good food made me puke. They must have been thinking that I too should have died, that I shouldn't have been eating deliciously and sleeping peacefully when I left everyone to die.

“Earth to, dear Emperor.” Famien waved his hand in front of my face, pulling me out of my distant thoughts. Startled, I refocused, clearing my mind. "Apologies, I drifted off. What is it?” I asked.

“I asked if you were sick.” He was walking backwards, facing me. “And if you were, I suggest you eat more lean proteins such as grilled fish or roasted chicken for muscle strength, Whole grains like brown rice or quinoa for sustained energy, Dairy products like yogurt or cheese for calcium and probiotics, Green tea for antioxidants and hydration, I hate green tea by the way and my favorite,” he spoke and his eyes sparkled. “Dark chocolate for antioxidants and a touch of indulgence.” He smiled and looked up at the clear sky. “It is such a beautiful day today–” as he said this he almost stumbled and fell on his bottom. Thankfully, I was there to catch him. I caught his hand and pulled him towards me. I don't know if it was his strength in my body or me in his sturdy body, but due to someone's strength he fell on top of me and I almost fractured my hip. I hissed loudly but I felt no pain in my head, thankfully.

“Are you okay Your Highness?!!?” Famien exclaimed, his hand pressed beneath my head, protecting it from the disaster that might have occurred if not for his quick thinking. All the servants and soldiers were shocked and ran to us. “Shut up you dimwit!” I whispered. 

The knights pulled him up and helped him dust his robes. My bottom hurt more than I expected it to. “Come up.” I saw Famien reaching out his hand to me. I looked around. The servants were shocked. Never have they seen me doing this to anyone. I should tell him not to do this next time. 

I grabbed his hand and he pulled me up with little to no difficulty. “Are you okay your- er.. Famien?” He is doing everything I never did. I sighed. “Yes, Your Highness, I'm perfectly fine, I should be the one worried about you. Had you fallen, who knows what might have happened. I'm glad you are okay.” I said and bowed. How many times have I bowed today?

Famien looked around and with a very stern face, said to everyone. “You all may go now. As you can see, everyone is fine. Thank you for your concern." Everyone bowed and resumed their work. He looked at me with concern in his eyes. I never knew I could make a face like that until I saw myself. I guess he has a knack of making many expressions. “I'll send a doctor to your quarter.” He said. I was about to refuse but I realized I could use some help. Because I feel like I won't be able to train the next morning if I didn't take the help. I nodded and continued our walk.

“How was today?” I asked him. “What was hard for you? Tell me so I can guide you.” He avoided eye contact and gulped nervously. I squinted at him. He was being very suspicious.

"Oh, hahahaha! Nothing much.." he nervously scratched his nape. That expression tells me that a lot happened this morning, and that none of it was good.

[21witnokidz]

IN THE GHETTO

Chapter 3

You and Hosea have been riding for some time now until you both make your way to a camp hidden in the woods. There you see tents and boxes and wagons. Not what you expected an outlaw camp to look like.

“Well this is home. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Hosea gets off the horse and helps you off. You see another man step out of a tent. He looked even more sharp than Hosea. He even had pomade in his hair by the looks of it.

“Y/N this is Dutch Van Der Linde. He’s the leader of this here gang.”

I waved my hand and said my hello. Hosea took me over to one of the tables where a woman was reading in her book.

“This is Bessie. I’m sure you’d want to stay around her since you want nothing to do with us outlaws like you say.”

The woman looked very nice. She gave you the same vibes your mom gave you. Sweet but can be fierce.

“Why hello there. It’s nice to have another girl around here. You an orphan? You must be hungry we have some stew in the pot.”

Bessie led you to the cooking pot while Hosea went to talk with Dutch. When you got to the pot you saw a boy there who looked to be the same age as you. Brown hair. Blue eyes. And a gun decorating his hip.

You hadn’t realized how hungry you truly were until your stomach was grumbling. You looked in the pot only to find it empty.

“Arthur Morgan did you eat all the food despite knowing that Hosea still had to get back to get some?!”

Bessie smacked him on the head and he scurried up.

“By god Bessie I thought since he was going into town he’d get his own damn food!”

The boy named Arthur was now standing rubbing his head from the smack Bessie gave it. He finally turned to notice you.

“Who’s the urchin?”

Bessie smacked him again.

“Her name is Y/N and you’re eating her food! Now go into the woods and catch her a squirrel or something”

Your stomach immediately stopped grumbling at the thought of eating a squirrel. You should’ve known staying with a group like this wouldn’t exactly call for fine dining.

“Fine but she’s coming with me”

Arthur grabbed your arm and dragged you with him.

“Hey don’t just drag me. I’ll come along with you but calm down”

He just shook his head and made his way towards the woods.

-

“So your names Y/N? You an orphan too?”

The rude boy said, looking for your dinner.

“Yea. Outlaws killed them. 2 weeks later Hosea found me”

He then turned and smiled at you.

“Ain’t that ironic. Outlaws were the ones who sent yer parents to an early grave and now your runnin with them”

“Nothin funny about it”

He finally found a squirrel and shot it from the tree.

“You sure know how to handle that gun”

“Sure do. Gotta know or else I’d be dead.”

He took the squirrel and stuffed it in his satchel.

“I see that nice lil pistol you been carrying around. You even know how to use it?”

I puffed my chest up at the question

“I know how to take the safety off I can tell you that much”

Arthur laughed and took the gun from me. He pulled the barrel out and it was empty.

“Yea good luck tryna get far with an empty gun”

He handed it back to you and started making his way back towards camp.

“Hold up. Can you teach me? I need to learn to defend myself”

He stopped and sighed.

“You better hope my bullets fit in that fancy dancy gun of yours girlie or you’re outta luck”

He loaded my gun and they did fit.

“Ok now I ain’t no teacher but ya did ask me to teach you so here. Learnin a gun ain’t hard just aim and shoot. You already got the safety bit down so that’s good. All ya gotta do is get used to the recoil and what not. Cus ya don’t wanna fall on yer ass in the middle of a shootout cus yer little bitty body couldn’t handle the force of a gun”

He took a bottle of cheap whiskey from his satchel and chugged it. He placed the empty bottle on a tree stump and moved you back a little. And with that he left you there.

“Good luck”

You turned back and he was walking back to the camp, leaving you.

“Where’re you going?!”

“Ya gotta learn survival! When you’re done with yer practice try to find yer way back to camp! Yer food should be ready by then!”

You turned back. You had to get good at this. You wanted to get good before it got dark. You tried to shoot the bottle but missed. Fuck that recoil is no joke. But you sure as hell weren’t going to fall on your ass. Again. Another miss.

After a while you shot the bottle. And even a few other targets. You figured it was time to go back since the sun was going down.

Now you’ve lived in the forests. You know how to navigate them. Whenever you and your father went on fishing trips he would leave you on your own sometimes. One time you were lost for 2 days and were so hungry you ate a poison berry and almost fucking died. Of course your mother had something to help you live and now guess what? You know exactly what berry not to eat next time. And your immune system is stronger because of it.

You found your way back to the camp where, like Arthur promised, your food was sitting on a table.

“How was target practice”

You haven’t talked to Dutch at all but there he was chewing on an apple.

“It was good but Arthur didn’t have to leave me out in the wilderness like that.”

“Yea he’s a little rough but he can be a good kid sometimes. Anyway you can sleep in his tent while he sleeps outside okay?”

He ruffled your hair and went into his own tent.

It made you feel bad how Arthur had to sleep in the cold while you took his tent. But when you looked near the fire he was already asleep by it.

You went inside the tent and laid there. You trusted these people but not too much. So that night you slept with your gun in your hand.

[miyagifangkai]

Love/Hate

Word Count: 3,000 another longish one lol

Summary: Eli is your roommate. You’ve know each other for almost a year and half now and you guys can’t seem to get along. With the endless bickering and claims that you hate each other always tends to mean something else. With undeniable chemistry and constant pining for one another, what do you think is gonna happen?

Characters Involved: Eli/Hawk, Y/N, Miguel

Couple Pairing: Eli/Hawk x Reader

Warnings: THIS ONE GETS STEAMY!!! Not straight out smut but definitely a tad on the spicy side. Tons of cursing, hurt feelings, lots of mentions of the word “sex”, drinking, partying but just an overview of it, angsty, also me kinda thirsting for Miguel I’m not sorry about it 😋 •characters are 21+•

A/N: hey, I really enjoyed writing this one. I don’t know why I tend to favor a Hawk and Miguel dynamic but I really do? Don’t ask. But I hope you enjoy reading this one 💕 Also, I’m sorry I couldn’t follow through on smut yet. I’m trying to challenge myself more so just give it time. 🤘

Jeez, how you hated this boy. How he just knew exactly what to do to grind your gears.

How did you end up with him as your roommate? I mean, how you searched endlessly for the right fit and you ended up with… Eli motherfucking Moskowitz or aka “Hawk” ugh god, what a dumb name. He made your skin crawl whenever you caught sight of him or even when you caught a whiff of him, “God, ELI!!! You’ve gotta stop using that body spray or I’m going to karate chop the shit outta you!” Eli runs down the steps and rebuttals, “Excuse me babe, but this body spray is what brings in the ladies—“ your chuckle interrupts him as you say, “Oh yeah, because you just can’t seem to keep them off of you. I mean you’re just always surrounded,” your voice is laced with sarcastic venom, but in your head you’re thankful that he’s not the most popular with them, as he tries to hide his hurt feelings he says,“Oh, yeah? Well, what about you? I’m sure your bitterness is just a charmer with the dudes,” Eli continues, “because being desperate and lonely is so fucking sexy.” You step back and gasp at him not being able to hide the fact that you just let Moskowitz win an argument. “You know what? Fuck you. I hate you, Eli.” You stomp up the stairs leaving Hawk standing down there with regret written all over his face.

You slam your door and start talking to yourself saying, “why’d I let him in? I mean seriously? Did I think it would be a good idea?” You hop onto your bed, lay there for a bit just stewing, and end up falling asleep.

“So, Eli, please tell me why you think you’d be a good roommate?”

Eli responds, “I think I could be a good roommate because I’m fun to be around, good at being the best, and I can really kick ass if you need me to.”

You stare at him with your eyebrow raised and slowly say, “Ri-i-i-ght. Now, that’s appealing.” Eli leans back in his seat as you say this, “You think I’m appealing, Princess?” And you develop a disgusted reaction towards the nickname and say, “Excuse me, I have a name and you will call me by that name.” Eli’s confidence falters a bit and you try to hide your smirk. “Fine. Y/N. Are you going to let me live here or not?” You now sit back up in your seat, reach out your hand, and say, “Yeah, well, you do meet the requirements and will be able to pay your part of the bills. It’s a deal, Moskowitz.” Eli shakes your hand and says, “It’s a deal. But I have a name too and make sure you respect that boundary as well,” fucking checkmate; he nailed you. Even though, when he touched your hand you felt something, your heart started to pound as your pupils started to dilate and you noticed a change in Eli as well. He looks at you intently as he licks his lips and his eyes start to move down to your lips; until you decide to stand up and break the tension. “Well, I can’t wait to live with you. You can start moving your things whenever you want.” You give him a small smile and get ready to show him the tour of the house.

Eli stands up and takes a few steps to be beside you, “Alright, this is our kitchen” and Eli gives a low “mhm” and you lead him back to the living room, “You’ve already seen the living room but here it is again” you catch Eli leaning back to check you out and you just shake it off; not wanting to bicker again. Plus, you were kinda enjoying the attention. He was a very handsome man and you couldn’t help but be attracted to him. You lead him upstairs as your mind starts screaming, “You know he’s checking out your ass right? You 100% know that he is.” You give yourself a smirk but make it disappear when you show him the rest of the upstairs. Definitely didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing you’re enjoying his company. You both walk back down to the living room, “And there’s the tour. What do you think of the place? Anything to your liking?”

“Oh, yes it’s very nice. There’s plenty of things to my liking,” he gives you a big smile and you just roll your eyes. You and him shake hands again and say your goodbyes, “Bye, Eli. It was a pleasure meeting you. I’ll see you soon?” “Yes. I’ll start moving my things in soon. Oh yeah, the pleasure was all mine,” he winks at you. You sigh, “Are you done now?” You cross your arms but couldn’t help but smile at him. “Yeah, I’m done now. See ya later.” Oh, how you wish you would’ve just told him no that day. But now you’re stuck with him at least for another few months until the lease is up.

You wake up from your nap to extremely loud music reverberating through the walls, you still find yourself to be extremely pissed off. You? Desperate? Are you kidding? You were gonna show him. You were gonna fuck someone tonight just out of pure spite. Or is it just because you want to have sex with Eli? You’d never admit it to anybody but yourself but even when he’d get on your last nerve or make you mad you just wanted to grab his face and kiss him… kiss him, oh so passionately.

You stand up and walk down stairs, not even caring that you were only wearing shorts and a men’s blue and white button up shirt, to see that Eli is throwing a party without even asking you. Of course, it’s a party full of his karate buds. You never had anything against them, it's just they know how to leave a mess and not clean it up. You got along with them well especially when you were in a partying mood but you couldn’t remember their names very well because you always saw them when you were drunk. Nevertheless, you’re furious and you’re ready to raise some Hell. You search through the party to see Eli standing in the corner talking to one of his friends, what’s his name? You believe it’s Miguel? Miguel Diaz. Man, he knew how to clean up nicely; did he get taller since the last time you saw him? Wow, wasn’t he nice to look at. But! You’re not here for Miguel, you’re here for Eli ugh totally gross. You approach him with a stern look on your face and say, “Hey, uhm, what. the. fuck.” Eli whips around wide eyed with his purple Mohawk and dark purple shirt and those black jeans that just always fit him so nicely says, “Please, don’t be mad.. I just wanted to have a good time and since I felt bad about earlier I wanted you to cut loose too, okay?”

Miguel wide eyes as well states, “Yeah, he really did plan this for you and not him, like, at all,” Miguel says. Eli punches Miguel’s arm with Miguel yelping a quiet “ouch” as Eli says, “Really, dude?”

You just roll your eyes at the two imbeciles in front of you and say, “I’m not so mad anymore.” Eli starts to smile as you continue on, “But! Next time you need to ‘cut loose’ at least tell me so I can be mentally prepared for the mess tomorrow morning, Eli.” Eli nods his head and smiles, “Hold on let me grab my notepad and a pen real quick so I can write that down with a list of things that make you a complete buzzkill.” You stick your tongue out at him and walk over to the kitchen to make yourself a drink.

You look up from the kitchen to see everyone talking or dancing to the music and your eyes land on Miguel again as he’s staring at you, “a little creepy” you think. Even though Miguel wasn’t a bad looking guy, you just had your eyes on someone else even if that someone else was an infuriating asshole! An asshole with such a gorgeous face and a totally rockin’ body.. ugh you hated him.

But you decide to approach him and you say, “why are you staring? Do I look funny or something?” Miguel laughs, “No. You just look really pretty, that’s all.” You look at him wide eyed, “Whoa, seriously? Well, that’s sweet. Thank you. You don’t look too shabby yourself. You clean up nice, Miguel.” Miguel just beams at you and you both start conversing amongst yourselves.

You happen to feel a hole burning through the side of your head when you look over to your side and see Hawk leaned up against the wall, clenching his jaw; you just roll your eyes and look back at Miguel.

“Hey, uhm, do you wanna go up to my room? It’s really loud down here.” You ask Miguel and he agrees. You both proceed to the stairs and as you pass Eli you feel the heat off of his body, you think you even see him hesitating to grab your arm, Miguel was too drunk to notice and just gives Eli a quick nod of appreciation.

You and Miguel reach your room as he walks around checking everything out.

“Whoa, you have the whole entire Nightmare on Elm Street collection? That’s awesome!” You laugh, “Yeah, my favorite movies ever. Krueger is an icon in cinema. I just love it.”

Miguel takes a seat on your bed, “You know, I think I prefer ‘Halloween’ the most. Something so mysterious and absolutely terrifying about Michael Myers.” You nod, “I agree with that. He really is a force to be reckoned with.”

You sit down beside Miguel and look at him and he says, “Y/N, is it okay if I kiss you right now?”

All you can do is nod as you swallow thickly and let him lean in. Miguel, drunkenly, kisses you almost missing your mouth as you cup his face and lead him to the right place. You kiss him back quickly and pull away. Both of you breathing heavily you maneuver yourself to be sitting on Miguel’s lap so you can get a better angle to kiss him. Things start to get more and more heavy as you start to unbutton your blue and white striped shirt which reveals the top of your bra. Miguel is about to say something when Hawk bursts into the room and yells, “Miguel get the fuck out!” and you yell back, “No, Eli. You’re not going to ruin this.” You get off of Miguel and start buttoning your shirt back as he mutters, “Y/N, I think I should go.” As he quickly rushes out of the room and you stomp up to Eli and say, “Are you serious? What the fuck is your problem? You are not allowed to insert yourself into my business like this, you asshole!” Eli just stares at you angrily but his eyes soften when he looks into your eyes and he says, “Ah, fuck it.” And he kisses you. You break the kiss and take a few steps back. “Eli? What are you doing?” Eli steps forward, “Y/N, I know we fight a lot.. but—“

“No. I’m serious. Why did you kiss me? I don’t understand. Are you playing me like you do those other girls? Because a funny thing to me the last time we fought you said you found me disgusting,” you look up at him with confusion and pain. “Disgusting? What the hell? I did not call you disgusting! I was just saying bullshit because you hurt my feelings. I love you, you idiot!” Eli’s face suddenly turns red, his eyes widen, as he takes a step back.

“Oh? You love me? Is that what you say to all the other girls you use just for one night? Am I next your target?” You truly had no idea what you were saying; Eli didn’t really get with many girls. He’s had a couple of a few night stands but nothing out of the ordinary. You weren’t sure if it was because you were jealous of these women or hurt at Eli for not telling you for so long but one thing you knew for sure was that you love him back.

“Y/N, what are you talking about? Ever since we met I’ve always had my eyes on you. Always. Don’t be stupid,” Eli’s tone grows a little bit agitated with you. He couldn’t handle the thought of losing you.

“Why?” You ask.

“Why what?”

“Why do you love me? When did it happen?” You stare daggers into the boy.

“The first day I met you I felt something between us. C’mon we had chemistry and you can’t deny that. I don’t know why I love you. Maybe it’s because you’re fiery but very sensitive and you’re so creative, smart, and hilarious. I also love the thing you do when you get nervous. You start to twirl your hair in your fingers and bite your lip and every time you do it I go fucking crazy on the inside because all I want to do is kiss you and run my hands through your hair and make you fucking mine.” His pupils start to dilate and his voice becomes desperate. You decide to fuck with him because you knew you wanted him just as bad but you couldn’t pour your heart out so easily just yet, “Say it again. But this time get on your knees,” you point to the floor and almost crack up. He smiles, “Oh, fuck you.”

“Please do.” You can’t believe you just said that. Did you really give in that easily?

“Hey, don’t test me. I’ll take you up on that offer,” Hawk takes a step back towards you.

You take a step back, “Don’t get me wrong I’d love to but we do have a house full of very drunk people.”

You don’t understand why you’re so nervous to be with him now. You wish that you could just disappear right now; the way he keeps looking at you like you’re the only person in the world. That it’s just you and him.

“Well, let’s make them leave,” Hawk runs down the stairs screaming, “GUYS! GET OUT! COPS ARE COMING RUN!”

Everyone starts piling out in a rush leaving empty beer bottles and food lying around.

“See Eli? This is why I don’t like to approve of your get-togethers!” You start picking up the bottles one by one and throwing them in the trash.

Eli steps towards you and kisses you passionately. Your brain is running a million miles a minute. You don’t know what to think or say at all. All you can do is feel the moment and let it take you by storm. You wrap your arms around his neck as he gives you the go ahead to jump up. You jump and wrap your legs around him as he pushes you against the wall. Your kisses were filled with want and pure lust; as you both just wanted to rip each other’s clothes off right there. You both pull away and you say, “Also, are you and Miguel gonna be okay? I’m sorry. He was drunk and I took advantage of that. I’ll need to talk to him later about that and apologize.”

Eli just kisses you again and says, “We will be fine, Y/N.” You nod your head and kiss him back. He takes you to the couch and lays you down.

“You know, Y/N? You’re one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever met.” You look into his eyes and they’re filled with honesty and love.

“Eli, I think I love you,” you sigh, “I was too afraid to tell you because I didn’t think you felt the same.” Eli smiles at you and kisses you again but this kiss was very light, “Good. Because I think I love you too.”

Instead of going your separate ways and being alone in your rooms pining for one another, you both finally get to have a nightcap and release all of the want and longing that you have had for each other. Every touch and every kiss leaves you feeling hopelessly blissful as the room fills with your moans. Quiet whispers of “I love you” are repeatedly said throughout the entire time. He takes you gently and lovingly, completely making you his.

You both wake up the next day, on the couch, you're half naked with a shirt on, and Hawk managed to put his underwear back on before you both fell asleep; you guys take a look at each other and just laugh out of pure happiness.

You say, “Well, that was a fun night”

Hawk laughs again, “Yeah, it was pretty amazing if I do say so myself.”

“You’re seriously complimenting yourself right now?”

“Hell yeah, Princess! I’m awesome!”

“Okay, sure. You are pretty fucking awesome,” You give him a quick kiss and stand up going to the kitchen to get something to drink.

You and Eli decide to start dating after that day because why not? You’re both spontaneous. Going on romantic dates or going on regular dates but it’s almost a guarantee that sex will always lead out of it. You couldn’t help yourselves. You eventually got the chance to talk to Miguel and apologize for your poor choices; he forgives you and you two remain friends. Eli and Miguel make amends as well, becoming closer than they ever have been.

You’re so happy that you met Eli. Because without him you wouldn’t even know that it’d be possible to love and hate someone at the same time. But he was yours and that’s all that mattered to you.

[shyficwriter]

Who's Tougher Part 3

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!) Guest starring Thor & Loki

Summary: If you were expecting anything the day after the Guardians find out you're a Nephilim, it wasn't for Thor and Loki to decide to "pop-in" for a visit. Too bad Yondu won't let you hide.

Author’s Note: Part 1 here. Part 2 here.

Word Count: 1,873

You were on the lower deck helping Yondu and Kraglin sort out the best course for an upcoming job. They hadn't brought up anything from the night before and you were grateful for that. You could feel the others staring at you all morning, and so you jumped at the chance to join the two men below deck to work.

Like, you got it. You really did. It would be odd to find out one of your friends had been hiding that they had certain powers or extra abilities, but it was nice to be with a couple of people who at least pretended they didn't give a crap about finding out you weren't actually Terran.

And for the most part, it was true. Yondu and Kraglin didn't care if you weren't Terran. They had raised Peter knowing he was half-celestial for 24 years. You being a Nephilim probably wasn't much different, and the fact that you admitted you didn't use your powers because you couldn't control them pretty much put you in the same boat as Peter, far as they were concerned. It also didn't look like you were gonna start wanting special treatment, if anything it was obvious you would abhor anything like that happening, so yeah, they didn't really care as long as you continued pulling your weight. Far as they were concerned, nothing had changed.

You had opened your mouth to ask Yondu a question when you heard an all-too-familiar voice booming out a happy greeting from the floor above you, followed by Mantis's bubbly excited cry of "Peter! Thor came to visit! And he brought a friend!"

You eyes went wide and you paled, dropping your pen and whatever else you were doing in an instant. "Oh no- Oh fuck-"

"What?" Yondu asked, looking at you strangely. He of course had heard it too, but he wasn't really expecting the look of fear that was in your eyes. Yeah, you had looked awful nervous when Rocket had called the "Thunder Man," but now that almost looked like genuine horror in your eyes. He wondered if he should be worried or amused, and from the look on Kraglin's face, he did too.

"I've got to get out of here." you say, starting to back away while still looking at the ceiling.

"No ya don't," said Kraglin, grabbing your arm and pulling you back. He realized this was likely the perfect time to find out why you were so nervous when Rocket called Thor last night. "Not until you at least tell us what's got ya so scared of Thor and his brother."

You looked at Yondu pleadingly, but he only nodded in agreement with Kraglin.

"Can we maybe do this later?" you plead, your urgency to hide becoming ever more apparent when a voice, softer than Thor's, could be heard asking one of the others upstairs if you were around.

Yondu almost laughed. He hadn't seen you like this before, but whatever had gotten your pants in a twist was clearly the fault of whoever was upstairs. "Nah, I wanna hear what's got you all riled up. This fella an ex-boyfriend of yers or somethin'?"

You make a face at him. "No!"

"Then what? Spill it, otherwise I might just be tempted to call them down here myself." Yondu chuckled.

You glare back at him. "You wouldn't dare."

"He really would, trust me." Kraglin warned, grinning.

"Ugh, fine!" you relented. "When we were younger, there was this prank that sorta went wrong..."

"Go on," Yondu prodded, intrigued.

"And well, you see, I didn't mean for it to happen, but I might have sorta accidentally made Loki lose his hair. Like all of it. Not just on his his head, everywhere. Eyebrows, everything. I heard it took months to start growing back in fully..." you nervously fidgeted, "and I imagine he's probably still real sore about that."

Yondu laughed. "That's all? If that happened when ya'll were kids I doubt he even remembers. I don't see what yer worried about." Sure, maybe it was because Yondu never had much hair himself save for his beard, but he didn't really see what the big deal was.

"You clearly don't know him then," you say, "so if you'll excuse me I'm going to go hide."

Yondu scoffed. "Last I checked we don't hide from our problems like scared babies. How can ya expect to call yerself a guardian of the galaxy if you're gonna run and hide like a scared little orloni? Ya gotta face up to yer fears, not run from them."

You tried to reason with him. "No- you don't understand-"

"I understand plenty enough. Yer gonna march up there and face yer fears like an adult."

"You really don't understand," you pleaded, "I'd have a better chance with the airlock. I can't!"

Yondu rolled his eyes, "Yes ya can. Come on." he then collared you and began to march you towards the stairs. Kraglin followed, fighting not to giggle at the sight.

"No- wait- Yondu- please! Come on!" Your pleas fell on deaf ears the entire way up the stairs until you reached the landing and Yondu turned you to face him.

"Look here. Either ya can straighten up and face this fella, or you can embarrass yourself by continuing to act like a scared little kid, what's it gonna be?"

You look at him pitifully and say, "I really hate you right now."

He only grinned and said, "I know it," before ushering you forward towards the sounds of the voices, keeping his hand on your shoulder.

When you neared the doorway of the room the others were in Yondu felt you start to resist again, but he just pushed you on without a word, chuckling to himself and throwing an amused look at Kraglin, who was grinning wide. All too soon the three of you were standing in the doorway, staring at the rest of the team as they caught up with Thor.

You forced a small smile when Mantis looked over and happily announced your arrival, prompting Thor to turn towards you with a big smile and begin to approach you, calling your name and opening his arms for a hug.

Yondu gave you a not-completely-gentle push when Thor got close enough and you collided the the tall man as he embraced you. You returned the hug, tentatively at first, but then fully. If you were honest with yourself, you had missed him too, and it was nice to be hugged by your old friend.

After a moment or two he pulled away so he could look at you. "It's been so long! No wonder I didn't recognize you!" He chuckled, adding, "I guess 800 years will do that though, I'm sure I also look very different, so it's no wonder you didn't recognize me as well."

Well, that saved your ass in one regard, at least he wouldn't be hurt by (rightfully) thinking you'd been avoiding him and Loki.

"I'm sorry, did you just say 800 years?" Peter interjected.

You gave a sheepish look to your team, who all had wide, surprised eyes. There were several open mouths about the bunch. You were sure if you turned around to look Yondu and Kraglin might have matched their expressions.

Thor looked between you and the rest of the gang before looking back at you with a chuckle, "Didn't tell them?"

You shrugged, still looking sheepish. "Do you think they'd have believed me?" you say with a slight chuckle, throwing a nervous look at Peter and Gamora who still looked like they were processing this new information.

Thor grinned. "I guess not." He then stepped aside, beckoning Loki to say hi to his old friend, cooing about how much you had changed since they'd seen you last.

It wasn't until then that you had gotten a good look at Loki, as Thor's larger frame had obscured him before. He didn't approach to crush you in a hug like Thor, instead staying where he was and offering a little wave as he grinned. You grin nervously and offer a wave in return. You could feel a heat rising in your cheeks.

Dammit.

Of course he would have grown up pretty. His hair certainly came back nicely.

You try to shake the thought from your mind as you turn to Thor and ask, "So, um, what brings you guys here?"

To your surprise, Thor put his arm around your shoulder and walked you closer to where everyone else was at. "Well, Rabbit's call lost signal before I could find Loki," He released you and you turned back to the doorway to see that while Yondu and Kraglin had also stepped further into the room, they remained close to the door, grinning. They were blocking the door so you couldn't run away, the bastards. Thor continued, "so Loki suggested we just pop-by for a visit instead." Thor answered with a grin.

Your head snapped back toward the group. So it was Loki's idea? Oh no.

Loki's grin seemed to get wider. "Yes, I thought it'd be fun to catch up with an old friend. I can't for the life of me remember why we lost touch. Do you?" His eyes seemed to sparkle with glee, and you were certain you weren't imagining it.

You swallowed, forcing a smile. He absolutely remembered. Crap. "Um, no. I have no idea either..." you lied, praying that no one else noticed the blush in your cheeks. "I guess things just... happen."

"Would you guys like to stay for supper?" Gamora offered, and Peter gave her a look. Peter and Thor had only just barely gotten past their dick-measuring contest the last time he was here, and his ego was still a little bruised. Gamora caught his look and clarified, "That way everyone can catch up more? Drax will be making stew."

Stay for supper? Oh no. It was only just after lunch, they'd be here for hours if they stayed for supper. Gamora, why?? Well, it was just an offer, they may decline...

Thor and Loki exchanged looks each meant to ask if the other cared before shrugging and Thor answering that they'd love to stay for supper.

Damn.

Yondu spoke up. "Hell, why not stay a couple days!" Peter shot him a look as well before he caught Yondu's wink. "After all, you three must have a lot of catchin' up to do if it's been 800 years since ya'll seen each other last."

You throw a pleading glare at the Centaurian and Thor speaks up, "Oh, we could never impose like that-"

You quietly sighed. Thank goodness.

"Nonsense, boy!" Yondu says, approaching to put his arms around you and Thor's shoulders. "We're happy to have the company. Right, Quill?"

Aw, hell, Yondu! Seriously!? You wanted to kill him.

To your dismay Peter had read the room and now sported a smile. "Yeah. Stay a couple days, I insist."

Your nostrils flared. These fuckers were working against you. However, your blood ran cold when you heard Loki's smooth voice say, "Well, brother, they did insist," and then heard Thor finally agree to staying.

Loki met your eyes, grinning wide.

You were so dead.

[heyitsphoenixx]

I Hope You’re Happy Pt. 6

I don’t like Ryan any more than Cassie does, that’s all I’m saying.

TW: brief mentions of rape, manslaughter, assault

All Parts AO3

gif by: @mickeysjones

“He’s gotta be fucking kidding,” said Gail.

‘Oh no, he’s dead fucking serious,” said Cassie. 

“A fucking plea bargain?”

“We knew this might happen, it was always a possibility,” said Michael.

It had been a week after the initial hearing and the three of them were now watching Al’s sentencing on Gail’s TV in her apartment. Cassie sat back on the couch with her arms crossed, Michael sat on a chair beside her with his elbows on his knees, and Gail stood opposite him, fuming like her favorite football team had lost miserably. 

“We expected this would happen, or at least I did, that’s why I hired you,” Cassie said to Michael. 

“Oh, I had no doubt his lawyers were ready to make a deal with the prosecution since I saw them last week looking already bored as shit, believe me. He just wanted to make a point, and to get his point on television. His attorneys told him he could do that, and get less time in prison if he just switched his plea and paid up. As far as he’s concerned this is a job well done,” he said with a grim laugh. “And that’s why I accepted you as my client, I pretty much figured this would happen. There’s no way any justice was going to come out of that room with all that money and posturing saturating the air. Instead of the possibility of a life sentence staring him in the face he’s dwindled that down to a cool eight years now.”

“Yeah, good for him. It’s not every day you get to pay off your second charge of rape in your life and your first charge of attempted manslaughter. I hope his mommy puts his reduced sentencing on the fridge for him while he’s gone,” Cassie deadpanned. 

“I can’t believe he can just change his mind, and all his problems just go away!” Gail cried, pacing in little circles, hands on her hips, not knowing what to do with herself. 

“This was his plan from the very beginning,” said Michael, “But Cassie, now’s our chance. When Green texted us last week you know he wasn’t talking about preparations for a criminal case, he was talking about starting your civil case. It may not be the life sentence that he deserves, but he’s gonna rot in prison for eight whole years, and on top of that you can get justice for yourself out of him. When you win, yes, you’ll get some money out of him, as you should, but I know it’s not about that for you. We’ll get him for assault and battery so when he’s behind bars he can stew in there knowing that he didn’t get away with it. The world will know that he didn’t get away with it, because those cameras aren't going anywhere if we sue him now. It won’t be easy, but I know we can nail him for this.” He spoke with conviction, and it made Cassie suspicious. 

“You don’t have to sell me on it Michael, I already hired you. Why are you doing this anyway? I know you’re not just doing this because your sister asked you for a favor, this is too big of a risk for you now. Why would a lawyer who specializes in criminal cases lower themselves down for a civil case?” She questioned him with an eyebrow raised, wanting to be sure of his motivations. He licked his lips and she saw his jaw clench.

“I was still a student at Stanford when Gail called me and told me all about the first case with him and Nina, and how torn up you all were from it. It didn’t even get the dignity of a plea hearing last time before it was completely dismissed. It made me want to scream when she told me how the newspaper headlines fawned over him, how they preferred to praise his GPA rather than admit their star student was a monster. And then when she told me Nina had passed... I don’t know. It’s not like people like him don’t get away with this exact thing every day in court, but I think that’s just it. I see it happen every day. I know you’re exhausted seeing it, more than most, but I’m really fucking tired of it too. I just want to bring one of them down myself. I want one of these bastards to know that at the end of the day, it isn’t the entire world conspiring to help him. Most of it, probably, but not all. I want him awake at night knowing that what he did won’t be seamlessly forgotten by throwing money at the problem. He should know in at least some small capacity, that he is wrong, and he is hated.”

Cassie had kept her arms crossed, but as he spoke her face had softened from suspicion into surprise at his passion. His knuckles were white as his hands were locked together, elbows still on knees, and he stared ahead like he was watching something only he could see play out in front of him. Cassie looked over to Gail with a question in her eyes. 

“His girlfriend in college...” Gail trailed off when Michael gave her a sharp look. Cassie understood and reached over to put a hand on his arm.

“Hey,” she said and he turned to look at her.

“I told them we’ll give him a war, right? So that’s what we’re gonna fucking do,” she said with a wry smile. 

He seemed to shake himself out of the scene that had preoccupied him.

“Alright then, let’s start strategizing.”

_________________________________

Every other day for two weeks, Cassie and Michael were coming up with their case against Al. They poured over medical documents from the ER, her fingerprints on the scalpels and the alcohol, his fingerprints on her clothes, the pillow, the sheets, the handcuffs, and anything else they could find. Almost every time they met up they went far into the night and early morning reviewing each piece of evidence, assessing who’s testimonies would cause the most trouble, who they could guarantee would be on their side, and how to best persuade the jury. Because this was a civil case now, there was a lower “civil burden of proof,” so she only had to prove to the jury that there was a greater than 50% chance that he assaulted her, but they knew this still wasn’t going to be that easy. There was no doubt that his attorneys were going to do their best to pack the court with people he knew who liked him or people he didn’t know but were perfectly willing to take a bribe to gain his favor. That’s where Green would come in to help them play as dirty as they needed him to. 

On her off days, she was back to working at the coffee shop with Gail, who insisted she told her everything about what they were planning. Cassie told her as much as she was legally able to, and she was grateful it wasn’t much because she was desperate to keep Gail away from the details. She knew she should tell her about all of her outings in the past that could come up in the case, but she couldn’t bear the thought of Gail’s face if she told her. 

And they might not even come up, Cassie thought, they have nothing to do with what happened that night anyway. There’s no reason they should come up, so there’s no reason to tell her if it’s not even going to be a problem. 

Cassie was wiping down a table in the nearly empty shop when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.

Hey, I know we haven’t talked since the courthouse but I saw him switch sides for the plea bargain, wanted to check you're ok

She rolled her eyes at the screen but couldn’t help the smile that crept on her face. 

Wow Ryan, I’m truly overwhelmed with emotion from the urgency with which you texted two weeks after the sentencing to check in on me, I’m falling to the ground, hand on forehead as we speak

She went back to cleaning tables but at a slower pace than before to give him time, bothering to wipe down the chairs for the first time in probably forever. It buzzed again.

I’ll meet you at the er again if you have a concussion. Heard you’re suing him anyway and figured you were busy. I’m happy if anyone is gonna stick up to him in his whole life that it’s you

“I’m sorry, am I paying you to text ex-boyfriends?” Gail accused.

Cassie turned to her, phone in hand, with a poor excuse for a shocked expression on her face.

“And how could you possibly assume that it’s him?”

“In all these years you’ve worked here I’ve never once seen you clean these tables that thoroughly, much less the chairs. And he’s the only person I know who’s been able to put that stupid grin on your face. If I didn’t know better I might say he’s not even an ex,” said Gail, eyebrows raised in judgement. 

“Well you should know better, because he is. Just because someone texts you once every two weeks doesn’t mean you’re dating them Gail, I hate to break it to you,” she chided.

“Yet you still haven’t told me why exactly you broke up with him in the first place.”

“You were right, he was killing children,” Cassie avoided. Gail rolled her eyes but smiled like she knew something Cassie didn’t. 

“Fine then, don’t tell me. But you can’t hide that look on your face from me,” said Gail smugly before she turned to do inventory in the back.

If you’re free later or feel like escaping from paperwork for a couple of hours would you wanna catch a movie?

Cassie blinked, mildly surprised at the question, but another text came through quickly before she could respond.

As friends of course

And then another;

Frenemies even, if that’s better

She bit down the grin threatening to appear again as she considered. He was a distraction, yes, but she was exhausted from all of the planning and preparation with Michael, working every day between that time, and then coming home to her parents who looked at her like she might collapse in their arms any second. Ryan was anything but safe territory for her, but he was outside of it all, and she needed to be around someone who wasn’t fully wrapped up in this. She needed some kind of distraction, and he wasn’t asking to be anything more.

“Hey,” she called to Gail, “is it alright if I head out early? Michael wants to revise my testimony again and he’s being obsessive about it, wants me to meet him.”

“Mhmm, sure Cassie. Send Ryan my love.”

Cassie shook her head and returned to her phone to reply.

Frenemies works for me

_________________________________

Cassie drove into the parking lot of the movie theater to see Ryan already waiting for her, leaning against his car. She parked a few feet away and took a deep breath as he made his way towards her. 

Just a distraction. Nothing more. You don’t even like him.

He opened her door for her and she stepped out, giving him side-eye.

“Do frenemies open doors for each other?” she asked, tilting her head at him like she was really wondering.

“I think so,” he said, “but only half the time, for half of the word, you know.”

She chuckled, keeping her eyes to the ground as he closed the door.

“First dumb joke of the night, check,” he said, pumping his fist in victory.

They made their way through the theater to grab their tickets and to Cassie’s surprise they walked right by the long line to get any food, which she found unusual since they always grabbed something in the past. She was notorious for finishing a whole bag of twizzlers after every movie.

“Are you cheaping out on me Cooper?” she accused, motioning towards the food counter. He stopped in his tracks and turned to look at the line winding around long enough to reach the bathroom, and slowly turned to her again, shaking his head and making noises of disapproval with his tongue.

“I am deeply offended that you would think I wouldn’t come here fully loaded,” he said, opening his jacket up to reveal inside pockets filled to the brim with candies of every variety she could think of. He held open one side and discretely pulled out a pack of twizzlers, handing them to her as they picked up their pace to not be seen.

She was grateful he had chosen a comedy, seeming to understand that that’s what she probably needed most right now, to not think about the case, or Al, or Nina, or any of it, and just laugh. He was careful to keep his long legs close together to prevent accidentally touching hers, even when he was bent over himself laughing. Occasionally he’d whisper some comment about how if she looked closely she could see the green screen falling behind the actors, or how he could swear he heard the same line come out of a petulant patient of his’ mouth last week, or how that CGI monster was definitely just a rip off of a specific Pokémon. She’d come back with how the woman on screen would never wear a miniskirt in the middle of a jungle, or questioned why the desert looked green at night, or pointed out the visible prosthetic on the main muscled character’s chest to give him fake abs. The two of them were shushed multiple times throughout the entire movie by the people around them as they riled each other up, which just sent them into an even bigger giggling fit like misbehaving toddlers. 

“No, you’re right, there’s no way she would end up with him,” Ryan agreed with her as they were leaving the theater, the sun setting behind them. “He’s too much of an idiot for her and she’d never be fawning over him that much. I know the amount of mosquito bites he must have from being shirtless that long in the jungle would be enough to put me off.” 

“Right? And how was her hair and makeup always kept so flawless? There’s no way she wouldn’t resemble Cousin It after all that humidity-”

“Watch out!” Ryan yelled at her. Cassie hadn’t realized she’d been walking into the street as she spoke and she froze as she saw headlights barreling towards her at full speed. 

She felt his hand grab her wrist at the last moment, pulling her into him with his other arm wrapped tightly around her waist. She held her breath as she watched the car pass them by. Her ear pressed against his chest, Cassie heard Ryan’s heart beating a million miles an hour and realized with a sinking feeling that the arm that wasn’t held by him was wrapped around his back, clutching his jacket.

Ryan realized what he’d done and quickly stepped away, releasing her arm and waist like he’d been burned, and she felt her skin freeze over where his embrace had been. 

“Fuck, sorry, I didn't mean to-I just...” 

Cassie wanted nothing more than to run at full speed, away from him, away from herself. She wanted to cut off the skin he had touched that had left her with frostbite, and she wanted to tie his hands around her so he couldn’t make her feel that empty again. She hated him and she hated her body for being so out of control. Eventually she looked up at him and saw his face, his utterly panicked face, and she caved.

“No, it’s... it’s okay. I’m okay. Thank you,” she said, finally letting out a breath, and managed to put on a weak smile for him. His eyes were still searching for any sign that she wanted him to leave and never see her again. She gave no such sign, but twirled around in a little circle. 

“See? I’m fine. I bounce back quickly.” She smiled in earnest now, and so did he.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, his hands shoved into his pockets. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t mention it.” She shook her head, dismissing his apology. He bit his lip, considering her.

“I swear, it’s like you miss the ER or something, you didn’t even look,” he teased, and she gave a small laugh.

“It’s my self-destructive tendencies acting up again. I should pencil in some therapy somehow between watching hilariously awful movies and plotting to destroy a man in court,” she said, half-joking, and she saw Ryan’s shoulders finally drop in relief at her light tone.

“Yeah, you really should. I’m normally impressed by you but that was quite the faux pas, I think my opinion of you has lowered at least twenty percent.”

She smiled as they reached her car and the sky was golden behind him. She was breathless again, but for a different reason she couldn’t bear to think about.

“Here, for your troubles,” he said, and pulled out a pack of skittles, her second favorite. “Tell your self-destructive tendencies not to eat them while you’re driving.”

She took the candy from him with a grin that was far beyond her control now.

“I’ll let them know, but I can’t promise they’ll listen,” she warned. His eyes were half-lidded over and she could swear the tips of his ears were pink.

“Just be careful, Cassie.”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Goodnight,” he said, quickly walking back to his car before she could answer, thankfully.

She got in her car, slamming the door and throwing the bag of skittles behind her in the backseat. She slammed her hands against the wheel before holding onto it in a death grip and letting out a scream. Why was she doing this to herself? I only feel worse after being around him, she thought, but it was a lie and she knew it. She reached to retrieve the skittles, ripping them open as she made her way out of the parking lot, her wrist still frozen.

_________________________________

TAGS: @mickeysjones @rhapsody-under-pressure @distinguishedfraud @ehweirdo @acedogs

[abused-sides]

Hungry [dead dove: do not eat]

    Trigger warning: someone dies from a food allergy and it’s VERY graphic, it’s an unsympathetic character. This is also written from someone who has a ton of severe food allergies, including the one that’s used, so it’s not some random asshole making light of a situation. Abusive relationships, death, murder, unsympathetic character is murdered

note: please read the trigger warnings and do not fucking read if it’ll bother/trigger you, this is the last warning

    xxx 

    Every morning, Janus ran out to buy him and Remus coffees while Remus stayed behind and burnt their breakfast. 

    Logan woke up to the smoke detector screaming and the rest of their roommates groaning while Roman frantically waved a blanket and snapped at his brother (Janus still smiled when he came home). It was as good of an alarm clock as any. 

    Every morning, Logan scraped together breakfast for a boyfriend he didn’t love. 

    Remus and Janus’ voices carried over from the living room as they ate on the couch. Logan used the burnt remnants of their stove to make bacon and eggs, something he could cook in his sleep. He wasn’t sleeping, though—He was focused on Remus and Janus. 

    “So,” Remus stole a piece of bacon and talked with his mouth full, “when’s the oaf getting up?” 

    Janus sipped at his coffee. “Obligatory defensive comment incoming,” he murmured, and Remus wrapped an arm around his waist. 

    “Don’t make fun of him,” Logan announced. 

    As much as Patton begged everyone to get along, Remus was never one to hide how he felt. Neither was Jaxon. 

    “You know he doesn’t do it on purpose, and you know he’ll be down here any second,” he whispered, and bumped Remus with his hip, who laughed. “Get out of here!” 

    Remus finished the bacon and said, “I gotta get to work anyway.” 

    That didn’t stop him from making out with Janus a good few minutes before leaving. 

    Jaxon stumbled into the kitchen sleepily. 

    “Morning, J,” Logan said quietly. 

    He hated Jaxon’s first appearance—he was too tired for Logan to tell what type of mood he was in. He used to stay quiet until he knew for sure, but Jaxon snapped at him once and said, “When you don’t say good morning, it feels like you’re mad at me or you don’t care about me.”

    Logan always said good morning now.

    Jaxon ignored him, took his plate, and went back upstairs. Logan relaxed. 

    “Just let me know when you want me to kill him for you,” Janus sneered, then ducked into his and Remus’ room. 

    Roman left for work next, singing on his way out, followed by Patton, who kissed Logan’s cheek and told him to stay safe. Virgil worked nights and didn’t wake until well after 3pm. Janus used noise-cancelling headphones while he worked. As much as Logan tried, he couldn’t get a shift today. He was essentially alone with Jaxon. 

    His stomach churned. 

    He went to his computer. 

    It didn’t take long for Jaxon to come back downstairs. He wrapped his arms around Logan’s shoulders and nuzzled into his neck. 

    “What’s going on?” Jaxon asked. “You’re tense.” 

    Logan’s shoulders relaxed. “I just have a lot of work to do.” 

    “So? Take a break. Come hang out with me.” 

    “Jaxon…” Logan frowned at the screen. “I have a deadline.” 

    Jaxon yanked his arms back. “Are you mad at me or something?” 

    Logan looked over his shoulder. “What? No. Why would I be mad?” 

    He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, brown eyes hard. “Because you haven’t hung out with me all week. I never see you anymore.” 

    “I work right here in the living room because you wanted to see me more,” Logan insisted. “And we watched three movies last night. We can watch three more tonight.” 

    “Well I don’t wanna force you.”

    Janus’ door creaked open. “That’s exactly what you want to do. Can you two quiet down?” 

    “Come with me,” Jaxon growled under his breath and grabbed Logan’s wrist. 

    Logan stumbled after him. 

    “HEY!” Janus stormed forward and grabbed Logan’s other wrist. “He has a deadline. He needs to work. Have you no manners?” 

    “Sorry, princess, I wasn’t raised in a castle.” Jaxon yanked Logan hard enough for his shoulder to ache. 

    “You’re hurting me,” he said desperately. 

    “Let go of him.” Janus’ eyes were deadly slits. His teeth were fangs, his grip of a Boa. 

    Logan pulled—he’d get punished for that later—until Jaxon let go and he stumbled back into Janus’ arms. Janus quickly righted him then took his hands away. Logan shivered. 

    “We’ll talk about this later,” Jaxon mumbled, “when the snake isn’t around.” 

    He turned and stomped up the stairs. The door slammed, and Logan flinched. 

    “I’m sorry,” he spouted as he turned to Janus. “I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t mean to interrupt your work.” 

    “Don’t worry about it.” 

    “And what he said—” 

    “I am a snake. It’s great. Is your wrist okay?” 

    Logan held it up. The skin was clear, but a bruise would surely show. “It’s fine. He almost…” He forced a laugh, “almost dislocated my shoulder, though.” 

    “Let me take a look at it. Sit down.” 

    Logan sat and Janus tugged his loose neckline down enough to expose his shoulder. Janus hummed. 

    “Is it hurting?” 

    “Just a little. I’m okay.” 

    “Let me get some ice.” 

    Janus came back a moment later and settled the icepack on Logan’s shoulder. 

    “Why haven’t you kicked us out?” Logan asked quietly. 

    “Because if he left, you’d go with him. And we like you a lot.” Janus ran his fingers through Logan’s hair, who leaned into the touch. “Besides, we have better plans for him. We’re killing him, remember?” 

    Logan laughed, and prayed to God Jaxon didn’t hear. 

    xxx 

    Logan didn’t see Jaxon again until dinner. Roman and Remus were play-fighting in the kitchen, yelling over the boiling of a stew. Patton and Virgil were watching a horror movie on the couch, Janus sat at their feet. Virgil kept kicking him. 

    Jaxon came down the stairs as Logan asked to help with dinner. Remus quickly took Logan under his arm. 

    “Yeah! Stir this for me. Hey, Jaxon. I’ve got Logan helping me here.” 

    “I missed you at lunch today,” Logan said over his shoulder. “Are you okay? Feeling sick?” 

    “A little,” he mumbled. “Will you eat with me?” 

    Logan melted. “Of course. Remus, is this safe for him?” 

    Remus grabbed Logan’s shoulder. Logan furrowed his eyebrows as they locked eyes. 

    “Yes.” Remus tapped something on the counter. “Janus and Roman helped me.” 

    Logan glanced down. 

    Peanut powder. 

    He swallowed. 

    “It’s perfectly safe for Jaxon.” 

    Blood rushed through Logan’s ears. 

    “No, actually.” Logan sucked in a shuddering breath. “No, I want to make him something myself.” 

    Remus’ shoulders slumped. “I understand. I guess.” 

    “But…” Logan grabbed his hand. “You can make it again if I ask?” 

    Roman set a hand on Logan’s lightly purpled shoulder. “We absolutely can.” 

    Logan got to work making Jaxon grilled cheese sandwiches, and they ate in the living room with everyone else. Jaxon kept wrinkling his nose and pursing his lips like he was rubbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 

    “Everything okay, Jax?” Patton asked sweetly. 

    “There’s no peanuts in that, right? Something about the smell is setting me off.” 

    “Nope.” Janus laid his head in Remus’ lap. “We know about your allergy, Jaxon. We’re careful.” 

    xxx 

    That night, Logan stayed up late with Jaxon watching movies. Logan fell asleep cuddled against Jaxon’s chest and woke up the next morning snuggled with him in bed. 

    He hauled himself out of bed, heavy with exhaustion, as the smoke alarm screamed. Janus kissed Remus on the cheek before leaving for their coffees. Remus cracked another egg in the pan. Roman sang Disney at the top of his lungs as he got ready in the bathroom, Virgil pounding on the door demanding that he needed to piss. Patton snapped that there’s another bathroom upstairs and that if those two didn’t stop fighting he’d lose his mind. 

    Logan found a path in the kitchen to grab the stuff for French toast. He pushed aside Remus’ used dishes and ingredients to set his own down. 

    “How are you feeling?” Remus asked as Logan whisked. “You know, about the decision you made.” 

    “Good,” he admitted. “I think it was the right call.” 

    Remus set the spatula down hard. “So how else do you wanna proceed?” 

    Logan’s whisks slowed. “I… I don’t know. Last time I talked about maybe taking a break, he—” 

    “Hey, Jaxon!” Patton greeted cheerfully. 

    Logan snapped his mouth shut. 

    “Morning, handsome.” Jaxon kissed the back of Logan’s neck. 

    He smiled as Jaxon poured them both juice. “It was the right decision.”

    xxx 

    “Logan!” Jaxon bounded down the stairs. “When are you stopping for lunch?” 

    “Um…” Logan shifted in his seat. “I had lunch.” 

    Jaxon stopped. “What?” 

    “It was quick.” Logan pushed back in the chair to face Jaxon. “Just a snack, really. Then I got right back to work.” 

    “Why would you eat without me? I knew it, you are mad at me. We always have lunch together.” 

    “I know, I’m sorry—”

    “If you know, why did you eat without me? What did I even do?”

    “You didn’t do anything!” 

    “But you’re mad at me.” 

    “I’m not mad at you!”

    “THEN WHY WOULD YOU EAT WITHOUT ME?”

    Logan flinched.��

    Jaxon grabbed his wrist and hauled him to his feet. “Don’t be a baby! Just tell me!” 

    He slammed Logan into the wall just as Janus’ door opened. Logan’s head bounced off the paint, his eye erupting in pain. 

    “Get off,” Janus snapped. 

    “This is none of your business! Go back to work!” 

    Janus pulled his phone out of his pocket. He dialed three numbers. 

    “Put the phone down!” 

    “I need someone here right away, my roommate—”

    Jaxon leapt ten steps back. Logan crumpled in on himself, pressed against the wall where Jaxon left him. 

    “I think he’s calming down now,” Janus said into the phone. He raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I would like you to remain on the line.” 

    Jaxon grabbed his wallet and keys, and stormed out. The door slammed and Logan flinched. 

    “He’s gone now. Thank you for your help. Let me ask.” He pressed the phone to his shirt. “Do you want to press charges? Do you want the police to come?” 

    Logan shook his head, eyes watering. “I want to make dinner.” 

    xxx 

    “That again?” Jaxon asked, peering over Logan’s shoulder. 

    Logan stirred the thick broth. “You didn’t get to try it. It’s good.” 

    Jaxon shrugged. “Is your eye okay?”

    “It’ll heal.” 

    He left. Logan grabbed the peanut powder and dumped in a generous amount, then left it to boil and cook down. 

    Everyone stared at Jaxon as they ate. Logan finished his bowl and grabbed seconds. Pale blotches appeared on Jaxon’s face. His lips swelled. 

    “Are you sure this doesn’t have peanuts?” He asked nervously. “I don’t feel great.” 

    “My eye hurts,” Logan announced. 

    “I have some medicine for it.” Remus kissed Logan’s cheek. “I’ll be right back.” 

    Jaxon glared. “Kiss your own boyfriend!” 

    By the time Remus came back, Jaxon’s throat was swelling shut. “Drive me to a hospital,” he demanded in a hoarse voice. 

    Patton knelt between Logan’s legs and applied the cream Remus bought to Logan’s browbone and the top of his cheekbone. 

    “Dinner was good,” Virgil said. “Are you gonna finish yours, Jax?” 

    He glared and stumbled for the door. “What the hell is this?” 

    Virgil shrugged and grabbed Jaxon’s bowl, downing the rest. Roman leaned against the door with his arms crossed. Jaxon threw a punch, but Roman easily ducked against Jaxon’s weak, wobbling frame. 

    “Oh, God, are you okay?” Patton gasped. “Call an ambulance!” 

    Jaxon collapsed to his knees as his body convulsed. His hands dug into the carpet. He vomited, elbows and knees locking. 

    “Shit, did we add peanut?” Roman asked. “Old habits.” 

    “What’s the number again?” Remus stared at his phone in confusion. 

    “What’s… wrong… with you… all…” Jaxon gasped through his throw up. 

    “911, I think,” Logan mumbled. “Are you okay, love?” 

    “I need someone here right away. My roommate is having an allergic reaction. He was eating alone, we didn’t catch it very fast— yes. Okay, I understand. Mhm.” He gave them the address then hung up. 

    Janus, Remus, and Roman turned on the T.V. Logan and Patton got to work cleaning up after dinner. Virgil stared Jaxon down. 

    He was dead before the paramedics arrived. 

    xxx 

    The smoke alarm blared. Logan hauled himself out of the warm bed and came out of Janus and Remus’ room. 

    “Slept long enough,” Janus said, wrapping his arms around Logan’s waist. 

    Logan leaned his head on Janus’ shoulder. “Coffee?” 

    “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

    “Breakfast is almost ready!” Remus called. “Hurry up!” 

    “I HAVE TO PISS, ROMAN!” 

    “THERE ARE TWO BATHROOMS!” 

    Logan got into the car with Janus. Janus pulled out of the driveway and headed towards the nearest coffee shop. 

    “How are you feeling?” Janus asked, reaching over and taking his hand. 

    “Hungry.” 

[ushiwakaout]

Things I believe Oikawa Tooru (pro brazilian volleyball player) would say if you lived together (from the moment you wake up, to the moment you fall asleep).

for my sake, i’m gonna use mexican spanish bc i KNOW there’s such a big difference when speaking portugués - i’ll translate it anyway.

you live in brazil w oikawa too, and you do pottery

warnings: slight nsfw and major spoiler warning for timeskip

“Hey, lazy butt. Rise and shine.” (4:00 am)

you: “Oikawa, deja me en paz (leave me in peace).”

“No me hables así, soy tu novio. (Don’t talk to me like that, i’m you’re boyfriend).”

“I’m gonna go on a run, i’ll be back.”

“Beso(kiss).”

“Make me some breakfast before i come back, will ya?”

“Shoyos probably gonna stop by so make extra! love you, bye!” (4:30 am)

“We’re back! And i’m brought shoyo, like i said i would!” (6:45 am)

“You’re lucky they’re willing to cook this morning, tiene una manó (they’ve got a hand(for cooking)).”

*taps your ass when passing by you in the kitchen*

“Thank you for the meal.” *forehead kiss*

“Gah! I’m stuffed! Thank you baby.” (7:30 am)

“We’ve got practice in the afternoon, you wanna come or?”

“What do you mean you can’t.”

“Oh, right you have projects you need to deliver... Good luck with that then.”

*tooru very much gets pouty when you can’t go to his practice bc he likes seeing you sunbathe*

*once hinata says thanks for breakfast and dips, oikawa will just watch you finish up your projects*

“You need help filling up the kiln?” (8:30 am)

“Do you need help glazing?”

“What about this one? Do i put it in the kiln?”

“Oye! Te estoy hablando! (Hey! I’m taking to you!)”

“Give me a kiss before you get a muddy and dirty.”

“Can we recreate that one scene from dirty dancing?”

“What? I watch american movies too you know!”

*although you say no, Oikawa will 100% sit behind you to reach his hands under your shirt, kiss the back of your neck, maybe tuck your hair out of the way so he can leave marks*

*you can’t tell me that this mother fucker hasn’t made you sit on his cock while you do pottery... please god. It will get so messy because he picks up your lap enough for him to fuck you so slowly*

“You got some on your face, come here.”

“Don’t get too messy”

*loves seeing you covered in pottery clay tho bc he knows you work with blood sweat and tears the way he does with volleyball*

“I’m gonna go ahead and get ready for practice.” (11:00 am)

“I gotta leave at 12, you sure you can’t come?”

“Be ready by the time i get back, we’re going on a date.”

“If you’re not ready i’ll go on the date by myself.”

“Do you know where i put my sunglasses?”

“Can i steal your sun cap, i can’t seem to find mine.”

“I’m gonna head out now, come give me a kiss.”

“Give me another one.”

“I won’t be late amor (love), just give me some sugar.”

“Hey get you’re clay hands off me.”

“I’ll be back around 4, i’ll let you know if i’m gonna be late.” (11:40 am)

*you smacked his ass on the way out and he didn’t even bother to check the fat hand mark on his shorts*

*over the phone “Hey amor (love) i’m gonna be running late okay?” (3:50 pm)

*still over the phone* “Don’t be mad, kay? I’ll be home as quick as i can. Besos (kisses), love you too.”

“IM HOME! I’ll shower and we’ll get going.” (4:30 pm)

*smacks your ass* “You look good.”

“Give me a kiss.”

“What do you mean no?”

“Oh come on, you like it when i’m sweaty~”

“EY! No me pegues! (Hey! Don’t hit me!).”

“Did you buy me more leave in conditioner?”

“Bring me towel!”

“No i genuinely forgot it this time, please hand it over i’m getting cold.”

“Gracias amor~ (Thanks love)”

“okay okay, i’m ready let’s go!” (5:00 pm)

“Hold my hand.”

“No te passes, dame tu mano. (Don’t cross the line, give me your hand).”

“Do you want food? I’m hungry- did you eat lunch? Okay good, i know you forget sometimes.”

“Let’s go get some acorda de mariscos” (açorda de mariscos is a seafood bread stew)

*will get recognized in public once and a while bc beach volleyball is a pretty big sport in portugal from what i know, correct me if i’m wrong, i’m mexican/american*

*will speak perfect portuguese to his fans, they’re always surprised*

*always has to show his residency card to prove that he’s of age to drink*

“They always mistake me as a minor, it’s annoying.” (5:30 pm)

“It’s not funny, can a man not get a paloma (a paloma is just a type of cocktail with tequilita and a type of grapefruit juice/soda) in peace?”

“Should i grow a beard? Why not? I think i’d look good.”

“A baby a staring at me, should i scare it?”

“Ow! I’m kidding, i’m kidding.”

“I want a baby, give me a baby.”

“What do you mean i’m enough? I don’t think that’s a compliment.”

“If i propose right now, will you give me a baby?”

“You’re such a bore.” 😤

“Let’s go to a club , i wanna dance.” (7:00 pm)

*you can’t tell me oikawa doesn’t know how to dance like a god*

“Stop being a prude and get closers, it’s not like we haven’t been closer.” (7:30 pm)

“Stop blushing...”

*when oikawa dances, his hands are roaming everywhere youre body*

“I’m gonna get another drink. You want anything?”

*you sit by your lonesome, and obviously someone has to hit on you because oikawa isn’t around*

“Hey- piss off, they said they aren’t interested and they are taken, by yours truly... So how about you run along now.”

*if oikawa wasn’t so humble about you he would probably beat the shit out of someone*

“Finish up your drink and we’ll head somewhere else.” (9:00 pm)

*he definitely club/bar hops*

*probably will get drunk at the third or fourth club*

“Baby~ Come give me a kiss.”

“Honey~ do you love me?”

“Yeah? give me a kiss.”

*will 100% make out with you in the club. one hand gripped at the back of your neck so you don’t push away*

*quicky in the club bathroom bc he’s not willing to wait, hand over your mouth and a bites your shoulder bc he’s as loud as you are*

“Let’s go home yeah?” (11:00 pm)

“Let’s take a shower together~”

*fucking in the bathroom*

*if you couldn’t tell, he’s horny when drunk*

“Oh! Iwa-chan is calling”

*both of you lay in bet together while he’s on the phone with iwaizumi*

“He wants to talk to you.”

“She said she doesn’t want to.”

*will make you lay on his chest while he just pets your hair*

*sees that your asleep and takes pictures of you while sleeping*

“Yeah she’s asleep now..”

“No, I haven’t found the right ring yet.”

“I’m not getting old iwa-chan! i’m getting younger by the minute.”

“It’s not like they won’t say no... right.”

“Hey! don’t make fun on me- when you meet the right one, you’ll know how i’ll feel.”

“Shh- go back to sleep baby, i’ll go to sleep in a minute.” (12:00 am)

*kisses you’re forehead*

extras:

“Hey honey, am i getting fat?”

“Look in the mirror, i see someone beautiful and then you- the second most beautiful.”

“Stop telling Shōyō that i like getting my blackheads popped!”

“Hey- schedule me a manicure will you?”

“Take a picture with me and shōyō and then send it to tobio-chan.”

“Wax my brows, and do it right this time!”

“Hey, do my makeup- why? Because i wanna look better than you.”

“Woah woah woah, who said you can take pictures of me.”

“Delete it, i look ugly- WHAT DO YOU MEAN THATS THE POINT! YOURE SUPPOSED TO TELL ME IM PRETTY”

*fiddles with your fingers in public*

*will propose to you when he wins against msby bc he just wants to publicly address that he’s the best and has the best*

[uriagii]

Thomastair Youtube AU

Hello! So I started writing a thomastair youtube au, and i need to put it out into the world, so here you go. I intend to write more. 

part 2, part 3

1.4k word count, fluffy boyfriend things, some language 1: Get to Know Us!

Two men, one tall and pale, one short and tanned, sat side by side in front of a brown couch in a cozy looking living room

“Hey guys! I’m Thomas,” said the taller.

“And I’m Alastair,” 

“And today we’re going to be doing a little Q&A!” Thomas said excitedly

The shorter of the two--Alastair--hugged a pillow to his chest, while Thomas examined the screen of his phone.

“Okay, let’s get started. Question number one,” Thomas said, “When and where did you first meet?”

Alastair adjusted his seating a bit as he started speaking, “Ah, we actually met in secondary school. Thomas and I are the same age, but Thomas was held back one year because he had a bad case of pneumonia and missed a bunch of school.” 

“Yes, but actually my friends and Alastair didn’t get along very well--” 

“Not even a little bit.” Alastair interrupted quietly.

“--And because of that the two of us didn’t really properly get to know each other until several years later.”

“Next question.” Alastair took the phone from Thomas’s hand and read, “When was your first date?”

Both men paused, looked at each other and furrowed their brows in confusion. 

They looked back to the camera and said in unison, “It depends.” 

“Officially, it was about a year ago,” Thomas began, “But we sort of had an accidental weekend date in Paris about two years ago.”

“Yes, we were both in Paris alone, and we ran into each other outside of the Louvre, and we just kind of spent the next few days together exploring Paris.” Alastair finished. “You read the next one, Tom.”

“Okay,” Thomas read. “How long have we been together?”

“About a year, since our first official date.” Alastair responded. Thomas nodded along in silent agreement.

“That was easy,” Alastair muttered while he grabbed the phone. “Moving on, what is your favorite feature of your significant other?”

“Everything.” Thomas said immediately.

“No, babe, you gotta pick something,” Alastair chuckled.

“Just one? How am I supposed to do that? You’re immaculate.” Thomas whined

Alastair just laughed and looked at Thomas expectantly.

“Hmm, fine. Probably…” Thomas looked up in thought, before finally answering, “Your elegance. You’re built so delicately, yet so powerfully.” 

Alastair smiled. “Oka--”

“And your hair.”

“Oka--”

“And your eyes.”

“Okay!” Alastair smiled and rolled his eyes affectionately. “Next one,”

“Wait, you’re not going to answer?” Thomas turned his body toward Alastair in protest.

“Nope.” Alastair looked at him smugly.

“You have to! That’s the law according to the rules.”

“Fine. Your ass.” Alastair deadpanned.

Thomas’s jaw dropped, and he spluttered while Alastair laughed. “You-- but-- I-- pick something else!”

Alastair only laughed harder.

“Alastair! Pick something else!” Thomas whined.

“Alright alright,” Alastair’s chuckles died out and he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “I like your shoulders. They’re fucking huge.”

“Oh my God,” Thomas muttered as he took the phone from Alastair to read the next question. “What is your biggest pet peeve?” Thomas asked quickly, then said “Oh here we go.”

“Let me tell you,” Alastair emphasized his words by putting both his hands down onto the coffee table in front of them, then began listing; “When people don’t know the words to a song but they still try to sing along,” He counted off one of his fingers. “Stupid people.” Another finger. “Homophobes. When someone is erasing something and they miss a spot, slow walkers who take up the entire sidewalk, people who sneeze into their hands, people who clap when a plane lands or at the end of a movie, people who use the word ‘literally’ when they’re not being literal--”

“Okay, wow. That’s a lot of things.” Thomas’s eyes were wide.

“People do lots of stupid things.” Alastair said matter-of-factly.

“Okay, well my biggest one is probably people who say ‘no offense, but’ right before they say something they know is offensive, as if it will make it less offensive.”

“Ooh, good one,” Alastair puts his finger to his mouth in a thinking gesture.

“I think we should move on before you get going again, love” Thomas suggested, holding the phone out. “How about you read the next question?”

Alastair sighed, but took the phone from Thomas’s waiting hand. He read the question and smiled wickedly before saying, “Who said ‘I love you’ first?

Thomas took the pillow Alastair had been holding, set it down on his lap, and put his face in it.

“Tell the story, babe.” Alastair teased, nudging Thomas. Thomas’s answering groan was muffled by the pillow.

“Come on, it’s a cute story Tom.” Alastair encouraged while snickering.

“No, it’s embarrassing.” When Thomas picked his head up, his face was bright red.

“It’s endearing, tell the story.” Alastair insisted.

Thomas closed his eyes, “Oh, God. Okay.” He began, “So we were on a date at this amusement park, and all day I was trying to figure out how I was gonna tell Alastair that I loved him, and I was understandably nervous, so I was kind of a wreck all day.” Alastair smiled at Thomas affectionately as he spoke, as if he were reminiscing on the moment. Thomas studiously avoided eye contact with both Alastair and the camera. “It was getting close to closing time, and I still hadn’t said it, so I started panicking, and decided it was now or never.” Thomas sighed before continuing.

  “Well, we were walking past this dunk tank right near the exit, so I stopped, I turned to Alastair and I said ‘Hey, I love you’ and immediately some little twelve-year-old wanker ran by me, knocked me off balance, and pushed me into the dunk tank!” He exclaimed. “I mean, why do they even make dunk tanks that low to the ground?!” 

 Thomas had been getting gradually more worked up as he told the story, and was practically seething at the thought of this child ruining his moment. Alastair however, was cracking up. 

“I’m glad my public humiliation is so entertaining to you.” Thomas said, unamused as Alastair wiped a tear from his cheek. 

“It was perfect,” Alastair said seriously, before grinning. “Very on-brand.”

“Oh, bugger off.” Thomas gently shoved Alastair’s shoulder, but smiled despite his embarrassment. 

“And of course after helping him out and drying him off while he stewed in his awkwardness, I told him I loved him too. And he smiled the biggest smile. So it really was perfect.” Alastair told the camera.

Thomas’s face was still visibly red, but he rolled his eyes and smiled as he took the phone to read the next question.

“What’s your dream vacation destination?” Thomas read.

“Ooh, we have lots of these.” Alastair said excitedly, bouncing a little in place on the floor. “Namely, we both want to visit Greece. Athens, Crete, Mykonos, all the places.”

Thomas had somewhat recovered from his embarrassment, and nodded his agreement. “It’s a lovely country from the pictures, and we think it would be a fascinating place to explore.”

“Plus the food.” Alastair added. 

“Yes, can't forget that.” Thomas agreed. “Hopefully within the next few years we’ll be able to go.”

“How many more questions are left?” Alastair asked.

“Just one,” Thomas responded, displaying the screen of the phone to his boyfriend. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Alastair read the question and smiled before saying out loud, “What are you most passionate about?”

The two looked at each other for a long moment before Alastair looked back to the camera and responded.

“Music. I love being able to express myself without needing to search the obscure sides of the dictionary for proper terms.” Alastair said. “You, Thomas?”

“You.” He said softly, looking into Alastair’s brown eyes. “Taking care of you, being the best I can be for me and for you.”

Alastair scoffed, but blushed and looked away from Thomas’s smile and loving gaze. Thomas’s smile turned devious.

“And your ass.”

“Oh my God, Thomas.” 

Comments

>cordeliacarstairs: tom, alastair this is adorable

3,321 likes, 102 dislikes

>lucie the reader: can confirm thomas does, in fact, have huge shoulders. 

4,039 likes, 32 dislikes

>lightwoodfanclub replying to @lucie the reader: OMG DYING

>thomastair4eva: this is the cutest thing i’ve ever seen omg

1,387 likes, 14 dislikes

>fangorl117289: let me just *sobs*

1,150 likes, 26 dislikes

>carstairssiblings: they’re so sassy omg “your ass” PF

973 likes, 12 dislikes

[zet-sway]

@the-wip-project day 35:

I don't know what today's question is but I gotta write a wall of text about what happened last night because holy shit

I was on the verge of falling asleep and, like I usually do, I decided to hunt for some spicy fanfics to read on my phone. I found one.

All my posts are long but this one is real fucking long. CW for touching on dub-con and injury mentioned in the type of context it probably shouldn't be.

It's time for me to admit that not only am I a oneshot writer, I'm also a oneshot reader. I am drawn to short fanfics. If I click on a chaptered fic, it's (usually) because it's rated E for smut and I'll go in with every intention of skimming it for the spicy bits. I'm not proud of this. I've avoided saying this for years because I don't want to disappoint people who work hard on their very long and well thought out chaptered stories. I have a short attention span, and I know what I want.

But anyway, last night I clicked on a fic with 5 chapters and some amount of words, around 30k? Long, by my standards, but I was tired and I just wanted something to read while I dozed off.

This particular fic hooked me in, though. I still skimmed it, but the writing was so unique in a way that made me writhe with writer's envy and admiration. Whoever wrote this had their own language - nothing borrowed - their own vision.

I guess I should tell the good people who read my posts (ya'll, seriously, thank you) that the fic in topic is called Fault Lines by Recidiva on AO3. I would link to it but uhhhh I may be using my work PC for "extracurricular purposes" right this moment ^^; so maybe when I get home I'll remember to add it.

I skimmed it - like I said above - for the spicy parts. It generally follows the plot of Bioware's canon. Thane begins as possessive and manipulative, likely uncomfortably close to dub-con for a lot of people. He kisses her and knows full well that his kiss will make her willing but intoxicated, and how he will use that to fulfil himself. But as the story progresses, he falls in love. Their relationship is what I'll call "edgy." Both of them are renegades. There's a scene where they get down in the shuttle after a fight and they're both still injured and it borders on downright unrealistic but fuck it, it's fanfic and I bought it. However their relationship develops a certain heart-wrenching tenderness. She asks him what Siha means over and over again, and eventually tells him she thinks "bitch" when he says it. But in that moment they have a playful banter, he knows full well she's probably already looked it up on the extranet, and they fall into bed together. The smut is mind-boggling.

By the time it gets to Shepard's arrest, he's taken up a place on Earth and visits her, breaks into her house arrest. There's a scene where they see each other for the first time in a while, she tells him how much she's missed his mouth and how it's not right how bad she wants him, and wants him bad enough to smother him with affection. She says something to the effect of "if you're looking to die, I'd volunteer to be the cause," implying that her lust is powerful enough to endanger his life. And it was at this moment I realized I fucked up.

It's established that I live in my own headcanon and I'm not burdened with considering the end of Thane's life as part of my fics. And the suspension of disbelief was such that I forgot he doesn't make it. So at this moment in the fic, chapter 4 out of 5, I realized "Oh shit this isn't going to have a happy ending." I skipped to the end right away, I wanted to confirm my fears.

In their final exchange, she asks him to lie to her - something that's repeated in other chapters of the story. I forget what he says, I was reading desperately, but he asks her in return to tell him something true. She kisses him and tells him she loves him, and he breathes his last breath with the lingering tingle of their kiss to carry him to the other side.

I was so entrenched in the depth of their relationship up to that point. The level of fathomless love the author conveyed, unlike anything I've ever managed to write before, but more realistic to my own understanding of love as I've experienced it. Not because they're renegades, but just the selflessness with which they feel, communicate, banter, and make love.

When I read that last paragraph, something inside me broke. That sounds dramatic but that's honestly how I would describe it. It felt like waking up from a night terror, when you bolt up in bed from a dream so bad you immediately get up even if it's 4am because nothing feels real and you're so terrified you have to get up and do something - literally anything to take your mind off it, to ease you back into reality. I put my phone down and stared into the darkness of my bedroom and told myself "it's just a fanfic, no need to get upset." And then I started to cry and I didn't stop for 30 minutes.

My husband was downstairs watching Bohemian Rhapsody and I went down there and wrapped myself around him so tight and cried. Bless this man, from the bottom of my heart - bless him - for his unfathomable kindness. I felt like a fucking fool because I was crying over fanfiction but he paused his movie and just listened while I tried to articulate how it wasn't exactly about the character death, or the characters at all, it was just the writing and how it wormed into my brain so convincingly. I felt the loss like it was my own loss. I am terrified of losing my husband. So many feelings coalesced and I realized one day I may be in that situation, kissing the man I love goodbye for the last time, never to hold him again. I'm at work right now and I'm tearing up because it's so hard.

I tip my hat to the author, but I genuinely wished I hadn't read that fanfic. And isn't it kind of funny after that grandstand I took yesterday about not wanting to write the pain of loss and grief, that I ended up reading it instead and probably fucking myself up just as badly, if not worse, than if I had tried to write it myself?

It gets worse, too. Because it got me thinking about my own writing, and how I could never hope to achieve what that author did. So I sat there crying out my painfeelings while simultaneously feeling like a shit writer and like nothing I put out matters. I got up from the couch, sat down at my PC and picked up where I left off in the Omega DLC in ME3 because video games are great for taking the mind off things. It didn't exactly help with the intensity I'd hoped for, but I managed to fall asleep, by 3am.

Fast forward to this morning. I dragged my sorry ass out of bed 4 hours later and drove to work. By some fucking miracle, no one is here right now except our field director. And I'm stewing in how this one fic really fucked me up bad, reconsidering everything. I feel like I've been put in my place.

So what changed?

Yesterday I posted about how I'm struggling to write a plotline. I know what happens, but I'm not interested in the little bits that tie it together. I want to write the romance. I think there's a way to write the plot and the romance at the same time, but it's damn hard.

I started doing this because I wanted to grow my skills as a writer, and I knew it might be more than I could chew. I'm at that moment now where I'm about ready to give up.

Even if I felt like a shit writer last night (and still kinda do this morning), I know that the stuff I've put out has value. We can't all write these epically tragic smut-romance-renegades-to-lovers tales, we'd all be sad all the damn time. There's a time and a place and - I would argue - even a need for lighterhearted fic out there. There are really no rules. I'm confident in what I know how to do.

But the plot. Fuck it, man. I think maybe I'm trying too hard to be something I'm not. I'm trying really hard to write like other people. I may have mentioned before that I saw a post about how many artists spend their time pining for the skills of others, thinking "wow, when I can draw like that, I'll have made it as an artist." That same post cautioned against this, basically saying you already have your own unique style, it's just harder to see through the lens of your own eyeballs. It's fine to challenge yourself but try to acknowledge what you do that sets you apart already. I feel like I have that something - maybe not to the extent that I wish, but I have something.

So what's the point of the plot? Why do I need to tell my readers how I cured Keprals? I'm asking myself important questions here. I like to think I've come up with ideas that no one else has, but as I said above, I don't read a lot of chaptered fics. I very well may have come to the same ideas as other writers and I'm not even aware of it. I don't know if my ideas are unique but I still arrived at them all by myself.

The challenge here - the thing I'm struggling so much with - is how to put them together with the same elegance of my fellow writers. I'm looking at you, shrios fam (yeah I'm calling you that, yall know who you are). I know I can write words, but it's like I have a bunch of pieces from completely different jigsaw puzzles and I'm struggling to make a new picture out of them. I struggle with the transitions between them.

The point here is I have to find my own way. And I have to stop taking myself so seriously. In fact this level of "seriousness" is one of the things that got me into so much angst over World of Warcraft over the last two years. At least I know how to recognize it.

I have to find my own way. I have my own things that are worth sharing. The author I read last night had a language all their own, and I have a language all my own too. Their wordplay was actually more choppy than I would ever write. I've talked before about how I'm scared of starting too many sentences with pronouns, how I maybe write too many run-on sentences, whatever. This author did that with reckless abandon. It worked for them. So if they can make that shit work, I can make my own shit work.

I have to find my own way.

My most current WIP is Thane and Shepard's first time. I've been working on it pretty nonchalantly because I hadn't intended to publish it until I built up to it. It takes place further into my timeline, and it would probably ruin the point of a slow burn if I put it out there now. There are some really memorably moments in this WIP, and there are other moments that need to be smoothed over as well. I never knew what I'd really imagined for their first time but I think I've mostly developed something that's unique in its own right, and I think will be fun for people to read.

I'm just so fucking torn over what to do with it. I feel guilty for working on it. I should be writing "other shit" leading up to it but I don't fucking want to. I actually wrote probably 2-3k words this weekend, which is a pretty staggering amount by my standards. Some of it was for this smutty WIP and some was for something I just threw together, Thane observing Shepard on Horizon and the emotional toll it takes on her. He's seeing her humanity. I don't know if it's worth it to continue but I wrote a lot of it and the words are more precise than usual for a draft, I don't know. I have so much fucking insecurity. Fuck dude. I want to write this longfic, but I don't want to write it. I want to skim to the spicy bits like I always do.

I am wracked with insecurity, of my own making. I know what I can do but I feel compelled to see this idea through. Somehow I have to find my own way.

TLDR I feel like if I don't publish something soon I'm going to burst and I don't even know what the fuck to work on first and fjslfjsojoiejrj

I would be really down for, like, a bunch of hugs and a bowl of ice cream shared over memes and fanservice.

[neon-junkie]

Duality - Chpt.4

Summary: There’s a handful of things you hate, like the men who continue to pester you at the Saloon after you’ve told them no, or the way strangers look at you when you decide to wear pants. But the one thing you hate that most is Micah Bell. But if you hate him so much, then why are you allowing him to wrap his hand around your neck as he grinds his crotch down against yours? Is he using you? or are you using him?

Pairing: Micah Bell x f!Reader

Word Count: lots idk its multi-chapter

Rating: NSFW

[First chapter] [next chapter not posted yet]

It's funny how Micah somehow guessed the perfect size for your new lingerie. Maybe he's held you one too many times, making a mental note of how each part of your body feels in his hands. You can picture that vividly, Micah explaining to the tailor that your breast size is "this big," as he holds his hands out in a cupping motion. You pray he hasn't actually done that, but this is Micah Bell, after all. You pull on the laces of your new corset, fastening yourself up, and then shrug a pretty yet simple dress on. Today seems pleasant, well, it looked pleasant when you peered through your tent flaps this morning, groggy and half-asleep. There's nothing wrong with being a little vain, and you enjoy putting extra effort into your appearance today, fitting in your new lingerie like a glove, and dolling yourself up to... do chores... At least you're doing your chores in style!

The effort in your appearance hasn't gone unnoticed, as many camp members throw compliments your way, along with curious pairs of eyes that trail over your figure for a few moments too long, not that you mind. The camp women are particularly kind, not that they aren't to begin with, fussing and gushing over how pretty you look. Maybe this is what you needed? a day to doll yourself up and soak up all the compliments you receive? and maybe you'll do it more often, seeing as you're feeling rather wonderful today. But all good things must come to an end... you find yourself at Pearson's wagon, chopping vegetables for tonight's supper, sliding another batch off your chopping board straight into the stew pot. It's a boring job, but it beats scrubbing laundry for hours on end, constantly feeling defeated as everybody's clothes are so stained that it's impossible to get them clean. As always, you're minding your own business, your head dipped down, focusing on the task at hand. Of course, you don't notice your partner approaching, but your ears perk up as he lets out a long whistle. "My, oh my," Micah comments. "I didn't realize it was my birthday, but I appreciate you dressin' up for such a special occasion," Micah flirts as he trails over, leaning his weight against the table. He's eyeing you up and down like a piece of meat, and you notice the way he licks his lips. "Mister Bell," you monotonously greet him, "bold of you to assume I dress for anybody but myself," you jab back. Micah lets out a long and irritating laugh, drawn out for longer than necessary. He peers over his shoulder, checking to see if anybody is nearby, before scooting a little closer to speak directly to you. "Guess you are dressin' for me when you're wearin' the lingerie I brought you," he grins. You double-check your surroundings, and once you're happy with how empty the coast is, you lean across the table, speaking under your breath. "It's a replacement, considering you ruined my last set," you remind him, shaking your head as you speak. Yet again, Micah chuckles. "And I'll ruin this set too," he smirks, and you unfortunately know that's a promise. "And then you'll have to buy another replacement," you tut. "That's fine by me. I ain't short on cash, sweetheart. I'll buy and ruin as many as I like." "I ain't your sweetheart, I told you that last night," you grumble under your breath. You straighten your back, and speak slightly above your normal tone of voice, "now if you'll excuse me, Mister Bell, I'm quite busy here," you brush him off, returning to chopping vegetables. "Oh, I do apologise for taking up your precious time, darlin'," Micah sarcastically replies, raising his hands innocently as he moves his weight off the table. "I'll leave you to it," he says with a soft laugh, then turns heel and wanders back through camp, probably debating which victim to pester next. Your brows furrow as you watch him leave, grumbling to yourself. He knows damn well that neither of you are meant to bring your business into camp, and he especially knows that you're not meant to openly talk about it. Somebody could be lurking nearby, somebody could be on the other side of the wagon, accidentally stumbling upon this juicy piece of information. The camp loves gossip, and something like that would spread like a wildfire. You hate how vividly you can picture it, the faces of everybody scowling your way as they find out that you're sleeping with a pest that you claim to hate. You've had one too many fights with Micah, both inside and outside of camp; imagine how hypocritical people would find you if they suddenly found out that you enjoy his company when nobody else is around. Honestly, what else did you expect? Micah rarely ever keeps his word, and you're surprised that he did when he said he'd buy you replacement lingerie. Oh well, that conversation is done now, and you'll have to keep on your toes around camp, just in case Micah decides to try and pull something stupid on you.

  By the time evening rolls around, your body is exhausted. You've fastened your corset a little too tight this morning, although at the time it felt comfortable. After slipping into something loose and cosy, you start your final chore for today - guard duty. Lenny makes a passing comment about how tonight is quiet and boring, as always, and wishes you luck as he hands you the rifle.

Lenny was right, this is boring. You're currently leaning against a tree on the outskirts of camp, the rifle gripped loosely in your hands; you can feel yourself nodding off, your head dipping and your eyes falling shut. Unlike others, you try to take your jobs seriously, so you push your weight off the tree, doing another lap of the camp in an attempt to wake yourself up.

As you pass by a lantern, you take out your pocket watch, checking how long you have left before you can finally crawl into bed. It's 2am, one hour to go. You make your way down one of the paths leading into camp, eventually dipping off into the trees once you meet the entrance; you never normally trail this far from camp, but why not shake things up a bit?

"Fancy meetin' you out here," Micah comments out of nowhere, making you jump out of your skin, almost dropping your rifle.

"Shit, Micah!" you snap at him, "why you gotta scare me like that?"

"Ain't you on guard duty? you ain't doin' a very good job," he snickers, leaning his weight against a nearby tree, his hands resting on the waistband of his pants. Usually, Micah would rest his hands on his gun belt, but he's stripped of most clothing tonight, wandering around in his simple pants, shirt, and hat.

"I must be more tired than I thought, I'm surprised I didn't notice a buffoon approaching me," you jab back, rolling your eyes at his comment. No doubt, Micah has been stalking you for some time, waiting for the right moment to give you a sudden wakeup call.

"Oh, doll, you poor thing. You want me to go and warm your bed up for you?" Micah taunts, making you grip your rifle tighter. He lets out a chuckle, noticing how angry you look, even through the darkness of the trees.

"What is it with you?" you snap. "Did you really come out here just to pester me?!"

"Mhm," Micah agrees with a nod. He shifts his weight off the tree, taking a few steps over to you, bridging the gap. Before you can swat him away, his hand is pulling at your neckline, peering down your blouse. "Why ain't you wearing the lingerie that I brought you?" he asks, pouting dramatically.

"Off," you command, slapping his hand away. Micah begins to laugh, and without thinking, you slap him across the face, cutting his laughter short.

"Oooh," Micah sighs, giving his cheek a rub. "Not very friendly tonight, are we?"

"I ain't very friendly to anybody who puts their dirty paws on me," you grunt, and turn heel, attempting to walk away. Micah reaches out to take a hold of your wrist, his grip tightening when you try to shake him off. "Doll, I only came out here to let off some steam with you."

"You really think I'm gonna fuck you after that?"

"Yep."

You let out a long, defeated sigh. There are two options presented to you: you can either turn down Micah and let the next hour slowly trail by, bored with nothing to do, or you can enjoy his unwelcomed company, tiring yourself out before bed.

"Alright, but let's make this quick," you agree, pulling your wrist free from Micah's grasp.

There's an awkward pause, both of you staring at each other, as if you've both suddenly forgotten how to initiate sex. Micah then waves his hands about, and orders you to bend over against a nearby tree. "We ain't supposed to do this in camp, that was part of the agreement," you comment.

"This ain't in camp, it's in a forest, sweetheart," Micah corrects you. Well, he's not exactly wrong...

You roll your eyes and let out a huff, but prop your rifle up against a tree. Your skirts are bunched up to your hips, reaching beneath them to pull your undergarments down, letting them settle around your thighs; you then turn to question why Micah is stood there awkwardly.

"I was just enjoying the show," Micah replies with a shrug. He begins unfastening his pants as he approaches, palming at his cock with one hand, whilst the other dips between your legs to slide a finger over your slit.

Micah slides his fingers over you a few times, before slipping a digit in, slowly working his finger in and out. His head dips down to catch your lips, lightly kissing you, enjoying the soft whimpers you make against his lips. He doesn't bother sliding another finger in, and moves his hand away to nudge you against the tree.

Your hands rest on the trunk, and you peer over your shoulder to watch as Micah holds your skirt up around your hips, his other hand slicking his cock against your folds. He's clearly in a rush as he doesn't bother teasing you for long, instead, slipping his cock in and slowly sheathing himself inside you.

Micah mutters something under his breath as he grips onto your hips, and pulls you back onto his cock, pushing himself as deep as he can go. He holds himself there as he lets out a long, deep groan, followed by starting his thrusts, jumping straight into a quick pace. You feel something tap against your foot, peering down to see Micah tapping at you; you know what he wants, so you spread your legs wider, arching your back, gripping onto the tree trunk for support.

This needs to be quick. You dip your hand down between your legs, rubbing at your clit, building your orgasm with Micah's help. He's quieter than usual, the sound of skin against skin filling the air, and hopefully not echoing all the way back to camp.

A hand weaves its way around your waist, and Micah pulls you upright, your back pressed to his chest. He speaks in a deep, husk voice, almost growling into your ear. "I am a little disappointed that you ain't wearing my fancy lingerie, means I'll have to wait to cut it off you," he comments, still attempting to thrust into you, despite the awkward position.

"You ain't even got your knife on you," you say with a laugh. Your laughter is cut short as Micah moves his hand to your neck, gripping oh-so-perfectly, just how you like it.

"I'd use my bare hands, but I can be patient, I'll wait," he says with a soft shrug.

Micah manages to make do, bucking up into you, your hand still rubbing your clit. His thumb removes itself from your neck, only to be replaced with his lips, sucking and kissing your skin so hard that you know it's going to leave marks. You mutter his name, and Micah pleasantly hums as a reply. "Come on, sweetheart," he urges, picking up the pace, and chuckling at his pun.

Your back may be hurting, but you roll your head against Micah's shoulder, moaning away. Only your moans are cut short as you suddenly orgasm, tightening around Micah's length. He quickly removes himself from you, almost shoving you out of the way as he pulls out, spilling himself over the forest floor. "Hell," Micah mutters under his breath, finishing up, and then tucking himself away.

"Pretty," Micah comments as he lightly slaps your ass, just as you're pulling your undergarments back up.

"I know," you smugly reply, and Micah giggles at your comment. He reaches in his back pocket, fishing out a packet of cigarettes, and offers you one. Rather than using one of his matches, you light yours on the end of Micah's, blowing smoke in his face on your first exhale.

"Petty," Micah grumbles, "c'mon, I'm sure your shift has finished by now."

"You can walk ahead, Micah. I ain't risking being seen wandering into camp with you."

"Alright, suit yourself," he shrugs, turning heel and heading back to camp.

You watch him go, wandering off into the darkness, disappearing into the trees, the light from his cigarette eventually fading black. It's too dark out here to check your pocket watch, but after a handful of minutes, you finish off your smoke, and assume it's time to wake the next person up for guard duty.

The walk back to camp is quiet, as always, and for some reason, you're looking out for Micah as you enter camp. He's nowhere to be seen, probably wandered off down the shoreline, and you can't help but scold yourself for being so curious as to his whereabouts.

You shake your head, trailing over to your tent after passing the rifle over to the next camp member on watch, and soon fall asleep, despite the stinging sensation on your neck. 

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Thirteen | Waterfall (Part 2 of 4)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

You keep repeating to yourself this is nothing but a simple and friendly outing, though it's easy to forget with how insistent Frisk and Undyne have been in terms of suggesting the opposite.

The feeling's made worse when you get down from the ride and see how grand and overwhelming the place you've been invited to is. In comparison to the warm and calm ambiance of a regular bakery or a small coffee shop, you're met with people clad in semiformal outfits and a refined atmosphere -- similar to that of a five-star restaurant. What reminds you this is just a place for eating desserts is being greeted at the front by a humbler-dressed, white-furred rabbit monster labeling himself as the second owner of the shop, the name 'Roger' spelled out on his name tag. He greets you and Sans in, and offers you a pamphlet.

"I remember you," he says, facing Sans with a smile. "You're from Snowdin, aren't you? It's nice to see you've found a date up here!" The excitement in his tone warns he's about to ramble. "It's so refreshing to see other people like us! Honestly, we… We made this shop hoping more would show up, but you two are the second couple I've had the knowledge of serving here so far!"

"Like us?" you ask, facing the monster. "Is your partner human?" 

"Yes!" he takes your hand while his nose twitches with pent-up energy. "People always come here talking a little, well... mean about it, so I always have to stay on-watch. The first couple that came here got scared off by one of those customers, but now my girlfriend makes sure to keep an eye out!" He lets go, apologizing after. "I get too excited every time I see pairs like you walk in together, but they always tell me they're just friends! And while I get that, really it's... It's such a joy to have you guys here!"

"We're actually not-"

"I get what you mean." In the spur of the moment, you interrupt Sans when he tries to say the truth. Roger's excitement is too bright to rain on, resulting in you wanting to play along. With how he is, you're sure the skeleton's not going to let you live it down, but one look at the hope in the other monster's eyes is enough to make your heart turn to mush. "This is actually our first date, but we're getting there."

Roger smiles, though it soon fades as he looks at the approaching line of customers from afar. Then, he looks to the shop to see the ones who entered in before you have already sat down. "Sorry for holding you back so much," he adds, huffing as an apologetic look makes its way through. "I try really hard not to get too excited about this kind of stuff, but again... It's so nice to have you guys here!" He points over to the counter, smile reappearing. "Go ahead and stop by the counter, alright? You can order to-go, or sit down, if you want to stay!"

"Thank you," you reply, returning his smile. 

You make way into the shop with Sans by your side, avoiding eye contact all the way to the counter. You already know he has a comment on the ready, so it's not much of a surprise when you hear him speak up right before making it there. "So," he says, chuckling. "First date, huh?" He walks a little closer to your side, trying to get you to look at him, but failing. "...Was that meant as a lie, or are you hintin' at somethin' else there, pal?"

"I'm not sure what to think of this myself, but…" You stop halfway, not wanting to admit your own wants just yet. "In the end, I only did it 'cause I couldn't bring myself to get his hopes down." A pink-furred bunnywoman takes your order. The reply you'd given Sans by text is then worded out by him, along with his own order and Frisk's favourite dessert to-go. While you have your wallet close by, you're not told to pay yet, and are instead led to an empty table, where you're both left to wait. You thank the monster as she leaves and go back to your conversation with Sans as soon as she's gone from your sight. "But even if this was a date, I still don't think I'd be able to accept having another one after today's."

At that, his curiosity rises, shown by the subtle flicker in his irises. "What do you mean?"

You avoid his gaze by toying with the cutlery left on the table. "I need to focus more on raising Frisk before going anywhere with my love life."

"Why?" There's honest confusion in his question despite how blunt and intrusive it is without any proper context, something he catches onto by using another one to elaborate his meaning better. "So you haven't dated anyone ever since that day?"

You nod while thanking a waiter, this one a brown bear dressed in more formal wear; he sets two drinks down -- one for you and one for your company. "I haven't, and to be honest I'd…" Your chest feels tight as so does your throat, both of these almost trying to distract you away from what you're about to say. "I'd like to keep it that way for as long as it's needed." You try to stop yourself from saying anything else, though the coziness of the shop and Sans's presence give you an entry for letting out what's been kept hidden for as long as that day came around. "I need to be there for Frisk, and I need to be more careful of who I date from now on." You're not sure what else's making you open up so much, but you don't exactly stop yourself from continuing with your thoughts. "You see, I… I really don't want Frisk to grow up in an environment full of constant fights and disagreements." 

As soon as you catch yourself, your brain makes a stop, yet your mouth continues to pour out what's making your heart strain as much as it is currently. "There's already enough of that in the world waiting out there for Frisk when they grow up, so the least I can do is make it a little easier for them right now." Your mind hates you at this point, though you can feel the rest of your body grow lighter, tension releasing itself from it. "That's why… why I didn't really try to stop Jerry when he started to drift away; when visits became just once a month, rather than twice a week. We didn't really get along well after we (had/adopted) Frisk, so that's why… That's why I figured it was best to let him go."

When you hear your voice turn weak, you stop, mind sending endless comments of disapproval into your thoughts. You flinch when you have a napkin offered out to you, but you take it when you see Sans nod, still waiting for you. He then pulls back quickly, still avoiding your touch. "So, what I'm gettin' at here's that you feel just as responsible as Frisk did over what happened that day," he says, voice low and tone solemn. "Or at least, that's what it looks like."

Sans stops and looks behind you. The same waiter from before appears next to you and places your dessert first and later his; once more, you thank him and wait until he leaves the table. When he's gone, your companion speaks up again, setting the plate aside to focus on you more. "Don't wanna assume things right off the bat, but…" He takes a pause, picks up a fork, and pierces it through the pastry. Then, he faces you, continuing with, "You kinda feel like you've gotta make up for that? Limiting yourself that much ain't really the best option there is, though."

You hum, face away, and pick up a portion off your dessert to distract yourself from him. "I just don't trust myself enough to make the right decision again." You take the first bite; the sweet's flavour helps you with the situation. 

The harmony of cutlery clicking and outside chatter blend into the background as your conversation with him carries on. While you listen, you take another bite off your dessert to make matters less tense. "Y'know, if this helps, most of us think you did a good job raising the kid." He stops again and brings the cup closer to him. "If you look at it this way, you helped with lettin' 'em make their own choices and decide how to approach monsters back then. In a sense, we're all connected one way or the other -- kinda like how you start off as their teacher, and then take them to an actual school where they'll continue to grow as a person." He sways the drink around and looks down at it for a moment. "And even if it's possible for a kid their age to start shapin' their own mindset and decide what's good, what's alright, and what's not, most of it's still based off what they've been taught so far. They're not fully in control of who they are yet, and that's why it's often a huge responsibility to take -- parenting, teaching, and all that."

He stops again to take a swing from his drink. The view of his skull contorting to allow him a sip was one surprising to watch the first time you saw him and Papyrus eating some of Toriel's vegetable stew the day of the blackout, and even more intriguing the time you invited him over for a meal after finishing with your errands at the school supply. Now that you're seeing it for a third time though, you focus far too much on it, yet you try to brush it off and pay more attention to him. There's plenty of questions present in regard to how monsters worked the way they did -- each different in their own way, given how many types there are -- but you're not quite sure if it would be proper to bring them out so suddenly right now.

"Basically," he continues, setting the drink down. "When you're at that young of an age, you don't have a full understanding of who you are, and that's why it's so important for lil' kids to have good, or at least decent examples for them to follow." He faces you. How direct his gaze feels makes you look away, feeling embarrassment burn your face. "And so pretty much based on how Frisk acted during their time at the Underground, I can tell they've been raised well." His gaze drifts off behind you again, though there's a different look to it this time. In contrast to the one he'd given earlier to acknowledge the waiter's arrival, there's caution present in his irises. "What I'm sayin' here is: you're a good parent, (Y/N). And if you feel like you have to restrain yourself from livin' life, you really shouldn't. You're-"

"Hey, Kevin," a man says, voice coming from behind you. "What did the skeleton say to the hog?" 

The strangeness behind his gaze makes more sense now; the voice that sounds from behind you's far too annoying for it not to belong to trouble.

You hear laughter and another voice reply with, "I don't know, Brayan. What?"

Brayan fakes a swoon and attempts to mimic what you can only assume is Sans's voice, saying, "Oh, you're the exact opposite of me -- all fat and no bones. What a catch!"

More laughter.

"Wait, wait," Kevin says, voice now heard from closer by. "I've- I've gotta good follow-up to that one." Even more obnoxious laughter's heard from him, and a not-so adorable snort comes from Brayan. "I might be fat, but you're the real pig here -- liking me only because of those weird tastes of yours!"

"What's bothering you, mi chicharrón*? You're my type. I'm only saying the truth!

"And I'm done with you, you bonehead!"

One of the two men emerge next to Sans and attempts to push him off his chair to follow-up to their impromptu play, with enough flamboyance and sass to make Shakespeare proud.

You step in, grabbing by the arm who you assume's Kevin and keeping him from finishing his joke. He freezes, though he soon recovers, a grin replacing his surprise. "Hey look, Brayan," he calls out. "Piggy's all angry now!"

Done too quick for you to react, you feel something cold pour over your chest and look to your left to see Brayan with a grin on his face and with an empty glass left on his hand. "Cool off," he says, laughing. 

Before you can process it, something trips his feet and sends his donkey to the ground. 

Both your drink and the skeleton's end up thrown on him as a familiar blue aura surrounds both of the glasses. 

"Wh- What the hell, man?" he shouts, flustered. "Who did that?!"

The human owner of the establishment appears right behind him and brings him into an arm lock. She's just as formally dressed as the bear waiter; a long red dress matches with her lipstick and does the opposite with her light skin and bright ginger hair. The name ‘Jessica’ is spelled neatly on her name tag. "Sounds to me like you're the one who needs to cool off first," she says, pulling him to his feet. Her teeth are clenched and a frown shapes her mouth. "Tell your friend he needs to follow me if he doesn't want the same treatment." She drags both men along with her, leaving you alone with Sans -- plus an audience too big for your liking. 

The brown bear makes his appearance again. A mess of apologies exit his mouth as he rushes over with two new drinks and a towel hung over his shoulder. Sans helps him by taking the latter and approaching your side.

"You okay?" he asks. Carefully, he sets the towel over you, hands moving stiff and awkward when he tries to wrap it around your torso. You bite back a smile at that, his current reticence helping you forget about Brayan and Kevin's actions. Even with how daring he was while flirting, he was inevitably trying his best not to cross unwanted lines with you. "Was it hot?"

Stop.

That word repeats itself over and over in your mind as you use the towel to pull him closer to you, his hands still holding onto it. You take them, let him hold onto your waist, and allow your smile to shine through, heart pounding all the while. "No," you reply, grinning. "But you worrying about me kinda is." You kiss his cheekbone, murmuring a 'thank you, Sans' close to his ear cavity.

The crowd goes wild, whistles and woots being let out as you keep your lips there for a moment, right until you feel his skull turn hot to the touch. When you pull back, his irises are wide, jumpy, and bright, these trying their best to look away from you. He lets go of the towel, steps back, and sits down on his chair while the crowd settles out.

"Uh..." he mutters, short of breath. "No problem, (Y/N)."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

*mi (my) chicharrón = Fried pork belly or rinds; a pork dish/snack originating from Hispanic countries.

In this case, it's used as a nickname, like honey, sugar, dear, and all that!

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

[heximagines]

ooh okay! poor roadkill man gets forgotten about sometimes lmao

anyhows! can i request “i’m sorry. i can’t do this anymore” for lester? thank you dear!

I have a few things in progress for Lester now so def keep an eye out! For now I hope you enjoy this. <3 

__

“Thank you, thank you again. You two are total life savers I don’t know what I would have done about my car.” You gave the young woman beside you an uneasy smile, feeling the anxiety blooming in your chest. Your eyes shifted to Lester who seemed completely unfazed, if it wasn’t your sweet boyfriend you would have shuddered. “No problem! I’m glad we came across ya when we did. It’s gonna get dark soon. Bo should be able to get your car fixed up and get you back on the road tomorrow morning.” You chewed the inside of your cheek, even the mention of Bo’s name set you on edge. “I really wouldn’t have ever known about this little town.” The girl peered out the window curious and eager. She was just so innocent it made you want to cry. You hated this. You hated doing this. Sensing your nerves Lester placed his hand on your knee and squeezed it reassuringly. The girl beamed at you with big doe eyes. “You two are so cute. How long you been together?” You let your head rest on your boyfriend’s shoulder, something that seemed like a sweet gesture but was more of a way to ground yourself. “It’s been a little over a year now,” you mused. A little over a year ago you were in a very similar position to the woman beside you now. But you were lucky. Luckier than she’d be. The thought made you shiver. You didn’t want to do this anymore. You just wanted to go home and snuggle in bed with your boyfriend like a normal couple. You wanted to be a normal couple. Finally after what felt like an eternity you rolled into town and up to Bo’s garage. Your gut twisted and you turned to look at the girl one more time. She was so tiny, barely passing 5 feet and thin. Bo would have no trouble at all with her. For a moment your brain screamed out for you to do something, say something. It urged you to save her. But you didn’t. Instead you gave her a smile and slipped out of tow truck right behind her. Lester went around to the back and went about unhooking her. “I just realized how rude I’ve been. I didn’t even introduce myself.” She held a dainty hand out to you. “My name is Summer.” Gently you took her hand and shook it. “I’m y/n. And my boyfriend is Lester. It’s been nice meeting you Summer.” You felt like you were on autopilot as you lead her over to Bo who was just now exiting the garage wiping his greasy hands on a red rag. From the corner of your eye you watched Summer’s face flush as the ‘dashing mechanic’ grinned at her. “Well would you look at this beauty.” Bo took Summer’s hand in his own. “Bo Sinclair at your service darlin’. Looks like you’r havin’ some car trouble.” You watched as Summer blushed darker and went about explaining the odd sound her car had been making. Lester threw an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close. “Well we better get headin‘ home. Y/n promised to make some stew tonight and I am starving.” He turned to Summer and gave her a small wave. “Oh thanks again! I know I keep saying it but I seriously appreciate it.” You couldn’t take any more. You felt like your head was going to explode. “No problem. You’re in good hands now. Safe travels.” You gave the girl a small wave before letting Lester pull you away as if he sensed you were about to break at any second.

Your boyfriend held you close as you walked back to the truck, leaning in to place a kiss on your temple. “Almost done sweetie. We’re goin‘ home now. All done. Okay?” Tears were welling up in your eyes and you wanted to look back. But you knew you’d only see Bo leading Summer on to her untimely end. A few tears streaked down your cheeks and Lester hushed you. “It’s okay, all done now.” Finally Lester helped you up into the truck, started the engine, and drove off. When you were finally far enough away you hung your head and a shuddering sob left your body. A small whine left the back of Lester’s throat, one of his hands leaving the steering wheel so he could wrap his arm around you again. You scooted closer and snuggled against his side, desperate for comfort. “Les, I-I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore.” Lester took a deep breath and squeezed your arm. “Believe me sugar. I been there. I know it’s hard. But we gotta do what we gotta-” “Why!?” Your sudden outburst made him flinch. “Why do we have to do this? Why?” Lester bit his lip. ‘Why?’ That very question had passed through his mind so many times. Lester still didn’t know the answer. Finally he took a deep breath. “Y/n you don’t gotta do this no more okay? I won’t ever make ya come along with me again. I promise.”  You only shook your head. “That’s not... That’s not good enough.” Your voice was small, tired. “I don’t want us to do this. I don’t want this for us.”  There was a long silence then. One that lasted the rest of the ride to your home at the edge of town. Lester parked the truck and  cut the engine but didn’t budge from his spot. Neither did you. He ran his grimy hands over his face and sighed. “I don’t want this for us neither. But I want to be with my family.” Your eyes closed as you processed the words. Finally you decided this was good enough for now. You were too tired, too raw to think about this anymore. The only thing you wanted now was to be with Lester. You took his hand in your own and squeezed. “Can we watch a movie in bed? I’m tired.” Lester squeezed back. “That sound’s nice sugar. C’mon let’s go.”

[an-absolute-travesty]

Secret Santa fic!

Heya @all-eternity it was me all along! I hope you enjoy this :) very much looking foward to actually being able to follow you after this without looking sketchy lmao

Also shoutout to my lovely beta reader @keepersandqueens as if I don’t talk about Salas enough here lol

Warnings: underage drinking, drinking in general, hangover, drugs/medication mention (not abused, basic over the counter stuff dw), mentions of vomit (not described)

Pairings: Kam, background marelinh, ex titz

About: Kam coffee shop college au 

Word count: 5,205

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added or removed): @cadence-talle @ruewen-and-rising @lemontarto @a-lonely-tatertot @clearlyvacksen @percabetn @sewersewersewercouch @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @enbies-and-felonies @blxckh0les42​ @rainbowtay-11 @callas-starkflower-stew @impostertamsong @appalyneinstitute1 @stars-and-splendor @anna-without-an-e @mistythegenderqueermess @we-have-no-bananas-today @we-wont-dissapear @jadenightthewriter

Tam stumbled into his first 8 am class, anxiety making his heart feel like it was pounding out of his chest and stomach doing backflips.

If he could survive bouncing between foster homes, a short stint at juvie, and worst of all high school, he could survive college.

Well he thought he could until he saw a familiar person right next to the only available chair in the room.

God fucking damn it.

"Hey Bangs Boy!" Keefe waved him down, causing a scene. Tam had no option but to sit beside him, both because of the lack of chairs and the fact that everyone was now staring at him.

Not a great start.

"What a coincidence! I notice you still haven't taken my suggestions on your hair, I'm telling ya' you'd get all the girls and or guys and nonbinary pals with a man bun." Keefe looked smug at the fact he'd be able to taunt Tam for another semester, minimum. Tam was already making a mental note to check when he could swap out of classes.

"Keefe, if I knew you were going here I would've just gotten myself back in jail, oh wait, you were the one who got me in there in the first place." Tam shot him a look, praying that he'd suddenly develop superpowers and shoot lasers from his eyes.

"Hey, just because I came up with the idea...and helped with some of the execution, doesn't mean I'm responsible for you trashing your parents house. Besides, you were only in there for like 3 days max before you got out," Keefe said, shrugging as if 3 days in jail was no biggie.

"Most peaceful 3 days of my life," Tam sneered, turning back to the front of the room as the professor walked in.

"Good morning class!" the prof turned to the white board, writing his name. "I am Dr. Harding," he tapped it for emphasis.

The class was silent.

"And you say good mor..."

"Good morning Dr. Harding," The class said in unison, they all sounded tired and bored.

This wasn't going to be fun.

~*~

"Grande ice vanilla latte for...Hen-are-y?"

The man shot Keefe a look as he grabbed his coffee.

"Henry." He dropped a tip in the jar, fifty cents. How generous.

He had come in before, and never left good tips. Keefe made it a game to pronounce the names of anyone who wasn't a college student and left bad tips wrong, no matter how much they came in. It was a wonder he hadn't been fired yet.

As he turned preparing another drink, the bell at the top of the door rang. He ignored it at first until he heard a quiet, "Fuck," come from behind.

"Bangs boy!"

"Why are you here?"

"I work here obviously," Keefe walked up to the counter. "Now, what'll it be?"

Tam sighed. "Iced caramel macchiato with two extra shots of espresso."

"Size?"

"Venti."

Keefe whistled thinking about how much caffeine that was as he wrote down "Bangs Boy" on the cup.

"Alright, that'll be 5.75, may I ask why the insane amount of coffee? I believe I remember you saying caffeine makes you anxious in high school."

"Yes, but it also helps me focus, and I have a quiz tomorrow I haven't studied for."

"Fair enough," Keefe said, going to prepare the drink. "It'll be ready in five."

Tam nodded, walking off to the side and scrolling on his phone. Keefe made the drink, occasionally sneaking looks over at Tam. He didn't seem to notice, thank God.

Soon after, they finished the transaction.

"See you at class," Keefe said, he was trying to be genuine, but it came across more taunting.

Tam grimaced, muttered "Thanks for the coffee," and walked out the door.

~*~

The class fell silent as a disheveled Dr. Harding walked in, a pack of gatorade in one hand and bottle of tylenol in the other. He popped one as he sat down.

"Hello class it seems today I have the worst headache imaginable, just give me about 5 minutes of silence and we will go over your assignments."

Keefe leaned over to Tam's desk.

"Well, we know what he got into last night," he whispered. "Heard the bar on the corner of 5th was giving out two for ones for professors."

"Isn't that place run by the alumni?"

"Exactly. Gotta thank Alvar tomorrow, Fitz said it was his idea."

"Wait Fitz goes here too? Why did I not-"

"Boys!" Dr. Harding practically yelled. "I am tired of the racket." He put his face in his hands where his elbows rested on the desk, bald spot showing to the world.

"We were whispering!" Keefe made a 'what the hell' sort of gesture. Tam glared at him, hoping he could communicate 'I will kill you myself if you say another word' with just his eyes.

"Sencen, do I look like I care?"

Keefe winced a bit at the use of his last name. That was something Tam could understand.

"Look, boys," Dr. Harding stood up and turned to the chalkboard, writing something down. "If you all like talking so much, you'll love this next project."

He walked to the side, revealing the board, that read '10 page essay, due the 25th'

"With the person next to you, you'll be writing a 10 page essay on um...the importance of keeping your oil changed in your car. You'll then present it to the class. It's worth 25 points."

A student raised their hand.

"Luka?"

"Sir, I thought this was a psychology course?"

"It is. You are all excused."

With that, he left the room with his tylenol and gatorade in his arms. The students glared at Keefe and Tam as they all got up, muttering amongst themselves about the pure bullshittery of it all.

"So..." Keefe said, slowly standing. "Does the library tomorrow at 3 work? I have work until then, so it can't be any earlier."

"Yeah, sure." Tam promptly walked out of the classroom as fast as possible, he didn't know why but his anxiety was spiking. He tried to tell himself it was just because he was a useless gay that didn't know jackshit about cars, yeah, surely that was it.

Just a useless gay.

~*~

Tam waited at a table in the library, it was 3:05, Keefe was late.

He didn't know what else he expected from him, he always seemed to do stuff like this. At the same time, Tam didn't have the energy to be particularly mad at him. This was going to be the stupidest essay ever written in the history of man, might as well put it off.

The library door slammed open, and in came Keefe. He balanced a large stack of papers and books along with four drinks. He stumbled over to Tam and practically threw them down on the table.

"Sorry I'm late, I thought it would be nice to, like, get you a coffee, but I didn't know how much caffeine you wanted, so I got one decaf caramel macchiato, one normal, and one with an extra shot, and also hot chocolate for me."

He sat down in the chair by Tam, as if getting three different coffees for someone you were forced to do a project with was totally normal.

"Um...thanks, I-I can pay you back-"

"Don't worry about it." Keefe turned to him and smiled, bright and friendly. Tam was frozen. "Okay, now it's car time." Keefe turned back to the desk.

"Yeah."

They were silent for a while as they researched, Keefe going through his piles of papers and books and Tam on his laptop like any sane person would.

Tam finally worked up the nerve to talk.

"So um...this is out of nowhere, but I think you mentioned Fitz went here?"

"Oh, yeah." Keefe put down the absurdly large textbook that was set up in front of him. "He's my roommate, he uh thought it would be best not to tell you after everything, I guess."

"That's fine," Tam shrugged like he didn't care. "I'm over it."

He was, really. They only dated like 2 weeks, sure it ended with a...pretty big fight after Fitz claimed he wouldn't be able to date someone who had gone to jail and Tam reminded him it was his best friend that got him in there in the first place, but he was still over it. There was still something bothering him, nothing to do with Fitz himself but...something. He just couldn't put his finger on what.

"Alright, I'll take your word." Keefe shrugged, setting his giant book back up in front of him.

Tam felt the need to start talking again, but didn't. They were mostly silent for the next 40 minutes or so, just researching and the occasional word exchanged between them.

Keefe checked his phone.

"Shit," He got up. "Work emergency, I gotta go. Same time tomorrow?"

"Yeah that works."

"Chill, see ya' later."

"Bye."

Keefe waved (with a wide grin Tam would've called idiotic in high school) as he went out the door.

Tam found himself with a smile on his own face, he quickly stopped, hoping no one saw.

~*~

Keefe hurried into work, pulling his apron on as he saw the absurdly long line and a panicked Marella frantically making coffees behind the counter. She sighed with relief when she saw him.

"Thank God," She said as he stepped behind the counter with her. "There was a scheduling error, Forkle's useless at that stuff."

Mr. Forkle, their well-meaning but often mistaken manager, was out of town at the moment. The fate of the Starbucks rested on two college kids, what could go wrong.

And so they went, Keefe taking orders and Marella fulfilling them until there were no more to serve.

Marella, quite literally, threw in a towel she had wiped her face with. Promptly going to the back, presumably for her break. Keefe followed her.

"Alright, I think you can probably go back to whatever you were doing before this now if you'd like," said Marella, inspecting the small braids in her hair in the nearest shiny surface.

"Nah I was just doing a project with Tam for Harding's stupid class, he's probably left by now, I might as well rack up some overtime."

Marella turned back at him, clearly caught off guard at the name.

"Tam? As in my-girlfriend's-brother Tam? As in you-had-a-massive-crush-on-in-highschool Tam? As in dated-Fitz Tam? As in you-got-him-in-jail-"

"Yes! Yes! Why does everyone remind me of that, it was one time."

"When you get someone in jail, people tend to remember," Marella went silent for a second, thinking, before looking Keefe in the eye. "Wow, that must be awkward as hell, I mean seriously, if I were you I'd straight up file a restraining order just to avoid him. Maybe move to another country. I hear Estonia is lovely this time of year."

"Eh, it's not as bad as it seems. I mean it was awful at first, mostly because I tried to resume right where we left it on the taunting front, but I think it's ok now."

"Hm. Well good luck with that," Marella turned back to go to the front, but Keefe grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Uh, actually I need your advice on something. It has to do with Tam."

"Shoot."

"Well I was thinking of maybe, I don't know, asking him out or something? Look, yeah, it's an awful idea but is it 'he never wants to talk to me again' awful or 'he attempts to strangle me' awful?"

Marella looked him up and down, eyes uncomfortably cold, as usual.

"I mean, no hetero, but despite your annoying qualities you're a decent looking guy. Plus Tam's, like, super anxious according to Linh, so maybe he'll be too awkward to say no. You can probably squeeze at least one date in there."

"Wow, thanks Mare," Keefe mumbled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, I try. Also don't call me Mare."

"Alright Ella!" Keefe called as the front door's bell rang, signalling a new customer. Marella went off to take care of it, unable to respond she growled back at him.

~*~

Tap tap tap tap tap.

Tam glared from across the table.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

Keefe looked up, muttered a simple "Fidgety" and went right back to it, tapping his pen against the table. Tam said nothing more.

Keefe had been quiet for this entire meeting, something highly unusual for him.

"Ok, seriously dude, what's up? I haven't seen you this quiet literally ever."

He only seemed to get more fidgety at this question, his bouncing leg shaking the library table.

"I...um..." he looked down, running a hand through his hair "I have a test I need to cram for and no one to study with and keep me accountable. Y'know, ADHD issues."

Tam didn't overthink for once in his life but the moment the sentence was out of his mouth he regretted it.

"I have a test too, maybe we could study together?"

Keefe smiled his annoyingly charming smile.

"Sounds good."

"Good."

Tam quickly looked back down at his computer, trying to look like he was still doing car research when in actuality he was processing he just actively offered to spend more time with Keefe Sencen.

If Linh found out about this he'd never live it down.

He didn't think he cared.

~*~

Dr. Harding walked through the classroom door, clearly much less hungover than his last appearance.

The students waited, would they get an apology? Any sort of remorse?

"Alright, who wants to read first?"

Apparently not.

Keefe raised his hand with too much confidence for what their essay looked like. Tam gave him a confused look. He had his scheming face on, never good.

"Mr. Sencen!" Keefe winced at the use of his last name by the doctor. "What an amazing start, it's only appropriate. One of you boys come up and present."

Tam gave Keefe a look of 'do you want me to do it?' Keefe just smiled and got up from his chair. This would either be really good or really, really bad. Tam was all too familiar with the scheme face.

"Doc, I did depart from the source material a bit here, hope you don't mind. And I use 'I' because Tam had no involvement in this, he deserves full points for his essay."

Keefe cleared his throat, the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"Doctor Harding deserves to get fired: an essay. (And it's only been a week!) Paragraph one, his drinking problem-"

"Sencen! Back to your seat now. I will see you after class, or I will not see you in my next class, understand?"

Keefe gave a thumbs up as he sat back on his chair with a thud.

A few minutes later, in the middle of another student's essay, he passed Tam a note with his loopy handwriting.

"The amount of comebacks I had for 'see me after class' is absurd but if I get kicked out there's no way Elwin is helping me pay tuition a second time."

Tam tried not to smile, certainly failing, as he wrote his response.

"Yeah I think the time you talked back to Miss Cadence she wanted to expel you. Lucky Principal Alina had a thing for pseudo-dad Alden."

"Oh God I haven't talked to him in a whiiiiiile."

"?"

"You haven't heard? Yeah, he sorta found out like ALL his kids were ell gee bee tees and freaked out. Della found herself a new gf though!"

"Sounds like a lovely extra punch in the gut for a queerphobe."

"Yep. Honestly I recommend looking through his Facebook sometime. Just a million rants about how the gays destroy everything, great entertainment."

"Duly noted."

At that point it seemed like the doctor started to take notice of their note passing, and they stopped quickly. Tam wouldn't be surprised if he did the whole high school read in front of the class thing with the way he had been acting so far.

Tam was 100% sure tenure was the only thing keeping this guy's job intact. Apparently being a drunk asshole wasn't near enough to get a person out of their position. He tried to ignore the professor's annoyingly smug face for the rest of the class.

~*~

Keefe sat in his usual spot at the library, Tam sitting across from him, his brown eyes dancing across the textbook page and lips mumbling along the words. He didn't have much to do, often finding himself just staring at Tam, quickly looking away if he seemed to notice.

Eventually he sighed, sitting back.

"Ugh, this test is in a week and I have so much other crap to do, I'll never get this all memorized by Friday."

Keefe silently thanked his brain for managing to get around the having to study thing. Yay, photographic memory!

"Oh, uh, well I'm free to study more tomorrow if that would help? We could do, like, flashcards or something."

Tam seemed to repress a smile. He did that a lot. Keefe always noticed.

"That's okay, I'm sure you have better things to do. The Starbucks is always pretty packed."

"Eh, sometimes you have to get away from Marella. She's mean to me."

"Not just you, once she told me if I ever made fun of Linh's cat's name again she'd make me cut off my own bangs."

Keefe nodded sagely. "The shorter you are the closer to hell. That's why you're worse than her."

"Hey!"

Tam flicked a stray rubber band at Keefe.

"I'm at least 2 inches taller than Marella...we measured."

Keefe thought up about 12 inappropriate jokes he couldn't make before flicking the rubber band back.

"Two inches only counts in roller coasters, none of which you can ride."

Tam stuck his tongue out before returning to his studies. Unlike Tam, Keefe didn't hide his smile.

~*~

Tam strolled into the Starbucks that Friday morning, no longer surprised to see Keefe working the counter. He could barely hold still in line as he thought about the amount of cramming he'd have to do in the next few hours.

When he reached the counter, Keefe said nothing, just busily worked making a drink.

He stuck it right out at Tam.

"One venti iced caramel macchiato with 2 extra shots of espresso because you have a test today in political science and still haven't studied everything and also a muffin because you probably haven't eaten today. On the house. Good luck with the studying."

Tam froze.

"I- um- th-thaks. Y-you too...sport."

Oh, you fucking idiot.

He quickly scurried out of the Starbucks with drink and muffin in hand. Wow, he had screwed that up.

But...

Keefe...

He...

He remembered his order and that he had a test and that he forgot to eat when he was stressed holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit-

Okay, deep breaths Tam, you got this. You can totally handle a frustratingly cute guy showing care for you this is fine...

Not fine, not fine, gotta tell Linh.

He called Linh with no forewarning. Despite the fact that she was currently across the country at a different university, and it was about 3 am for her, she picked up. He barely let her get out a groggy "Hello?" before explaining everything. She only seemed to think a moment before responding.

"Hm. Well it's good to know that college is going good for you. Do you need advice or comfort?"

"Yes."

"Well, first of all, everything's gonna be okay. And I know that doesn't help much but just try to remember we're eighteen, and it's not the end of the world. Second of all, try to ask him out or something. It doesn't have to be framed as a date, like Marella and I got together on a walk in the park, seriously it can be anything."

"Thanks Linh."

"No problem, also can you hug Marella for me?"

"If she doesn't try to kill me first, yes."

"Nice. Okay go do what you gotta do, also don't wake me up at 3 am again or else I'll sic Purryfins on you, I had just gone to bed."

With that she hung up and Tam continued on his way, still trying to not completely freak out.

~*~

Keefe stared blankly as Tam walked right out of the door. Marella appeared by his arm.

"So, how'd it go?"

"Well, he called me 'sport'."

Marella inhaled through her teeth.

"Yikes. Comfort, advice, or distraction?"

"Distraction, please." Keefe replied, absent-mindedly preparing a cup for the next customer.

"Uh, well I meant to ask you what ended up happening with that ass of a teacher, but I got a bit distracted at your attempt to woo Tam-"

"Hey I said distraction not reminder. But basically I just got a slap on the wrist because, and I quote, 'Your father is Cassius Sencen! He wrote half the books we use in this class, I'm sure he can straighten you out!'"

"There's absolutely nothing papa Sencen could do to make you straight, I'm pretty sure he tried that, and it obviously didn't work."

"He actually tried a few times and it most definitely did not. Lucky he doesn't have my number anymore or else I assure you he'd keep trying."

Marella laughed.

"Well, moving on from grade A assholes, I'm supposed to tell you there's a party tonight. I'll have to send you the address later, I have it on my phone though, I am told there's gonna be booze, so I'm going."

"Eh, I'll probably go. Just to get my mind off everything."

"Thata boy." She lifted her phone. "And my shifts over in three, two, one, and I am out of here! See ya' tonight Hunkyhair."

"That's Lord Hunkyhair to you."

She just rolled her eyes and clocked out, leaving Keefe to deal with both the customers and his own thoughts.

~*~

Tam sat in his dorm room alone, constantly refreshing his grades for the possibility that his 70-year-old professor would post the test results at 1:30 am.

His roommate was gone for the weekend, actually he was gone most of the time. Tam didn't think they'd even had a full conversation before.

He jumped as his phone began to ring, a call from Keefe of all people. He hesitantly picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Tam! Tam Tam Tam Tam Tam" Keefe's slurred speech was too loud for a phone call, Tam held his phone a bit away from his ear. "...fuck wait why did I call you..."

There was a long pause, neither said anything.

"Oh yeah! I needed to tell you something...but uh I uhm I forgot what it was."

"Keefe, where are you?"

"At a paaaaaarty, well, actually just outside a party because it was hot in there, but now it's cold out here so uh yeah."

Tam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, send me the address, I'm coming to pick you up. Wait right there and don't move."

"Okie dokie."

Tam heard a thud sort of sound and the rustling of grass from the other line before Keefe hung up and soon after got a message of his location.

After 20 minutes of walking in the cold, Tam came up to what seemed to be a frat house with Keefe sitting on the lawn in criss-cross, patiently waiting in short sleeves and basketball shorts, way too little clothing for the weather. His ruddy face smiled as he saw Tam approach.

"Tam! I remembered what I was going to tell you." He stood up, face falling right after. "Oh no wait I forgot again. Ooh! You need a drink."

Keefe grabbed Tam's hand, pulling him towards the house. Tam stayed in place.

"Hey, let's get you home dude."

Keefe pouted.

"I don't wannaaaa."

He slouched down, pulling on Tam's arm like a child having a tantrum.

Tam pulled him back up to his feet.

"C'mon, if you go to your dorm without fuss I'll buy you ice cream tomorrow."

Keefe seemed much more ok with going along with Tam with the ice cream deal. He pulled off his own coat and placed it around the very drunk boy, he didn't complain.

Keefe began humming some annoying song from the early 2000s that was playing from the house earlier as they walked back in the direction of the dorms.

Suddenly, Tam remembered something.

Fitz was Keefe's roommate.

Shit.

"Hey uh do you think Fitz is at your dorm?"

Keefe nodded confidently.

"Yep! Said he was gon' study. Wouldn't come to the party because of his 'reputation' or whatever."

Around reputation he did exaggerated finger quotes, nearly knocking Tam's jacket off his shoulders.

"Hm...in that case let's go to my dorm, ok?"

Keefe shrugged, apparently willing to go along with most things in his current state. Thank goodness Linh had made Tam bring extra pillows and blankets to college, he could sleep on the floor and just hope Keefe didn't get sick on him in the night.

It was ridiculously hard to lead Keefe back to his dorm. He tried to pull down his pants halfway there and Tam almost had to carry him up the stairs but soon enough they got there. He sighed with relief as he led his inebriated friend into the room.

"Okay, you can stay here for the night. I'll sleep on the floor."

Keefe plopped himself down on Tam's bed laying flat for only a moment before sitting up with a snap and a look of realization in his eyes.

"OOH! I remember what I was gonna tell you again!"

"Oh?" Tam said playing along, expecting him to forget again.

He patted the spot next to him on the bed, Tam continued to play along, sitting next to him.

"So Marella said that I should just tell you this, and it worked for her, so I'm gonna. And uh and you have to promise to listen 'cause I'm not sayin' it again."

At this point Keefe grabbed his face with both hands, staring right in Tam's eyes and squishing his cheeks.

"You're listening right?"

Tam nodded, mostly to shake Keefe's hands off his face.

"Okay."

Keefe took in an over dramatic breath as if he was preparing to preform in the Olympics before getting another grin on his face.

"I really like you."

"You really like me?"

He nodded mumbling "mhm".

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I like you. Like, like like you."

"Like...as a friend?"

"I said I wasn't gonna repeat myself. As a booooyfriend." At this point Keefe fell back on the bed, looking at the ceiling. Tam's cheeks were burning.

"How long have you liked me like that?"

"Mmmm..." Keefe seemed to ponder for a moment, "Prolly high school."

"Oh um...good to know. You should get some rest. I'll be down here if you need me."

"Alrighty."

Tam shut off the lights and Keefe started snoring quick. Tam could only stare up in the darkness, unable to sleep.

~*~

Keefe woke up that morning in a room he didn't recognize to a killer headache and dead phone.

He turned to the side, seeing a pile of blankets and pillows with a large gatorade, bottle of tylenol, and a note next to it. Suddenly last nights memories came flooding back.

Oh, shit.

He scrambled out of bed, headache and nausea hitting him harder as he stood up.

Despite the fact his head was spinning, he picked up the note from the ground and read it.

Hey, meet me at the reservoir around 6, we need to talk -Tam

F. U. C. K.

Had he really said all that stuff last night? Surely it was a dream, right?

Oh God.

He gathered his few belongings, plus the things to help the hangover, and left the dorms as fast as possible. Only having to stop once along the way to throw up in one of the campus trash cans, hopefully no one would notice.

Keefe didn't have anything to do and he really didn't want to face Fitz so he went about his day in last nights clothing. Then again, it was a college campus. Someone walking around with rumpled clothes carrying a gatorade probably wasn't that big of a deal for most people. By 5:30 he sat impatiently in the empty park where the reservoir was located, it was colder closer to the water.

Just as promised, at 6 o'clock he saw Tam approaching on the horizon.

~*~

Tam was damn near a panic attack as he walked around the park attempting to find Keefe. Eventually he found him, sitting on a bench still in his clothes from last night, face once again ruddy from the cold. He sat next to him wordlessly.

"So," Keefe started.

"So," Tam replied, looking down at his lap.

"Tam I-" Keefe turned to face him. "I'm sorry about everything last night, I probably just made everything super awkward. Not to mention it's a giant violation of the friend code to even have a crush on your best friend's ex-"

"Yeah, about that."

"What?"

"You're gonna maybe kill me for this but uh," Tam pulled on his bangs. "I sorta talked to Fitz about it, I figured you wouldn't and apparently I was right. He said he was okay with it as long as we were ok with it."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Tam sighed, "Perhaps."

Keefe once again wore that shit-eating grin of his.

"Can I hear you say it?"

"Why don't you have to say it?"

"Already said it last night! Your turn now. Why did you take care of me while I was drunk?"

Keefe stared at Tam excitedly waiting for the answer. Tam sighed.

"Because I love you, little shit."

"Ooh you said it-"

Tam smashed his lips against Keefe's, both quickly melting into it. After only a moment they pulled away.

"Agh, you taste like gatorade and vomit."

"Well you taste like salt so really what's worse."

"Definitely the vomit."

Despite this, Tam leaned back in. This kiss was a moment longer than the last, and when Tam pulled away Keefe chased it.

"Ok, look I'm sorry but you look like shit Keefe you have to go change." Tam removed his jacket, throwing it around Keefe once again and helping him up from the bench. Keefe laughed.

"Yeah, you're right. Ooh now that we're a thing you need a new nickname!"

"I do?"

"You do, how about 'Bangs Boyf' ooh or maybe you can be my 'provoked partner' or my 'snappy spouse' my 'agitated accomplice' perhaps."

"Do you just have these ready and prepared for any situation?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets."

"You aren't Houdini, you're an 18-year-old boy that currently reeks of frat party."

"Eh that's basically the same thing. I've seen some 18-year-olds at frat parties preform tricks Houdini could never dream of."

Tam sighed dramatically. "It's a good thing you're pretty, you know."

"Hey!" Keefe jokingly shoved him.

For the first time Tam's smile wasn't repressed.

[the-bluerecluse]

Work Out

Prinxiety

Summary: Roman walks in on Virgil working out and realizes he’s so much gayer than he thought.

Roman is very gay

“Hola, Padre.” Roman greeted as he stepped into the kitchen.

“Oh, hello, Roman!” Patton replied as he continued making dinner.

Roman grabbed a hand towel and wiped the sweat off his forehead. He groaned and stretched in a not so subtle way. “Just a little worn out from my combat training. Pushed myself extra hard today.”

“Good for you, I’m proud you’re working out and taking care of yourself.” Patton smiled as he stirred his stew.

“I do it all to protect my loved ones. Know if anyone ever attacks you or any of us, I will keep my family safe.” Roman gave an exaggerated bow as Patton fondly rolled his eyes.

“If you have a sword handy.”

“I could fist fight!” Roman groused. “I just prefer to fight with a little class, and sword fighting is a gorgeous art form.”

“It sure is.” Patton chuckled. He turned off the stove and turned to Roman. “Could you go get the others for dinner?”

“Absolutely.” Roman struck a pose before prancing off to find his comrades, leaving Patton giggling at his dramatics.

The princely character made his way down the hall which held the doors to the other two’s rooms.

“Knock knock, my naysayer nerd~” Roman grinned when Logan opened the door with an unamused face. “Time for dinner.”

Logan paused before making a face. “You need a shower.”

“Oh, my apologies, see I just finished my exhausting combat training.” Roman gave a sigh and a flex.

Logan groaned. “Yes, we know you’re working out.” The teacher shut his door and walked towards the kitchen.

“Ah, that just leaves out small little stormcloud.” Roman smiled and walked towards Virgil’s door.

Just as he was about to knock he heard a large crash followed by an expletive.

“Fuck!”

That was Virgil’s voice! Did something happen?

Roman slammed the door open. “Virgil, are you alright?!”

He glanced around but didn’t see anything, but the door to his closet was open with light shining through.

“I’m coming, Virgil, don’t worry!” Roman shouted. He ran into the closet and came to a screeching halt.

First of all, his closet was huge. It was a walk in closet, but it seemed Virgil only used a small part for clothes.

Because the other half of the closet was cleared out with nothing but a large punching bag and a pull up bar.

The punching bag was fallen on the floor, crushing a few boxes.

As soon as Roman entered, Virgil turned to look at him with a tired, semi-aggitated expression.

None of that is why Roman froze up.

Virgil was shirtless, coated in sweat, and ripped.

Roman had never seen Virgil without a jacket on and-

Wow.

Virgil, though small in stature, was very clearly well built. He was wearing nothing but workout shorts. The sweat had the light glistening off abs Roman never knew his friend had. His dark bangs were barely coasting by his heterochromatic eyes, stuck to his forehead from the sweat. He had no makeup on, revealing his freckles, and his whole body gently swayed with each pant, signaling a heavy workout.

Roman could feel his jaw on the floor. Holy- wow. He was so- wow. He could... he could probably beat Roman up.

“What?” Virgil broke the long pause.

Roman blinked and his voice seemed to stop working as his face grew very hot.

Virgil waited a little more before huffing. “If you’re freaked out cause of the sound it’s just cause my bag came off the hook. Nothing’s broke.” Virgil turned to the punching bag on the floor. With a loud grunt he grabbed the bag and lugged it back onto the hook which groaned at the sudden weight.

Virgil stretched up to refasten the hook, giving Roman a generous view of everything.

“So-” Virgil grunted as he continued fastening the hook. “It’s dinner right? That’s what you came in here for?” After a moment he sighed and patted the punching bag, signaling that it was now securely fastened. “I gotta shower but then I’ll be out. Let Patton know.”

Roman just nodded and walked out of the room.

Virgil shut the door, leaving Roman standing in the hall thinking

Oh God, I’m so gay.

[sadoeuphemist]

GHOST STORIES

“We can get some great establishing shots in the foyer,” says the ghost in Bransen’s body, pacing out the creaking floorboards, framing the clouded windows with his fingers. “Real spooky. Very atmospheric. But I’m telling ya, we gotta mic the attic.” It turns his head to the ceiling, as if sensing some invisible current, like a shark following its prey, and then turns his head to me, wearing his smile. “That’s where they died. That’s where all the ghosts are.”

I give him the thumbs up and I try to smile back.

It’s been three weeks since Missouri.

---

The footage is good. No, the footage is fantastic. Lately everything we try is pure fire. Bransen’s on the screen, lit an eerie green from night vision, his pupils luminous. He is speaking as he ducks under the rafters, his voice hushed, breathless, mesmerizing. The attic is filled with shapes, shadows that shift as I follow Bransen deeper in, utterly and unmistakably haunted. I turn up the background audio.

It’s nothing at first, static. But the longer I listen I start to hear whispers, voices formed by ambient noise. Feet creaking. Muffled shrieks. Sounds so soft you might almost manage to convince yourself you were imagining things. The words of ghosts, saying everything and nothing. Rorschach blots of white noise. Hissing. Screaming. Weeping. Mourning.

A hand touches my shoulder.

“See?” says the ghost in Bransen’s body. “What’d I tell you?”

---

“So,” says Dev, “what happened with the two of you in Missouri?”

Dev is Bransen’s boyfriend. Bransen’s been insisting that we socialize more outside of work, and so here we are making small talk in his apartment while Bransen’s gone to fetch the dessert. “He, uh, he hasn’t told you anything about it?” I say, hoping to probe for more details. “You, uh, haven’t seen the footage?”

“He’s been very vague,” says Dev, rolling his eyes. “Playing coy. ‘I just decided to start appreciating what I have,’ he says. Which is nice, but, y’know. There’s got to be more to it than that.” Dev drains his glass. “And the footage, no offense, but it’s all the same, ha ha. I’ve told him that myself. The two of you wandering around in the dark, bumbling, some noise happens off-camera and then you jerk around and nobody sees anything.” He leans over, smiling. “Just tell me the two of you didn’t have a torrid affair out there, and now he’s overcompensating out of guilt.”

“I -” I’d dropped the camera when it happened. Of course. The one time something undeniably supernatural had happened, and I’d panicked and blown it. “Trust me, it’s definitely not that.”

Dev laughs, and that’s when the lights go out. Bransen enters carrying a tray of Baked Alaska, blue flames dancing eerily on its surface. “Ta-da!”

“Oh my god!” says Dev, delighted. “You are too much!”

“Gotta get in my practice,” says the ghost in Bransen’s body, grinning, supremely pleased. He sets the Baked Alaska down and Dev stands and embraces him, and I want to say, Your boyfriend’s been possessed. There’s a spirit living in his body, puppeting him, wearing him like a glove. The person you loved isn’t in there anymore.

But they are both laughing, looking in each other’s eyes, and in that moment I don’t know if it would be the truth.

---

Our newest video is trending, over half a million hits on YouTube and counting. My inbox is blowing up. I’m shaking. We’ve never done anything half this big before in all the years we’ve been doing this. Everything we’ve dreamed of when we first started out is coming true.

This is how deals with the devil work, I think. You give up your soul, and you get everything you’ve ever wanted.

I go into the bathroom to wash my face, stare at myself in the mirror, and when I come out Bransen is standing over my laptop, looking at the tab I had open on exorcisms.

“Hey,” the ghost in Bransen’s body says, and clicks back over to our YouTube page. “Not bad, huh? Ya know, buddy, I think we might finally be getting somewhere.”

I take a breath and swallow. “Is he still alive in there?” I say.

The ghost in Bransen’s body smiles, shrugs, rubs the back of his head. “Alive, dead, kinda fuzzy categories, don’t you think? That’s kinda the premise of our little peep show, isn’t it?” It casually begins to walk towards me. “Nothing ever really dies. Nothing ever really ends.”

“You can’t -” I say. Missouri. The Auden Estate. Bransen writhing on the floor, eyes rolled up into his head, a thousand tongues shrieking from his mouth. The screaming. Screaming. Screaming. “He was a person! He -”

“I was a person,” the ghost interrupts. It looks up at me with Bransen’s eyes. “And let’s face it, I’m doing better with his life than he ever did.”

“He was ...” Fuck, why is this even a debate? Why did I never think to rehearse my arguments? “Okay, he used to be a jerk, sure,” I say, my voice shaky. “But he had it rough! This whole ghost hunter channel, this was his dream, and he put so much time and effort into it, and - and we just weren’t getting any viewers, and -“

“Weren’t getting any viewers,” the ghost in Bransen’s body says, glancing back at my laptop. “That little phase in our career is over know, thanks to me. Ya know what I think his problem was? Entitlement.” It spreads Bransen’s arms, boxing me in. “Just because he was alive he thought he deserved to be happy. Deserved to be successful. Waa-waa, just because my parents didn’t love me. Just because my career choices didn’t work out. I think that entitles me to be a sullen asshole, to yell at my partner, to stew in my own misery and be a generally awful person to be around!

“Everyone in the whole damn world is suffering!” says the ghost in Bransen’s body. “ Ya gotta have a Positive Mental Attitude!  Appreciate what you’ve got! Treat each day like a new opportunity!” It leans in and I can feel its cold breath on my cheek. “Ya know what?” it says. “Life is fuckin’ wasted on the living.”

I am shaking, my knees unsteady underneath me, and it finally backs off, still smiling Bransen’s smile, and gently slaps me on the cheek. “Buddy, buddy, buddy. Keep your spirits up! We gotta upload something new, strike while the iron’s hot, take advantage of this momentum! C’mon, grab your camera. I’ve already scouted out our next location.”

It glances at my laptop as it leaves. “Oh, and that Latin shit? Sicut déficit fumus defíciant; sicut fluit cera a fácie ígnis?” It shakes Bransen’s head and laughs. “Nah, you gotta do better than that.”

---

“In 1926,” says the ghost in Bransen’s body, “all five members of the Coyder family were found murdered in their beds, all of them hacked apart with a butcher knife.” We are livestreaming, the abandoned farmstead behind him looming in the yellow grass, its windows dark, its face gray. He walks forward and I follow, the shot swaying with my footsteps like the opening to a horror movie, and I glance down at our viewer count and we are well into the thousands by now, and still rising. “Their killer was never found.”

He touches the doorknob and it creaks open into an empty house.  “This is where they died,” the ghost in Bransen’s body says, and on his cue I pan across the dusty boards, the cobwebs, the empty bed frames as if they were still dripping red with blood, thousands of eyes upon us as if decades had not passed and the Coyders were dying still, screaming still, staggering with their guts hacked out; as if all the world was full of ghosts, watching and wanting and eternal.