#and i was like yeah maybe ur right...i may have gotten it if it was cheaper but it was like 36 euros LMFAOOO Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[f1owermoon]

got this really cool bomber type jacket but it's a bit too big on me and it's kinda giving "i stole it from my bf" 👁👁

[burningcomputerpersona]

ahhhhhhhh guess who made the mistake of getting a haircut

[moonstruckme]

hi love I like all ur fics!!! Ur most recent emt Maurader made me realize tho we don't always get to see Sirius being vulnerable so what about a fic where may be he's having an off day? Or runs into a cousin and they completely ignore him and he tries to act like it doesn't bother him and just reader comforting him and giving him space

Thank you for requesting angel!

cw: allusion to past abuse, discussion of toxic workplace dynamics

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Sirius gets home from work early. You’re in the bedroom, stomach-down on the mattress with your book in front of you. You hear the front door open and come out to greet your boyfriend, but your smile falls when you see him. 

Sirius’ face is red. He doesn’t usually color when he’s upset, so you take it to mean something that he has now. He steps on the back of his shoe a couple of times before he manages to get it off, stomps on the back of the other even more harshly. You think he might be shaking. 

“Sirius?” 

He flinches. Turning around, his expression twinges with some mix of emotions at seeing you, too muddled to parse apart. He seals them all away quickly. 

You take a step towards him. “You okay?” 

“Yeah.” It comes out hoarse. Sirius clears his throat. “Yeah. Just a shit day at work.” 

“You’re home early,” you note. 

Sirius nods curtly. You think maybe that’s that, but his expression is conflicted. 

“Do you wanna sit down?” you ask gently, going to the couch and hoping he’ll follow. He does. It’s a challenge not to reach for his hand, to pull him closer or offer some kind touch, but the stiffness about Sirius’ frame hints that it may not be well received right now. 

When he’s still silent after a moment, you say, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I could make tea and we could just relax.” 

Sirius shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he says, tersely, like he might be trying to convince himself more than you. “I think I’m probably going to be fired, though.” 

You feel your eyebrows go up. 

“I…you know how I got a new boss a few weeks ago?” 

You nod mutely. 

“Right, well, she’s got a temper. At least a couple times a week I’ll hear her shouting at someone in her office and she’s already managed to fire from almost every team.” Your dread mounts as Sirius goes on, speaking faster now that he’s on a roll. “She called me in after lunch. I fucked up something in a report—I hadn’t checked it and it had gotten sent out with the error—and she was pissed. She screamed at me—really screamed, stood up and got red in the face and all that—for probably ten minutes before she sent me back to my desk. And I just came home.” Sirius lets out a dry chuckle. “If she doesn’t fire me, I might quit.” 

“You should, baby.” Your voice pitches with dismay, hurt and outrage for him warring inside you. You take a chance and reach for his hand. Sirius fits his fingers between yours instinctively, something seeming to loosen in him at the touch. “I can’t believe she really shouted at you. No one deserves that, least of all for a silly error in a report. She should be fired for that.” 

Sirius gives you a little smile, but it dissolves at the edges, watery. A cavity opens in your chest as his eyes grow shiny. 

“Baby.” 

He shakes his head, jaw clenched. Blinking. “Sorry,” he says roughly. “I never used to do this.” You feel your face pinch with sympathy. He means cry, you know. Sirius as an adult is more emotional than he was as a child, but you still rarely see him cry. “She just—she sounded just like my mother.” 

Realization comes like a blow to your middle. “Oh, my love,” you say breathlessly, moving to put your arms around him. 

Sirius usually hugs with his whole being. He throws himself into it, with force and purpose and his own rough brand of caring. So you’re used to letting him take the lead, but now, when his arms come around you hesitantly, you’re the one who applies the pressure. And Sirius melts against you. 

You cup the back of his neck in one hand and squeeze between his shoulders with the other, imagining your love pouring out of you and into him through your palms. Sirius is quiet, but you feel a couple of hot tears transfer from his chin to your shirt. You worry he’s holding his breath. 

“Sirius.” You say his name with all the tenderness you can summon, afraid of him hearing echoes of his mother’s voice. “I’m so sorry, lovely. You never, ever deserve to be shouted at that way.” 

“Even if I told you I left your favorite mug at my office?” he jokes weakly. 

You let him go. There aren’t many tears to brush off his cheeks, and you make short work of them, soothing your thumbs over his face just for the sake of it. Surprisingly, his complexion is less agitated than it had been when he’d come in. He was holding it in, you realize. 

“Don’t ever let me speak to you like that,” you say.

Sirius’ expression sobers. “You wouldn’t. I know you wouldn’t.” 

“Really. Leave me if I talk to you like that, I’m serious.” 

“No, that’s me.” 

One side of your mouth tips up without your consent. “Bad joke.” 

Sirius mirrors you, grinning halfheartedly. “You think you’d have learned to evade it by now.” 

You gather that he wants things to be light now. That’s okay. You know Sirius has a difficult time with the truly heavy emotions—anger is an instinct for him, but tears and sorrow he’s never known what to do with. You’ll talk about it more over time, in bits and pieces where he’s comfortable. And just because you’re letting it go now doesn’t mean you’re done coddling him. 

You let your hands coast down from his face to either side of his neck, massaging gently the tension in his shoulders. “Did you really bring my favorite mug to work?” 

Sirius’ smile goes a tad sheepish. “Yes?” 

“Why would you do that?” 

“Because it makes me think of my most favorite sweetheart when I get coffee from the break room,” he says, smarmy. “Also, it was the first one I saw when I went to grab one from our cabinet.” 

You smile at him. Sirius pretends at facetiousness, but you know the first reason had been the genuine one. 

“What,” he asks, “you didn’t notice it was missing?” 

“No, I did. I only thought you’d broken it.” 

“And you weren’t going to say anything?” 

“What’d be the point?” 

A soft, intimate look comes over Sirius’ face. “I don’t deserve you,” he says, gray eyes raw and quiet, “do I?” 

You match his tone. “Of course you do, lovely. You deserve better than me, it’s just I’m what you’ve got.” 

“Mm, there’s another way you’re not allowed to speak.” He wraps his arms around you, pressing a heavy-fond kiss to your hairline. “I won’t have any of that talk.” 

“I’ll trade you that for the jokes about your name.” 

“No, I don’t think so. You’re going to have to work a little harder, doll, I’m not giving those up so easily.”

[angelyuji]

Hi Izzi! I really like the stepcest thing

Maybe you can write about slightly dark step... brother(? Peter Parker? Him always looking at the reader and getting too close to her, reader's dad not realizing something's wrong cause he's still in the "honeymoon phase" part of the relationship with May

Peter being love-struck always wanting to smell your hair/touch you in some way/spend time with you

RAHHWHHAHHAHDHHRHWJ UR COOKING WITH GASS

step bro!peter x gn!reader

tw // implied noncon (under the cut), stepcest, manipulation, gaslighting, semi-public sex (also under the cut), shitty actual father so... yeah

18+!!!!!

you knew of peter, but you guys never really crossed paths before in high school. your dad had been dating some mystery woman, but told you that he wasn’t ready for her to meet you. and before long, you leave for college and come back in the summer to find out your dad’s mystery gf is now his fiancé who is peter parker’s aunt/guardian??? you’re completely blindsided when you get home and find out that, not only did may and peter MOVE IN, but you’re sharing a room with peter 😭😭 (since you're gone for most of the year and peter commutes from home, they thought it would be better for you both to share) (they also just wanted to convert the spare bedroom into an office for may.... so you see where your father's priorities lie)

your dad is sooo in love that when you complain about it, he tells you “please, kiddo, your old man is so happy. can you try to make it work?” and gives a sad old man look to make you fold.

step-bro peter def steals your clothes while you’re taking a shower, so you’re forced to come into the room in a towel or ask for his help. he def just steals ur clothes too. he’s the type to be super touchy when you’re near him, smelling you, holding your hand, and “accidentally” grazing your chest or ass. don’t bother telling ur dad tho cuz he’ll just say that peter’s making the effort to be family and you’re being rude.

i have a couple thoughts/scenerios….

one) its movie night and ur sitting at the end of the couch and peter sits next to you. the two of u are sharing a blanket. (may and dad next to him) you’re starting to fall asleep, eyes fluttering closed, when you feel a hand on your thigh. you look down to see peter’s hand on ur thigh, but when you look at him, he’s staring straight ahead at the movie. you try to move ur thigh, but he pinches your skin, stopping your movement. “what the hell do you think you’re doing.” you whisper.

peter puts a finger to his lips, before whispering back, “i’m just making sure you feel good.” he sees you look at your dad, “you don’t want them to see, do you?” peter moves your leg on to his lap, spreading your legs. you try to close your legs and call your dad when you see him, with may’s head on his shoulder. you close your mouth. he’d just get mad at you for ruining movie night.

two) this whole thing with peter touching you, invading your privacy, stealing your things, etc has been going on for a long time. with how happy may and ur dad have been, you kept quiet. you didn’t want your dad to be upset and you can deal with peter until you graduate. the only time you get a break is when you left for the fall semester, but its right back to business as usual when you’re back for break.

may and ur dad decide to get married summer of your sophomore year. so thanks to wedding stuff, you had gotten a break from peter…. until the day of the wedding. everything goes smoothly, of course, and you make ur speeches with tears in your eyes. thanking may for making your father so happy. peter comes up to the mic, thanking your father for making may happy “and for giving me (y/n), the best sibling i could ever ask for.” he smiles at you, raising his glass to you as everyone applauds peter. you force a smile back.

when everyones dancing and drinking, peter drags you away to a quiet room in the banquet hall. “(y/n), i’ve been waiting a long time for this.” he has you cornered against the wall and before you could look for a way out, he’s kissing you, trapping you between his body and the wall.

“peter, i-i need to go out there. our parents are going to look for us.” you try to move, but peter moves you back to where you were. he pulls you into him and kisses along your shoulder.

“they’re drunk and happy, (y/n). don’t ruin it for them.” peter bites into your shoulder. “now, baby, turn around and bend over.”

RUAHHHAHGAGAHHRHHRHRHRIWANTHIMSOOOBADDDD

icky step bro peter plsss come into my room at night and feel me up becuz ur a depraved virgin PLEASEEEPLEASE

[poetryandfluffycats]

OKAY. since reqs are open uhm would you write madara cucking kuro plz...

like literally fucking fem!reader getting fucked, kuro's clothed boner pressed to her cheek while he kinda js sits back in shock and doesn't know what to do while mama is fucking her rrroughhhh and is like "you like my cock that much? kuros right there you'll make him angry" and shit. idk DOES THIS MAKE SENSE but yeah 🫶🏻

-🍓anon

A/N: I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THE PLOT OMG SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I hope it's too ur liking I may have gone off the rails a little bit....

Pairing: Kuro Kiryu x fem!reader x Madara Mikejima

Content: Madaras into you, everyone and their dog knows that. Only problem is, you have a boyfriend.

Warnings: NSFW, dub-con, slut-shaming, oral sex(f receiving), cuckolding, dry humping, sexual harassment(?), mentions of cheating, established relationship with kuro, ooc madara(?), they're both ooc tbh💀, porn with plot

Words: 2.1k

NSFW oneshot under cut!

Have Him Watch?~

It was no secret that Madara had a thing for you. He had made his advances-both romantic and sexual alike-very obvious to you and everyone else, not even hesitating to flirt with you right in front of your own boyfriend, Kuro.

Kuro wasn't the type to let himself fall into petty jealousy, he knew you loved him and that nothing would never change that. Therefore, he hardly batted an eye whenever Madara made another stuipd comment about your body, or when his hands would linger for just a bit too long. It was better to simply ignore him and wait for Madara to get the hint. Kuro knew he was strong, but to pick a fight with Madara? Death wish.

So, he didn't aggravate him in any way, letting the bigger man do this thing until he realised he had no chance with you. Which is why he was confused when Madara cornered him in the gym one day, his teeth gleaming in his signature smirk.

"Kuro! My friend, my pal! Got a minute?" He beamed, slinging his arm around Kuros shoulders and pulling him in close, squeezing so hard you'd think he was trying to suffocate him.

"Uh, I'm a bit busy right now" Kuro pushed him off, dusting himself off and returning his attention to the weights he had been lifting. "Maybe later"

Madara smile didn't waver, if anything it only grew in size. Clearly, he had no interest in leaving anytime soon, not even when Kuro desperately wanted him too. Whatever Madara wanted from him, he didn't have the time for it. Not now, hopefully not ever.

"Ah, cmon! It'll only take a second!" He chirped, plopping down on the bench beside Kuro, crossing his legs and watching as the redhead started his reps. "Hey, working hard or hardly working, am I right? Hahaha~"

"Out with it, Mikejima" Kuro grunted, resisting the urge to smash his weights straight in the mans face. All he wanted was a peaceful workout, was that too much to ask for?

Madara laughed, waving his hand dismissively as if to clear the tension. "Always so blunt, I've always liked that about you y'know!" He grinned, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "So, you and (name), huh? How serious have you gotten with her? Is it marriage?"

Now he was just starting to piss him off. How was this any of his business? Sure, you and Madara were friends, but where did he get off asking for details about your relationship?

"She's my girl, yeah" Kuro answered, praying that his short replies would deter him from the conversation. If that was even possible.

"Right, right. And just hypothetically, if she were to cheat on you, would you be mad?"

Kuro tighten his grip on the weights, his knuckles turning white at the strain. "What are you getting at? You trying to start something?" He said through gritted teeth, shooting a glare in the brunettes direction.

Madara chuckled, putting one hand up in defence and using the other to playfully slap Kuro on the shoulder-a gesture that he did not appreciate, might I add. "Woah! Easy, I don't wanna fight ya! I'm just curious. Hey, maybe you'd let her cheat on you, I don't know what you're into!"

Kuro dropped the weights, the metal making a loud 'clunk' sound as they hit the floor, causing the other members of the gym to look over and stare at the two. Not that he gave a damn, oh no. Not when this clown was making a scene. How dare he suggest you would have an affair? Was he out of his mind?

"What's wrong with you? Of course I'd be mad, what makes you think I'd be cool with that? Get lost man" He spat, shoving him aside as he rose to his feet. The blood rushing through his veins felt as if it was burning as he sped away, not wanting to spend another second with such a fool.

What even was that? Kuro had gotten used to Madaras teasing and loud personality. Hell, he'd even grown to enjoy it to an extent. But this was just insulting. Why was he even saying those things? Did he know something Kuro didn't? Had you....

No, that was silly. You would never be unfaithful, that just wasn't you at all. Yet here he was, images flooding his mind of you tangled in Madaras arms, both of your bodies sticky with sweat and cum as you screamed his name. It was disgusting.

But so, so hot.

Shit.

/-----

You and Madara were friends. It was normal for friends to hang out alone in each other's bedrooms, even if they were the opposite gender, right?

Yeah, of course it was fine! Who were you kidding, it was perfectly acceptable.

You two were good friends, the best of friends! So it was normal for him to hug you, to wrap his arms around your waist from behind and pull you closer. He was a touchy person, after all. It was totally okay for him to nuzzle into your neck and inhale the smell of your perfume, to pepper kisses all over your jawline, to grind his erection against your ass-

Wait a minute.

"H-hey! What are you doing?" You yelped, squirming around in his grasp in a feeble attempt to escape his hold. It didn't matter how close you were, there was no way you'd be comfortable with this!

"What's wrong?" He cooed, your wiggling only seeming to excite him further as he continued his humping. "Friends cuddle all the time! Or are we not friends anymore?"

"This isn't cuddling! This is-ah! This is, oh fuck! This is sexual harassment, you perverted fuck!" You cursed yourself for allowing your voice to crack, letting those dreaded moans spill out like you were some whore who enjoyed this. Which, of course, you didn't! You didn't like it, right? Dammit!

"Sexual harassment, huh? If that's what floats your boat" Madara chuckled, pushing his hands past the hem of your skirt, groping the soft flesh of your thighs.

You squirmed around, hitting at his chest and clawing at his arms. It was no use, damn him and his muscles! In this position all you could do was stand there and take it, because in all honesty, you knew that no amount of protesting would get him to stop. Even of you did get away, it wouldn't be for long, Madara was as stubborn as ever and you knew for a fact that he wasn't afraid to use force to get his way.

You just didn't realize that part of him would ever show itself to you.

"Kuro. Kuro will be home soon, and he'll-ah! He'll kick your ass!" You threatened, snapping your head around to glare at the man behind you. Using Kuro as a form of defence probably wasn't the best idea, but it was your last resort. Begging and trying to fight back certainly didn't work against Madara.

He just laughed. "Maybe we can have him watch"

"What do you-"

A sudden knock at the door cut you off, the familiar voice of your beloved boyfriend coming from behind it. "Uh, (name)? Do you have someone over? Why's the door shut? Can I come in?"

Oh fuck. No!

It suddenly dawned on you just how horrible this would look to Kuro, you pinned against another man with his hands up your skirt? Anyone would think you were a cheating whore! No matter how much you tried to explain the situation, it would still look the same. You had dug your own grave by even letting Madara come over!

Madara pressed his lips to your earlobe, nipping on the soft flesh and whispering lowly, "Do you want me to stop?"

Yes! No! Maybe?

God, why did it have to feel so fucking good?

"Babe? I'm coming in"

"Wait-ah-no! Don't-"

Too late.

The door swung open, the face of your wide-eyed and shocked boyfriend sending a wave of guilt down your spine. He looked at you, then Madara, then you again, his mouth opening and closing but no words coming out, only surprised mumbles and stutters.

You honestly couldn't tell if he was angry, sad, confused, aroused, maybe a mix of all three? And it didn't help that you were unaware of what emotions you should have been feeling either. Should you scream for help, or moan in pleasure? Push Madara away or pull him closer?

"Kuro... this isn't..." You started, trailing off when you glanced over the very obvious tent in the redheads jeans. Oh. Oh shit.

So he was aroused by this? What even was this? Some twisted form of roleplay? A fetish that the two men discussed that you didn't know about? Did Kuro actually like this, or was his body reacting subconsciously?

Either way, you didn't have much time to think about it before Madara picked you up from under your thighs and tossed you onto the bed like a ragdoll, wasting no time in climbing in between your thighs and nuzzling his nose into your panties.

"Mm~ You smell so good" He purred, the vibrations of his voice sending a wave of pleasure to your core, a gasp mixed with a whorey moan leaving your lips at the feeling.

The redhead in the doorway cleared his throat, footsteps echoing in the room as he made his way over to where you lay on the bed. He sat down beside you, a hand coming out to gently stroke your cheek. It was a soothing action. One that might have made your heart melt if there wasn't another man currently lapping at your panties like a starved dog.

"Is this okay? I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it first.." He apologised, his face flushed pink and his lips turned upwards into a small smile. "Just tell me if your not enjoying it and I'll kick him out, alright? That's okay?"

You gulped, then nodded, bringing your own hand up to hold his as you squirmed around on the mattress, your mind slowly but surely becoming goo at the pleasure spreading through your veins.

"Ah!- I don't know"- Madara looked up at you with those big brown eyes, choosing that moment to flatten his tongue against your clothed clit, making a show of slurping and smacking his lips together -"f-fuck yes! Oh god, please!"

With consent finally granted, Madara hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down in a second and diving straight into the heat of your pussy. He flicked his tongue up and down, side to side, round in circles and everywhere he could possibly reach inside of you.

Anything to make you scream his name, and scream his name you did. You threw your head to the side, falling into Kuros lap, as he brushed over that one spot, a spot that not even Kuro had reached before.

"Shit! Right there! Ah-ha~ Madara" You cried out, wrapping your legs around his head in a death grip, shoving his tongue even further inside you. "So good!"

He pulled his tounge out of your wet hole, opting to swirl and flick it over your clit. You withered and squirmed around on the bed, griping onto the sheets as hard as possible. The knot in your lower belly was starting to build, and both Madara and Kuro could tell. Your whole body felt as if it was on fire under Madaras touch, every inch of your body begging for release.

It just felt so good. So, so, so good-

"Ah-gonna cum!"

Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, toes curling and eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your lips parted and you were panting so heavy you barely had enough breath left in your lungs to moan or even scream. Juices splattered all over the face of the man in between your legs, dripping down his chin as he drank it up like it was the finest wine in the world.

Madara pulled away from your swollen cunt, climbing up onto the bed and hovering above you, leaning down to capture your lips in a quick kiss.

"Aren't you a little slut, huh? Getting off on my tongue while your boyfriend watched? You came so quickly, does he not treat you right?" He cooed, brushing a strand of hair away from your eyes.

Kuro, who had been dead quiet the whole time, finally spoke up. "You didn't have to be so rough with her" He grumbled, stroking the top of your head.

Madara huffed, a grin tugging at his lips. "She loves it! Don't you know what your own girlfriend likes?" He rolled his eyes before returning his attention back to your blissed-out form. "Ready for more, sweetheart?"

[tree-obsession]

2.2 SPOILERS!! PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK

this is a small lore discussion! mostly speculation and theories- i have not seen leaks about 2.3 plot yet, but i have seen a couple about boothill's character stories, so please keep that in mind!

trigger for mentions of suicide(aventurine) and mega corps(the ipc)

we have to talk about the ending cutscene with aventurine and boothill more! i'll start with my fav parts that no one really has brought up yet:

Aventurine intimidating Boothill after mentioning the guards are out- Boothill sounded so offput and hasty while reassuring him they were just knocked out, and we have to talk about aventurine himself just being intimidating more honestly his glare actually did kind of scare me.

Boothill pointing a gun at aventurine was. well. i'm sorry i did actually laugh at that. boothill i think you should research your targets a bit more honestly that guy is NOT afraid of guns. he fully walked into the nihility and pointed at least one gun at himself, and just got out of his own meticulously-planned suicide. threats of death won't work, sorry. also he has good reason to hate oswaldo schneider as well- threats didn't even have to be used, probably! he would kill him too, probably(revenge arc go go go!!)

the convo between aven and jade was. yeah. why he's betting his life again, i don't know (maybe sarcasm? or it was really just banter?) but it does seem like the two of them aren't super close at all, at least from what little i could gather. also if diamond hurts aventurine the entire fandom will kick his ass, emanator or no, so he better be prepared for that too lol. also, it was a pretty common theory aventurine would leave the ipc after exiting nihility, since acheron presumably broke his ties- i wonder why he went back? perhaps he had no plans as to where to go, or he has some ulterior motive?

how did he get out of nihility so unscathed? (for context, i haven't gotten aven's text messages yet, but i'm aware of some of their contents since they've been floating around w/out spoiler tags. the messages are mentioned a bit here if you wanna avoid spoilering!) i know argenti got him out, but 1) why was argenti there, or where did he even find him? and 2) that seems so random- both argenti and jade confirmed it, but plot-wise what's even the point of argenti pulling him out? also argenti said he was in a "woeful state" when he got out, and apparently the stonehearts are willing to give aven a break (which i'm assuming is major, since stonehearts are super important and have a lot of responsibility, plus he just destroyed a cornerstone) so him already being back on his feet when we see the phone call is a bit weird right away. he doesn't even sound sick, and ratio or any other doctor is nowhere in sight! (message spoilers start here) i'm aware the aventurine cornerstone was fully shattered/destroyed while protecting him from nihility- was he really in there for who-knows-how-long without any protection at all? he's apparently having nightmares and the ipc needed to call in a doctor of chaos to treat him, which is concerning considering his mental health and general will to live were extremely low even before walking into the nihility. like he genuinely has some of the worst will to live i've ever seen in a character or human being- walking through the nihility should have utterly destroyed him mentally and physically, but it didn't. 2.3 HAS to give us a whole lotta context, especially with nihility lore (my favorite aeon, i may be biased) and more about the ipc!

anyway, thank you for reading this poorly formatted, stream-of-consciousness word vomit about 2.2's aventurine lore. hope you liked it! drop ur thoughts in replies and reblogs plz they give me life(although i will be very busy next few weeks, so please don't be offended if you want a reply and don't get it, im so sorry!)

2.2 was peak- a bit slow, but the story was some of the best, if not the best stuff hoyo has given us in terms of writing quality. so great! i cried for sure, and that boss battle was just everything- especially the music. robin my lesbian queen if i didn't have to pull for firefly i would get your lightcone for sure...

see you all next time! thx for sticking around (:

[jinnie-ret]

HIII so I'm the one who asked Abt the sister reader and I wanted to rq a older brother skz x adoptive little sister reader where shes 15 and cusses a lot and is always getting into trouble like piercing her ears without anyone knowing, loud introvert, things like that and how they react to it? Love ur writing btw!🫶🏻🫶🏻

rebel

stray kids x adopted sister!reader

genre: fluff

content warnings: none

word count: 0.6k

summary: the boys are too used to their little sister's rebellious ways by now, but that doesn't stop them from worrying every now and then.

Hi thank you so much!! I hope you enjoy this one! :)

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

You had just arrived back to the dorms in the morning after coming back from your friend's house and spending the day with them all yesterday. It was silly of you to think that that boys wouldn't be awake at 10am in the morning.

"Ah, Y/N, nice of you to come home," Changbin says sarcastically, arms folded as he leans against the kitchen counter.

"It's not that late...?" you tried to get around the awkward situation, as you saw all of the boys eating breakfast with their phones out, and if you looked closer you would have noticed they had it open on the groupchat they had with you, waiting for a message to know when you'd be back.

"You could have told us you'd be ok," Han sighed in relief, coming up to you and affectionately stroking your hair back, but his fingers caught your ear, where you had gotten your second set of piercings done.

"Ow," you winced, causing him to raise a brow at you.

"You good?" Felix stood next to him, the September twins wondering what was the matter.

"Yeah, yeah, it's nothing," you shrugged them off and hopped onto the kitchen counter, nicking a piece of toast from Hyunjin's plate.

"I'll let that slide only because we were worried about you," Hyunjin sighed, still giving you the side eye despite his comment.

"Why were you worried?" you bit into the toast.

"Maybe because we haven't heard from you since 2am? What were you doing up at that time anyways?" Chan sighed, walking up to you and getting up from his seat at the table.

"Just watching films and that," you shrugged, mistakenly brushing your hair back.

"Oh, and what else did you get up to?" he frowned, huffing out a breath though his nose as his finger brushed against your new piercing.

"Ow... fine I got my seconds done," you admitted, looking away.

"With what money?" Jeongin laughed, "you only went to that local gig with your friends recently, and you can afford to have another piercing?"

"There was a discount! I got it done for ₩15,000!" you said happily, feeling like you had gotten a bargain.

"Oh dear, well hopefully you've got enough money left to pay for antibiotics when you get an infection," Minho wrinkled his nose.

"What do you mean?" you frowned.

"₩15,000?! That's too cheap, who knows if the metal is good quality, or if it was sterilised," Seungmin spoke up.

"Ah, well, I'm sure it'll be fine, only live once don't you?" you waved off their concerns.

"Yep, with infected gunky ears," Hyunjin patted your head.

"Stopppp," you whined at their teasing. But you didn't expect anything less from your brothers.

"Look, next time just tell us where you are and if you're ok, yeah?" Chan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah, Felix thought you died," Changbin giggled.

"I did not! I just thought she got kidnapped..." Felix trailed off after his attempt at defending himself.

"You do worry about me a lot," you laugh poking Felix's cheek.

"You're still a child, of course we worry," he hugs you to him.

"Ah, I'm not that young, I'm mature enough," you smile at them all.

"Yeah right, we still hear you cursing like a sailor when you're on the phone," Seungmin exposed you with a smirk.

"Who corrupted our baby y/n?" Han shook your shoulders, making you almost dizzy.

"Ok, ok, calm down," you giggled at him.

"I remember when you were 11 years old, so innocent, and now look at you," Changbin cried out, putting on a fake emotional voice as he covered his face.

"Such a rebel now," Hyunjin laughed, shaking his head at the scene in front of him, as Felix clung onto you and Han, Jeongin and Minho where now inspecting your piercings.

tagged: @skz-streamer @backintomykpopphaseagain @hannahhbahng @kiraisastay

[sharklovingaquarist]

Ok guys so this is gonna be a long one but Im going to talk about

Male apathy during pregnancy and post partum

Post partum mental distress

How the medical system fails women

How men should do their part

So I just saw a post by a man talking about how men downplay the process of reproduction, and yeah, duh - BUT I've come to a conclusion. There are two types of expectant/new father in this world: the type that treats his wife like a toy or the type that treats his wife like a cute pet and claps for her from the sidelines. "Yeah babe ur so strong" while not doing shit. So in this post, the guy is like "errrrr fellow males, did you know that the nutrients actually come from your wife's body?!?!" Like how is that not common knowledge? The uterus doesn't have little claw arms building a fetus. An embryo is created by a male and female, and that embryo attaches to the uterus and LEECHES from the female bloodstream.

He then he goes on to talk about how much blood we can lose during vaginal birth and c-sections, and Imma just say here and now that the medical system sucks ass. Yeah, birth sucks. Pregnancy sucks. But I kinda hate how people pass of a lot of the pain as a fact of life. The fact is that the medical system is vastly male, and males who put their poorly hidden fetishes into practices (I did veterinary science in highschool, and it was even prevalent there... vaginal speculums and artificial insem- 🤢) I'm sure we've all heard humans should stand to deliver a child. The high death statistic for women in childbirth (also explained by more black women dying than white), the lack of knowledge on the female body, and the priority of babies over women all tells me one thing: Birth is certainly painful, but it may be more dangerous than it should be. My honest opinion is that death rates exploded once men infiltrated our care due to their view of us as a vessel. Maybe if the medical system focused on helping us rather than letting a fetus escape its "flesh box", then we'd be somewhere.

And finally... he talked about post partum mental health... so I've been wanting to talk about this. It has recently become noticeable to me that human females have a hard time mentally after the birth of children meanwhile most animal females don't. Sure, there are cases where animals abandon offspring, but I chalk that up to not being prepared to care for offspring. Nature usually prioritizes an adult over a newborn. Also the abandonment of offspring is something I only really hear about in domesticated animals (and animals in zoos so environmental distress or lack of knowledge), of whom we have fucked over in so many ways through selective breeding. Shit even domestic bettas and angelfish, who are usually good parents, have this issue in domestication. But why is it that other animals don't have nearly as many post partum issues as humans. I'll say it, I believe post partum mental distress is largely due to societal dynamics. Sure, hormones are off, but the society we live in only fuels this. It's like when you're on your period. You feel off but it's more a loss of tolerance. The rise in estrogen near and after birth can cause you to already be a bit unbalanced, but let's add some situations onto it. You're going to be the primary caretaker because of modern male incompetence, then you're going to lose sleep which causes more instability, then you're expected to still cook and clean, and men in most countries don't get paternity (ohhhh I wanna tell yall a story about that so baddddd... its in the comments if ur up for it) so youre left alone with a screaming child while trying to heal and getting no sleep and probably not seeing the sun because youre busy and thats a major mood stabilizer (as someone with a mood disorder) all for the father to come home and play with the infant and pass it right back to you. And we haven't even gotten into the culture surrounding it. Women are expected to put on a loving maternal persona while fathers remain the same. For men being a father is prideful and gives you all these positive characteristics like strength... but for mothers your mind is deemed more simplistic, your identity is erased. People see pregnancy and motherhood as a performance and you are the lead actress. Youre treated differently, percieved differently, and thats fueled by bioessentialism. New moms do not feel more "loving" towards an infant than new fathers. Both secrete oxytocin, it comes with the monogamous, biparental animal package dumbass. Why would I be more loving towards something that sucks my boob off and ripped me open. So while I'm not trying to discredit post partum depression, I'm absolutely saying that societal issues are the pushing force. Im also pretty sure post partum statistics fluctuate based on country, and that in countries with paternity and a more equal dynamic have lower cases. But I'm not mentally stable enough myself to look into it, I know "trust me bro" type shit.

In conclusion 🤓 I'm tired of people seeing female pain and not finding ways to help it. The female body is strong, but it also needs care. You wouldn't expect a person with a broken leg to win a marathon. That's the whole reason males stay with females is to. Do. Their. Part. Idc if I'm picky, but literally, any talk on kids or pregnancy leaves me so dissatisfied. Expect men to start acting like an expectant father and partner during pregnancy. Your job is to comfort, provide, learn how to ease pains, provide emotional labor, drive and GO TO appointments (I think if it was even really "about life" they would look into male health too but that's a convo for another day), pay for appointments, be ready to help in case an emergency, so much more. Cuz it's always "don't drink while pregnant!" But how come the baby daddy can be at the bar with his friends? What if I go into labor? He needs to stay sober too I'm not his broodmare! The way men act like it has nothing to do with them because "well uhhhh I not carry a baby 🤷‍♂️" makes me so mad. As a new father too, they think "well man don't feed baby 🤤" like there isn't so much more. Imo, the man should be doing housework, taking care of the infant besides breastfeeding, and caring for a post partum partner. Even with breastfeeding, you can be involved. Take the infant when it's done eating, sit with your partner, provide company, and bond with your family. I've come to the conclusion that men don't want partners they want a collection. Men cannot accept that they have a weaker role while still being involved. Either he's big strong man or it's weak and my business. And the men that cheer from the side see it as "well she does most of it so that obviously means it's all her business but I'll just tell her she's soooooo strong" not like... telling other men how to do their job. Men are pathetic. Want credit for zero effort.

[kylejsugarman]

Are there any AU² thoughts you're having that you haven't gotten an excuse to share yet? I love the concept so much!!

anons flexing on me by figuring out how to superscript the 2.....au squared is so self-indulgent that i hesitate to make posts just to say silly, cutesy things. but i cant get enough of jesse coming to skyler with childcare questions because he hates to ask his own mom for help and shes the only person he knows who also Has a baby. skyler is initially super resistant, but jesse is so goddamn sincere and as obnoxious and sometimes clueless as he is, he really Wants to take good care of baby and its kind of refreshing to be around someone who actually loves their child rather than loving them in a technical, abstract sense (<- walt). hes like "hey missus white um. uh. are u supposed to like. brush ur baby's teeth" and skyler's like (taking the world's longest drag from her cigarette with her eyes closed). skyler's tolerance for jesse remains mostly limited, but she does field his questions and she does love baby and she does somewhat reluctantly show jesse how to put hair up because baby was born with like a full head of hair and he doesnt know what the fuck to do with it and if she smiles during most of the process, its just because she likes doing baby hair and holly's not old enough for pigtails yet.

au squared captivity arc is also like. particularly oughhh because uncle jack makes it clear from the jump that if jesse steps out of line, they will kill baby. they will kill his two-year-old and make him watch and then take him right back here to keep working. so even when the chances to potentially escape present themselves, jesse cant force himself to act until everyone is literally shot to pieces and too Dead to follow through (and even then he looks over his shoulder for the rest of his life). jesse pulls the gun on todd in the desert, the clearest shot he's had at escaping so far, and todd just says "hey. u dont have to do this. i don't think it'd be very good for ur daughter. :(" not even in a threatening way. almost like todd means it in like an emotional sense. it would hurt her if u hurt anyone else :( and then todd takes it one step further and says "hey. why dont we get a pizza or something? we'll go back downtown and pick something up and maybe drive by where she's at. just drive by. that'd be nice, yeah?? u did real good work today, u deserve a treat. what's ur favorite pizza topping?" and jesse crumbles. he sits on the floor of the front seat at todd's feet like a dog, not allowed to look out the window and having to believe todd when he says "yep, i think thats the new place shes at. looks pretty nice :)" its foolish to trust him, but jesse does anyway and closes his eyes and just imagines that hes passing by baby. hes seeing her little freckled face, her smile with the big gap between her two pearly front teeth, her tiny hand reaching out to grab onto his sleeve. for a second, hes with her. he may never, ever see her again because he may be trapped in this nightmare forever, he may have to work for eternity to keep the gang away from her, but for a second, jesse is close to his baby again.

on a lighter note, jesse is stupid impressed when baby starts imitating the animal sounds she hears on her little mechanical farm toy and shows this new talent off to Everyone. skinny and badger are barely through the door before jesse's like "SHUT THE FUCK UP. SHUT UP. check this out." mike staring vacantly at crusty flip phone video after crusty flip phone video of baby saying "moo". jesse even brings baby with him to show walt and is just beaming with pride and also silently hoping walt thinks that his daughter is super smart and walt's like "sure, whatever, have u killed gus yet"

[lesbians4kurt]

when you know, you know

happy holidays, @luckynumber4 @ronald-speirs @lena-basilone idk which one to tag :3 i was ur secret santa, here to feed u sledgefu!!!!!! i hope u like it :D

word count: 13.4k

summary: Eugene, a burnt-out Ph.D. candidate, finds himself carpooling with Snafu, a complete stranger, on their way to Burgie's wedding.

The humid evening air of May had long since swept over Auburn as Eugene pages through countless notes, the sound of rustling paper permeating his apartment. It’s month three of researching for his Ph.D. dissertation, and although he knows this is only the beginning, that in a year he’ll most likely still be working on it, he’s already experiencing all the warning signs of burnout. He’s managed these past few months to follow the strict schedule he’d created, keeping himself fully on track with every scrap of discipline he possesses, but an itching restlessness had begun burrowing itself in the back of his brain last week, and his concentration has been off ever since. He needs to find a new angle, take a little break, and approach the daunting process with new eyes. He just needs to hold out for another week: Burgie’s wedding. 

Burgie is a close friend from Eugene’s undergrad days, they had even shared an apartment for a few semesters. They meet up every few months for a drink and catch up, texting every other week or so. Eugene wishes they could meet more frequently, but he hardly has time to see his family, let alone friends. Burgie had gotten engaged about a year ago, and Eugene is looking forward to his upcoming wedding as a chance to wind down. He’s happy for Burgie too, of course; no one deserves happiness as much as him, the most kindhearted person Eugene knows. 

Eugene closes his eyes and sighs. He can’t stay focused at all. He just needs to hang on to his last thread of motivation for a little longer, but every task seems impossible. He sits back in his chair and rubs a hand across his face, figuring he’d close his eyes for a moment before continuing. Maybe he’d take a break for a snack in a minute, drink some water, turn on a meditation… 

Bzzz. 

Eugene jolts awake 40 minutes later, curled up in his chair, back stiff. He silently thanks whoever is texting him. That was stupid, if he had kept sleeping he might not have woken up until his morning alarm. He almost drops his phone trying to unlock it and squints his tired eyes as he tries to read the screen. Weirdly, the text is from Burgie. It’s well past midnight and Eugene has never known him to stay up so late. If it was someone else, he might ignore the text, but he decides to open it.

Hey, call me when you see this.

Oh? Eugene’s skin prickles with worry and he immediately presses the call button. 

Burgie spares Eugene’s nerves by picking up immediately. “Hello?”

“Hey, what did you need?” Eugene asks, hoping nothing has gone wrong with the wedding.

“Hey, I was wondering if I could ask you a favor.” Burgie’s cadence is upbeat, melting away the icy worry that had frozen over Eugene’s chest.

“Sure, anything,”

“Okay, so, one of my best friends lives in New Orleans, and his car gave out on him a few days ago. I was wondering if you could pick him up on your way here. I assume you’re driving?” 

Burgie’s right, he would be driving. Eugene has had an extreme phobia of airplanes ever since childhood, making the numerous family vacations he went on a humiliating ordeal. He would get sick or start hyperventilating a few minutes after take-off like clockwork. Logically, he knows he’s safe, but fear isn’t logical. The combination of heights and confined space is just too much for him to handle. Despite his phobia, his mother insists on going on trips that require a plane ride and is offended that he refuses to go on these vacations in adulthood.

“Yeah, I’ll be driving,” Eugene half chuckles before getting more serious. “So, who is he?”

“His name’s Snafu. Well, it’s Merriell Shelton, but we all called him Snafu, anyway,” Burgie says, a fondness so strong taking over his voice that Eugene can recognize it even over the phone. “He can’t really afford a plane ticket. I know it’s probably out of your way, but it would mean a lot to me if you could drive him.”

Eugene has to keep himself from sighing. He knows this detour will add about an hour or so to his drive, and he’ll have to drive over eight hours from New Orleans to Fort Worth with some guy he doesn’t even know. What will they talk about? Will it be awkward silence all the way? Will he have to drive him back too?

“Of course, Burgie. I’ll drive him for you,” Eugene ends up saying before thinking about it any further. The favor is simple, really, and he wouldn’t want Burgie to be missing one of his best friends at his own wedding. Plus, Burgie has been an amazing friend to Eugene, never giving up on him no matter how busy he is and never letting things become awkward between them. 

“Thanks, Eugene! Really, thank you.” Burgie sounds elated, putting a soft smile on Eugene’s face. “I can’t wait to see you. We’ve barely talked since you started your dissertation research.”

“I’ve barely talked to my own mother since I started,” Eugene jokes. “And you know how she is about phone calls.”

Burgie laughs and Eugene is reminded of how much he misses just talking to him.

They chat for a few more minutes before Burgie decides he needs to get to bed. After hanging up the phone, Eugene stretches before standing up and pacing for a few minutes. That short nap and talking to Burgie rejuvenated him, and despite it being past one in the morning, he decides he has enough energy to continue working for another hour before going to sleep. He pours himself a glass of water and grabs a few crackers before sitting back down at his desk, resuming. 

The next few days pass similarly: Eugene eats every meal at his desk as he researches and researches and researches, staying up late every night. He leaves his apartment every morning to meet with his professors or attend a class, but otherwise, he spends every waking moment on his research, his newfound motivation from the phone call sticking to him. He’s almost disappointed now that he’ll be leaving for the wedding soon as it will interrupt his productivity, but he reminds himself that upon his return he’ll probably be even more inspired. 

Four days before the wedding, Eugene realizes he hasn’t bought gifts yet and spends six frantic hours online shopping. If there’s one thing he’ll be eternally bad at it’s picking out gifts; he spends hours overthinking every purchase only to feel the gift he chooses is shallow and impersonal. Of course, this time proves no different. He buys Burgie and his bride-to-be, Florence, a set of matching watches and a bottle of champagne. He knows people normally buy small kitchen appliances or home decor, but he eats TV dinners every night and the white walls of his apartment are blank, so he’s not very experienced in either of those departments. Plus, he has no idea what they already own or what they might need. As he plugs in his credit card information and confirms his purchase, he sighs and thanks God for two-day shipping. He lays awake in bed that night wondering if his gift properly conveys his love and appreciation for Burgie, and frets about it until the early hours of the morning before deciding to write a heartfelt card for good measure, drifting off to sleep. 

The following night, Eugene finds himself increasingly curious about this Snafu character he’ll be driving with for eight hours. Merriell “Snafu” Shelton, huh? He bites his lip as he opens his computer, quickly googling the name. The only relevant result is from one of those sketchy phonebook websites, and he immediately feels stupid and guilty. But not guilty enough to stop him from stalking Burgie’s Facebook for any signs of the guy. Again he finds nothing, and the wave of shame hits him again. He should be working anyway, but his curiosity is slowly morphing into anxiety and he really wishes he had asked Burgie a few more questions. He calms himself by rationalizing: Burgie wouldn’t be friends with some insane weirdo. Everything will be fine. He closes the tabs he was using for stalking and continues his work.

Two days before the wedding is the day Eugene decides to depart. He knows his mother will be upset if she finds out that he drove right through Mobile without stopping by, so he’ll visit his parents first and spend the night there. Tomorrow he’ll leave Mobile, drive two hours to New Orleans, and then drive eight hours to Fort Worth, so he better be well rested. He spends his morning and early afternoon packing up a suitcase and waiting for his parcels to arrive in the mail, practically jumping the postman when he rounds the corner. He wraps them carefully in gold paper before placing them in a gift bag, then struggles to write a heartfelt card for about 40 minutes. He’s ready to leave the house at 3 PM and packs the gifts into his backseat, perhaps being overly cautious when he buckles the bag in with the seatbelt. As he sits down in the driver’s seat, he thinks he should probably call his mother to let her know he’s coming. He quickly shakes this thought out of his head, knowing that any phone conversation with her gets strung out for several hours and ends with him nearly tearing his hair out with stress and annoyance. Instead, he shoots his father a text as a warning and puts his phone on silent in case his mother ends up calling him in response before starting his car and taking off. He’s the type of driver others get angry being behind, the type people assume are old ladies and scream at angrily as they pass. He likes to say he’s meticulous and cautious, but any passenger he’s ever had groans at his slow pace. It occurs to him that Snafu will probably complain about it too, and the thought somehow embarrasses him even though he hasn’t even met Snafu yet.

He arrives in Mobile four hours later, mentally preparing himself to face his parents as he pulls into the driveway. The house of his childhood stands before him in all its grandeur. It’s an old manor house built in the 1800s, with the rest of Mobile slowly rising around it. It stands only one story high, but to Eugene, it’s always been an imposing structure that never quite felt like home. There’s no denying it’s a beautiful house; tall willow trees frame the wraparound porch and its accompanying Greek revival-style pillars, and large flowerbeds color the ground below. A large, freshly mowed yard stands between Eugene and the front door. He takes a deep, shaky breath before taking the first steps. He never likes visiting here, everything is so suffocating.

As he approaches the large, mahogany door he has the same debate with himself he always does when he comes here. Does he knock or just walk in? The further removed he becomes from living here the more the answer to that question becomes knock, but his mother always makes a comment about him knocking, about how this is his home. Regardless, he decides to knock and waits anxiously as he hears rushed footsteps approach the door. It swings open aggressively and there his mother is, a huge smile splitting her face in two, every tooth on display. Before he can even tell himself to smile back, she pulls him into a tight embrace. He drops his bag to the floor before awkwardly wrapping his arms around her and squeezing his eyes shut. It begins.

“I’m just so happy to see you, Eugene,” she gasps into his ear, and for a moment he’s scared she’s going to cry. She pulls away from him and brings her hands to his face, cupping his cheeks.

“I missed you too, Mom,” Eugene says sheepishly. It’s not that he doesn’t. She can just… be too much. Too hot and cold.

She rubs his arms a few times before taking his hand and leading him through the door. “Well, let’s get you inside. You look exhausted. I can tell you haven’t been eating properly, Eugene. You’re going to make yourself sick.”

He doesn’t reply and merely lets himself be dragged inside, resigning himself to his fate. She’d probably make him eat three meals worth of food now. 

“You didn’t have to knock, Eugene. You’ve come home,” she says, clasping his hand a little tighter as she speaks, leading him through the hall. 

Eugene suppresses an eye roll in response. Of course, that comment. It’s like clockwork.

She stops once they enter the dining room where his father is seated at the head, reading a newspaper as he waits for dinner. A genuine smile softens Eugene’s face when he sees him.

His father puts down the newspaper. “Hey, Fritz!” he says, standing and making his way up to Eugene to properly greet him. Fritz is an old nickname from when Eugene was a little boy. He’s not sure where it came from, or when it started, but his father has affectionately called him that for as long as he can remember.

“Hey, Dad,” Eugene says softly, pulling his father into a hug.

“It’s good to see you, son.”

They hold the hug for a good minute, just swaying back and forth with the occasional pat on the back. If this house isn’t home, his father’s embrace is. He’s filled with a sense of comfort and ends the hug with the strength he needs to get through the rest of the visit.

“Dinner’s just about ready, Eugene. Have a seat and I’ll be out with it in a minute,” Mary Frank says, rubbing his arm again before walking off toward the kitchen.

Eugene turns to his father, who holds out a hand toward the table. They both take a seat, Eugene to his father’s left, the same place he always sat as a boy. His mother will sit across from him to his father’s right. The table is already set and Eugene feels a little bad that he interrupted their dinner preparations, or that he didn’t arrive early enough to help. 

“So, Fritz,” his father begins. “How’s the research?”

“It’s been… overwhelming,” Eugene replies earnestly. “I enjoy it and everything but… The fact that it’s been three months and I’ve barely even started…”

“I know, it’s a long road ahead of you. I remember those days myself.” His father reaches out and places a reassuring hand on Eugene’s own. “I know you’ll make it through. Just keep persevering.”

Eugene’s soft smile from earlier returns as his eyes almost glaze over with tears. He hadn’t realized, but he’d needed to hear those words. Especially from his father. To feel like someone was proud of him.

The moment is gone when his mother returns, placing a shepherd's pie in the middle of the table. “I wish I’d known you were coming earlier, I would’ve cooked more,” she says. “We need to fatten you back up. Remember when your brother first lived on his own? He didn’t eat right and almost landed himself in the hospital!” She’s exaggerating. Sure, Eddie hadn’t been eating properly, but he just felt lethargic and lightheaded. He hadn’t even gone to the doctor, let alone the hospital.

“Mom, I’ve lived on my own for the good part of a decade now,” Eugene deadpans, pushing his food around with his fork.

“Has it really been that long? And still no girlfriend?”

Oh. Now she’d struck a chord.

“Mom,” Eugene says firmly. “We talked about this.”

She doesn’t look up at him, merely takes a bite of her dinner as she answers, “Well, I haven’t accepted it.”

“Now, Mary Frank–” his father begins.

Eugene all but throws his fork down on his plate. “I’m gay,” he seethes out through gritted teeth. 

“Oh, do you have to make an argument out of everything, Eugene?!” She slams a hand on the table, making her plate clatter in its place. “Am I not allowed to hope for your happiness?”

“But you’re not! And you started it!” Eugene can feel his face flushing as his hands clench painfully into fists. “I…” He makes brief eye contact with his father and wills himself to calm down, knowing this isn’t worth it. She’ll never understand. She doesn’t want to. “I can’t… I’m gonna go out to Deacon’s spot.”

Eugene wipes his mouth with a napkin and has to force himself not to throw it down on the table. As he stands, his mother calls out to him to finish eating, but he ignores her as he makes his way out the back door. He shuts the door behind him and takes a moment to close his eyes and enjoy the evening air. The sun is setting, painting the sky a beautiful pink, and he can smell the bay in the breeze. Even if he doesn’t miss this house, he does miss Mobile. The flatlands and plains of northern Alabama just don’t hold the same charm as the gulf. He turns his gaze from the sky to a group of willow trees across the expanse of the backyard and begins walking toward them. As he approaches, a small bench comes into view, along with a sizable rock that protrudes from the ground: Deacon’s grave.

Deacon was Eugene’s childhood dog, a birthday present from his father the day he turned nine. He was the best dog anyone could have asked for. He slept in Eugene’s bed, comforted him when he was sad, and followed along when he went on bike rides. Leaving him behind when he went to college was one of the hardest things Eugene’s ever had to do, no matter how silly that sounds. Deacon was hit by a car two months into that first semester and Eugene was devastated, not leaving his dorm for anything but class. Burgie spent weeks trying to cheer him up enough to go out and have fun again. Eugene went home a few weekends later, and by then his father had buried Deacon under the willow trees. He spent nearly the entire visit just sitting at the grave. The next time he visited, his father had placed a bench there. Eugene’s never thanked him for it, an unspoken favor with unspoken gratefulness. 

“Hello, boy, it’s me,” Eugene whispers to the ground at his feet. He sits on his haunches for a moment, stroking the grass in front of the stone with a hesitant hand, before sitting on the bench. He lets silence overtake him and tries not to think of the argument at the table. He wishes he hadn’t risen to his mother’s comment. He wishes she hadn’t said anything at all. He wishes he never came. Guilt burns in his chest for admitting that thought, but he knows it’s true. Everything will be fine. He can go to bed early, and tomorrow he’ll be on his way. It’s fine.

Too soon, Eugene hears the back door swing open and footsteps approaching. When he looks up, he sees his father, and his shoulders drop a little. Small mercies. 

“Fritz… Eugene, I’m sorry for what your mother said back there,” he says, sitting down beside his son. “I just spoke to her, and–”

“It’s okay, Dad,” mutters Eugene. “I know how she feels. It’s never going to change, no matter how many talks you have with her.”

“I’m not sure that’s fair, son. She’s making progress–”

“No,” he interrupts. “No, Dad. It’s been years. I don’t want any excuses anymore. All I want... All I want is for her to just love me. Love me without all these conditions.” Eugene’s voice cracks a bit on the last sentence, and his eyes lock on Deacon’s grave, not daring to look at his father in case the tears in his eyes are obvious.

They sit in silence. Eugene hears his father’s mouth open a few times as though to speak, but it closes again after a few seconds each time. Ultimately, he places a hand on Eugene’s shoulder in comfort, and they just sit in each other’s presence for a few moments. Eugene feels numb. The tears have gone from his eyes and an empty cavity opens in his chest like quicksand. His father couldn’t deny anything. A small part of him, an inch of his being, had hoped that he’d been wrong, that he’d just been misunderstanding his mother, that she loves him fully and has his best interest at heart, just with a funny way of showing it. But no, he was right all along, and this silence is all the proof he needs. 

As the silence sinks into awkwardness, his father squeezes his shoulder and stands up from the bench. “Give me a minute, I’ll be back with a check for you.”

“Dad, that’s really not necessary. I–”

“Just let me do this.” His father turns away without another word, walking back toward the house.

If there’s one thing Eugene dislikes about his father, it’s his generosity. His parents are paying what scholarships and grants don’t cover for his education, and his father insists on paying half the rent for his apartment. Eugene has tried to tell them that between his stipend, tutoring, and being a teaching and research assistant, he can pay his own way now, but they refuse to listen, especially his father. He’s a grown man, and it makes it uncomfortable to think he’s still dependent on his parents. 

His father returns in a few minutes, check in hand, and Eugene reluctantly accepts it but makes a mental note to shred it without depositing it later. He doesn’t want to take any more of his father’s money. Afterward, they say a tense goodnight, and Eugene finds himself staring up at the ceiling of his childhood bedroom. It’s early, only around 9 PM, and he feels restless, especially in this environment. The room is mostly barren, picked apart over the years. All the books on the shelf had been donated or taken to his apartment, all his old clothes given away, and some of his furniture sold in a yard sale. The room he used to spend all day in couldn’t make him more uncomfortable. 

Eugene tries to concentrate on falling asleep, knowing he has a long day ahead of him. He tosses and turns for what seems like hours before his thoughts land on Snafu. Oh, yeah. He almost forgot he’s supposed to pick him up tomorrow. Will they get along? Being trapped in a confined space with someone you can’t stand for eight hours seems grim, so he hopes for the best. What does he look like? What did he get Burgie as a gift? Will it make Eugene’s gift look stupid? These thoughts carry him to sleep.

Eugene’s mother wakes him the next morning, opening the bedroom door and calling out his name. He sits up and rubs his eyes before making sleepy eye contact with her. She gives him a weak smile before walking away. He groggily pries himself out of bed before getting ready for the day. It’s early, just past 6 AM, meaning he’d slept for maybe eight hours after all of that tossing and turning. He can’t fathom how his mother wakes up this early every day. She’s always had this habit for as long as he can remember, waking up with the sun and making breakfast. He can smell it now, the savory scent of eggs frying as he dresses himself. The thought of sitting down to eat with his mother is daunting after the events of the previous night, but he figures if she’s dead set on pretending nothing is wrong, he can play along.

Eugene greets his mother as he sits down for a breakfast of over-easy eggs and cheesy grits. It’s one of his favorites, and he figures maybe this is her way of apologizing. He’s grateful for the food, of course, but he has no appetite. Regardless, he takes a bite, determined to avoid giving the impression that he’s still upset. The two eat in silence until his father enters the room, sitting down at the table and pouring himself a mug of coffee. 

“Good morning,” his father greets, and the two murmur replies between bites of food. “Eugene, you mentioned in your text you’re headed to a wedding today?”

“Yeah, my friend Burgie’s wedding. From college,” says Eugene, staring down at his food. “He lives in Fort Worth, so it’s quite a ways.”

“Why didn’t you fly? It would’ve saved you some trouble,” his mother chimes in. She’s entirely serious and Eugene once again has to battle an eye roll.

“I’m terrified of flying, Mom,” he says flatly, taking a brief moment to close his eyes and quell the rising anger in his chest.

“You need to get over that childish fear, Eugene,” she almost snorts. “It’s a plane ride, not skydiving.”

“I felt like a drive,” asserts Eugene loudly. He bites back the argument that’s attempting to claw its way out of his throat and goes back to eating.

“Alright,” is all his mother says in reply, and the three of them lapse back into a silence that continues for the rest of the meal.

When 7 AM rolls around, Eugene decides it’s time for him to leave and is filled with relief. He can’t stand the stuffy atmosphere of this house for much longer. Even the idea of being in a car with a total stranger is more appealing than spending even one more minute in his mother’s company. He gathers his things and meets his parents at the door, bag in hand.

“Well, I’ll be off,” he says, discomfort clear in his voice. 

His father hugs him first. “I love you, son. See you soon.”

Eugene leans into the hug, calmed slightly by the embrace. “I love you too, Dad.”

Eventually, they separate, and Eugene is forced to face his mother, whose eyes appear to be filling with tears. She hugs him abruptly, sobbing into his shoulder, and he’s left frozen in place.

“Come visit more often, Eugene. Please,” she whispers, a fist full of Eugene’s shirt, squeezing him so hard it hurts. “I love you.”

He’s not sure how to react and merely rubs her back, forcing out a numb, “I love you too.”

They say their final goodbyes, Eugene’s mother still sobbing, now in his father’s arms. He gives them a wave and steps outside, quickly shutting the door behind him. His stress is immediately alleviated after leaving his mother’s presence, and he is left with a bittersweet longing for human connection. For someone who will understand. He finds solace, however, in the bright morning sky as he steps back across that large yard, toward his car. Time to get this shit done.

Eugene opens his texts from Burgie and plugs Snafu’s address into the GPS on his phone. Once he begins, he can fully concentrate on driving, still at his cautious snail’s pace. Focusing on the road and the directions keeps him from thinking about the visit with his parents, his mother’s crying face, and how the two of them will never understand each other. Well, maybe he thinks about it a little and has to shake the thought from his head, but he mostly focuses on driving. 

The drive goes smoothly, except for when Eugene struggles to stave off a panic attack crossing over Lake Ponchartrain. He hates driving over any body of water, let alone on the five-and-a-half-mile-long, 30-foot-high Twin Span Bridge. He pants for air as he inches forward toward the high-rise section, cars beeping behind him. His sweaty palms clench the steering wheel tightly as the road elevates beneath him, gritting his teeth. Once he’s over the hump, he breathes a sigh of relief and feels a bit better about the remainder of the bridge. He drives on smoothly but wishes the water would stop reflecting the sun into his eyes. At least he wasn’t forced to go over the Causeway. He considers that bridge a deathtrap and has always avoided taking any route that includes the nearly 24-mile-long monstrosity.  

Once Eugene is past the bridge, he continues down I-10. He’s officially in New Orleans East. Slowly, the area around the road transforms from unkempt trees and shrubs to a neighborhood. Duplexes with chainlink fences roll by, some surrounded by empty lots. The area had clearly never fully recovered from Katrina all those years ago, as Eugene remembers taking a day trip to an amusement park that was in the area as a child. The GPS announces that he’s arriving at his destination on the right, and he pulls into the driveway. The house is identical to many others he’s passed by, with white panels that could use cleaning and a porch covered in chipping paint. A lump of anxiety rises in his throat, which he swallows with guilt. How childish to judge someone he doesn’t know based on where they live. He double-checks his text message from Burgie to confirm that this is indeed the correct house and to find out which apartment in the duplex is Snafu’s. Knocking on the wrong door would embarrass Eugene so thoroughly that he might never recover, so it’s worth it to be sure.

After quelling his anxiety with a few deep breaths, Eugene steps out of his car and heads up the stairs of the porch, cringing as the steps creak loudly under his feet. He stands in front of Snafu’s door motionless for a second, gathering courage, before knocking. He waits and waits, ninety seconds passing with no response. He battles with himself internally on whether or not it’s too soon to knock again before deciding he has to as there’s been no noise from inside. He thumps the door louder and longer the second time around, hoping that doesn’t come off as rude. There’s no response again and Eugene begins to doubt himself. Maybe he had read the address wrong or the apartment number, or maybe he hadn’t been loud enough. Just as he raises a fist to knock again the door flies open and he jumps back, heart racing. 

The man at the door is approximately Eugene’s age, a few inches shorter with dark, curly hair. His eyes are squinted and his face is puffy, and his tan skin is on full display as he’s shirtless. Eugene’s knocking must have woken him from a deep sleep. He blinks slowly a few times before grumbling out, “Who the fuck are you?”

Eugene shuts his mouth, which had been left agape, and straightens himself out. “Um, I’m Eugene Sledge, Burgie’s friend. You’re Snafu, right? I’m here to pick you up.” He reaches out to shake hands but avoids eye contact. In fact, he avoids looking at the shirtless man altogether and feels his cheeks burning a dusty pink. He hopes he doesn’t seem like an idiot. God, why does he always have to make a fool of himself around attractive people?

Snafu looks down at Eugene’s outstretched hand for a moment but ignores it, instead replying, “Yeah, that’s me.” 

Eugene stands in silence for a moment, shoving his hands into his pockets clumsily when he realizes his handshake has been rejected. Still staring at a spot behind Snafu, he waits for him to continue speaking. He doesn’t, and Eugene's skin crawls with discomfort. He clears his throat and makes accidental eye contact with Snafu, whose eyes are now wide, gazing directly at Eugene’s face with a smirk. Eugene’s mouth goes dry under that gaze, those piercing blue eyes making him feel small. He’s not sure whether Snafu’s smirk is playful or cruel, but either way, he’s sure the intention is to make him uncomfortable.

“Um, did Burgie not tell you I was coming?” Eugene finally says, licking his dry lips, not looking away from Snafu’s eyes. He feels trapped in the eye contact, almost hypnotized. 

“He did, I’m jus’ surprised you’re here so early,” Snafu replies. His smirk dissipates as he lets out a catlike yawn, fully exposing his angular jaw. 

Eugene swallows hard, finally looking away from Snafu’s face. “Well, um, long drive ahead of us,” he says. “Burgie wants to get together for dinner tonight anyway, so we should get going.”

“Okay.”

Before Eugene can even contemplate a reply, Snafu slams the door in his face. Not sure what to do, he reaches for the doorknob before realizing that’s probably a bad idea; he can’t just walk into the guy’s house. He hears a faint rummaging from inside and slowly presses an ear to the door, curiosity getting the better of him. Snafu must be packing up, and by the sound of it, he’s in a hurry, smashing things about. After a minute or two, the noise dissipates, and hasty footsteps take its place. Eugene jerks away from the door, nearly taking one too many steps backward and falling down the stairs behind him. As he regains his footing, the front door swings open, and he pretends to be examining one of the porch columns intently.

Snafu emerges, fully clothed now with a duffle bag over his shoulder, and raises an eyebrow as though Eugene is the crazy one. “Let’s fuckin’ go. I thought you were in a hurry or whatever,” he says, pushing past Eugene toward the car.

Eugene stares at his back, confounded at Snafu’s audacity. As he follows behind, he realizes this drive might be even worse than he realized. Out of every possibility he had considered, he never imagined Snafu being this rude. Or attractive, but mostly the rude part.

“Where should I put my stuff?” Snafu asks once Eugene reaches the car, waving his duffle bag in front of him. 

“Just a second,” Eugene says. “Let me pop the trunk.” He feels Snafu’s gaze on the back of his neck as he unlocks the door. He feels awkward like a kid having to read aloud in class. Can’t this guy look at anything else?

Snafu snorts. “You were standin’ a few yards away from your car the whole time an’ you still locked the door?”

Eugene just lets out a shaky fake laugh, not sure what to say. He’s an anxious person who locks his car when he pumps gas. He presses a button and hears the trunk pop before getting up out of the car.

“Typical,” says Snafu under his breath, and Eugene can hear the smirk on his lips. It’s like Snafu’s provoking him, but Eugene has no idea why. Maybe just to be an asshole.

Eugene helps him find a spot in the trunk for the duffle bag, having to shove aside his own giant suitcase. Once they finish, they get settled in the car, Eugene in the driver’s seat and Snafu sitting shotgun. As Eugene buckles in, he realizes Snafu didn’t seem to have a gift with him, unless it was in the duffle bag. Maybe he just got them a gift card. What if Burgie asked for no gifts and Eugene just forgot? The anxiety surrounding gift-giving consumes him for a second, and he even considers asking Snafu about it before reconsidering.  He discreetly turns to look at Snafu, who’s staring blankly ahead as he bites his thumbnail. Eugene shakes his head with a sigh, starting the car and the GPS route. Forget that notion he had about Burgie not being friends with any insane weirdos, there’s one in the seat right next to him.

Eugene backs out of the driveway and they begin the long drive to Fort Worth, the car filled with an awkward silence. After Snafu’s behavior at the house, Eugene hadn’t anticipated him keeping his mouth shut like this. The silence is crushing and unbearable and Eugene is almost tempted to start some small talk, but then figures that it might be for the best that they stay quiet. Snafu is off-putting and Eugene can’t read him at all, has no idea how to respond to him. Yeah, silence is best.

Around ten minutes into the drive, Eugene sees Snafu move in his peripheral vision, and the car radio begins playing. Snafu flips through the stations before landing on 90.7 and turning it up. The smooth beats of an RnB song fill the air and Snafu slumps in his seat.

“Hey,” snaps Eugene, glancing repeatedly from the road to Snafu. “I don’t like listening to the radio when I drive. It’s distracting.”

“I’ll turn it down real quiet,” Snafu says, hand already reaching for the dial.

“No, this is my car.” Eugene reaches over and turns the radio off himself, bumping Snafu’s hand out of the way. He can take some rudeness and maintain cordiality, but distracting him while driving is where Eugene draws the line. 

“Jesus, then, okay.”

They lapse into silence again, and, if he didn’t know any better, Eugene would say Snafu is pouting. He pulls his legs on the seat with him, hugging them with one arm, the other propping his head up as he stares intently out the window. As Eugene peeks at him, he realizes in horror that Snafu has taken off his shoes, but decides not to say anything. As long as he’s not being distracting, it doesn’t matter. Eugene just needs to get through this drive, then he can come up with some excuse later as to why he can’t drive Snafu back. Maybe he’ll say his mother is seriously ill or something.

“Listen,” Snafu starts, and Eugene almost jumps in his seat. “I can’t handle sittin’ here for eight hours in silence other than that damn GPS, so…”

Eugene groans internally as he realizes Snafu is about to make conversation. Great. “So, what?” he grunts in response.

Snafu snickers, puzzling Eugene. “How d’you know Burgie? Let’s start there.” Eugene doesn’t have to look to know that smirk is back.

Eugene sighs, resigning himself to his fate. There’s no way he can avoid talking now. “Um, we went to college together. What about you?”

“We served together when he was on active duty. Both got stationed in Australia,” Snafu says. Eugene should’ve guessed this. He’s been wondering how Burgie would’ve been such good friends with someone from a different state, especially someone this weird. The Marine Corps makes perfect sense. Burgie had attended Auburn on an ROTC scholarship and paid it back with four years of active duty service, meeting Florence along the way during his time in Australia. And Snafu, apparently.

“Wait, have you met Florence, then?” Eugene asks with genuine curiosity, the dread that had previously been present in his voice gone. “The timing was never right for me. I’ve gone to visit him and vice versa, but I didn’t get to meet her yet.”

“Oh yeah,” says Snafu. “I was there when they met. She’s real sweet, her and Burgie are perfect for each other.”

Eugene glances at him again and sees a soft, pure smile gracing Snafu’s face. The earnestness of it is startling, starkly contrasting with the grouchiness and arrogance of before. He’s beautiful.

Realizing he’s been staring, Eugene clears his throat and looks away. “I’m really glad Burgie met his person. He deserves it.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Snafu says, and Eugene can feel his eyes again, but different this time. No smirk.

Silence returns, this time with a different flavor of awkwardness. Snafu is just staring at him, his body fully turned to face Eugene, and Eugene has no idea what to do. Snafu had been leading the conversation before, perhaps he’s now expecting Eugene to continue it?

Eventually, Eugene can’t take it anymore and caves. “So, um, what do you do?”

“I’m a truck driver,” Snafu answers. “Y’know, I just got home from four days on the road this morning. Y’woke me out of a dead sleep.”

“Oh, uh, sorry,” Eugene mumbles, cringing internally. “You can sleep now if you want…”

“Naw,” says Snafu, leaning closer to Eugene over the center console. “Then I wouldn’t get to find out more ‘bout you, would I? What d’you do?”

Eugene blushes, not sure where this change in attitude is coming from, why Snafu is suddenly so interested. Also, he knows he’s about to sound like a rich kid, which he is, but still. He tries his best to edge away from Snafu without obstructing his driving, saying, “I’m working toward a Ph.D. in botany. I’m going to be a professor.”

“Oh, so you’re smart, okay,” says Snafu.

Eugene clenches his hand on the steering wheel, wanting to change the subject.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Snafu continues. “I could barely finish high school, I hated it so much.”

“Oh, well, I just really love botany,” says Eugene, trying to relax. “Once I started learning more I didn’t wanna stop.”

“So you’re gonna be a doctor, huh? Doctor Eugene?”

“Sledge, Doctor Eugene Sledge.”

Snafu merely hums in response, and Eugene feels strange. He really can’t tell what Snafu’s thinking, his asshole façade is impenetrable. Eugene can sense something underneath, but it’s well hidden. “Snafu.” Not Merriell. What does Snafu mean anyway? Eugene wants to ask where the hell that nickname comes from, but doesn’t want to come off as offensive. Maybe he’ll ask Burgie later.

“Can I smoke in here?” Snafu asks nonchalantly, jolting Eugene from his thoughts. 

He glances over, making brief eye contact, and Snafu shakes a pack of cigarettes and a lighter at him. “Um, sure,” Eugene responds without really thinking, taken aback by the sudden question.

Snafu rolls his window down and lights a cigarette, taking a long drag. Eugene has to stop himself from wincing at the smell, instantly regretting his quick decision. He tries his best to ignore it and focus on the road, but it’s ten times more distracting than the radio. At least maybe this will make Snafu like him. Not that he gives a shit. He glances at Snafu only to find the other man staring back, smoke spilling from his nostrils.

“You smoke?” he asks, holding up the cigarette box again.

“No,” says Eugene. There’s a beat of silence before he decides to attempt humor, “I would be a bad almost-doctor if I did.”

Snafu snorts. “That’s bullshit; you’re gonna be a fuckin’ plant doctor.”

“Hey, a doctor’s a doctor,” Eugene says, smiling without even realizing.

“Ain’t smoke like plant food anyway? And ashes fertilizer?” 

“Not if your cigarette butt catches plants on fire.”

“Who the fuck’s doing that shit? I never burned no plants down.”

Eugene gives him a look, a grin still on his face, and they both laugh, and Snafu doesn’t seem like such an asshole. It’s like when he was talking about Burgie; his smile lights up the whole car. Eugene has to remind himself to look away, eyes back on the road. The banter feels good.

Silence returns, but this time more comfortable. Well, aside from the suffocating cigarette smell. Snafu continues chainsmoking and Eugene is all but retching. The smell has always been something that easily bothered him, even passing a smoker on the street sometimes makes him nauseous. His temples pulse with a fierce migraine, which worsens with each passing minute, not aided by the fatigue of his early start this morning. When it becomes too much to bear, Eugene suggests pulling off the highway to eat at a rest stop and fill up the tank. Snafu agrees, and they drive another few miles to the next exit.

The rest stop isn’t very big, just a Popeye’s, a McDonald’s, and a local chain gas station Eugene doesn’t recognize. 

“Where d’you wanna eat?” Snafu asks as Eugene pulls into a parking space.

“I don’t eat McDonald’s,” says Eugene.

“What d’ya mean you don’t eat McDonald’s?” Snafu sounds almost offended.

Eugene looks over at him in confusion as he shifts the gear to park and turns the car off. “I’ve never eaten there. Ever. I just want to keep my streak.”

“Somethin’ about that jus’ feels classist,” Snafu says. “I don’t know if I can trust someone who thinks they're above McDonald’s.”

Eugene has no idea if he’s being serious. “If you really want to eat there it’s okay, I’ll just get a pretzel from the gas station or something.”

Snafu snickers. “Naw, I’m jus’ playin’. I don’t even want McDonald’s anyway.”

“Then.. What?” Eugene shakes his head in confusion before sighing. Why bother? He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to understand this guy’s sense of humor. “Anyway, so, Popeye’s then?”

“Sure.”

They cross the parking lot and enter the fast food joint. Eugene’s legs feel stiff and weak after all that sitting, and he tries to shake the pins and needles off without making it obvious. He fails, and Snafu stops to ask if he’s alright, causing him to flush in embarrassment. At the counter, they order their food. Eugene glances at Snafu out of the corner of his eye. He really is attractive. With the proximity, he can smell the lingering scent of cigarette smoke, but now, really looking at him, it doesn’t smell so bad. Suddenly, Snafu looks back at him with those startling eyes, and Eugene realizes it’s his turn to order. He sputters for a second, tripping over his words as he tells the employee what he wants. 

“Somethin’ on my face?” questions Snafu as they walk to the pickup counter.

“No,” Eugene answers, face beet red. He doesn’t turn to look at Snafu, he doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction. And he knows that smirk is back on Snafu’s face anyway, he could hear it in his voice.

Once their order is ready, they pick up their trays, Eugene letting Snafu lead him to a table. They take the first few bites of their food in silence. Eugene feels strangely shy about sitting face-to-face with Snafu now; they haven’t been properly face-to-face since they spoke at the door, and that seems like ages ago.

Snafu takes a loud slurp of his soda before asking, “So, where are you from? Burgie mentioned you drove out from Alabama.”

Eugene immediately swallows the food in his mouth, despite having not properly chewed it. He narrowly avoids choking, but his voice is still weak when he replies, “Oh, I’m from Mobile. I live in Auburn, though. Drove from there to Mobile yesterday, then down to New Orleans this morning.”

Snafu raises an eyebrow at his strained voice, but nods, continuing to eat.

Realizing it’s once again on him to continue the conversation, Eugene returns the question. “What about you?”

“I’m from New Orleans East. Lived in Baton Rouge for a while, y’know, after the storm, but… That city has a way of calling people back.” There’s something bittersweet and melancholic about the way Snafu speaks about his hometown, captivating Eugene. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt that strongly about Mobile.

“I haven’t spent much time in New Orleans,” says Eugene. “I’ve only been on a few day trips as a kid, to museums and stuff.”

 “I love it,” Snafu says without a pause, shrugging. “Shitty place, but… Yeah, I love it.” That glimmer is back on his face, the serene expression reserved for Burgie, banter, and now New Orleans. Eugene wonders how many other things can make him smile like that, and a part of him wants to try to find out.

“You must have missed it when you were in the Marines,” says Eugene.

Snafu laughs, “Let’s not get dramatic now.”

Eugene feels immediately embarrassed for asking, turning to look at the food on his tray and picking at it. He wishes he could throw a chicken tender at Snafu for being so annoying. Or that the booth would swallow him whole. Either one.

“Yeah, I did.”

Eugene looks up. “Huh?”

“I did actually miss New Orleans, though. Me and Burgie used to jus’ sit around on base and talk ‘bout home. Used to go to the grocery store and look for hot pockets, y’know. Somehow, they made us feel less homesick.” Snafu has a far-off look for a moment, then catches Eugene’s eye and they share a laugh. 

“Burgie and I used to have similar conversations in college,” Eugene says, smiling again. “Neither of us left the South, and I wasn’t even that far from home, but everything was still unfamiliar. Now I haven’t properly lived in Mobile ever since, and Burgie’s been all over the world...”

“Time flies, huh?” Snafu sighs.

“Yeah,” Eugene says. “Feels like yesterday and forever ago at the same time. And now he’s getting married!”

Snafu hums again, the same hum he gave in the car, and Eugene’s chest feels light for a reason he can’t place. They continue eating in silence. Eugene feels Snafu’s eyes on him repeatedly but decides not to return the eye contact. He wishes Snafu would at least stare less blatantly. He’s been doing it all day, just looking at Eugene. He’s not even trying to hide it; he doesn’t care that Eugene knows, it’s almost like he wants him to. Any normal person just looks away when they’re caught staring, but not him. Snafu’s just odd, and his behavior keeps Eugene on his toes. 

Once they’re done eating, Snafu reaches into Eugene's space and transfers the garbage onto his own tray. Eugene is puzzled by the unexpected favor but doesn’t dwell on it. They stop by the trash cans and make their way out to the car. The tank still needs to be filled, so Eugene backs out of the parking space and drives up to the gas station.

Before he steps out of the car, Snafu stops him. “Hey, why don’t I drive the rest of the way? You look like shit, you could use some sleep.”

Eugene’s heart drops. Does he look like shit? Is that why Snafu was staring at him this whole time? Does he have huge, ugly eyebags, is that all it was? He comes back to reality. He can’t let Snafu drive his car. “Uh, no. I’m fine,” he replies.

“C’mon, I don’t mind. Go ahead and sleep,” Snafu insists.

“No, uh, my car can be um. It can just act a bit weird, it’s best if I drive.” 

Snafu raises an eyebrow and Eugene can tell his words are less than convincing.

“Do y’think I’m a bad driver or somethin’?”

Okay, maybe Eugene does, but it’s only because of Snafu’s off-putting demeanor. He just seems like the type of person to tailgate someone and flash his high beams at them. 

He opens his mouth to reply, but Snafu cuts him off, saying, “I drive for a living. I’m a truck driver, remember?” 

Oh, yeah. Eugene had forgotten that detail. He can tell by Snafu’s tone of voice that he’s offended, and Eugene doesn’t blame him. He feels bad for assuming but is still apprehensive. “I don’t like other people driving my car,” he says. 

Snafu rolls his eyes obnoxiously. “Whatever, just don’t fall asleep at the wheel or some shit.” He sinks into his seat, pouting again. “You drive like my grandma, by the way.”

Eugene glares at him before finally stepping out of the car to fill the tank. He thought Snafu was going to spare him the grandma quip but he should’ve expected otherwise. As he stands at the meter, his eyes ache with fatigue and he feels a little woozy. The food has done nothing to help his tiredness, and all he wants is to curl up in the passenger seat and wake up in Fort Worth. Snafu’s offer almost seems tempting, but he only met the guy a few hours ago. It’s out of the question to trust him to drive Eugene’s car, even if he’s Burgie’s best friend. He jumps at a noise behind him, realizing he’d been closing his eyes and dozing off at the pump, with the tank already full. Snafu has stepped out of the car and is standing next to him now.

“Oh, alright,” Eugene gives in. “You drive the rest of the way.”

Snafu has an insufferable smug look on his face and immediately sits down in the driver's seat. Eugene returns the nozzle to the pump and makes his way to the passenger’s seat. Once he’s seated, he takes his keys out of his pocket and waves the one to his car at Snafu menacingly. 

“If you have even the slightest bit of road rage, I’m taking over,” he says, making direct eye contact.

Snafu snatches the keys from Eugene’s hand and rolls his eyes again. “Oh, please,” he grumbles under his breath. “I’m gonna get us there a lot faster than you would.”

To Snafu’s credit, he actually is a good driver. He’s completely focused on the road, finally using those big eyes of his for a good cause instead of just harassing Eugene. Snafu clicks on the radio again, still playing 90.7. The voice of a female soul vocalist floats through the car and Eugene’s eyelids grow heavy. He doesn’t want to leave Snafu’s driving unsupervised, so he attempts to fight sleep by repeatedly blinking, but it’s useless, he’s too tired. He’s had a long past two days. Weirdly, he feels more comfortable falling asleep in a car being driven by a stranger than in his childhood bedroom. Through heavy-lidded eyes, he gazes at Snafu, all jaw and tan skin. From this angle, Eugene can see the firm muscles of his arm as it rests on the steering wheel, his other lying on his thigh. He could feel Snafu’s eyes earlier; can Snafu feel his now? Does Snafu know that he looks back? His thoughts become foggy and he’s sleeping soundly within minutes.

He wakes around five hours later, 5 PM, with a severely dry mouth. He licks and smacks his lips as his eyes begin to focus. He tries sitting up and groans at his stiff neck, turning to the backseat to reach for a water bottle. 

“Hey, sleepin’ beauty,” Snafu laughs, turning and grinning at him. “We’re in Texas now. Gettin’ real close to the finish line. Only ‘bout an hour left.”

Eugene ignores him in favor of chugging the water, pausing every few seconds to swish it around and wet his lips with it. His mouth tastes terrible and he hopes his breath doesn’t stink.

“Y’know, I was thinkin’ while you were asleep,” Snafu prattles on. “Why d’ya have a gas car? Ain’t you all obsessed with nature? Shouldn’t you have an electric car or some shit? Lovin’ the Earth an’ stuff?”

Eugene scoffs internally but keeps ignoring him, choking as he downs the rest of his water. He hacks out a cough as his throat burns. Snafu keeps talking, not even taking notice. Tears fill Eugene’s eyes as he attempts to breathe normally. He clears his throat loudly in a final attempt to get his lungs working again.

“Are you okay?” Snafu finally stops ranting.

“Oh, I’m just great,” Eugene says shakily, rubbing at his watering eyes.

“I got super fuckin’ bored while you were asleep,” Snafu says. “Once we got to Texas I turned off the radio ‘cause none of the stations were playin’ soul no more.” He turns to Eugene and fully looks at him for the first time since he woke up. “You got a red mark on ya face from the seatbelt.” 

Eugene is too groggy to be embarrassed and feels around his face for the indent, massaging it when he finds it. “You crash into anything while I was asleep?”

“No,” Snafu deadpans, not taking the bait. Clearly, he doesn’t like this line of humor. 

“Shocking,” Eugene returns in the same flat tone. “Do you want some water?” 

“Sure,” Snafu says.

Eugene tries to hand him a bottle, but he waves it away with his free hand.

“Open it for me.” Snafu’s not asking, it’s a command. 

Eugene looks from the water bottle to Snafu a few times before complying. He tries to hand it to Snafu again, but instead of grabbing it he puts his free hand on the steering wheel and opens his mouth.

“No,” Eugene says with a sigh, not even bothering to be shocked at this point.

“Was worth a try.” Snafu turns to him with a smirk, reaching for the water bottle. Their fingers graze as Eugene hands it to him and Eugene is forced to consider if he’s doing this on purpose. Is all this weird behavior Snafu’s way of flirting? The staring, the smirking, the teasing? Snafu takes a long gulp of the water and Eugene watches as a droplet rolls down his chin and onto his throat. It wouldn’t be so bad if that was the case.

The remainder of the drive to Fort Worth is uneventful, just some casual banter here and there as Snafu follows the directions of the GPS. As they close in on their destination, Eugene realizes that he has no idea where Snafu is staying. 

“Wait, the GPS is set to my hotel,” Eugene says. 

“Okay,” Snafu replies blankly.

Eugene rolls his eyes. “Well, where are you staying?”

“With Burgie.”

“Let me change the destination, then.” Eugene hopes with every fiber of his being that they don’t have to backtrack too much. He doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. Yeah, Snafu’s hot, and he… doesn’t mind him, but being trapped in a tin box with anyone for this long would drive him insane. He needs to be alone. Luckily, the change of course only adds about twenty minutes to their ETA, and Eugene pats himself on the back for having the foresight to book a hotel close to Burgie’s apartment. He shoots Burgie a text to let him know they’ll be arriving soon.

As they approach Burgie’s apartment, Eugene wonders about Snafu. He must be closer to Burgie than Eugene himself. He’s staying with him, it seems like he didn’t get a wedding gift, and Burgie went to all this trouble to ensure Snafu was able to come. Some part of Eugene is sure that Burgie might have driven out to New Orleans East himself to pick up Snafu if Eugene wasn’t able to. It’s not jealousy, but there’s a hollow feeling in his chest. He’s disappointed, filled with the dismay that comes with realizing the person you feel closest to feels closer to someone else. It’s silly, the kind of thing a kid gets upset about, but he can’t help it. 

When they arrive, Eugene quickly exits the car and walks to the driver’s side, ready to switch places with Snafu.

Snafu’s laughing as he opens the door. “You look like some kinda butler tryna help me out of a carriage standin’ there like that.”

Eugene snorts, then feels awkward as they now stand face to face. He’s not sure what to say or if they should shake hands. “Uh, see you for dinner later, then,” he ends up saying.

Snafu grins a real smile, the one reserved for Burgie, banter, New Orleans, and now, Eugene. “‘Course,” he beams and gives Eugene a pat on the shoulder before walking away. 

Eugene stands, frozen, and watches him be buzzed into the apartment building. If he feels Eugene’s eyes, he doesn’t react. Once the door closes, Eugene snaps out of it and sits down in front of the wheel. He plugs his hotel into the GPS and hazily drives his way there. Once he’s safely inside his room, he smacks himself down on the bed and lets out a sigh. It feels good to properly lay down after all that sitting. Alone and staring up at the ceiling, he still can only think of Snafu. If he was flirting, was Eugene doing it back without realizing it? I mean, he was immediately attracted to him, so maybe subconsciously… He wonders if it’s wise to entertain this flirtation. It might be a good distraction from all the pressure of his dissertation. It’s just flirting, it’s noncommittal. He wonders if he made the whole thing up in his head. He tries to clear his thoughts but instead starts imagining his mother meeting Snafu. He snickers at the thought. They would hate each other.

He feels himself getting drowsy again and bolts upright. He’s supposed to meet Burgie at the restaurant in only about an hour, he can’t let himself drift off. He checks his breath and his suspicions from earlier are confirmed. He definitely needs to brush his teeth before he leaves. He hopes Snafu didn’t notice. He checks himself in the mirror to make sure his clothes don’t look too wrinkled. He decides to change from a t-shirt into a button-down to look a little more proper before freshening up in the bathroom. He’s ready a little too early, so he kills the rest of his time by rummaging through his suitcase and reorganizing it.

He confirms the address of the restaurant with Burgie, picking out a route on the GPS, and stands, ready to leave. Of course, as soon as opens the door, Eugene’s anxiety decides that he must pee before getting in the car. Luckily, he decided to leave early, so it doesn’t make much of a difference. He’s on his way in a minute or two, stepping out of the hotel into the humid, late spring air. The sun isn’t setting yet, but it’s circling its way around the horizon, getting ready to descend. 

The restaurant is only thirteen minutes from the Comfort Inn Eugene is staying in, and he arrives 10 minutes before the agreed time. He looks around the parking lot, searching for Burgie’s car, but he can’t remember what it looks like for the life of him. Does Burgie have a truck? That would seem in character. But maybe it was a hatchback? Or a sedan? Maybe he should go inside and say Burgie’s name as the reservation. But he can’t get there first and be alone at the table, that’s weird. Two figures crossing the threshold interrupt his thoughts: a sturdy frame he immediately recognizes as Burgie and a curly head that can only be Snafu. They seem to be laughing about something, and Eugene’s chest feels light. He’s so happy to see Burgie after so long, he’d missed him so much. And Snafu’s face… If he’d smiled when talking about Burgie, he was beaming now. The look on his face is infectious, and Eugene finds himself smiling despite being alone in his car.

Eugene waits a few minutes for the pair to get settled inside before getting out of his car and following behind. The restaurant is a typical steakhouse with a bar and TVs playing various sports on every wall. He searches the tables until he finds Burgie, who makes eye contact and starts waving. He tells the hostess that his friends are waiting before walking toward them, trying to maintain a normal pace despite his excitement. Burgie stands, grinning, and gives him a warm hug, patting Eugene’s back firmly a few times.

“I missed you!” Burgie coos into his ear. 

“I missed you too,” Eugene says as they part, face glowing. 

Burgie turns and holds out an arm toward the booth.  “You’ve already met Snafu.”

Snafu gives a mocking wave and smirks. “Oh, yeah. We know each other very well now.”

Eugene blushes. What’s with this guy? Why’s he making it sound weird? All they did was talk! Burgie gives Eugene a look as they sit down and he has to stop himself from explaining that nothing happened, it wasn’t like that. 

“So, uh, who else is coming?” he says instead, clearing his throat.

“Just a few more guys, friends of mine from work,” Burgie replies. “They should be here soon. Anyway, I didn’t get to properly talk to you on the phone last week, how have you been?”

“Well, nothing much. Just my dissertation,” he shrugs. It seems evasive, but it’s the truth. Eugene’s life is boring, all he does is research these days.

“Nothing new?”

“Honestly, no.” He gives an empty chuckle before continuing, “It’s exhausting. It’s like I’m working on something impossible to finish. I’ve been really burnt out lately…”

Burgie reaches across the table and gives his arm a quick pat. “I know you’ll succeed,” he says. “Just remember that you love botany. Return to that passion, the reason you wanted to do this in the first place, then you’ll have the strength to persevere.”

Eugene smiles. “You sound just like my dad, he said something similar.”

“Well, he’s a doctor, he must be right,” says Burgie with a laugh.

There’s a lull in the conversation and Eugene becomes aware of those eyes boring into him yet again. He’d almost forgotten Snafu was there, which is odd. In Eugene’s experience, he’s not usually such a silent person. Eugene glances at him. He’s just sitting there, curled up in his corner of the booth, observing with those wide, blue eyes. His expression is blank, but he slowly grins as they make eye contact. Eugene looks away, back down at the table, but he knows Snafu hasn’t and is continuing to stare. 

Burgie’s friends arrive within the next fifteen minutes, and they have to get a waiter to push another table up to the booth. There are three of them, all working at the same contracting company as Burgie. They’re loud and rowdy, watching and reacting to the sports on the TVs. Eugene only meets each of them briefly to shake hands, but he can immediately tell that his nature doesn’t mesh well with theirs. The three steal away Burgie’s attention throughout their meal, leaving Snafu and Eugene alone together on their end of the booth. 

“You don’t like them,” Snafu states as he eats his steak. 

“It’s not really that I just… I don’t know how to talk to them,” Eugene says between bites. “They’re not my type of people.”

“D’you know how to talk to me?” Snafu says, not looking at Eugene but instead focusing on his steak. He’s attempting to hold the entire thing up with his fork and rip the meat off with his teeth instead of cutting it.

Eugene watches him play with his food with slight disgust but ignores it. “No, I don’t. You’re weird.”

Snafu snorts at this. “Am I not your ‘type of people’ then?”

Eugene’s face splits into a playful grin. “Hm, I don’t know. Maybe if you stopped playing music in the car.”

They both laugh but are interrupted by louder laughter next to them. Burgie and his work friends have all ordered shots. They offer some to Eugene and Snafu, but both decline.

“Designated driver?” Eugene asks.

“Somethin’ like that,” Snafu replies vaguely, avoiding eye contact. He’s abandoned his plate by now and is leaning over the table with his chin in his palm. 

Eugene can tell that he’s approaching a sore spot, so he changes the subject. “So,” he starts. “Did you get all settled at Burgie’s apartment?”

“Yeah, it’s like my home away from home or whatever.”

Eugene nods, unsure of what to say next. He doesn’t know why Snafu does this, letting the conversation die. It’s like he wants to put Eugene on the spot. 

“I’m goin’ out for a smoke,” Snafu says, interrupting Eugene’s thoughts. He stands slowly, then asks, “Wanna come?”

“Sure,” Eugene says, looking up at him. In the dim light of the restaurant, his features are even more harsh and pronounced.

They maneuver their way out of the booth, trying not to bump into Burgie and his friends at the adjoined table. The others don’t even notice they’re leaving, too invested in a drinking game. Outside, the sun has fully set. None of the stars are visible in the sky, and there’s no grass for fireflies to blink in. Eugene doesn’t like heavily urbanized areas like this, where nothing lives but people. He needs the plants and the birds and the stars to be happy. 

Snafu reaches into his pocket, retrieving a box of cigarettes and a lighter. He offers them to Eugene, who again refuses, before lighting one up and taking a long drag. His eyes close for a moment, seemingly in some sort of bliss, as he holds in the smoke, before exhaling away from Eugene. The odor hits Eugene’s nostrils and he has to keep himself from making a face. He distracts himself by watching Snafu take another drag, sucking on the cigarette, cheeks hallowing slightly. At least he looks pretty, even if it smells.

At this moment, Eugene feels oddly close and familiar with Snafu. Maybe it’s their proximity throughout the day, or how attractive Snafu is, or the smoke messing with Eugene’s thoughts, or maybe just the moonlight. He thinks about his antics in the car and how they seem almost charming in retrospect, despite being annoying at the time. Maybe they were charming then too, but Eugene was too obsessed with feeling awkward to realize.

“I have a heart condition,” Eugene says out of the blue.

“Huh?” Snafu says, eyebrows raised. In a few seconds, a look of understanding washes over him, and he drops his cigarette, stomping it out. “Why didn’t you tell me before? I don’t wanna kill you or somethin’.”

“No, no!” Eugene’s cheeks are flushed red in embarrassment. What is he doing? “I meant, that’s why I’m not drinking. Not just because I have to drive. I don’t drink. Sorry, I don’t really know why I’m telling you this.”

Snafu laughs again with that earnest smile, and Eugene almost doesn’t mind embarrassing himself if he gets to see that face. “What the hell are you talkin’ about, boo?”

Eugene’s chest warms at the pet name. He normally hates when people call him things like that, but somehow Snafu is an exception. “Sorry, I guess I was just thinking about it because of earlier.”

“You’re funny, Eugene,” Snafu says, looking serene in the moonlight.

They’ve inched closer toward each other throughout their conversation, shoulders almost touching as they stand side by side. Eugene, slightly taller than him, can look down at his face from this angle, and he looks perfect. Suddenly, Eugene knows that if he doesn’t reach out to Snafu now, he’ll regret it later. He can’t let his anxiety or apprehension get in the way of his own happiness. He bumps his hand against Snafu, knuckles grazing, who turns to look at him. Their faces are only two shoulder widths apart, and Eugene can see every eyelash, every freckle on his face. He takes Snafu’s hand fully, entwining their fingers.

Snafu smirks and turns so they face each other.

“Why do you keep smirking at me?” Eugene whispers. “All day, that smirk.”

“For an almost doctor, you’re so stupid,” Snafu says with a roll of his eyes.

Eugene is about to respond but is interrupted by Snafu cupping his neck with his free hand and kissing him. His eyes flutter shut, hand drifting to Snafu’s jaw. The kiss is sweet and warm, and when they part they leave their faces close for a second, just breathing in each other’s air, before returning to their shoulder-to-shoulder position. 

“I’ve been flirtin’ with you all day,” Snafu says, and now the smirk in his voice doesn’t seem so evil. 

“I wasn’t sure. I thought maybe you were just being an asshole.”

“To me, that’s flirtin’.”

Eugene snorts. 

They stay out there for a few more minutes, just chatting and basking in the moonlight and each other’s presence. The barrier Eugene had set up, that fear of awkwardness, had melted away. He’s not sure where this thing with Snafu is going, or if it will go anywhere, he just knows that right now, it feels good, and that’s what matters. He spends too much time worrying about his past with his parents and his future with his dissertation; the two press against each other until the present is all but gone, a sliver of its former self. It’s time to finally live. They kiss again before reentering the restaurant, this time more lingering, parting with a smile. When they sit down again it’s like they share a secret, something only for them to know, and they can’t help but knowingly grin at each other from across the table.

By 10:30, Burgie and his work friends are all at varying levels of intoxication. Burgie is the least drunk, mostly just buzzed, to avoid a hangover on his wedding day. The three others are properly drunk and talking about continuing at a bar down the road. Eugene frowns at them, finding it difficult to hide his disdain. Aren’t they going to the wedding tomorrow? He makes eye contact with Snafu who looks as disgusted as he is. 

They say their goodbyes to the three, which for Eugene is just a curt nod of the head. Burgie pays the bill, which Eugene protests but Burgie insists the host should pay. Snafu keeps entirely out of the conversation, but looks off to the side guiltily when Eugene glances at him. He’s able to convince Burgie to let him leave the tip, placing a fifty-dollar bill down on the table. The poor waitress had a lot to deal with, a huge order and three annoying, rowdy drunks. They make their way out to the parking lot, Snafu now walking with Burgie, and Eugene trailing behind.

“It was so good just to hang out,” Burgie says to him, pulling him into another hug. “Sorry I wasn’t able to talk much, those three can be overwhelming.”

“It’s okay, we’ll talk tomorrow.” Eugene gives him a tight squeeze before letting go. “I can’t wait to meet Florence.” 

“Speaking of which, I should go call her and warn her I’m coming home,” says Burgie, smiling softly. “I’m sleeping in the living room with Snafu tonight. Don’t want any bad luck.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Eugene pats Burgie’s arm, nodding him off. “Don’t keep Florence waiting.”

Burgie walks off, phone in hand, leaving Snafu and Eugene alone again. Their previous goodbye had been uncomfortable at best, but all of that was gone now. 

“Guess you’ll see me tomorrow too, huh?” Snafu drawls, each word glazing over Eugene like honey, hand reaching out to palm Eugene’s shoulder. 

“Guess so,” he replies, mirroring Snafu’s movement before pulling him into a hug. “I’m glad I decided to pick you up today. Even if you were a little insane at first.” He brings a hand up to Snafu's hair, petting it softly and running his fingers through the curls.

“Sorry about that,” Snafu chuckles, leaning into the touch slightly.

They part and say their goodbyes, Eugene turning and walking toward his car, this time Snafu watching his back disappear. Once alone in his hotel room, Eugene can hardly believe himself. He doesn’t regret anything, but normally in social situations, he feels overwhelmed, especially by people like Snafu who are hard to read. He finds it difficult to act in such situations, to do anything. Today he acted, and he was happy with the result. He goes to sleep thinking of Snafu and what the next day may bring. He won’t need to lie about his mother suddenly becoming ill now; he’ll gladly drive another eight hours with Snafu being annoying in the passenger seat as long as it means they get to kiss again. 

When the morning comes, Eugene is buzzing with excitement. He feels slightly ashamed that this is mostly because of Snafu and not his friend’s wedding, but he can’t help it. He arrives early, sitting alone in one of the church pews behind those reserved for family and the procession. Only a few others are here so early, and he sits in contemplation, the excitement from earlier suddenly washed away. Churches will always remind him of his mother. Maybe he should feel bad for his outbursts two days before, but he can’t force himself to. She chooses to never understand. She wants him on that altar with a woman one day, saying his own vows. She’ll never get that. He’s filled with a melancholic feeling as he stares at the cross.

He sits there, unaware, for an hour as the church fills around him. His wallowing is interrupted by the sound of the pianist playing a precursory song. Within a few minutes, the procession starts. First Florence’s mother, then Burgie, who looks nervous. He takes his place at the altar, and Eugene tries to find his eyes, to give him a consolidating look, but Burgie’s gaze is fixed on the aisle. Next, the bridesmaids and groomsmen, Burgie’s three brothers, walking arm in arm, with the maid of honor and… Snafu at the end. For some reason, Eugene didn’t expect him to be the best man and almost feels offended that he wasn’t offered a spot as at least a groomsman. This is all quickly forgotten when he gets a proper look at Snafu in a suit. His hair is neat and gelled back, a grin on his face. He meets Eugene’s eyes with a smirk as he walks by. Florence is next in the procession, and she looks beautiful. Eugene has seen pictures of her before, but they couldn’t do her justice. She is radiant in her gown, and he sees Burgie’s face light up as soon as she begins her walk down the aisle.

The ceremony proceeds without a hitch, Burgie picking up Florence and spinning her around once the pastor tells him to kiss the bride. Everyone makes their way to the reception hall, with what would normally be a ten-minute drive turning into a twenty-five-minute drive with all the traffic. Eugene puts his anxiety-inducing gift down on the table designated for presents then finds himself a table in the corner, waiting for the wedding procession to be introduced and the party to start. 

When they arrive, the dancing begins, and the food is set out. Eugene grabs himself a plate and is moving down the buffet when someone touches his shoulder, He nearly jumps, but turns and sees Burgie, giving him a half-hug with his free hand.

“Congratulations, Burgie,” he says. “I wish you all the happiness in the world.”

Burgie beams at him, then steps to the side, revealing Florence, who leans in to give Eugene a half-hug as well.

“It’s so good to finally meet you!” she squeals. “Burgie just loves you! Thank you so much for coming!”

“Nice to meet you, too!” Eugene says. “Congratulations, Florence!”

“I have to go greet the others, but I’ll talk to you later, Eugene. Bye!” She turns and walks off, a bounce in her step.

“She's lovely. I’m so happy for you, Burgie.” Eugene actually feels like he might cry. In a strange way, he feels like he’s saying goodbye to Burgie today. With him married and Eugene getting his Ph.D., they’ll have even less time to see each other. But Burgie means the world to him, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep their bond from fading.

“So, how did you feel about Snafu?”

“Huh?” If there was anything Eugene was expecting Burgie to say, it wasn’t that.

Burgie looks at him knowingly. “I just thought you might like to know that he’s playing for your team, that’s all.”

Eugene sputters, “Did you plan this? Is that why you called me in particular?”

“I just thought you two might click,” laughs Burgie. “And by your reaction, I’m guessing you did?”

“Well… maybe a little,” says Eugene, unable to stop his cheeks from dusting themselves pink.

“He’s right over there watching us, by the way. I think he’s waiting for you,” Burgie says, motioning his head behind him to where Snafu is standing in a corner. “I won’t hold you up.” He begins walking away but then turns back. “Oh yeah, don’t worry, I sneaked a look at your gift and I love it. I know you’ve probably been letting that torture you the whole time.”

Eugene snorts and Burgie gives him a clap on the back before going to join his wife. With him gone, Eugene can clearly see Snafu across the room. He shakes his head, smiling as walks over.

Snafu – no, Merriell greets him with the usual grin. “Wanna dance?”

fin.

p.s. i also made this playlist of songs i think snafu would listen to in the car :)

[short-black-diamond]

ANGST PURE FLAVORED ANGST! tis is what i crave! tis is what i want! tis is what i need! tis is what i ask!

Wednesday x Reader

Absolute neglect after The Hyde situation, Wednesday is stuck to Enid like a bear to honey, ignoring your attempts to hang out with her, ignoring ur dates, ignoring you. You finally had enough and its time to let go of your hopes and dreams with her, your future with her. You know you deserve better, you deserved better than to be just a second. You willingly cut that line that connects the two of you together and go on with your life, to be finally happy.

You control the plot author, the dialogues , the way you want them to break up, the levels of angst, i leave it up to you to create a heart breaking, heart stomping, teae inducing of a masterpiece! Remember to always have fun writing or the flavor of the story will fall flat. Goodluck!

Okayyyy, alright! Thank you for the request!

I did it slightly different from your request, with Wednesday being out of character, and, like with a happy ending. and I'm not that good with angst but I'll try! so uh, yeah, eheh...

Wednesday x reader angst everyone!!!

Warnings: Angst obvi, very ooc and toxic Wednesday

Btw everyone can request something, don't be shyyyy

---

"Why can't you believe me?", your voice echoed in the big corridor, fast steps following even faster ones. Nobody dared to come out of their dorms, scared to get a taste of your or Wednesday's anger.

It should actually be the other way round; with Wednesday chasing you and not you chasing her. But you needed to know.

"How come that everytime you tell me something, it happens in a short amount of time. How come that you always know what happens next?", the girl said while her back was to you and she was skidding to a stop when she sharply turned around and faced you.

She was the right one to speak when she was the one with the visions...but you didn't say that outloud, at first being grateful that she even turned around in the first place.

Even though you would've liked for her to listen to you, understand your reasons, why you knew all this, you knew that it still wouldn't end well. Because Wednesday never understood you. She may be the weird girl everybody knows, but to her, you were the weird one.

As you were looking at her perfectly symmetrical face and dared to admire her beauty, you also frowned. "You are my girlfriend, Wednesday. I care about you. I have my reasons, Wednesday. You have yours too. You are not comfortable talking about what happens in your visions, I am not comfortable talking about why I know all this. Let's not overstep each others boundaries here-"

"You overstepped the boundaries when you followed me to the cafe and pulled me away from Tyler-" "I had a good reason to do that! You cheated on me! You were so caught up in kissing him, not noticing how his eyes were fucking open the entire time! He was using you, Wednesday! And we two, we were fucking together!", you screamed now, not noticing that your argument had gotten louder.

Wednesday didn't tell you that she had a vision mid-kiss.

As you were panting, and so was she, she took in your state. Your hair was a mess, your eyes looked like they have been producing a concerning amount of tears, your face was pretty pale and your choise of clothes wasn't the best either. Sure, she felt really bad for cheating on you, but maybe she liked 'normal' people more than she'd like to admit. She also wished that she could apologize, but the damage was done and her throat had a big stone in it. It was weird, really, how she couldn't say anything. Not even a simple sorry. And she somehow felt her eyes burn. And she didn't like the feeling that was bubbling up inside her.

Finally realizing that this argument lead to nowhere with the girl in front of you, tears started forming in your eyes. You knew that you shouldn't apologize, but you always were sorry for doing something wrong, even when you never did anything wrong. And even though you were the one who got cheated on, you still felt like apologizing. "I'm sorry, Wednesday. I really care about you, a-and I was scared that something bad would happen-"

"Leave me alone. It's over between us.", was all the girl said before turning around again and rounding the corner to her dorm. you were left standing there, dumbfounded. She didn't aknowledge that you literally risked your fine ass to save her, leaving her with minor wounds and you with major ones. She fucking cheated on you. She ignored you for the rest of the day and you couldn't help but get depressed, but also angry and displeased.

The next time you saw her, she was literally touching shoulders with Enid, making the rainbow girl gleam in delight. W-were they together now? you felt like puking. Enid and Wednesday didn't look good together, and other people expressed their disagreement by looking at the weird pair with a 'wtf' expression. At least you weren't the only one who didn't like what you saw.

...

It has been a few days after your break up with her. Being away from Wednesday lead you to think about yourself while you meditated. you had a flower-like power, with plants errupting from any surface you touched with your bare hands, feet, or naked body. That's why you always covered as much of your body as possible, and even though it didn't work on humans/monsters, it did work on any other surface and you had to wear gloves and socks all the time. But hey, at least you'd always be warm!

you had your own dorm because apparently, nearly everyone had an allergy against at least one plant in your room. closing the door, you stripped off your clothes and lay down onto the moos and grass ground, loving your ecosystem. The offsprings engulfed your limbs with open...roots? Anyway, as you closed your eyes, your mind wandered to her.

Wednesday, with her hair open, swaying beautifully in the wind.

Wednesday, who let you read her works.

Wednesday, who always bought you chocolate milk. (-Sorry I had to indulge myself there)

Wednesday, who helps you with the homework, patting your head with a satisfied smile on her face.

Wednesday, with a beautiful dress in your room.

Wednesday, who smiles at you before she is about to-

"NO!", you yelled, the flowers around you rotting. They all turned a darker, shadier shade from their original colour, and the roots and becoming thinner and thinner.

.....

....

...

..

.

...See, your feelings were connected to the living creatures of your little world. And when you felt bad, they feel bad. In other words, the flowers in your room mirrored your feelings and mood. Instantly, you apologized and calmed your breathing.

As you steadied your mind, the flowers blossomed again and you sighed. taking care of your feelings was a shit ton of work, especially when somebody- in this case something- else got hurt in the process. You stroked the green underneath you and murmured sweet nothings to your loves, smiling when they began to glow.

"I'm sorry, it's just- Wednesday...seems to like Enid even more than ...me. And here I thought I had a chance. I mean, we were together...", you chuckled dryly, laying yourself down once again.

Then, you thought about Wednesday, who'd never tell you where she went.

Wednesday, who never asked how you were, thinking that a simple pat on the shoulder or head would bring enough comfort.

Wednesday, who'd rather go out with Enid than you, because Enid was socially accepted and you...not so much.

Wednesday, who always pushed you away when you were about to hug her, or kiss her, or generally, just touch her.

Wednesday, who'd get angry when you brought earth and dirt into her side of the dorm she shared with the incomplete werewolf.

Wednesday, who once told you that your powers were useless, but your flowers were the exact reason you could find and save her.

Wednesday, who once yelled at you for taking Thing out for a walk, but Thing only wanted to spend time with you.

Wednesday, who you now seemed to realize, wasn't as hot and romantic as you thought.

Yes, the more you thought about it, the more you grew to hate that girl. But you somehow also thought more about Enid.

Actually, Enid was pretty nice. She was very polite to you, loved it when you brought in dirt, and enjoyed it when you two went out to dig in dirt and bury some bones. It was her tendency as a dog hybrid to do that and your interest to know how long it would take the earth to absorb the contents of the bone, and you two actually became close friends.

the flowers were pulsating, pulling you out of your nap and when you opened your eyes, you found a blushing Enid next to you.

"H-hey-"

"AAAAH!- WHAT THE FUCK-GET OUTTA HERE I'M NAKEDDDDD!!!!"

Yeah, that...was not so nice. Anyway, after you've quickly changed into some comfortable clothes (jeans and a tight shirt to show your abs/tits wink wonk), you opened the door, surprised that she took off her shoes and socks. you once told her that you didn't like it when people stepped on your ground with their dirty shoes, so she took your plea to heart. As she stepped in, she relished the fact that she didn't develop any allergies. and your room really was a sight. also, her animal instincts were in pure bliss.

your room smelt nice, was nice, calm and beautiful. She noticed a few butterflies here and there, worms on the ground, bees collecting nectar and much more. "Your room is so beautiful...", she whispered, scared that if she talked any louder, it would hurt the creatures in your room. you giggled and aknowledged the fact that she was talking quietly. you liked that about her. she respected you and what you loved or did.

"Thanks. Um, may I know why exactly you're here?", you asked, raising a hand for Enid to sit on a moos covered rock which errupted from the grass. It was more comfortable than any chair she's sat on. "Well, I thought that maybe...you'd like to go out sometime?", she asked, a hopefull glimmer in her eyes.

You gave her a sad smile, but the flowers all grew thorns, and Enid noticed. "Aren't you together with Wednesday now?", you asked. Was there some sort of disrespect from you at the goth girl she smelled?

Your question surprised the blonde and she waved her hand in a dismissing manner, frowning at you, her lips turned upwards. "No, we are not. I only like her as a friend. but...there is somebody else I like.", she said, standing up, coming closer to you and softly taking your hand in hers.

Oh.

"U-uhm, Enid-", you stuttered, blushing at the body contact, probably because of Wednesday. yeah, you were pretty touch starved.

"Can I hold your hand for a little longer?", she whispered, looking at you through her blonde eyelashes. Was she doing the puppy-eye? Well, it did the fucking trick.

You looked to the side while nodding and she engulfed it in both her hands. She traced soft patterns on your skin, making you shiver. Her hands were so soft and delicate and you asked youself what she could like about you.

Wednesday never told you sweet words or touched you like a lover like Enid did.

Wednesday never gave you the feeling of being extraordinary throughout the entire time you were with her like you were with Enid in these few minutes.

Wednesday seemed to have accepted your proposal out of pity.

Enid suddenly let go of your hand. "So...what do you say?", she asks, still in your comfort zone. "Sure...!", you answered, craving her touch again. However, something else cought your attention.

"But...I thought-" "No more thinking! You tend to overthink, sweetie!"

your cheeks went warm at the blonde girl's words and she realized what she said too. "Oh, I-I'm sorry, I hope it was not too much?" You only shook your head, smiling giddily at the petname you got, looking to the ground shyly.

"I...quite liked that.", you murmured, feeling bold and gently taking her hands in yours. "Would you...like to move into my dorm? You seem to be the only one to not have an allergy against my flowers."

Jeez, you felt like you were proposing to her, but at this age and these feelings, it might just be one.

As she felt your warm hands hold hers and your even warmer gaze on her face, she had a big smile etched on her face. "Yes!"

...

"Noooo, why?", Enid whined when she saw you scoop up ice with one of your french fries. You pouted at her.

"You eat pizza with pinapple pieces. let me do how I please.", you grumbled, enjoying the sweet and salty flavour.

You two were currently eating at Mcdonald's, a date, where you payed for the food and you were talking about the most random topics. It turned out that you two had a lot more in common than you thought.

"I can't believe that you still watch barbie and my little pony when you've had such a personality.", Enid remarked, grabbing your attantion from sticking more fries into your ice cream.

You looked up at her with childish wonder before beaming at her. "I only had that shitty personality when I was with her. But no more of that. I want to be...myself, you know?"

"I couldn't believe it when you let Wednesday bully you like that.", Enid suddenly exclaimed. your jaw was slack and you gulped. "Wh-what do you mean..?", you answered, frowning at her with an uneasy smile.

"She told you that you were useless, sweetie. it was you who saved her, you know? without you, Wednesday might've been dead already. And your powers are actually pretty good for the environment. And if more people had such a pure heart like yours, then the world would be a much better place."

your face scrunched up, a telltale sign that you were about to cry soon. Good thing that Enid was already done with her food, so she quickly grabbed your ice cream, the fries and your hand and went out.

The fresh air did you good after you two sat down on another rock, and you took deep, shaky breaths. Enid tried out one of the french fries which were stuck in your ice cream - sometimes you really behaved like a child - and she grew to love it.

When you turned to her after having calmed down, you couldn't help but burst out in laughter. Enid only looked at you with a confused expression, not feeling the ice on top of her upper lip. "Growing a beard I see?", you asked, touching her cheeks softly.

"Let me kiss it off of you.", you whispered softly and Enid nodded eagerly, much to your delight. you gently licked away the ice before giving her a sweet kiss-

"Enid.", Wednesday said, startling both you and the girl in your arms.

She gave Enid a death glare and you too, to which you frowned. The young Addams girl took a step forward, with you going on front of Enid protectively. "Just what the hell so you think you're doing, Enid?"

"I kissed her." "I saw. And I told her to leave you alone." "And why would she do that?"

"Because she doesn't deserve some useless nobody like you."

"You know that if it weren't for my plants, you would've been dead."

Wednesday stared at you, and you glared. "Leave us alone Wendesday. You don't even know what you want or what's best for you.", you boldly exclaimed, taking Enid's hand and leading her away from the goth girl. "I hope you'll live through a tragedy of a life, Wednesday Addams."

"Rich coming from somebody who's kissing my best friend.", the latina boldly said, provoking you with a smirk, thinking that she'd have the upper hand.

But you were tired of her bullshit. "Even richer coming from somebody,", you started while walking towards her, your eyes glowing and a slight earthquake making itself known, "who was cheating on her partner- which she couldn't even look after properly- with a fucking Hyde in human disguise!"

You grabbed her shoulders and your face was covered in plants, but you looked terrifying. Wednesday looked scared for the first time in her life and you lived for that with a wicked grin. "Stay out of my life if you know what's best for you, Wednesday. You're a toxic, lying, untrustworthy, unreliable, whorish, slutty piece of shit and if that doesn't go through your stubborn, shitty head then I have no idea what to tell you more except to tell you to fuck out of my life again!", then you let go of her. Your face twisted back to normal, you gently took your girlfriends hand and led her away from your ex.

---

How was that? I hope it was not too boring. I wanted to bring in some funny parts and I hope you guys laughed-please act like you did.

I've read this story again and I Don't think that I can write angst that good likt other authors, but I hope it was okay..

[ajdrawshq]

my finger slipped and hit the fwickin send button weh

our prediction is that act ii ends when Frin faces and dies to the king of sadboy losers, and that act iii ends where sasasaap ends after beating him for the first time.

i personally wish i had thought to convince Goggles to play isat andplayedviddygames without playing the prologue, if only because knowing the rough shape of the next act and a half out a tiny hole in the tension balloon and only the promise of future mystery is keeping our head in the game

(seven acts? the king is clearly an anchor of some sorts so he isn’t unimportant but he clearly isn’t the endgame?? and then there’s loop who wasn’t even in the professionallogue…)

anyway, if you want to watch kayzero reactions (to isat, the start again vods isn’t my first time playing the prologue) and amateur voice acting (i love my rendition of the bathroom freakout it’s phenomenal) the vods are getting uploaded and i have a playlist I can link you.

this has been Kay’s Week 5 ISAT Check In~ presented to my friend aj~ here’s a question though—what would your craft type be? Rock Paper or Scissors? (will there eventually be enough information about all three of them to say definitively which one i would be? if not i’ll just have to make a character sheet as if i’m in the game.)

first of all: YESSSS im so excited to see u theorize n speculate on this stuff as u go :3c and those are verrry interesting predictions indeed.... who knows!! ALSO "THE KING OF SADBOY LOSERS"..... YEAH.....

i can definitely see what u mean on wanting to play isat before the prologue.. im not gonna say much else on that, so as to not add onto any potential spoilers u may or may not have gotten that way, but i will say that theres merit in playing it both with and without having played the prologue!! i played sasasap afterwards personally so i Was completely blind going in, but i love seeing the differences in gameplay, what everyones characterization and dynamics used to be like, among other things.. and of course comparing it with everything that was added in isat!! which is a Lot!! its fun to think about :3

as for the acts.. yknow what im not even gonna tell u if ur right or not abt the number. and the rest of that as well of course ksbxksj after all, the more mystery there is, the more fun youll have!! teehee~

I ABSOLUTELY WOULD LOVE TO SEE THAT PLAYLIST THO :D god i love the Epic Bathroom Breakdown scene in sasasap its so . ougghgh (affectionate)

anddddd my craft type huh.. i wanna say scissors!! but that might be biased bc most of my favs just happen to be the scissors types . maybe paper if thats the case.. AND tbh i cant say for sure?? i remember there being more than one scene or bit of dialogue that lists some traits but..... yea u may want to make that character sheet kxbskcbjs

OH AND ONE LAST THING. are u both open to receiving any kind of hints for a secret and super missable thing . whetherit be super vague or telling u how to see the thing. and if not would u like a piece of advice that tells u practically nothing but may help in the long run (both for this reason and just in general tbh)

[franciscrozierofficial]

>dont ask me how he sends this letter over but he gets it over somehow. maybe its just a text. whatever it is, it's anonymous and not publicly published. if written by hand, the words are very very very hastily written, as though in a hurry.

realizin you may have believed my silly little tags on my silly little post sir, SO im here to clear things uup w ya so ya dont fuck me over for it 😉 coz lord knows i dont wanna lose ur support rn at all

n i also wanted to reply to u about ur recently posted Letter and the Poll contained within it which i cannot repost to my online web log right now because i am... let's just say... pushing pieces on a board 😉

1st. know that your sobriety is one of the bravest things youve done for which i hold IMMENSE respect n it has allowed me to find in you a very very lovely captain and a most wonderful man. preciate it n i preciate your honesty sir n ur bravery n ur... willpower? its willpower. n not just that like. you do amazin things sir. jus inngeral. i think if youd been in charege in charge of this mission, we wouldn't have gotten stuck. godd fuck this sounds like im tryin to butter u up n stuff but i just fuck confound it forget this part of the letter!!!

long stroy short dont go back to the drink, yeah? stay w us, plz. lotta people love u, sir, me inclulded. dont let the past define you. <333333

as for the clearin up part of this letter, well those tags i wrote about ur drinkin where lies, btw, related to my aformentioned board and my aforemtnioned pieces. ur a big smart boy, trust me n believe i gort this mkay? nothin nefarious here at all sir (totally nefarious. it's totally nefarious, but it aint got nothin to do w u, i just gotta' pull some strings). it's all just. my pieces n my board n ... hah. well. n my war. 😘

ok 👍. Thank you for clearing that up, Hen.

Kissing face 😘 BW (By the Way) I am coming over to Erebus now. So if you see a dark figure on the horizon don’t shoot

[moonstruckme]

hi love! Ive been fawning over your drabbles for the past few hours (marauders girlie but ur honestly converting me into the other fandoms with ur writing).

I had a cute idea for a short poly!marauders, something involving maybe the reader and sirus being prone to getting sunburnt easily? (I hope this makes sense 😞) Where Remus and James tease the two of them but quiet down when they (reader/sirus) threaten not to put sunblock on for them (who would pass on that offer). Maybe a beach day?

Thank you lovely!

cw: reader is implied to have pale/light skin

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 745 words

“Hold your breath, lovie.” 

You pinch your eyes and mouth shut in anticipation, and still a small sound escapes you at the chilly spray hitting your back. 

“Fuck, that’s cold,” you hiss, and James chuckles as he sets the can of sunscreen down, rubbing it in with his hands. 

“You need it.” Remus’ tone is amused. He takes the sunscreen to give Sirius’ back the same treatment, ignoring your boyfriend’s shrill cursing. “You both do.”

“I don’t know, do they?” James asks, and you can hear the mischief in his voice as his fingers slip under the tie-string of your bikini top to get the sunscreen in there. “I think they may just refract the sunlight rather than soak it in. Look at them, they’re gleaming.” 

“Fuck off,” Sirius grumbles. 

“You may be right,” Remus says. A little smile plays on his lips as his hands move over Sirius’ shoulders. “I think if they walked about twenty meters off, I wouldn’t be able to tell either of them from the sand.” 

“Moony, be fair,” James chides lightly. “We’d be able to see ‘em. They’re definitely lighter than the sand.” 

“Alright.” You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “We get it, we’re pale. You’re hilarious.” 

James’ hand snakes down, giving your bum a playful squeeze as he leans around you for a kiss. You give in much too easily for Sirius, who groans in protest as you close your eyes and relax into James’ embrace. He breaks the kiss after a few seconds, taking the sun lotion in hand and beginning to apply it to your face with loving, pacifying touches. 

“Turn around, love,” Remus says. 

“Oh, so you get to ridicule me and then I’m supposed to be obedient?” asks Sirius haughtily. 

“Mhm.” 

“Well, I don’t think—” 

Remus picks the can of sunscreen back up, spraying it on the back of Sirius’ neck. He yelps, turning, and Remus pushes him down onto a folding chair. 

“There we are.” He crouches in front of his boyfriend, smearing sun lotion on his reddening face with the tolerant manner of a patient schoolteacher. “Oi, James, d’you think that if we got stranded at sea, one of these two might work as a beacon?” 

“Oh, absolutely.” You see the delighted scrunch of James’ nose when you glower, his thumb rubbing carefully under your eye. “We shouldn’t even bother with flares, they won’t be half as effective. Actually, if we take the sunscreen off them now, they’ll probably get red enough to attract the eye for miles.” 

Sirius huffs, but you give your boyfriends an appraising look. 

“So what I’m hearing,” you say slowly, “is that we need sunscreen and you don’t.”

Remus sends a small smile your way. “Basically, yes.” 

“S’not as essential for those of us with blood in our veins, lovie,” James agrees. 

“That’s too bad,” you tsk. “I guess you won’t be needing our help with it, then.” 

You look over at Sirius, and he grins, realizing what you’re about. 

“Yeah, seems like we’re off the hook, doesn’t it?” He smizes up at Remus, who frowns back at him. “They’re sort of missing out, the massage isn’t half bad.” 

James’ hands still on your face. “Is that a threat?” he asks amusedly. 

You shrug. “It’s an incentive.” 

“You realize we could just leave you like this,” Remus points out. “You could spend all day under the umbrella while James and I get to enjoy the sun.” 

“I’m perfectly capable of lotioning my own ass,” you say, and James’ eyes dip almost regretfully to the parts of you he hasn’t gotten to yet. “Or, I wouldn’t mind helping you finish up, Siri. Would that work for you?” 

Sirius grins sharply, ignoring where Remus sits in front of him and patting his lap twice. “Get over here, gorgeous.” 

You start that way, but James’ lotion-slicked hands catch at your waist, preventing you from getting far. You grin up at him, expectant. 

“Alright, point made.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Sirius wouldn’t do half as good a job with you as I am anyway, so I’ll finish you up, then you do me. Fair?” 

You glance at Sirius, who exchanges a look with Remus before nodding back at you. 

“Fair,” you say. “I meant what I said, though. I’ll be doing my ass myself.” 

James’ face falls, and Sirius cackles loud enough that Remus looks around you in embarrassment. 

“Shouldn’t’ve made fun of her, Jamesie. Our actions have consequences.” 

[sorryimananti-romantic]

so i just read ur guerilla fic and OMGGG WOWOWOWOWEEEEE IM SO BLOWN AWAYYYYY

ngl i went in like expecting this to be the typical cold hearted serial killer and naive goody good reader BUT HOLY SHIT i think i just fell in love w the way u give ur characters such depth and complexity like 🤯

god there's so much i want to put into words and i genuinely love how you flow everything together and the whole story is so cohesive and a delight to read and im just having a ball reading it all the way through (and maybe shed some tears when mc panicked after yunho "took the blame")

also read the bonus scenes and- if i may say this, i wish u kept those in 😭 the buildup and the aftermath was truly something i needed for them and... i don't need to talk abt the smut part bc OOOOHHH MY GODDD.... now listen i usually read smut and ngl i read guerilla bc it popped up in the tags and that scene was brain churning spine melting toe curling piece of edging i've ever read like he just fingered her and it's got me rolling in my bed this much lord-

also if i may ask bc im kinda slow but which atz was which doctors? 😭 ik it's dumb but i got mingi psychiatrist and yunho surgeon and the rest is definitely between the lines but i can't recall any them to save my life rn 😭✋

haha omgg 🥹🥹 thank you so much i read this like thrice im smiling like an idiot rn 😭❤️ yes one thing about me is i wont settle for a typical trope just like that i gotta put in some ✨twist✨ some spice if you must hehe thank you so much for the feedback love <3 haha yes yunho is such a sweetheart when he tried to take the blame like imagine having someone who would quite literally kill for you 😩🤌

bro only the deleted scene was actually deleted the bonus scenes i had in my head but never wrote and and the word count was already a whopping 28k tumblr starts glitching when it gets so high 😭 believe me i wanted to make this a solid 50k word 2 part fic but i was like who's gonna read that 😭 (might write a part 2 one day 👀 with all the spice and smut and how their relationship is hmmm im so tempted rn bc i should be starting a new wip but my headspace is still filled with serial killer yunho he's so 😩❤️)

LMAO IM GLAD THE LITTLE SMUT MADE YOU FEEL ALL HOT AND BOTHERED like this was just the beginning of their relationship and he's already exploring choking for pain vs choking for pleasure KFHSHDJSJA CAN YOU IMAGINE THE UNHINGED POSSIBILITIES??? (again im so so tempted to write a pt 2 😭)

haha omg atz as doctors okay so yeah i mentioned mingi as psychiatrist, yeosang as a nephrologist right? i wrote down all the roles for them and i wish i had gotten the opportunity to explore more of that! but wooyoung as a dentist, seonghwa for paediatrics, hongjoong eye specialist, san ent specialist and jongho gynaecologist hehehe

[mamamittens]

So I have two things I need to do this week. One being a comm for ceb (got the doc set up and everything, I swear!) and one being zine art (which is technically due May 1st I believe, oof!). And then I have a zine piece i need to write but the deadline for that is a ways off so I'm not concerned about it right now.

And my Oh Shit Sale is still active and will be closed down when my roomies get jobs, which should be within the next week or so.

but this isn't about that.

If you've been squatting about the sidelines for a bit, you may have noticed I've gotten back into pokemon. One character and fic that's build more for the laughs and shenanigans and the other with a Tragic Backstory (TM) that's more about the plot that I've been tooling for the past few weeks.

For Fin, the character with unfortunate history, I've actually written about 4K for. Still lowkey tooling some details but they're down the line honestly and it doesn't feel as dire when I acknowledge that this will be a slow update fic rather than my previous approach where I assume I'll be able to regularly update.

And anyway, I'm wondering if I should start posting it or wait until I have a lot more written for it and risk losing motivation to share it. I've got a few like that where I have a lot written but it's lived exclusively in my head and hard drive for so long it sort of doesn't register as interesting anymore for anyone. which is a little silly given no one but me has read it. Last I checked it was over 100 pages?!? But I think I was skipping around the plot with that too, I don't know. It really has been months since I've looked at it.

And anyway, I figured I'd see what the response was while I turned my actual attention to necessary projects in the short term.

TLDR: Should I start posting chapters of "Lay Down New Tracks", a Pokemon Black/White fanfic featuring Finley, a tragic retired champion of Kanto rediscovering her love of battle after losing her entire team almost a decade ago with the help of the Battle Subway and her support pokemon Platinum (a riolu).

I do have some details I want to iron out more, like integrating sign a bit since Finley is selectively mute.