#and he's really chill he fixes things that the landlord says doesn't need fixing and gives good advice on how to do things ourselves

[nexus-nebulae]

i love the maintenance guy in my apt he said he's not legally allowed to move tenants' stuff to get to where he needs to but he knows my joints and muscles are fucked and was like "you didn't see me do this- I'm tired of watching you struggle" and moved the stuff for me

[weebsinstash]

When I say with my entire being in my heart of hearts that I know with certainty that this-this-this THING right here would do the absolute most unbelievable petty gross obsessive dahmer level shit to you

He's petty he's evil he's got a childlike fascination for seeing what breaks people down and I hate him I hate him I hate him but ALSO what that dick do tho? 🤔

Mahito is the yandere over here doing shit like imprisoning you for his own selfishness and perhaps genuine affection but making you live in absolute deplorable conditions because He's Not Fucking Human And He Doesn't Even Know How To Feed You. He locks you away and disappears for an entire day and comes back with like a single can of wet dog food that he watches you eat from a squatting position like 5 inches away looking at you like Harley Quinn and the egg sandwich. Motherfucker would take all your clothes because he wants to see more of "the natural shape of you" and then doesn't understand why you start shivering. Or he deliberately keeps you like that because he wants to see how long it takes you to crack and beg him for help. He wants to see the depths of your pride as you refuse to grovel, curious of the lengths you'll go, the limits of your body against the chill

This depraved fuck will do dehumanizing little emotional experiments on you where he does shit just because he wants to see how you think and feel and what you'll do and I mean like he'll do SOME REAL SHIT. I'm talking maybe he's stalking you and you can't fight or use cursed techniques and you think he's just like, a human shaped spirit or something who's just a trickster, he's not being violent or getting you alone or anything yet, and then you come home to your apartment one day and he's literally disemboweled your cat on your coffee table and he's playing with pieces of it and says you were giving it more attention than him and sits there pouting as you scream and even tries to like touch you or hold your hand or hug you with. The fucking blood covered hands. like he would be so fucked up on purpose, "awww do you need me to hold you? You're so sensitive but i dont mind :3"

This man out here like "wdym you want me to stay away from you, all I did was kill your cat kill your mom kill your neighbor kill your best friend kill your boss' cousins' landlords' newborn baby BUT WAS THAT REALLY SO BAD 🥺" and does something infinitely worse to scare/coerce you into tolerating his presence

I'm not really uh into body horror or gore but as a side detail I feel like. Uh. There's like a legitimate risk of him actually unintentionally REALLY hurting you and has to use his powers to heal you. Like the one good thing he does is if he were to have you on death's door or like horribly injured he could just. Fix it. He twists a limb in a way he doesn't know it's not supposed to go and breaks it and then puts you back together like a broken toy while ooo'ing and aaa'ing at the way your skin stretches over the grotesque misalignment. Dare I say the horror of "him putting things that are way too big or weirdly shaped in you" also yeah he's one of the things he's putting in you and he's got a really gross like fascination with learning all about that stuff

He's really living just to see how many different ways he can make you cry and how many different emotions he can get you to display, just absolutely dedicated to terrorizing you while also chasing his own internal weird repressed desire for his own sort of belonging. You could be sitting there sobbing and he's either borderline getting off on it or he's standing there MAKING FUN OF YOUR CRIES like deadass even fake crying back to you

And the worst part is he'll do all this fucking shit to you and then the night comes and he'll still be over here like "and you'll let me cuddle you while you sleep right? 👉👈" and he'll be doing that Every. Single. Night. And what are you gonna do, try and kill yourself? Have fun risking accidentally making yourself a Curse and being stuck with him basically FOREVER

[escapetothelake]

Was Laura and Bob already submitted? If no, can you please do? 🤲

sorry this took a hot minute!!

angst under the cut

who made the first move: robert approached laura first when he saw her sketching on the bench. he found her mysterious nature intriguing, and invited her to a bookshop cafe where they could talk more, surrounded by soft music and nice art.

who kissed who first: i think their first kiss was mutual. robert was sitting next to her on a park bench, his arm nervously placed around her. she looked up from her book, they locked eyes, and they both leaned in.

who started the relationship: after they went out a few times, they just kinda.. became exclusive?? robert because he genuinely felt a connection with laura, and laura for the same reason, but also because robert's presence brought her peace of mind and didn't add hassle to her life. it's nice to not be alone with your own thoughts.

who remembers things: laura has a great memory. robert is well-meaning, but can be a little forgetful when it comes to smaller things. laura gives him a notepad and a pencil and tells him to write down things he needs to remember, and sooner or later, his workspace, the fridge, and the doors in the house are littered with them.

nicknames for each other: laura goes for "bob", "rob", "robbie", or "bert". sometimes she says his name with a french accent—it's an inside joke they have. robert calls her "honey", "babe", or "my girl".

who is more likely to pay for dinner: robert has pretty steady employment, so he usually pays.

who normally cooks: laura's a better cook than robert. he likes it when she teaches him, because she always says that he has the capabilities to become better if he puts his mind to it.

who remembers anniversaries: they both do.

what would they get each other for gifts: robert likes to get laura flowers, books, or art supplies. he also gets her music pieces, records, or tapes. laura's the kind of person who gives drawings or works of art for gifts. she has a bunch of old books as well, and she learned to make art pieces with them.

most trivial thing they fight over: not that this is trivial, but laura tends to isolate herself, or "wander off" for a while and not leave any notice or tell robert where she's going. robert gets concerned, and laura feels that he's being overbearing.

how often do they fight: they're both pretty chill, so they don't fight that often.

who uses all the hot water: laura loves a good bath. her and robert sometimes bathe together, too.

who calls up the super/landlord when the heat’s not working: laura has to, or bob will try to fix it himself.

who leaves their stuff around: laura kinda shoves her stuff into drawers, but keeps a pretty neat and minimalistic house. when robert's stressed, he'll leave his stuff laying around.

who remembers to buy the milk: when robert's going out for work, laura will usually say, "bob, we need milk." she just hopes he'll remember to actually pick it up.

who controls the netflix queue: they're the kind of couple to watch the same shows—usually one or two episodes a night. robert mostly adapted to laura's tastes, though. i could see them watching thrillers, mystery, drama, documentaries, and the like.

who steals the covers at night: laura. robert sleeps pretty still. sometimes she'll wake him up by accidentally kicking him in her sleep.

who cusses more: if laura's really irked, she swears like a sailor. she's pretty chill most of the time, but she has mild road rage tendencies. there have been a couple of times that robert had to stop her from getting into a fight.

who does most of the cleaning: they try to split domestic tasks, but since bob works more, laura usually takes over.

what’s their favorite non-sexual activity: doing artistic activities together. sometimes they'll draw each other, or read with their legs all tangled up together.

who’s the cuddler: robert. sometimes, he holds laura like she's gonna go somewhere. laura doesn't really mind his clingy tendencies, so she kinda just lets him hold her.

who’s the big spoon/little spoon: usually it's robert big, laura little.

who’s more dominant: mostly laura. robert will do anything she asks, in and out of the bedroom.

who is the dirty talker: bob mostly uses affirmation/praise phrases. laura is more of the "dirty talker".

what do they do when they’re away from each other: laura's pretty independent, so she doesn't mind being away from bob all that much. in fact, she actually enjoys having alone time every once in a while, especially because it helps her creatively. on the other hand, being away from laura makes bob a little uneasy. he likes to call her every so often, just to check in.

what would they do if the other one was hurt: bob kinda likes being taken care of and "babied" by laura because it makes him feel safe and wanted. in that sense, when she's caring for him while he's sick and/or injured, he enjoys the attention. if laura were sick or hurt, bob would be a little more distressed, but he likes to have the chance to cook for her and care for her in return. he sees it as an opportunity to show his affection.

a headcanon: occasionally, laura will leave little drawings around for bob. it's almost like a game at this point—he likes to see if he can find them all. sometimes she'll doodle on a sticky note and slide it in his notes, his books, in his coat, his shoe, his lunch, or some object in the house. she really enjoys the excitement he expresses when he find them. in return, he began to write loving little notes on the back of the drawings and re-hide them among her things. at first, it was pretty surprising to laura, but she keeps them all.

after her death, dale finds a box in her house full of little notes with drawings on one side, and affectionate phrases on the back. he puts two and two together and realizes that they were co-made with robert, and his realization is confirmed after a handwriting analysis. after robert is cleared of suspicion of murder, dale gives him back a number of laura's possessions, the box with the notes included. dale excuses himself from the room, but not before he hears the box open and robert begin to sob.

[lavenoon]

Dynamic Swap AU - Rival Neighbors and Work Besties

~5200 words, enjoy

Main Dynamic Swap

The work besties: so Robin in this case does not immediately go on the defense, but rather feels a sort of kinship. They too rose the ranks quickly, earning their title as star agent, while being met with scorn from other agents - and perhaps there’s (initially) just that crumb of “keep your friends close and your enemies closer” kind of motivation. So they approach Dusk and act friendly enough, because even if he turns out better than them, that’s not enough to strip them of their rank and this Robin gets to use those brain cells. 

They propose a team-up, and Dusk is a little wary because the other agents really weren’t that welcoming, and this is a little too good to be true, so he doesn’t mention Dawn until it later seems awkward to bring it up. But while they aren’t really friends, as friendly as they act, in the beginning, they soon warm up to each other when they actually witness each other’s goofiness. 

Robin is absolutely on board for the cheesiness of “go to sleep” bs with hostiles and doesn't try to hide it, and Dusk may tease them for their novelty gadgets but always asks for theirs first before he tries his boring ones. Robin gets him his own then, and he workshops (begrudgingly - he throws in more than enough bird jokes, too) Robin Hood themed lines with them. They enable each other and somehow it works out, and they’re absolutely terrible to look at for everyone else because they apparently can’t take anything seriously but still get shit done. They thrive. 

For the neighbors, the set up stays the same - Y/N is the landlord, but because they already have a friend in Dusk they aren’t all that lonely and thus don’t try to befriend Sun as much, and Sun is maybe a little jealous of Moon but does not have a proper outlet for that. They don’t get off on the wrong foot - it’s a gradual “oh, we’re doing this, huh?” as they *also* enable each other but make each other worse. 

Y/N, slightly teasing, slightly seriously mentioning the noise and Sun still opting for DIY as excuse - and Y/N joking like “didnt take you for the crafty type.” The birdhouse shows up in the garden without any asking for permission, as a passive aggressive “I'll show you who’s not the crafty type” and Y/N just adds a (store bought) feeder to actually attract birds, and when Sun says he could have built one they just shrug and say both house and feeder do their job, which to Sun comes across as “your work isn't worth the effort” while Y/N meant “it works, and I wasn't gonna ask you for more (since we don't get along)”. 

Lots of passive aggressive jabs at Y/N for not being a good landlord and kind of fumbling, which does set them off a good bunch and make them shoot back with their own petty comments of how he chose to move in, and if he wants a better landlord he’s welcome to look for one. With the rent as low as it is, that’s never happening - though both sometimes leave these conversations wondering just where they went wrong, and if this is just how things are now, and why can’t they just bite their (metaphorical) tongue or ask to start over? They see each other interact with other civilians sometimes and be perfectly friendly, and it stings because then all the animosity feels personal, and they don't know how to stop. 

Meanwhile Sun complains to Moon about their landlord, who decides that he better stays out of sight because oof this is already a shitshow, no need to add to that. 

Robin also sometimes complains about their neighbor, mostly with exaggerated sighs and “there's just no pleasing that guy.” Only sometimes do they seem actually sad, but he tends to distract them with a race or an idea for a little prank to play (which Robin does not do, they do mention they don't wanna make things worse, and actually would like to fix things, it’s just that their neighbor doesn't seem to care or want to - but the hypotheticals make them laugh)

Stabbing: uh. chill, as far as a stabbing can go. There’s no tension between Dusk and Robin, they're not put off by his very insistent fretting, and he’s not as tsundere about his concern as in canon. Actually it’s Moon who proposes the idea of a gift basket when Sun is worrying over how he should handle their landlord getting appendicitis - he’s researched, and it sounds really painful, and even dangerous if left unchecked and they just said they'd stay at the hospital for a while and what if there's complications - 

Moon is just having the “non judgemental but very aware gaze face on all levels except physical. Says hey, he’s gonna get Robin a gift basket, and if Sun is so busy being a mother hen (“I’m not! That’s a totally normal amount of concern to have!”) he can grab one for the landlord, too. Maybe a more generic one, something a bit more low-key. Sun still adds a little personalized card and writes how “the house is in good hands” and he means well but Y/N is cranky and was stabbed and kinda assumes the worst, and comes back to work to grumble about how their tenant got all cocky while they were incapacitated. 

Sick Day: Moon is definitely still fretting up a storm, and pestering River about at least telling him that Robin is fine. River is so so tired fr. Sun meanwhile hears Y/N cough n all, and glares daggers at the canned soups he got but has been (ironically) too chicken to deliver. 

He catches them once taking out the trash - rushing outside himself (but not letting it show), and just kind of tells them to drop the bags, he’ll do it - they should be inside and resting, sick as they are, they aren't doing themself any favors like this. They kinda snap back how suddenly he cares, but they’re not an invalid and can take care of their trash themself. 

They argue for a bit, as they usually do, before Y/N’s phone pings and they just. immediately soften and laugh at whatever message they got. Sun near flinches - that’s what he could have had, if they didn't hate him. If he hadn't messed things up. He softens too, but mostly because he just deflates. Mumbles how really, he’ll take care of that, and it’s the least he could do. 

The wording kind of catches Y/N off guard, and they eye him warily for a bit before they sigh and admit that fine, maybe they will go inside and take a nap. They mumble a low “thanks” as they pass him, and later wake up to a few cans of soup in front of their door, though neither of them mentions it again. Dusk gets to hear about Robins flu, and this is the timeline where he finally gets to make an unholy amount of bird flu jokes 

Overtime: Ehehe. Hah. Oh poor Sunny. Remember how Hatchling Robin wasn't even sure their neighbor likes them? (: 

So Sun is definitely wearing a hole in their carpet from his pacing, and he’s very close to considering making up a fake issue to have a reason to text Y/N and make them come back home, because he is too stupid to find a more reasonable approach. Moon sighs, and tells him to “sleep” on it, and then goes to work and finds Robin buried in paperwork. Asks them what they think they’re doing, and they just whine about how they've been slacking off and gotten distracted, and they need to finish these asap. 

Dusk kinda settles on their desk, half sitting half leaning, and asks them wouldn't their friends be concerned if they saw them like that? 

Robin deadpans “Dude, you answered your own question by the way you barged in here” and Dusk kinda just. 

stops. 

Continues quieter, more serious - he’s the only one? there's really no one else? Robin just shrugs, staring at the report, and he gets really really cold. Asks if they don't even think their neighbor/ tenant would miss them - surely he can't be that bad? And they just laugh, but there's no mirth in it. 

“Yeah, hah, no. He hates me, pretty sure he’s celebrating having the place to himself right now.” 

Dusk still thinks of Sun, and how he’s worried despite the animosity, and tries for a bit of forced lightheartedness at the totally unrelated but similar situation. 

“Eh, maybe he’s just a dumbass. I mean, he definitely is. But maybe he’s even *more* of one about being worried. Pretty sure if you leave without warning anyone would be concerned.” 

“God, I wish. Would be nice.” 

That still kinda stings, somehow - so he has to be a little shit to distract them from the what-ifs. 

“Ignoring him, though. I don't want you to overwork yourself. Go home and rest, for me?” 

And he crouches in front of their desk, hands curled around the edge, only his optics visible as he blinks in his best attempt of puppy eyes. Robin is sleep deprived and also bestie biased and absolutely loses it, “you’re lucky I like you” and he grins like the cat with the cream. 

Sun is very happy he didn't have to resort to anything ill advised, and mentions he’d appreciate a heads up should it happen again, which Y/N kind of bristles about but reluctantly agrees to

Reveal scenario would be something like. idk. Y/N and Sun accidentally meet at a little market, and Sun sees them buy maybe a bandana or something, or a little trinket. Something celestial themed, and he makes a comment about it, and they just roll their eyes. Mention it's got nothing to do with him, they actually have friends, so if he’d please just move on - 

And they do leave it at that, the two. But after Robin gifts Dusk said trinket and he comes back home with it on, Sun has a very very dreadful realization. Sun is freaking out because he’s been antagonizing another star agent who of course has a busy schedule and doesn't have all that much time for landlord duties, they actually have to sleep too! Knows from Moon however that apparently they don't really hate them, and would like to fix things, but just didn't know how. 

Moon on the other hand… Moon kept himself a deliberate secret, and is very very worried that their friendship won't survive that reveal, plus the concern about the agency and them living together. Robin was so open with him, and still he didn't realize - and he kinda blames himself for that. They try to figure out how to tell Y/N, but of course they stall for too long. 

Y/N, usually not the chattiest with other neighbors, maybe has to pick up a package or hand one out that was wrongly delivered to their address, and get talking with another neighbor. That neighbor does say that their tenants are quite nice, even though that moon animatronic is rather elusive! Record scratch, freeze frame - right, the, uh, moon animatronic. That one. When - when did they meet him? 

“Oh, not really met him, really, but I saw him pull up the trash cans once or twice in the morning when I forgot to put them out. Say, why does he wear a nightcap?” 

Y/N just fumbles for something not entirely impolite before scrambling for an excuse about food in the oven and having to leave. They rush back home, where Sun for plot reasons happens to be on the porch. They look at each other, startled for a moment before Sun is the one to soften and Y/N just hardens. Before Sun can say anything they start opening their door already, head low, and just mumble “You really thought I’m that stupid, huh? Congrats, you were right. Or maybe you just hate me that much.” 

Sun by now is familiar with dread, but has to ask - what are they talking about? 

Door open, and they just look at him, expression just so so tired and hurt, and just say “Moon.” before stepping inside and slamming the door shut. The lock clicks, and Sun’s knocks and panicked string of “no”s goes unanswered. 

To Y/N, this is all their worst fears combined. Sun never even liked or respected them enough to tell them that there’s a whole other person living there, obviously that whole everything is doomed. There’s also the friendship with Dusk that is now just terrifying in its implications - does he know? Why did he never tell them that he moved in at their place, did he think it’s funny that they don't know? What about Sun - is he an agent too? Does he know they’re Robin? 

They hide out at home for a day, securing a longer mission that will “give them time to think'' as they'll be out for a few days. 

They return to a desperate little plea to talk in their work pigeonhole, confirming that both know about their work identity, and also the gossip about Dusk and Dawn being out of commission after being blown up. 

That’s not what Robin wants, at all. They still are terrified the boys both hate them, or just toyed with them, but they push that aside as they rush home because even if they don't actually care for Robin, Robin cares for them and doesn't want them hurt

They kind of trip onto the porch just in time to see Moon pick up a couple packages left on the porch, both kinda startled and Y/N just has that deja vu to like a couple days before with Sun.

Kinda crumble right there, crying in relief but not really looking, too caught up in the adrenaline before Moon hesitantly asks if they want to come in. Y/N stares for a moment - but then just nods. It’s awkward, and they kind of want to help him carry stuff but don't know how to offer, and Moon wants to offer a tissue but his one arm is kind of occupied. 

They talk just a bit - get the roughest bits out first. Moon reassures them that he didn't know until the trinket Sun recognized, and Y/N confirms they aren't actually mad, they were just scared that both of them hate them. Moon then gets to tell them that Sun felt about Y/N the same way Robin felt about their tenant - sad, mostly, and unsure how to fix things, but definitely willing. Tells them a little joke about how much of a drama king Sun was about it all, and that actually, please, would they talk to the guy? The whining really gets annoying after a while. 

And Y/N laughs a little teary eyed, but hesitantly agrees - it’s a lot more awkward for the neighbors then, and they don't even talk about the reveal at first because they have to address the misunderstandings from the beginning first, and both admit they kinda got carried away and never meant for things to end up like this. 

They kinda shake on a do over with the newly reattached arm before Y/N pulls him in for a hug - they squeeze and tell him “next time you wanna try again, please know you can just ask. Don’t get blown up again.” Sun startles, then laughs before he melts into the hug, and assures them that he’d rather not have a repeat of any of this except this hug. 

Switch back to Moon, where the two get to talk out the lingering, smaller worries, and then also get a hug because fairs fair, and they discuss how the agency fucked up and cant tell either of them to move out now, and kind of settle for “we know each other, and we have each other, and if the agency has an issue with that, they'll be down three agents” and then. shenanigans

Reverse Dynamic Swap AU

work besties: Oh my god. Oh my god. These two istg. So Robin has the same motivation as with Dusk for approaching Dawn, who may also be wary of the unfamiliar goodwill, but is a suave bastard all in all. There’s no ankle grabbing because Robin isn’t a cocky little shit, and quickly appreciates Dawn’s flair for the dramatic that complements their own. He thinks their gadgets are charming and do their job well, and he thrives on the validation after going without it during his training period. 

He’s really easy to win over and Robin does so easily, and then these two hit friendship really quickly and then just as quickly the “flirts with you but just kidding haha unless?” stage. They pet name it up and mean all of it, but never confirm anything bc. Yeah workplace relationships are really not on the table (laughs in author) so they just. don’t mention it and wave off the other’s flirting as just for the bit. 

They pine a lot but also are so handsy during missions like the besties really have it so much easier in reverse au, just that this time Dawn gets the easy relationship with Robin. They just have a sort of shockwave reaction on other agents where everyone looks at them and cringes so hard they just have to keep a distance (/hj), but they definitely thrive too 

petty ass neighbors: Moon is prickly. He’s lonely, he only hears from Sun how much fun his other partner is, he’s jealous, he’s an introverted nocturnal shut-in, and maybe he snaps at the nice landlord trying to talk to him when he gets the impression they overstep when they ask about the noise level. Y/N is not desperate for a friend and just. Immediately takes the hint and backs off. 

It doesn’t really get much worse, but. Similarly to rival Dawn’s ankle-grabbing, Moon already set the precedent and will regret it for a long time. Y/N mostly avoids him, and when they have to deal with him, they’re short and or passive aggressive and petty, and he mirrors that because he is lonely, yes, but he tells himself he’s not that desperate, and here too both kind of leave these interactions and wonder where they went wrong. Do they just not click? Or is this salvageable? But if the latter, how would they go about this when the other party seems so absolutely against it? 

Their most positive “interaction” is when Moon doesn't technically admit to DIY as excuse, but just puts up a bird feeder in the backyard that Y/N keeps refilling because they kind of like the chirping and also feel like it’s at least proof that Moon isn’t really an asshole he just apparently can't stand them

Moon wallows in self pity and also wonders if maybe he’s just bad at people and not made to have friends - and Sun can hardly comfort him, because he’s got it so easy with his crush friend. Instead Sun opts for talking smack about Y/N, trying to turn it around and make them the one unfit for people, and Moon half-heartedly takes it as comfort

Robin sometimes sighs about their prickly tenant who just seems to have decided he hates them from day one, and Dawn (forever causing problems even when things go well) just smoothly swoops in and declares “Why even worry about him, darling, when you have me?” with Robin joking along the lines of “So true, why don't you move in with me?” “Alas, the rules…” “Alas indeed.” 

They’re all still idiots. 

Stabbing: Similarly to main dynamic swap, there’s no tension in caring for Dawn and Robin, and his concern cranks up to 11 as a result. Robin nearly has to reassure him, and promises him to be back soon. 

Moon frets, but doesn’t know how to even go about showing that concern, so Sun suggests the gift baskets - he’s getting one for Robin already (with the balloons and the flowers and Robin jokes about how the hospital staff asked if their partner sent it and they just semi-affirmatively laughed it off without explaining what kind of partner), and Moon just… Picks a small one and no card or anything, because he’s awkward, and Y/N just reads it as “ah, doing what’s polite/ adhering to social norms and that's it, he doesn't really care” (which Dawn insists his own gift basket more than made up for that, no?) 

Sick Day: River is dying, because Dawn is back with his concern and trying to charm his way into getting information she refuses to give out. Someone help her please. 

Moon hears Y/N, but doesn’t really dare to do anything - probably also has the canned soup, because those don't go bad and he’s a bit too unsure whether or not he’ll have the metaphorical guts to give them the food to go for something that would expire quickly. But when he hears them cough louder than before, and he checks the balcony, he finds them wrapped in a blanket sitting on theirs, watching the backyard (the feeder, to be exact, but he doesn't realize yet). 

“You should be inside, it’s getting cold.” 

“That’s what the blanket is for.” 

“Still -” 

“What do you care, anyway?” 

He doesn’t really have an answer for that. Their phone pings, and they deflate under their blanket as they smile at the screen with a small sigh. Get up, and mumble something about fine, they'll go inside, balcony’s all his. There’s no birds anyway. That’s when he looks and sees the feeder is out of food, because Y/N was too sick to refill. 

He makes up his mind - and while Y/N is busy being confused by their doorbell ringing to the very subtle anonymous canned soup delivery, he’s sneaking into the garden to refill the birdseed, and when Y/N goes to bed that evening they hear a few birds chirp, and wake up to even more. Neither really mentions it, though the gesture is not forgotten

Overtime: Moon’s starting to stack his anxieties now, after Y/N’s hospital visit and their flu and now their mysterious disappearance his regret at how he handled that initial noise complaint really starts to grate at him. He withdraws further and doesn't even consider contacting Y/N lest he pushes them away further, and Sun tries to reassure him that surely their absence has nothing to do with him. 

Dawn meanwhile doesn't pull any metaphorical punches and point blank tells Robin that he doesn't like how reckless they are with their health and they whine how they know, but fortunately being pretty is not a free pass to not do their paperwork, as he would know best.

“Flattery will not get you out of this, darling. I don’t enjoy seeing you like this.” 

“Guess with eyebags like these I stopped being pretty a while ago anyway.” 

He tilts up their head, making them look at him instead of their paperwork. 

“You always are, dear. But I’m sure I’m not the only one concerned with your lack of self care, and I think you should sleep in an actual bed to recover.” 

Robin glances away, half frowning - and he probes again, what's on their mind? Well, first they wanted to say he is the only one, but… they don’t actually know, because their tenant actually did something nice for them the other time and they're really not sure what to make of him. 

Dawn is bristling just a bit - that’s his little thief, and that tenant really has too bad of a track record to steal them away. But then he thinks of Moon, and sighs. 

“Maybe he’s just not used to people, and doesn’t know how to handle things. Maybe you should go home and reassure him you haven't suddenly died, just in case. I’ll see you after you've had a full night of sleep, and if you don’t look better then I’ll be forced to take drastic measures.” 

“Like?” 

“Hmm, maybe I’ll have to kiss it better.” 

“Well, don’t threaten me with a good time -” 

“You’re delirious, darling. Go sleep, and we’ll talk.” 

Moon, when he next sees Y/N at home, just relaxes on the spot and sighs a little “You’re okay.” and Y/N kind of. ducks their head and mumbles a little sorry, and how they'll let him know next time if they stay out for a couple days. 

Reveal wise they get the sped up version too - Moon doesn't see Y/N get the matching trinkets, because it’s Robin who pickpockets them on the job. Maybe a little suncatcher, for the joke - or even a windchime, for the challenge. Point is, they get one for Dawn and one for themself, and when they get home they’re ready to put it up in the backyard (in a suncatcher’s case, far away enough from the feeder to not scare away the birds). Moon catches them, and recognizes the trinket, and before he can stop himself he blurts out 

“You’re Robin?” 

Y/N of course freezes, and turns to him with a stonewall of an expression, too caught up in the whiplash their mood just went through from happy to absolutely terrified. Moon reacts similarly - he takes a few steps back, tense and wide eyed, and starts apologizing. Suddenly a lot clicks into place, but now he might not have ruined any chance he could have still had with Y/N, but also ruined Sun’s friendship with them because of his blunder. 

Y/N meanwhile glances from him to something behind him, slightly in their periphery - the match to the trinket they’re still holding, dangling in the boys’ window. A lot clicks into place for them, too. 

“Moon.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to -” 

“Moon. It’s okay. Let’s talk inside, before the neighbors hear.” 

The walk back into Y/N’s half of the house feels somewhat like a walk to the gallows, for both of them. Moon wakes up Sun and frantically conveys as much as possible in a few seconds, which. does not go over well. 

Sun is freaking out, Moon is freaking out, and while Y/N is busy shutting the door, he collapses, hands on his head as he tries to keep the sun rays in that do their best to jut out as both fight for control, driven by the urge to fix things or run or somehow be less alone, maybe all of it.

Now Y/N is freaking out too - they kneel in front of him, just hovering, watching his eyes flicker. They may not know the boys history, may not know about Eclipse, but they realize that whatever this is, it isn’t good. 

“Moon, Moon, I swear you’re okay, it’s not your fault, I’m not mad.” 

When that doesn’t help, they get out the big guns. 

“Can you look around the room and find five things I’ve stolen on the job?” 

It does reach him, but only because he feels they should know that the expert is currently screaming inside of his head, too. Not in so many words, however, as he’s still too close to a panic attack.

“Sun knows. Can tell me. Cheating.” 

Sun, huh? Should have known.

“No shit, sherlock. Tell him he gotta tell you what job it’s from, and you gotta tell me, so focus on that anyway.” 

And the boys do, and manage - and feel a little calmer after. Still all wound up, and Moon’s wringing his hands and Sun is quietly and mentally pacing, but Y/N manages half a smile. 

“Better now?” 

Just a nod in return. 

“Okay. Okay, so I’m assuming you’re an agent too, and somehow I just. Missed that entirely. Because I’m an idiot.” 

“Not an idiot.” 

“Little bit of an idiot.” 

“Not an idiot.”

Y/N makes note of the fact that even in a semiverbal state Moon insists on them not insulting themself, and earlier, keeping things fair and transparent. Their grin grows slightly exasperated, if amused. 

“I’m saying this lightheartedly, and I’m not having a panic attack about it. Which I would like to address - just how badly did you think I’d react?” 

Moon only ducks his head, staring at his hands. 

“Moon?” 

“Hate me.” 

And Y/N’s heart kind of drops. They get it, they do - after all they thought the same from him, except he did things that proved that assumption wrong, and they… They didn’t really do anything. 

“I don’t hate you. I thought - I used to think you hate me. I don’t, not anymore - and I’m sorry I didn’t do anything to make you realize I don’t hate you either.” 

He’s looking at them then, and they smile, eyebrows turned up, half pleading. 

“You feeling okay enough for some touch?” 

They’re thinking of prying his hands away from each other, and maybe rubbing some soothing circles on the back of them. But when he nods, almost sharply, more mechanically than usual, he just half leans forward, arms opening in that silent request, and well, they can't really say no to that. Don't want to, either. So the soothing circles they rub on his back, full stop. He’s trembling at the start, but it subsides quickly, and then he mumbles “Still sorry.”

“And I’m still a little bit of an idiot, and we’ll just have to agree to disagree.” 

His reaction is just the closest to a growl they hear from him, and they decide that the agree to disagree is on thin ice, and they better change the topic. 

“Sun’s there, too?” 

Another sharp nod against them, and then Moon shifts in their hold - and also switches. He needs some time to just process, too, without the pressure of being the one in control. 

Sun starts withdrawing from the hug, but Y/N pulls him back in. 

“You’re really not angry?” 

He sounds so much smaller than they’ve ever heard him, so they squeeze him as they chuckle. 

“If you give me a couple minutes to process all of this, I’ll think it’s hilarious. Why would I be mad you’re living here? Think we joked about how great that’d be multiple times before. We’ll figure it out.”

Sun is responsible for intel, looking for inconsistencies and hints to piece information together. Something nags at him.

“HQ never interfered.” 

“So as long as we don't tell them anything that might force them to act, they probably won't.” 

They’re on the same page - and they will figure it out. Sun embraces the hug then, pulling them closer, and just drinks in the reassurance. Moon does end up calling out of work that night, and they spent the time talking things out, but things are looking up for all of them now

[lewistoferrari]

title: not your usual [redacted] story pairing: johnny x plus-sized fem!reader summary: there’s a reason why he won’t leave. cw: smut with feelings, johnny being a menace to society words: 3k+

you really shouldn't be surprised to see your neighbor johnny chilling on your couch when you walk through the door, but you are.

you could have sworn you told him you wanted to be alone today.

that man has a habit of loitering in your apartment whenever you’re out. you’d be so irritated whenever you came home to see him lounging on your couch, as if he was the one paying the damn bills around here. you've told him to fuck off plenty of times, but he refuses. and it’s not like you can have him physically removed either.

try it if ye wan’ to, hen.

you’ve filed multiple complaints with your landlord, but he just looks at you like you’re crazy, before asking you if you’re unwell. because you weren’t sure what he meant by that, you stopped coming to him. maybe he was the crazy one.

fed up, you threatened to call the cops on johnny’s ass. your threats did nothing to keep him away though, it only made him worse. walking around your apartment with his stupid boots on, even though you’ve asked him a thousand times to take them off. rearranging things on your coffee table, opening your mail, stealing your underwear, and snooping through your personal items. hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he slept in your bed whenever you were away.

you think johnny’s favorite thing to do, just to further the torment, is to throw away your toys. and it’s even worse when he makes slick comments about you needing a real cock in your pussy. at the time, you were so stunned, your words had failed you when you tried to tell him off.

and then there’s his mouth. johnny’s a yapper. he never stops talking, whether it’s about the military, his family, or his friends. any information you didn’t ask for, he’ll tell you all about it anyway. sometimes you find his incessant talking endearing. it made you feel less lonely in your apartment. other times, you really wish you could glue his mouth shut for a few hours, just to have some quiet time.

you think the most off putting thing about johnny is the creepy shit he does, things that make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. it always has you thinking he’s not entirely human. the unnerving staring, when he's lying down and his body is perfectly still, too still for it to be considered normal. or when johnny doesn't blink at all, and you’ve convinced yourself that there’s something terribly wrong with him. and he’s always looming when he’s close to you. it scares the shit out of you, but you never bring it up.

if you didn’t know any better, you’d say johnny mactavish was haunting you.

when johnny gives you a lazy wave, you don’t bother getting yourself worked up, as you breeze past him to get to your bedroom. all you do is offer him two words, “get out."

johnny follows you like a damn puppy of course. "bunny, ye dinnae mean that,” he whines, a pout already forming on his lips while he’s leaning against your doorframe.

you fix him with a glare when you hear the nickname he’s given you. “how many times do i have to tell you to stop calling me that? and i meant every word, johnny. go home.” you’re exhausted and you just want some peace and quiet. you want him to leave.

but johnny doesn’t leave. he’s told you time and time again he doesn’t answer to you.

asshole, you think to yourself, before rolling your eyes at him.

your peace lasts for all of five minutes, before johnny starts touching your shit. you’re rummaging through your closet, when you hear your dresser drawers being slammed shut. when you turn your head, your eyes narrow in suspicion at the sight of johnny feigning innocence, as if he didn’t just have his hands on a pair of your panties.

“do i come to your house and meddle in your shit? stay out of my dresser, johnny!” you can feel a scream trying to work its way out of your mouth, but you suppress it. you really wish he would go terrorize someone else.

yeah right, as if that’ll ever happen.

your eye actually twitches when he flings himself onto your bed and gets comfortable. you’re obviously staring at him longer than you should be, because your breath hitches a little when his shirt rides up, giving you a lovely view of muscles and body hair. your not so subtle staring turns into full blown gawking when johnny slips a hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, making your mouth go dry the same time slick starts to gather in your panties.

shit.

you snap out of it when you realize that this is johnny you’re ogling. “get out of my bed, mactavish.” your words come out colder than intended. you try not to shrink away when piercing blue eyes meet your gaze.

“what’s wi’ that attitude of yers, bunny?” johnny asks coolly. there’s an edge to his tone and a tick in his jaw. “need me tae fuck it out of ye?” he snorts at the scandalized look you give him.

“as if i would ever let you touch me!”

that was over 24 hours ago when you made that statement, and now here you were on your back, pussy wet, and full of want while johnny took his sweet time exploring your soft body.

"why are you so damn cold?" you hiss when two large hands cups your tits, a whine leaving your throat when the hands are suddenly replaced by johnny’s hot, wet mouth.

he ignores your question, hoping you won’t ask again. it’s not like you can anyway, with the way he’s distracting you with his mouth. he licks and sucks your nipples until they’re covered in his saliva. a soft laugh slips past his lips when your fingers sink into his overgrown mohawk, as you drag him up for a kiss.

johnny puts everything into the kiss. he’s nipping at your bottom lip and doing his best to shove his tongue down your throat. you pull away to gasp softly when his thick fingers slip between your slick folds, letting out a pitiful sound of disappointment when he removes them almost immediately. and then he’s pressing those glistening fingers to your lips and telling you to open up. when you don’t move fast enough, he pries your mouth open then slips his fingers in.

“taste yerself, bun.” you do as you’re told, sucking your own pussy juice off johnny’s fingers. you ignore the way your heart flutters when he coos at you and calls you his good girl and tells that he would have done this sooner if it would have kept you from hissing and spitting at him like a damn cat. he’s got you right where he wants you, in bed and eager to take his cock.

johnny loves the way you whine and spread your legs wider for him when he drags his cock up and down your sticky folds, smearing precum all over your pussy. you have to stop yourself from begging, when he teases your hole with the tip of his cock. he does it repeatedly, until you’re blinking away tears of frustration.

you sniffle when he cups your jaw and says in a sickeningly sweet tone, “poor bunny, thought ye hated me. now look at ye beggin’ for mah cock.” the laugh he lets out is mean and it hurts your feelings.

“please,” you whimper, voice cracking and eyes full of tears. “i don’t hate you, johnny.” you may be telling the truth, but he looks a bit skeptical.

you open your mouth to speak again, but johnny’s already feeding his cock into your pussy, inch by inch, and groaning because of how wet and tight you are. the way your spongy walls clench around him when he’s fully engulfed, is enough to make his head spin.

“fuck, bunny. ye feel so good stretched out aroun’ mah cock,” johnny moans in your ear. “feels like this cunt was made f’me.”

the first thrust knocks the air out of your lungs and has you shrieking and clawing at the skin on johnny’s back. “do that again,” you beg breathlessly, not caring if you sound desperate. you want him to ruin you.

like the obedient mutt he is, johnny obeys, and does it again and again and again, until you’re wailing and creaming around his cock. you’re a bit shocked at how fast your orgasm crept up on you. not offering you any respite, johnny demands for you to give him one more, and you almost tell him that you’ll give him anything, as long as he keeps fucking you like this. he’s fucking you like it’s his last night on earth, his fingers intertwined with yours, while he moans and pants in your ear. johnny’s fat cock pistoning in and out of your fat pussy while he hits your g-spot repeatedly is almost too much for you to handle.

all you can do you is cry and writhe up under johnny while he gives you the best dick of your life. your pussy nearly strangles him to death when he chants mine mine mine with every snap of his hips. you're not his. you can't be, you refuse. and yet, when johnny asks whose pussy is this? you sob and tell him, it’s yours, johnny.

“what about ye?” he asks through gritted teeth, “yer mine, yeah?”

there’s no hesitation in your voice when you answer with a breathy, “yes, i’m yours.”

deep down, you feel like you’ve bonded yourself to him with those three words.

“thas’ right, bunny. mine. gonna keep ye forever,” johnny snarls, before sinking his teeth into the soft skin of your throat and giving a powerful thrust that has you howling his name and digging your nails into his back.

he’s marking you as his.

you’ll panic later when you’re not getting fucked stupid and johnny’s thick fingers aren’t toying with your puffy clit. he doesn’t stop rubbing your sensitive bud until your back is arching and your thighs are shaking, as your orgasm hits you like a freight train.

“ye okay, bunny?” johnny asks once you can breathe again. his brow is furrowed in concentration and his forehead is slick with sweat while he continues to grind into your pussy, groaning at the filthy squelching sounds coming from between your thighs.

you answer with a garbled moan. how are you supposed to give him a coherent response when his cock is making you see stars and driving you insane.

johnny lets out a huff of laughter, before he rolls off of you and pulls you on top of him, using one hand to guide his length back into your slick pussy. “c’mon bunny, be nice for once and fuck me.”

soft cries spill from your lips when you start to grind your overstimulated pussy on johnny’s cock. with your head tossed back, you can’t see the way he stares up at you in complete and utter adoration. he’s enjoying the way your tits and belly bounce while you ride his leaking cock, and the way you cry out his name and claw at his chest. johnny’s so enamored with you and you don’t even know it.

he still hasn’t worked up the courage to tell you his secret, something he should have told you before you let him touch you. he’s been wanting to for weeks, but he’s never found the right time to do so. it’s getting harder for him to keep a lid on it. simon keeps telling him to end it. she’ll go running for the hills when she finds out what you are. he told johnny to stop coming by your place, to leave you alone and let you live your life. but johnny’s selfish. he’ll never leave let you go, especially now that he’s finally got you split open on his cock.

“fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” johnny moans, his grip on the your hips almost painful.

you cum before he does, pussy spasming and choking his cock while you moan his name, “johnny!”

the way you say his name unlocks something in him. johnny holds you close to his chest, murmuring soft words against your lips that you don’t even think are being spoken in english, thrusts becoming more frenzied as he fucks up into your worn out pussy. he doesn’t stop until up his thrusts become sloppy and his hips stutter. the drawn out moan that leaves his throat when he fills you to the brim with his cum is like music to your ears.

when johnny comes down, he strokes his hands up and down your back. he asks you if you’re okay, and all you can do is whimper. you’re a little surprised at how sweet he is with aftercare, bathing you and helping you get dressed before he puts you to bed. and the last thing you feel before you fall asleep, is a pair of cool lips on your forehead.

“you sure you gave me the correct name? there are no tenants in the building who goes by the name johnny. i've checked the records several times for previous tenants as well."

what?

"i don't understand," you blurt out, sounding as confused as you probably look. "this isn't making sense. what about the name john? have you tried that?”

"i did that as well,” your landlord says. he gives you a look of concern when you let out a groan. “are you sure this johnny person isn’t a squatter?”

he can’t be. johnny knows too much about the people and their business in this building. he wasn’t a squatter.

you shook your heard at the old man, “that’s not possible.”

your landlord just simply shrugs and says, “well if he isn’t a squatter, then he probably lives with one of the residents in this building.���

“well, that’s just perfect,” you mutter, voice dripping with sarcasm and a hint of annoyance.

how the hell are you even supposed to find the person johnny could possibly be living with? you don’t know half of the people in your building. they’ll probably think you’re insane if you knock on their door to ask them if they’re harboring a scot with an overgrown mohawk.

before your annoyance can settle in, you ask the man if any of your neighbors are in the military. it’s the best place to start if you’re going to track johnny down. and luckily for you, there is one person who goes by the name of simon riley.

you stare at the computer screen in surprise when you spot simon’s apartment number. “he lives on my floor,” you utter in disbelief.

“yes,” the bespectacled man confirms. “across the hall and just a few doors down. he’s retired from the military. think he’s a butcher now.”

you’re already out of the door and thanking him before he can blink. you make your way up to your floor with johnny on the brain. you haven’t seen him in almost a week, and it feels like he’s avoiding you. it takes every ounce of strength you’ve got in you, to keep from having a breakdown. after he’d fucked you six ways to sunday, you woke up thinking johnny would still be curled around you, but he wasn’t. he’d left, and you’d never felt so alone. much to your dismay, your eyes start to sting as the urge to cry presents itself.

johnny owed you an explanation for his actions, and you were going to get one.

you’re not sure how long you stand in front of simon’s door, just staring at the silver number plates, before you work up the nerve to knock. you bite your lip nervously when you hear the someone unlocking the door. you almost took a step back when the door swung open to reveal a hulking figure. it was definitely simon. he was so fucking big and pretty.

“you must be johnny’s bird,” he says gruffly, lips quirking up into a small smile. “was wonderin’ when you would show up.”

you stare up at simon in surprise, before murmuring a soft greeting. “is he inside?”

simon offers you a silent nod, before stepping aside to let you in. when you walk through the foyer and into the living room, you swear you him mutter something about you not being the only person johnny haunts. but then he’s speaking again, louder this time. “show yourself, mactavish,” he barks, before taking a seat on the sofa.

and leave it up to johnny to make an appearance that almost scares you half to death. he walks right through the wall to your right, making you flinch away from him with a terrified shriek.

johnny froze, and so did you. somewhere in the background you can hear rumbling laughter. you must be losing your mind, because there was absolutely no fucking way johnny just walked through simon’s wall. a wall that’s supposed to be solid, a wall that a human shouldn’t even be able to phase through.

and then it all comes rushing back to you at once. johnny popping up whenever he wanted, even when you asked him to relinquish the key you thought he stole from your landlord. never hearing your door shut when you finally managed to convince him that you needed your alone time. you thought about how johnny knew certain things you thought no one should know. the creepy comments he would make about death. when he never tasted any of the food you offered. he’d spent most of his time lying through his teeth about having a special diet.

you know what he is now, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. you’ll probably scream if you do.

“bunny?! fuck, ye wasn’t supposed tae see that. christ, simon why would ye let her—”

“johnny….what?” your voice sounds faint to your own ears and you’re not feeling too great.

“bunny? shit, bunny?!”

johnny’s hands are on your arms, but you’re not really feeling him or hearing his words.

the last thing you see before your world tilts on its axis, is a pair of worried blue eyes.

-

a/n: what is he? and at want point in the fic did you realize it? maybe i’ll do a 2nd part.

masterlist

[livingasaghost]

remember in high school and college when i chronically overshared on tumblr about every little thing and then i was like "no no that's too personal i shouldn't share that nobody needs to know that"

well joke's on yall because i am still a chronic oversharer!

so basically you all surmised that i signed for my own solo apartment. i got the keys last tuesday and i was hoping to move in this past weekend with the help of my dad. it was supposed to be a simple thing...and now i am sitting on the couch in my old place with my entire life in boxes and a full-ass covid diagnosis. how did we get here you may ask?

basically the unit i am renting is not the one i toured or signed up for. which shouldn't be the end of the world, i'm flexible, the space is mostly similar....except that it smells like cigarettes and also there have been a million other tiny problems. the appliances aren't as new, the tub needs help, there's just no microwave???, the fridge doesn't really open properly, there was water pooling in the bathroom sink, when i got there the first time the deadbolt lock was wiggly, the ceiling outside the unit is literally falling down??? and also one day when i came to check out the unit there was a notice from the sheriff for the previous resident to vacate the premises. so totally chill!

i kind of had a breakdown about it when i first saw the space but then i reasoned with myself that i was just making a big deal out of nothing, that it could all probably be fixed, and some of it was fixed by maintenance...but after going to the leasing office three days in a row trying to fix all these problems, i still have to deal with the cig smell, NO MICROWAVE?, and the entire thing just feels more and more unsafe. not to mention it wasn't what i thought i was paying for, especially for the price range.

and i think the biggest thing too is that the one person i kept talking to in the office was both incredibly unhelpful and really quite rude. and sure maybe she was having an off day (three days in a row???) like i can be empathetic for sure....but goddamn i am a new resident you should at least tRY to be nice to me! i think i deserve that at the very least!

so anyway dad came to visit and tell me i'm not crazy and we toured my unit again and both agreed that this isn't what i thought i was getting so we gotta talk to someone before i move everything into that godforsaken unit. we try to talk to the office on saturday but the lady (again, rudely) told us that everybody was MIA until tuesday but there were two other units similar to my style/price range so okay maybe i can look at one of those on tuesday

...except sunday i tested positive for covid and so obviously now i am bedridden and i can't speak bc my voice is almost gone and so okay i'll just have dad call the office to sort things out....except when he calls the office they say they'll call him back with someone who can actually deal with this (nobody ever calls back in that office, i know from past experience). so okay maybe i'll send a message in the resident portal! (again, nothing)

now last week i think i spent 3-4 days just stewing in my anxiety, feeling like shit, not eating or sleeping, and the best part of my day was going to work. bc that's how bad i felt about this whole thing. but now i am out of work until next tuesday, i have even less of an idea of what to do, and i'm arguably losing more money the longer i wait but i feel this strange sense of peace. like nothing matters! i will be okay bc i am privileged but i will use this to spite landlords and capitalism and i will continue to be angry! bc what the fuck! literally could have been a chill little thing if they would have just walked through the unit with me like i asked the moment i got my keys but nO she didn't want to do that because i was inconveniencing her!

god the more i think about it the more furious i am for the other people they've inevitably done this to

i'm so so lucky to have incredible parents and friends to support me through this bc it quite frankly sucks ass but what are we doing about the lower class! how are we helping them!! how do we stop this from happening to other people!!!

anyway, now you have context, i'm back to being an emotionless blob watching parks & rec and sniffling on the couch let's all pray that xfinity doesn't realize that they haven't disconnected the wifi yet oops

[justafoxhound]

Woops i accidentally pressed unfollow instead of ask XD Anyway, domesticity meme for Tali and Burke? All of them please :)

• big spoon/little spoon: Burke is the big spoon when she wants it.  He's a back sleeper otherwise.

• favorite non-sexual activity: they enjoy working together, though now it's more network building and positioning themselves- schmoozing, snooping, and blackmail. But they also have a lot of fun, Tali is mischievous and Burke will just throw a crazy idea out there in all sincerity. Think Kenan & Kel 'grab these items and meet me at this weird place'.

• who uses all the hot water: Talia since she likes a hot bath.

• most trivial thing they fight over: it could be anything if either of them is in a bit of a bad mood. Probably their shared space not being the way Burke wants it, he's not used to company/compromise.

• who does most of the cleaning: they have a cleaner. Though Tali is messy, she knows how to clean and care for things from Vault duties. That place was 200 years old and functional not from neglect, so she does things when she sees it hasn't been done right/at all

• what has a season pass on their dvr/who controls the netflix queue: I don't think Burke would care for tv. If he's chilling he wants to let his mind wander since that's when he gets his ideas. Tali made him a netflix profile but it's untouched.

• who calls up the super/landlord when the heat’s not working: Burke is the landlord. Tali would probably be able to fix it before having to call him.

• who steals the blankets: Talia is more restless in bed so naturally she fidgets them into a mess

• who leaves their stuff around: Burke's things all have a place. Talia is more likely to leave her things strewn around. It annoys Burke, he's lived his whole life without anyone in his space.

• who remembers to buy the milk: it would be pretty far down Burke's list and Tali might remember if she's going out especially to get them a treat. I think they'd arrange for regular delivery (hey they reinvented the milk round in the wasteland)

• who remembers anniversaries: Burke knows the dates, whereas Tali cares more that they're still here after so long

• Who cooks normally? Burke since he appreciates good food and knows how, whereas Talia ate from a canteen her whole life. But she is learning as she doesn't like feeling useless, and she does like impressing Burke.

• How often do they fight? It depends a lot on the circumstances and Talia. When they have a goal, they team up. When things are settled and ticking over nicely, she worries why Burke needs her anymore and gets a bit crazy. If he's in a mood it's going to kick off.

• What do they do when they’re away from each other? Burke does what he always does, work. When he's away Tali hangs out in the bar socialising with their staff, and practises feeling for gossip from the regulars.

• Nicknames for each other? Burke still calls her Songbird when he's trying to soothe her. Tali took to using his first name

• Who is more likely to pay for dinner? Burke

• What would they get each other for gifts? Burke likes the idea of romance so he likes to spoil her with classic gifts like jewellery, but he knows she'd appreciate a really cool gun, and he does like that she's a woman who can do both.

She tries to source the best of fine things for him like booze or a watch, but she doesn't know much about them herself so is at the mercy of whoever she's using to bring the item. 

• Who kissed who first? Burke, just

• Who made the first move? It wasn't really clear cut enough to say. There were eyes.  Tali let her attraction slip first. Burke was great at *believing* he was no flirt

• Who remembers things? Burke remembers everything. He probably wrote it down.

• Who started the relationship? Burke, finally

• Who cusses more? Tali. Burke is careful what others see in his reactions so has always filtered himself.

• What would they do if the other was hurt? Burke would look for who was to blame so he could hurt them. Tali would be the same since Burke enabled this reaction since the vault. She’d be a great nurse for him though given what she learnt from her dad.

Hehe thanks and no worries about pressing all the wrong buttons 😂

[oliviaillustrations]

Garden of Eden

my piece for the @grishaversebigbang ! this is based off of the lovely dark academia ninej au fic written by @kugisakigf and @emdrabbles titled Garden of Eden

you can find my gang members and their amazing pieces below! 💗

Materialki: @landryaugust (here and here) @oranges-and-stuff (here)

AO3 Link: here!

Summary:

Nina is doing just fine as a directionless art student—she goes to class four times a week, struggles to get oil paint out of her clothes on laundry day, makes sure to dodge her landlord when he asks about rent, and dreads the day she has to graduate. Maybe she feels as important to the grand scheme of things as a stray brushstroke, and she's no closer to any shred of a clue about what she's going to do with her life. But it's fine. She's fine.

Except when Nina’s painting class gets a live model, she spends more time staring at this very pretty, very intimidating newcomer more than she does at her own canvas. Inej is gorgeous and terrifying and has her life together and now Nina can’t remember the last time she was able to think about anything but her. Pressure starts to ramp up and the world she's tried so hard to hide herself from keeps pounding at every wall she's built to protect herself, and now she's left wondering if she'll ever amount to anything. Will history forget Nina Zenik? Will she ever do something worthwhile with what little she's been given? And does it even matter, when Inej Ghafa seems to draw her ever closer, an Icarus to her blazing sun?

First Chapter: Nina Zenik is crumpled in a mass of blankets, shivering and bone-tired, when she realizes that sometimes, living in the attic of a church is worth it. She can deal with the rotting wood that creaks and rolls under her feet, the sounds splintering out across the room as she walks. She can forgive the smell of must and cobwebs, the heavy fragrance of mold and must and incense lingering around every corner, even on the rare occasions when she has time to clean. She can almost ignore the deep ache of wintertime, the heat barely making its way to her with long, spiraling fingers, the cold permeating through every crack in the walls that let in the sharp December chill. She's made her peace with the occasional mouse that sprints underfoot, the moths spending weeks on the windowsill, the shitty water pressure and gas stove that only works once a week if she was lucky.

Because mornings like this seemed to make everything worth it.

The rising sun, shallow and shy in the pale morning light, would reach out and glance off of an ancient stained glass window, just at her bedside. The sky would sing, and the carefully laid image of The Virgin Mary would glow, sweet features framed in green and violet. Nina would wake to vibrant shadows dancing across her skin and colors pooling on her floor like spilled blood. Sometimes, she would just sit there, hours before classes would start. The world faded to a hazy gray, and all that was left was the sunrise and her. She'd just look at the sun, and she'd pause for a moment, and just breathe . It never quite felt like she could get a full breath of air anymore. She would just take a breath, and she'd stop thinking, and she'd just be . She wasn't Nina Zenik, right now. She was sunlight and morning air and that particular shade of crimson shot through with gold when the light shines in.

She blinks, and the sun has moved. She's washed in pitch again, deep blue drowning the lines and arches of her body into a loose silhouette. She's empty, again, just a fragile body in a silent room. The floor dips and bends beneath her feet as if to sing a hollow tune in some form of an answer. It does not feel like enough. It never does.

She wipes a smudge of dust off the windows, her finger stained red even in the fading light. Her heart beats in concert with the pulsing of her head, and she winces, hard. Lack of sleep is catching up to her, it seems. The last few nights—weeks, if she's being true—have been short and restless, a sick sort of fear settling in whenever her eyes begin to close. It burns like every word she's never said and it spoils like a promise in her stomach. Everything is too much, and it's all she can do to stand on two feet and will her fingers to curl around a pencil. And even that's a pretense.

She hasn't been able to paint in months. Everything she makes seems twisted and wrong , an abomination of oil paints and a mockery of everything she's worked to accomplish. (She buries the voice that says she hasn't truly accomplished anything deep in her chest and tries to forget it can still breathe). She's felt stuck, a broken record that keeps skipping the same line of a song she's heard a hundred times. She can feel everything falling away from her, but doesn't know how to hold on to it all. She's losing it all with nothing she can do to stop it.

Nina doesn't have time for this- this crisis , something hisses in her ear, teeth grazing against her neck. But the problem is, she never has time for any of this. It all keeps piling up and then she’s buried under the weight of it and then she's having a panic attack in a public restroom and turning in late assignments and making excuses and she can’t do that . She can't do that again. So she compartmentalizes, picks out tiny little problems, and thinks about them for a short while, washes it down with wine, and calls it a night. Everything she doesn't deal with disappears in the morning. And she likes it that way.

But morning has come, and she still feels like a goddamn inside-out sock and she doesn't know what to do about it. Nina has been floundering for years, though, so this isn't any different than anything else.

Her phone flickers and the curling numbers read 7:49. Shit. She has a nine a.m. class and she's still in bed. Normally, she'd get to rot into her pillows for another hour at least, but she needed it for her major, and by the time she'd finally finished agonizing over which courses to take, it had been the only time slot open. So, here she is, aching limbs and sunburnt eyes, stepping onto the cold embrace of hardwood floors. She shivers, and the weak threads of sunlight that weave through the windows don't make the room any warmer.

The shower isn't warm, either. She bears the wet chill anyway. The water is soothing and it washes away the dregs of sleeplessness from her eyes. She stands under the spray, lets it drip down her back, and feels something like comfort as the soap slips down around her ankles and the room begins to smell like lavender. She waits for the water to finally run low, and steps out, puddles tracing her footsteps as she makes her way to her dresser.

Her hair lies damp on her shoulders, thick strands tangled and dark against her skin. It started curling, lately, and she's not sure why, but she doesn't quite mind. Sometimes, she closes her eyes, and imagines vines and leaves woven through the loose curls. A vision of Dionysus with dirt-stained fingers and violet stains under her eyes. A fairy twined with sumac and oak, wings that glow gold in the sunlight. She's always wanted to be special. She's always wished to be more than she is. But now, her own haggard reflection is what stares back at her. She's not sure if she likes what she sees.

She's not sure that it matters.

Nina gets dressed, rifling through her closet in search of something warm. It’s not like she’s obsessed with how she looks, but she does try and pick something nice. Today, she settles on a pink sweater patterned with strawberries, and earrings to match. (She’s nothing if not consistent.) It’s soft and thick, and it smells like summertime. It’s perfect for this, the kind of day that soaks through your skin and wears away at your bones. She slips into thick boots and a pair of jeans, and she's gone.

She takes the spiral staircase outside of her apartment one creaking step at a time, counting as she goes. One, two, three, four, avoid the loose nail on five, six, seven, eight. She should get that fixed, she thinks. But that would require seeing the landlord. And no one wants to see the landlord. The thought whispers away as fast as it came.

The staircase spits her out in the church vestibule. It’s all dark wood and low ceilings, pale morning light filtering through the narrow windows. Soft music floats through the heavy doors separating Nina from the nave of the church, and if she listens closely, faint chanting is woven between the notes. The song sounds familiar. She’s unsure if it’s a psalm drilled into her from middle school bible camp or because the organ drums the same tune beneath her floor every day.

Nina stands a moment longer, eyes momentarily fluttering closed as she listens, grasped by an unnamable sensation equal parts reassuring and paralyzing. And then she’s out the door, down the marble steps, and on the street.

The cold air stings her cheeks and her shoulders wince against the wind. She really should've grabbed a coat before she left, but it's fine. She still hasn't eaten, and she has a class in half an hour. If she turns back now she'll be late. So, Nina grits her teeth, ignoring how hard they're rattling against each other, and tugs the sleeves of her sweater down to cover her shaking hands. The coffee shop’s only a five-minute walk, and it'll be warm inside, and that's the only thing that keeps her moving forward. Her feet beat on the concrete with a steady rhythm, and she focuses on that instead of the aching cold.

The awning of the Dregs greets her, bold block letters on top of old red brick. Scuttling through the door, she’s welcomed by a gust of warm air. The barista looks up at the gentle tingle of the bell and flashes her a quick smile before resuming their work. They don’t look familiar. Must be a new hire. It feels like every time she gets comfortable around here, something changes. The world rolls and ripples under her feet, and she doesn’t remember the last time she’s caught her balance.

Nina takes a deep breath and rubs her hands together, which are now bright pink, then places them on the tips of her ears, which are also bright pink. The morning is quiet, with only a scattering of patrons to be found in the mixed-matched chairs. Some of the dark red wallpaper is beginning to peel off the plaster behind the counter. The Dregs she knows and loves.

“Good morning.” Behind the counter stands the barista, hands fidgeting with a dishtowel.

Nina blinks. “Mornin’,” she croaks, voice weak. She takes a look at the drink menu, even though she’s been here every morning since freshman orientation, because she needs to look busy and not as if she’s more burnt out than a pile of ash. Thankfully, the barista notices her quiet plea and doesn’t try to strike up any more conversation.

A few beats of silence pass, only interrupted by the occasional clink of coffee mugs. Despite already knowing what she’s going to order--the same damn caramel macchiato with far too much sugar than she should start her day with because why would she ever change the habits that hurt her the most--Nina stares at the menu overhead. Her eyes slowly unfocus, not actually reading the menu so much as wondering if she should even try to, so she doesn’t realize how much time has passed until the barista clears their throat with a little more vigor than necessary.

“So…” they start, rocking on the balls of their feet and making a point to not look directly at Nina. “Can I get you started or…?”

She snaps her head back down. “Oh, shit - sorry, yeah.” She allows herself one more moment to reconsider, then orders the caramel macchiato, but not before fumbling with her change. A cascade of pennies and nickels and dimes all crash to the floor and all noise in the cafe ceases at once. Nina doesn’t need to turn around to know how many pairs of eyes rest on her.

“I’ll, uh - get that for you right away.” The barista couldn’t have shuffled away any faster, disappearing into the back.

Nina swears once, loud, then stoops down and collects her change. Fucking figures. This morning has felt awfully representative of life in recent years - bitter, shitty, reliant on loose change. Yet her pride, or perhaps self pity, leaves her stagnant, unable to change. She refuses to get her hopes up about the coffee. With her luck it’ll be bitter and shitty, too.

The barista comes out soon after, coffee in one hand and muffin in the other. They set both on the counter and offer Nina a meek look. “Muffin’s on the house.”

“Oh. Thank you,” she says, scooping both into her hands. And she means it.

“Of course,” they say. Then they lean over the counter and point across the cafe. “And, uh - the drinks in the case over there, the orange ones. Yeah, those. They’re good for hangovers.”

Nina looks from the barista, to the case, then back to the barista. So that’s what this is. She scrunches her face into a weak smile, though it probably looks more like a grimace, and takes her drink without another word. Of course they think she’s hungover, because who would have such a shitty morning if they were sober? That thought is chased with a wave of guilt, heavy. They were being nice. Why can’t she just say thank you and move on? She pushes the door open and the bone chilling day greets her with a sting of cold that bites at her cheeks, her nose, ready to greet her next misfortune.

[beeseverywhen]

A few years ago a family moved in to the apartment above mine and they unleashed something within me that had me worried

I went from being unbelievably chill about any noise 'Oh that's just part of living in a shared building' 'I actually like it, the noise of humans around me just living reminds me I'm not alone in this world' 'kids will be kids' to like a hare trigger. This time last year, the slightest noise from above just made me fall in to deep deep rage. Id go from going about my day to somewhere in my head i never want to be. Seeing red. At one point I was ill and I actually stormed out of bed and thundered on the door to ask them incredibly politely to turn down the TV (the level of rage I had to reach to actually leave my house and say something was immense but even then, with them actually in front of me I wasn't about to be anything but deadly nice. I may be bolshy OK but I'm not about to yell at my neighbours man I'm not an idiot, we've gotta share a bin cupboard).

By the end any noise i heard from them made me so angry I was actually scared this was like a sign of things to come. I'm becoming that shitty single middle aged neighbour who hates anything you do. Have I always been that person. I hate who I've become, who I'm ever increasingly becoming more of.

It was a single dad and his kid but it turned out like he had like 5 other children and they were on a constant relay. There was never not a child in his house and it was a 2 bed flat. Oftentimes I could hear even more children than he could possibly be responsible for. It was like I had a middle school above my bedroom. He also didn't seem to have given any of them bedtimes. Every night, non stop preteen arguments, chasing each other, the worst TV possible on max. And even worse! The guy was really fucking nice. So I couldn't say shit and felt terrible for being so angry at him all the time.

And then!!!! Like it couldn't get any worse something goes wrong with his heating system and this dumbo this complete eejit of a guy fucking doesn't tell our mother fucking landlord. His radiators have me thinking this guy is systematically killing elephants at 3pm, 6pm and 1am on the dot every single day. And it gets louder as time goes on. I didn't actually realise what it was for months and was like desperate for answers. By month 4 I was sure he was on a juice diet and kept his blender on the floor. When I finally finally realise its the water, I'm like ah I see. Just gotta get it sorted. That's fine. I just gotta wait it out, something so much easier now I know its a simple fix and the end is in sight. Then a few more months pass and I'm thinking, this is becoming frustrating again.

I thought maybe it was a tricky fix you know. I check in when I see him and it seems to me things aren't running too smoothly with the fix, you know, gotta chase them a bit. I can sympathise. Then. Month 9. I see a tradesperson. I get excited. I call out to the guy 'hey are you fixing flat 4? I'm so happy' turns out he's an electrician. Disappointing. Then! Electrician is so entertained by my tale of sorrow, he shares it with the neighbour when he comes out. And then. This is the worst bit OK. This motherfucker. I thought he'd been telling me these past months he'd chase the fix. No. No. He hasn't even fucking logged it. Here he is cheerful as fucking Larry going oh yeah I really need to get to that. Not get to chasing it. No. He needs to get to telling them there's even a problem. Now when I tell you I wanted to throttle the man.

So for his sins: too many children and a lax approach to bedtime, terrible taste in TV and a prenatural ability to ignore his radiators sounding like a foghorn every single day paired with a frustrating inability to hold those responsible fucking responsible and tell the landlord there's a problem so they can fix it

I was worried cause not any one of those faults seemed great enough to fuel this rage and yet, there was a fire burning within me so hot it seemed it'd never burn out. I'm honestly thinking this is my slide in to terrible, boring, whiny, middle aged sad sack

And then, dude buys a house. I get a new neighbour. Another single dad but the kids a bit older. He apologises in advance they're a family of musicians.

And you know what. These last few months have been the most comforting in my life. This dude right, he's an insomniac. I hear his TV at all hours of the morning. I don't care. His daughter sings constantly, her favourite time to record guitar tracks is 1am. It's pretty nice actually. Sometimes I hear his water system complaining. No skin off my back. His daughter always has friends over, they are very loud. I'm just soaking in the happy atmosphere of humans laughing and singing and being so very alive. It's great.

Not one noise that comes from above is annoying to me.

This is fantastic news. This is a sign of great things. I'm fine as it turns out! I'm not slowly aging in to the spoilsport i apparently always was all along. I'm patient again. Not only that, but I'm back to being good natured about things that'd piss off anyone else. This guy keeps apologising and I'm just like 'Thursday night was particularly good.' He's like I'm so sorry she decided to practice at 2am yesterday I'm like, get her to do wild horses again, I like that one. He's like oh my god how can you hear whole songs I didn't realise the soundproofing was that bad and I'm just 'Yeah it is. However, I don't actually care, I listen to music when I can't sleep anyway, may as well be whatever you're playing'

So, there it is. Turns out I'm not slowly aging in to a miserable git, I'd just reached my very upper limit of tolerance, as is human. Very reassuring. I'm incredibly pleased.