#but seriously no fuck machine curse sometimes

[dragonkingz159]

Side tangent.

FUCK one sided Machine Curse.

Nearly the entirety of the Magikrab Gauntlet has the Machine Curse sticker somewhere. I have no idea who is wearing it but it permeates the entire train.

It breaks so many little fun combos with stickers you could do like you can’t use Automation, Roll Again, Random Starter, or Custom Starter on anything that is not a direct buff to yourself because otherwise you look like a complete dumbass when whatever you throw out there reflects back to you.

And that’d be fine. Honest. It would be. Because I know it has to be there to prevent the whole Khepri six Random Starter Headshot thing. And NORMALLY it means that the enemy can’t do the same to you because Machine Curse is an aura sticker which means that no one can use passive stickers to do things because it always reflects back regardless of who uses it.

Except Magikrab is a dick who applies Machine Curse to your side, and your side of the field, only.

So you have to sit there and watch the opponent use Roll Again or Automation and not get screwed over by the Machine Curse that you KNOW is THERE. It’s aggravating.

Hoooo hohoho it’s like salt in a wound. Because I’m sitting here wanting to use like little debuffs when I switch in or an automated ionized air thing on a AP Factory Lapacitor but no. Than I sit there an watch a Pryomeleon use Roll Again and hit me with a Damage Roll and I seethe.

Oh it just grinds the gears

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 2: In the Beginning

Word Count: 947

Rating: T

Pairing: None

CW: Language, weed

Summary: The guys try to come up with the name for their band.

Special thanks to my darling @offensiunculaee for all the C words, Gareth’s middle name, and inspiring this ❤️

@corrodedcoffinfest

“Alright,” Eddie says as he plops down on one of the ratty old couches in Gareth’s garage. “Last time we managed to figure out we want the word ‘coffin’ in our band. That only took fucking months.” He mumbled that last part to himself before sighing and continuing. “Now we just have to figure out the rest of it.”

In anticipation of this being another long evening, Eddie pulls a joint and a lighter out of his pocket. Gareth’s mom is in the house and will occasionally come into the garage to use the washer and dryer, but the guys have convinced her there’s a family of skunks who like to come and go under the house. That’s why there’s that smell sometimes, of course. 

“Iron Coffin?” Frank suggests.

“Too close to Iron Maiden,” Jeff says, taking the joint from Eddie so he can get a hit. 

“I am Iron Coffin!” Gareth does his best interpretation of the robotic voice that kicks off the song Iron Man. 

“Silver Coffin?” Jeff asks through a cough.

“Reminds me of Silver Surfer,” Gareth says. He twists himself around on the couch so his legs are hanging over the back and his head is upside down, inches from the floor.

“The who?” Frank asks.

“That name’s taken,” Jeff jokes.

“No, who’s the damn Silver Surfer?” Frank clarifies.

Gareth picks his head up enough to stare at Frank, two cushions over from him, as if he’s insulted by the very question. 

“Seriously? From the Fantastic Four?” Gareth says.

“Fucking nerd,” Frank says with a laugh.

“Says the guy who can recite every line the lion says in the Narnia books,” Jeff shoots back.

“His name is Aslan,” Frank defends, his cheeks turning pink. 

“My apologies.” Jeff gives a sarcastic bow—the best he can from his seated position, anyway. 

“Can we get back to naming the band, please?” Eddie asks before taking another hit of the joint.

Gareth stretches his head back to look at Eddie in his upside down position. He throws out his arm and points at Frank.

“He thinks comics are nerdier than Narnia,” Gareth whines. 

Eddie lets his eyes slip closed, the effects of the marijuana kicking in being the only thing keeping him from getting irritated.

“Fantastic Four has the fire dude, that wins right there,” he says.

“Ha!” Gareth gloats.

“What about celestial?” Jeff asks.

“Who’s that?” Gareth asks. He stretches his arm out towards Eddie who hands him the joint.

“No, for our band name. Celestial Coffin.”

Frank tilts his head from side to side, considering it. 

“Meh,” he decides.

“I do like it being two C words, though,” Eddie says. “Maybe a hard C sound, though? Alliteration.”

“Cursed Coffin,” Gareth says. 

This kicks off each band member thinking of any and all words that have the hard C sound.

“Creepy Coffin.”

“Cannibal Coffin.”

“Candy Coffin.”

“Coughin’ Coffin.”

“Commode Coffin.”

“Coffee Coffin.”

“Correlating Coffin.”

“Cunty Coffin.”

The moment the words leave Gareth’s lips, the door opens and his mother gasps. Her brow furrows as she steps into the garage with a laundry basket on her hip.

“Gareth Bartholomew Emerson, I better not have heard what I think I did,” she warns as she stalks over to the washing machine.

Frank snickers. “Bartholomew.”

Gareth punches Frank right in the shin to get him to shut up. 

Mrs. Emerson quickly disappears back into the house and the name game continues.

“Combusting Coffin.”

“Crowded Coffin.”

“Children’s Coffin.”

All the guys stare at Gareth after that one.

“Dude, that’s too fucking dark even for us,” Eddie says. 

“Yeah, doesn’t have the hard C either,” Gareth sighs.

“Cool Coffin.”

“Crunchy Coffin.”

“Corny Coffin.”

“Cantankerous Coffin.”

“Clitoral Coffin,” Frank suggests.

“What’s that mean?” Gareth asks. 

“This is why you don’t have a girlfriend,” Eddie says with a snort of laughter. 

“Girls have asked me out before!” Gareth insists, but other guys ignore him.

“Man, what the fuck are we going to call it?” Eddie asks, rubbing a hand over his tired face. 

Jeff leans forward and holds his head in his hands.

“What would look cool written on the drum set?” he muses. 

“What gives off a metal image when you hear it?” Eddie poses. 

“Now I’m picturing a metal coffin,” Frank says. 

“Is that a thing?” Gareth asks, passing the joint to his couch mate. 

“I don’t think so,” Eddie says. “The metal would get all cor—oh shit.”

“What?” Jeff asks, turning his head to look at his friend. 

A smile slowly grows on Eddie’s lips until it’s a full blown grin. There’s a spark in his eyes as well, Jeff notices. 

“Corroded,” Eddie says. He looks from band member to band member, gauging their reactions. “Corroded Coffin.”

“Holy hell,” Jeff says.

“Well, shit,” Frank says through a laugh.

Gareth rights his position on the ripped plaid couch and leans forward.

“That’s fucking good.” 

Eddie feels proud of himself for coming up with that, not that he’d say that out loud to the guys. But he feels the name rolls off the tongue and sounds pretty damn cool. 

“Corroded Coffin.” Gareth tries the name out. “Yeah. Yeah, I like it.”

“So, we’re agreed?” Jeff asks, looking between his three friends. “We are officially Corroded Coffin?”

“Hell yeah,” Frank answers. 

“Let’s do it,” Gareth adds. 

Jeff looks at Eddie, who still has the ghost of a smile on his face.

“Let me try it out,” Eddie says. He clears his throat and then says in his best Dungeon Master voice, “Madison Square Garden, please welcome…Corroded Coffin!”

The other three pretend to cheer and hoot as the audience. 

Eddie licks over his lips and nods his head. 

“Corroded Coffin it is.”

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

New tf2 AU time besties <3

Major gore warning for the story!! Seriously. It's kinda bad so keep reading with caution ⚠️

Cheavy realizes what he has done, and deems it pointless to keep having Medic around anyways. So to ensure the man dies he confiscates the medigun and leaves Medic to bleed to death. Which he does, very quickly and painfully.

Okay so basically, this is a barely thought out (as it often is) shitty little au where, early on during Medic's recruitment into the TFC team, Cheavy snaps after having to endure misdemeanor after misdemeanor from Medic, and rips his tongue out in a fit of rage for "talking too much".

Idrk what happens between Medic and the Devil, but what I got so far is that the Devil decides eternity in Hell isn't a suitable punishment for Medic. Instead he sends him out back to the mortal plane as a ghost, unable to interact with the people and the world in any way, cursed to watch his team move on without him and spend centuries isolated into a slow decent to further madness.

And then the TF2 comic events happens, and Medic finds out holy shit, he can interact with people, but only with his teammates and through possession. Turns out the time he spent dying and coming back to life in the Respawn machine with the others kinda fucked up the ghost logic and he found a loophole, yayy 🎉🎉🎉

He cannot speak as a ghost (because no tongue, duh) so he uses his teammates as his voice, and sometimes Archimedes, which is very horrifying to hear and see for everyone concerned <3

No blood version:

[aurora567]

Day 6 Discipline/punishment - Chizu/Ran (Tokyo Revengers)

Warning: this story will contain mature content such as but not limited to sex, cursing, a blow job.

Summary: Welcome to day six of kinktober I almost didn't think I would get this done in time as I spent all day driving across alberta to go see my sister and come home all in the same day and driving makes writing hard, so this is not proof read at all so please by mindful it may have more mistakes than normal. Enjoy some Chizu getting a little mouthy with Ran and him putting her in her place. Chizu is my oc from Magenta if you want to learn a little be more about her you can go to that one shot of mine.

Word count: 1909

Last Day

Chizu had always been a feisty one, a real firecracker among the Bonten gang. Her long bleached blonde hair was pulled back tightly into a high ponytail. It swayed as she strutted down the hallways of the gang's headquarters. With her head held high she exuded confidence. She walked around like she herself was an executive, even though she was nowhere near that strong or high up in the gang. But being assigned Sanzu’s babysitter, or more so his personal plaything made her feel untouchable. And that made her a bad combination of brave, confident, cocky and stupid. Chizu sometimes had a problem with her mouth thanks to that feeling of untouchability. After all, only an idiot would try to piss off Sanzu. And most of the lower thugs feared that touching her could bring the maniacs wrath down on them. And no one wanted to willingly die at Sanzu’s hands. 

On this particular night, her small black heels clicked against the linoleum floor as she made her way to the coffee machine that sat in the little kitchen in the main room where the executives often collected like they lived there. She felt on top of the world, untouchable and invincible. After pouring herself a cup of coffee she turned. Looking around the room, her eyes locked with those of Ran Haitani. The oldest of the Haitani brothers. And a man she likes to think she knew well by now. He was known for his ruthless nature and unwavering loyalty to his brother. Ran's slicked-back hair, dyed in alternating shades of light purple and black almost made her giggle. His hair was usually dyed odd colours and his suits always odd or gawdly in colour. It could at times make it so hard for her to take him seriously.  The only thing that kept her from laughing every time she saw him or his younger brother was his piercing gaze that could make even the bravest of men shudder.

"Well, well, well," Ran drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Look who's crawling around. Shouldn’t you be at Sanzu’s side?”

Chizu rolled her eyes, her feisty nature bubbling to the surface at Ran’s taunt. "Unlike some people, I actually work for my position here, Haitani. Not everyone can spend their days doing nothing but fucking their fist."

Ran's eyes narrowed, his amusement slowly turning to annoyance at her sassy remark. He took a step towards her, his tall frame towering over her smaller and petite figure. 

"You should be careful with that mouth of yours, little missy. It might get you into trouble one day." It was a warning. One she really should have taken seriously. 

"You're not my boss Haitani, so don't act like you can tell me what to do." Chizu retorted, taking a sip of her coffee. 

Ran's face twisted into a scowl, his patience wearing thin. He grabbed Chizu's wrist, causing the hot coffee to spill over her hand and to the floor. 

"I think you need to learn some respect, and I think I'm just the man to teach it to you." she watched those slanted purple eyes glaring down at her. Chizu tried to pull away, but Ran's grip was like a vice. She struggled, her eyes flashing with anger and fear.

"Let go of me, you bastard! I’m not one of your whores that you can bully!" She spat at him. But the attempt at anger was no different than that of a three pound kitten hissing and spitting at him. 

Instead Ran's grip tightened ensuring she could not wiggle away.  his other hand striked out like a viper as he grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her head back. 

"Oh? but you are, Chizu. And I'm going to enjoy every second of it." She watched the corner of his lips curl up as his eyes roamed over her, “after all it’s clear Sanzu lets you get away with too much. He should really teach his bitch how to behave.” 

He pushed her against the wall, his body pinning hers as he brought his face close to hers. Her heart was racing, her breath coming in short gasps. His hot breath glanced across her face, and despite her fear, a tingling sensation coursing through her body. Ran's lips curled into a smirk as he watched her reaction.

"That's it, let me see you get wet for me," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "You want this, don't you, you little slut?"

She tried to deny his words, and tried to shake her head at him. But her body was betraying her. She couldn't help but moan softly as Ran's hand slipped under her skirt, his fingers skillfully finding her wetness as they slid across the damp fabric of her panties. He skillfully found her clit even through her panties and started rubbing tight little circles over the bud.  She could not stop her body from squirming even if she was trying desperately to will her body to still.

"Please." she whimpered. She was not even sure what she was begging for.  Her resistance was melting away as pleasure consumed her quickly. 

Ran chuckled, his breath hot against her ear. He released her hair and cupped her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"I'm going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours first, and then I'll decide if you've learned your lesson." it was a promise more than it was a threat. And that had her legs attempting to press together as it did things to her pussy. 

Chizu's eyes widened, a mix of fear and anticipation flashing across her face as Ran was not one to bluff and he would follow through with his promises. Ran's hand moved to the back of her head, his fingers entwining in her hair as he guided her down to her knees. She could feel his hardness straining against his pants and despite herself, she licked her lips in anticipation.

"Open up," he commanded, his voice low and rough. "Show me how good you are at sucking cock."

Chizu parted her lips as her tongue darted out to tease the tip of his length. Ran hissed softly at the teasing action. she had barely parted her lips and started to take him into her mouth as his hips thrust forward driving him deep into her mouth as she gagged as he hit the back of her throat. She sucked and licked. Her hands roaming over his thighs as she took him deeper. 

"That's it, you filthy little whore," Ran growled, his hands gripping her hair tightly as he controlled the pace of her bobbing head, "Take it all, take every inch of me."

Chizu gagged slightly as he pushed deeper, her throat constricting around his girth. The grip on her hair allowed Ran's hips moved in a relentless rhythm, fucking her mouth with abandon as much as he wished and she could not pull away as he took over control of the blow job. She could taste his pre-cum, salty and musky on her tongue. 

"Mmm, you're loving this, aren't you?" Ran taunted, his eyes fixed on her. 

"Sucking my dick like a good little slut." he groaned. 

Chizu moaned around his length, her eyes watered and she was sure her makeup was running down her face as she felt tears escaping her eyes. Ran's control was slipping and he wanted to see her break. With a final, powerful thrust, he came. Filling her mouth with his hot, sticky cum. Chizu swallowed, her throat working hard to take every drop and not allow any to escape past her lips.

"Now, let's see if you can take it from behind, you bitch." Ran pulled out, his cock glistening with her saliva and his release.

Hands pulled her up before she could even protest. He spun her around, pushing her against the counter. A hand between her shoulder blades had her bent over and pressed down into the top of the cold counter as she was unable to escape his grip. With a lift of her skirt, her pantie clad ass was exposed . Chizu's heart was pounding, her pussy throbbing with need. She could hear the sound of the material of her panties being ripped off of her in Ran’s rush. She braced herself, her hands gripping the counter or anything she could reach. She could feel his hot tip against her folds and it brought a whimper from her lips. 

"Please" she whispered, her voice hoarse from the rough treatment. Once again she was begging though she knew this time what she was begging for. Her clit throbbed with the lack of stimulation and being so needy. Him using her face for his own pleasure had turned her on so much and she had been unable to touch herself. She was aching to be allowed to experience the ecstasy that would be Ran Haitani’s cock driving into her aching cunt. 

"You're going to take it like a good girl. Right Chizu? And you're going to love every second of it." Ran lined up his throbbing cock with her entrance, teasing her by rubbing the head up against her folds first and then her clit. He was taunting her with it and it only made her want to cry. 

“Yes! Yes I’ll be good,” She cried and whimpered about ready to start begging again. 

With one swift thrust, he buried himself inside her. Stretching and  filling her completely. Chizu gasped. Her body trembling as he began to pound into her, his balls slapping against her clit with each stroke. The counter edge dug into her hips as each rough thrust shoved her into the counter of the little kitchen. 

"Fuck, you feel so good. Your tight little pussy is milking my cock," Ran grunted, his hands gripping her hips tightly.

"Yes... oh yes... harder..." Chizu's head was tossed back as she moaned, her breath coming in short gasps. 

Ran obliged, his pace increasing as he slammed into her. His cock hitting all the right spots over and over. Chizu's moans filled the room, her body glistening with sweat as she neared her climax.

"I'm gonna cum... oh god, I'm cumming!" she cried out, her pussy clenching around his shaft.

Ran felt her orgasm ripple through her, her pussy pulsating around his cock. It was too much for him to bear and with a final, powerful thrust, he came. He was filling her with his hot cum as he climaxed. They stayed like that for a moment. With her bent over the counter and him standing behind her between her spread legs, both trying to catch their breath.

Ran withdrew slowly, his softening cock sliding out of her with a wet popping sound. Chizu turned to face him, her eyes heavy with desire.

"I... I think I've learned my lesson, Haitani-san," she said, her voice soft and breathless. Ran smirked, his hand reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. 

"Good. Now, remember, I'm always here to remind you of your place, Chizu. But for now, consider this your punishment... and your pleasure."

With that he  tucked himself back into his pants, straightened his suit and walked away. Just leaving Chizu leaning over the counter, her body still trembling from the intense encounter. She knew she had crossed a line, but the punishment had been more pleasurable than she could have ever imagined.

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Who Let Us Have A Group Chat?

Pairings: Blood Moon/DJ Music Man, Harvest Moon/Glamrock Bonnie, Eclipse/OC (well, not anymore)

Word Count: 1,121 Words

Summary: Sirius gets to name someone and Eclipse's tech-help roomba gains sentience.

Warnings: Caps, Death (mentioned only), Cursing, Self-Hatred (mentioned), Innuendo (mentioned only), Sex (mentioned only), Injury (mentioned), let me know if I should add anything else.

Notes: Sirius is good Eclipse. Charon is Good Eclipse’s Moon.

Other Notes: Guess you could say Sirius gets some...sirius brownie points this chapter? badum tss

Chapter 10: Another Backup And Solar Flare?

9:45am Who Took My Hat?

Sirius: You will never believe what I found in this house Monty brought me to to stay in for my seemingly extended vacation in your world.

Lunar: What did you find?

Sirius: Could my comfort tiny please wake up for this?

Eclipse: whay dod yoh fond?

Sirius: Okay. Crescent said we’re allowed to so I named him. But guess who found one of your backups?

Eclipse: WHICH ONE!?

Sirius: A blind one. His name is Brown Dwarf. He hadn’t charged since he activated and you said that they activated like a week and a half ago. So I put him on a charger last night and he’s talking to me now.

Lunar: Does Monty even know he’s there with you?

Sirius: I can defend myself. You saw what I did to BB’s face.

Lunar: True, point conceded.

Sirius: Anyways, Brownie seems pretty docile and nervous so I’m guessing he isn’t a threat as much as a surprise housemate.

Eclipse: I haven’t even had my coffee yet and you’re out here finding backups

Sirius: It’s a little hard not to notice a guy basically dead in your room kay? I noticed him last night and I figured I’d get him charged some before I went around asking him questions and naming him.

Lunar: Did you seriously read the chat history to find if you could name him?

Sirius: Read from the beginning to the newest so I’m caught up on my favorite soap opera.

Lunar: I hate you sometimes.

Sirius: Used to that.

Lunar: Get therapy!

Sirius: No, I don’t need it.

Lunar: Your oldest brother died when you came into this world, your other older brother died ripping the kill code out and is currently a glitchy backup, you are alone almost constantly and are running an entire daycare essentially by yourself.

Lunar: You need therapy!

Sirius: But they’ll make me talk about my issues. I’d rather take my issues out on machines.

Lunar: The exact reason you need therapy.

Eclipse: Oh fuck me.

Sirius: Dude, no. That’s your brother.

Lunar: Ex brother.

Eclipse: No, my fucking helper bot. Goddammit. I made his AI non-sentient and he still gained sentience.

Lunar: Oh, your other comfort big guy? That Solar something?

Eclipse: Yes, Solar Flare.

Sirius: How dare you make another me? /j

Sirius: /hj

Eclipse: No, he was supposed to be like a giant tech-help roomba and now he’s gained sentience.

Lunar: You win some, you lose some. Is he nice at least?

Eclipse: He’s nice, yeah. But he’s just newly sentient. I ran a check last night because he seemed to be getting emotional over Dad getting a body and now he’s gotten more sentient overnight.

Sirius: Well, add the poor bastard. Don’t leave him waiting without our lovely chat pinging his brain away.

Eclipse: Fine, fine.

Eclipse has added Solar Flare to Who Took My Hat?

Solar Flare: Eclipse, what is this?

Eclipse: The family group chat because you gained sentience.

Solar Flare: I am Solar Flare.

Sirius: We know, big guy. Your Mom told us all about you.

Eclipse: I am not his mother!

Sirius: Did you not make the body?

Eclipse: Well, yes, but I’m not his mother.

Sirius: Well you’re too much of a bottom to be his Daddy, so Mom it is.

Eclipse: I hate you.

Sirius: Yet you don’t deny it.

Lunar: I really wish I never knew this piece of information.

Sirius: Shut up, top.

Lunar: …

Sirius: No denial here, I must be right.

Lunar: Listen

Lunar: Shut up.

Blood Moon: Top and bottom? What?

Lunar: Oh, shut up pillow princess.

Kill Code: Let’s not discuss this? Okay?

Sirius: You’re just mad I called you Mom.

Kill Code: You would be correct.

Moon: It’s weird waking up at a different time than you.

Sun: it’ll take some time, but you’ll get used to it, Moony.

Sirius: Eclipse, I’m scared.

Eclipse: Why?

Sirius: Is this how my brothers would have interacted if I wasn’t a problem?

Lunar: You are not a problem!

Eclipse: He’s right. You aren’t a problem. You’re the strongest magic user I know right next to Moon. You protect your family, despite one being horrible to you and the other being comatose. You didn’t ask to be taken out and put in your own body, Charon made that choice for you. It was never your fault for just existing and it wasn’t your fault that the extraction process ended so badly.

Sirius: I know.

Sirius: Still not going to therapy.

Lunar: Fucking-

Sun: Why’s Lu having a fit at 10:15 in the morning?

Sun: Oh nevermind.

Blood Moon: I looked up what a pillow princess is and now Im terrified. I’m telling my therapist about this.

Lunar: Good, cry.

Blood Moon: So hurtful, baby brother.

Lunar: Yeah, I know.

Harvest Moon: Meanie.

Lunar: Yes I am. You should be used to this by now, power bottom.

8:50pm Who Took My Hat?

Sirius: Looks like my vacation is over, Charon fixed the traveler for me and it’s about to transport me back. Thank Monty for me, I can’t find him for my life to thank him myself for letting me stay in his house. And look after my new comfort tiny for me.

Eclipse: Already dealing with the other comfort tiny.

Sirius: Add him for God’s sake. I wanna be able to talk to my new comfort tiny between dimensions.

Eclipse: Yeah, yeah.

Eclipse has added Brown Dwarf to Who Took My Hat?

Eclipse: Here’s your second comfort tiny.

Brown Dwarf: WHY IS MY HEAD PINGING?

Sirius: Just a group chat, Brownie. I’m here and your family’s all here, just a group chat of all the people you know.

Eclipse: Include yourself in that, your family too.

Sirius: I literally have my own family, I’m literally back home.

Lunar: Doesn’t make you not a part of our family.

Kill Code: You just admitted you were kin to me.

Lunar: Shut up, I’m making a point!

Kill Code: Okay?

Sirius: That’s

Sirius: That’s actually pretty sweet, thank you guys.

Lunar: I will force feed you affection regardless of you accepting it or not.

Sirius: Kay, gotta go, Charon’s mad again and the daycare’s open. Gotta throw myself into the ball pit.

Eclipse: Please don’t actually throw yourself again?

Sirius: They like seeing me toss myself in the ball pit!

Eclipse: At least be careful?

Sirius: No. Perish.

Lunar: Perish is what you’ll be doing if you throw yourself ragdoll style in the ball pit again.

Sirius: Too late, already suffering consequences.

Eclipse: What did you do?

Sirius: Balls on my rays again.

Eclipse: That’s not too bad.

Sirius: Also broke some of my casing.

Lunar: Goddammit, Siri.

[kumamoto-division]

BROKEN HEART VIRUS (PART 1/2)

-Stella Maris basis, Undertaker's lab-

[Undertaker walks on his laboratory with a look of shock and confussion at his face as he see something with worry]

Undertaker *mumbling*:in all my eons of existence never saw something like this

[the death deity raise the eyes revealing he was looking at the figure of Yamamura Hanami but the doll not looked they best]

[the pink-haired was connected to several machines,showed heart beats but also some magical chains and handcuffs around their arms and wrists to evoid they do something stupid. On they chest over where should be they heart mark glowed in a sickly pale pink colour. The mark looked like a broken heart]

[the doors opens as a black-haired enters to the lab followed by Nellie Yukimura and his children]

Nellie:*hysterical* what's happened to Hanami?!

Eden:*put an arm on him* dad,calm down and let Neko chan speake

[Nekonari nodded as him and Undertaker look at all the family,Nellie was worried to the edge of a breakdown or a attack, Kururi seemed to be horrorified and Eden covered his mouth. Then Aoba approaches to Hanami enoughly to see the mark

The blue-haired turns to Undertaker and Nekonari with a sadness and resignated look]

Aoba:let me guess...the boogeyman finally broke them

*Silence*

Aoba:I'm gonna take that as a "yeah"

Nellie:I should feel suprise but...I can't

Aoba: to be honest dad Nellie,broken hearts are this family's canonical event in this point

Kururi:the thing that should concern us *everyone look at her* is for what happened after our hearts are broken

*another silence*

Aoba:*broken laugh*:we fall more and more into madness with every broken heart, like we were cursed by some love deity

Nekonari: I consulted Ryukyu about this,but like us he never saw something like this before,apparently their heart and lungs are failing but that isn't all

Kururi:is something related to Hana chan soul?

Undertaker:yes,I checked up Hanami's soul and memories,the seal on their memories made by Kunio is parcially remove,the shock and whatever that android did to them broke their heart and showed them some worse memories from their human life

[his children share a concern look,even if they didn't know how was Hanami's life as human,if Kunio sealed those memories without explain should be been very bad...and now with the worse of those memories...]

Nellie:*sighed* now this is really screwed

Eden:just hope this don't affect them very much but would make me a liar

Kururi:I think we should give them space and wait to Hanami chan wake up

[agreed with her the family leave the lab, but Aoba stayed and looked at Stella Maris leader]

Aoba:comatose people can hear all around them so...can I talk to Hanami?

Undertaker:do you think that would help them?

Aoba:*sad* beethwen my siblings I understand more the type of pain Hanami is suffering,at least let me try

[Undertaker didn't say nothing but let Aoba enters to Hanami's "room" and once the blue-haired do it Undertaker left the lab]

[Aoba sighed and sit in a chair by the bed side,he look at Hanami. The pink-haired who always looked so happy and cheerful before,now,in coma with a sickly pale skin,breating hard and that hideus broken heart mark glowing like a bad joke]

Aoba:* mumbles*...this seriously must be a joke from some fucking love god

[he looked at the sleeping doll and closing his eyes Aoba spoke]

Aoba: that guy surely broke you, didn't he? *Sighs* I told you that become his lover will be a bad idea but well, i guess i'm not one to talk considering my own bad habit of..."play with fire" *giggles* but i'm not regreting that now and possibily I never will...I suffered much by love,Kururi and Eden too but,I understand better your pain Hana,trust me

[Aoba combs Hanami's hair with his fingers,a tiny sad smile on his face]

Aoba: sometimes I think this family is cursed with never be able of feel true love and only suffering,but if it's true the...why not raise the broken heart flag and cause riot? Why we love so intense to fall deeper? I don't know but...

[Aoba touch his blue butterfly hairpin with a light smile]

Aoba:love someone is never a waste,even if it ends badly for us...we can take advantage of the pain and give all back the the worl, but that doesn't mean we can truly love

[the librarian giggles thinking about gis acts as "Bluefire". When he was 14-15 years old and burned those buildings after his father died, and how he started to do it often some years later. a revenge against the worl? Maybe...but Aoba conders them more as a way to evoid a darkest insanity at least for a moment...no one could accept and even less,love that side of him,and he accepted it]

Aoba:and I hope you can do the same Hanami

[sam-horror]

Hi! You think it'd be ok if you wrote some Vance Hopper x Male reader? Anything at all I'm so desperate for this.

Ok ok ok imma just do some head cannons, and thank u so much for requesting I’m very excited for this! :)

- I feel like this man would like not tell you what he wants but instead he’s going to give hints. He wants cuddles? Oh well then he’s going to tell you he’s cold.

- his parents are like assholes so after they fight or something he’s immediately going to you for comfort.

-hold this man! He literally needs to be held, wether it’s just an arm around him, or he’s full on laying on top of you. He loves it all.

-his hair!! Seriously so soft. If you do his hair like braiding or just brushing it then he’ll be on his knees!

-compliment him! He loves all compliments, he’ll try to compliment you back but it came out sounding rude. Don’t take it personally.

-get matching chokers or jackets, just do it man.

-he loves Dr Pepper so just sit on the roof of a building (that you guys may have broken into) and just drink Dr Pepper while cuddling. Just do it.

-he tries not to raise his voice at you, but it kinda just happens sometimes, if your sensitive he’ll just sit and hug you without saying a word.

-steals coins from you for the pinball machine. Doesn’t matter if he already has some, he needs more. So lock your change up.

-has trouble saying “I love you” back, he’ll either not answer and shrug it off, or he’ll just be like “cool motherfucker, so, do you have any change..? Or are you fucking poor?” (Even though he’s probably the one who made you poor-)

- his love language is like acts of service, he’ll carry things for you, he’ll open the door. All that stuff.

- your the only one who can calm this man down, he gets angry easily, so if he can’t punch then he cries. Hug this man.

- bro gets so focused on things, he be so focused on like tracing your hand, so then when u try to leave to use the bathroom he will pull you back into his arms and curse you out.

-he loves it when you feed him as he plays pinball, though he won’t admit it, he’ll just tell you to stop.

-bro would love it if you were too kiss his face like all over, but once again he’s stubborn.

- wants you for himself, he hates hanging out with friends, he’ll complain the whole time. When nobodies looking though he’ll kiss you and ask if you guys can go home, you say no.

- literally is horrible at math, he hates it too. So you guys have study dates, all the time. He loves them, he puts his hair up for them because he knows you like it.

-speaking of studying, I think he has reading glasses, just look at him we would look so cute in reading glasses.

-whenever he puts them on you just stare at him, he blushes and yells at you.

-give him kisses every time he gets a question right.

- bro wants you to patch him up after fights, like do it. Though he’ll yell at you for being too rough.

-play with him, he likes play fighting, he likes arcades. Bro just likes playing he’s like a hyper kid.

-complains a lot, but he doesn’t mean it most of the time.

-he likes to have screaming matches.

-at first he wouldn’t tell you when something’s a date, until later when he’s talking to someone and says you guys went out on a date.

You: “we went out on a date?”

Vance: “of course you dipshit”

-he likes too kiss you neck. Your neck is just so soft, can’t help it.

-bros so jealous, reassure him that he’s the only one for you.

-speaking of jealousy, bro only kisses you in public when he’s jealous, kisses you neck, puts his hands on your waist, then stares that the other person as he does so.

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

This is all I could come up with, hope you enjoy <3

Please keep requesting :)

[the-demi-jedi]

Luke reads The PROX Transmissions

So the main hero is apparently some kind of genius scientist, but also an absolute trainwreck. Off to a good start.

Stephen must look so absolutely ridiculous walking around with, like, a window shaved in his hair with a number tattooed on his skin. Man should have shaved both side of his head to just look less like a madman, but I also understand that at this point, he doesn't give many fucks about what people think.

This makes me think whether Stephen is based on Dustin or if Dustin is, like, a separate entity in the lore.

The amount of profanity is rather... excessive for a book that presents itself as a sophisticated sci-fi novel.

Seriously tho. There's something so funny about the fact that Starset has exactly 0 curse words in their entire discography while this book has at least one F-bomb per page on average.

"Aston Wise was a drunken asshole." Well, I'm not sure if you're in a right position to judge, Mr. "has sex with students" Browning.

Aston Wise is like Elon Musk if he was as cool as he thinks he is (but man he's indeed an asshole)

TBH I never really understood that "pathetic sopping wet dog man" meme, but I think it could apply very well to Stephen

I like how both Aston and Steven are supposed to be some kind of geniuses yet they seem to share a single braincell

This book can be pretty campy sometimes. And I definitely do NOT mean it in a negative way.

Evil CEO, aka. the most realistic villain

Motherfucker pays his people 37K per year and then [shocked Pikachu face] when they betray him

Regretfully, I have to inform you that not even this book is immune to the "breasted boobily" trope.

So Dana's daughter is Sarah? For a second, I thought it might be Sarah the Sarah aka. the BMI influencer from the "Icarus" video, but that's not consistent with the timeline.

It's incredibly in-character for Aston Wise to think like "What would be the best way to introduce people to a message from the future about the collapse of civilization? LET'S CREATE A KICKASS ROCK BAND AND THEY'RE GONNA PLAY IN SPACESUITS"

One of the book's most bonkers qualities is that it regularly and fluently oscillates between "pulpy, campy thriller feat. suited thugs with guns" and "the deepest, most profound, most thought-provoking shit you've ever read with your two eyes"

It's so funny how Dustin describes himself as kinda politically neutral and yet. The villain is a CEO of a megacorporation. The shady villainous organization is called "Collective of Industrialists" and they're like 0,1% away from being those comical cartoon capitalists with top hats and twirling mustaches. The Message, the very thing Starset is about, can be basically boiled down to "unchecked capitalism can and will cause utter, irreversible collapse of the society". While there are phrases used like "healthy capitalism" (which I'm not sure can exist), the book overall is more left than beef on pizza.

"Jay Bezie, the owner of a major internet retailer" LMAOOOO

"Partick Walman" the author just fucking GAVE UP on being subtle

I'm feeling weird about the concept of the Everything Machine being able to print, like, fully functioning humans. What makes it so that it doesn't just print a lifeless body? Then there's this whole debate about soul / some "spark of life" that can't be replicated. I know the Order are all scientists so they don't give a damn about it, but what if they didn't colonize PROX, but only filled it with some lifeless flesh drones?

Okay so overall, the book ended in a very satisfactory way, but also left enough cliffhangers and loose ends to make you HYPED for the sequel. Also... it raises some questions about the lore revealed in the Divisions/Horizons era. How did Aston become "The Architect"? Does it mean he's evil now, or just a persona non grata for the Order? And what about the takeover of the Starset Society by the Order of Teslonia (which signalled the release of "Horizons")? Does it mean they are one entity now? And what role does Stephen Browning play in all of this? So many questions.

Overall 10/10, a must-read for every serious and self-respecting Starset fan.

[aroace-poly-show]

follow up to my last oc rant: im gonna cover weiss and jex here since im brain rotting about them again sigh

also i tried my best with the sort of worldbuilding dont come for me if its not great this was for fun

jex’s illness specifically was inspired by this fictional disease thing i saw on pinterest and im so sad bc i didnt save it so i cant link it FUCK anyway specifically it was heavily inspired by the ink cough one. essentially jex’s body pretty much starts to slowly fail on them. throughout the life of one affected by this, they’ll slowly become weaker and weaker, getting sick much more easily (and those sicknesses tend to affect them much worse), having more and more violent coughing fits, being unable to heal very quickly/properly/more prone to infections, and blood from any injuries gets darker overtime, eventually becoming black. a lot of people often become eventually paralyzed. nearly everyone who has it has their expected lifespan cut incredibly short. those rare people that live longer spend their last days pretty much suffering. (no one really knows what causes it, theres rumors that it was a curse from an old dead god, placed upon the world in their final breath.. 👀 hehe)

stress tends to trigger jex’s cough but its not ink its like blackened blood. while they do tend to cough occasionally just in general, stressful situations will trigger a really really bad coughing fit, its worse depending how distressing it is to jex.

oh, and i forgot to mention!! weiss also has a sort of condition!! basically whenever they have an injury that draws blood, flowers will bloom from them. these flowers often help the wound to heal faster than if they weren’t there!! weiss was always fascinated by this, and (!!!possible tw: sh!!!) !!!sometimes would get hurt on purpose to draw blood and see the flowers bloom. its pretty cool having basically blood flowers that help you heal faster...until its like an internal injury then theyre an absolutely fucking pain in the ass to deal with.

so, weiss and jex were childhood best friends. they’ve been best friends foreverrr (and now romantic partners <3) since the one time jex fell out of a tree like a foot away from where weiss was messing with mechanical stuff. how fun!! jex had pretty much hopped out the window of their house after their caretaker left their room for like 2 seconds to grab their tea (which they absolutely fucking despise). before weiss can even say anything jex is just like “OOOOO WHATS THAT OMG” and just. fucking grabs the lil mechanical thing weiss was messing with.

weiss got pissed off at first bc “hey who are you why are you touching my stuff??” but then was overjoyed at the opportunity to infodump about her machines and stuff. boom now theyre besties. weiss used to help jex sneak out all the time. jex absolutely loved weiss for this, she was helping them live their childhood and god they’d do anything for her already.

weiss learned why jex had to stay inside all the time but it never really hit her until she actually witnessed one of their coughing fits. jex’s parents flipped the fuck out and weiss saw the amount of panic from them. jex had always played it off as it not being a big deal but seeing them struggle to just fucking breathe really shook weiss. the next time weiss saw them she made a promise that she’d find a way to help her, no matter what.

jex just kind of went along with that promise not thinking it was gonna be a serious thing, but weiss took that promise very seriously. she started focusing less on her interest in mechanical things and focused entirely on studying to help jex out. unfortunately…it resulted in them starting to drifting apart. jex was kept at home more especially since there wasn’t anyone to help them sneak out. eventually weiss hears about this group working towards learning more about their world, pretty much just scientists. she hears about one of their goals to help heal those illness that keep taking lives and she immediately fucking joins. goddamn shes excited!!! she can finally help her best friends!!! if only she read the fine print…sigh

so the group she joins, fucking sucks. very unethical experiments and projects but uh oh!! it seems theyre working with the shitty corrupt people that have wayyy too much power for anyone to do anything major about. so uh oh!!! no one’s coming to sue their asses!!! how sad for these (non)human lab rats :(

weiss had no idea about it at the beginning until shes offered a higher position in an important project, and she takes it bc she was told theyre working on the exact illness that jex has!! so of course shes gonna take that opportunity!! but unfortunately shes gonna be even busier, and jex wasnt happy about it. they already barely get to se weiss, and now they might not see them at all? theyre kind of hurt, and feel like shes treating them the same as their parents did. not letting them live the life they do have, just focusing on trying to extend it. it results in an argument between them, with weiss storming out. weiss didnt really get it, why would jex be upset??? shes trying to save them??? the fuck is their problem??? but she brushes it off and goes to start her new project, yay...

shes totally having a great time until she finds out just how far theyre willing to go “for research” (theyre really just pretentious fucking assholes who are basically torturing people and using “but science!!!” as an excuse). girl witnesses them recruiting fucking CHILDREN for these experiments and nopes the fuck out. and steals a child in the process. oopsies!! (she returned that kid to their parents and told them to get the fuck outta here) unfortunately!! they dont take kindly to people who know too much leaving their little group!! especially ones that also steal their lab rats!! uh oh!!

so weiss goes to see jex in the middle of the night, scares the everloving shit out of them, scares them EVEN MORE after she explains her situation, and they make up really quick and go on the run together!! how sweet!! (they make up properly later, weiss said sorry like a million times <3)

nowadays they travel around under new identities (their current names are the new identities btw i just refer to them in the past with the same name for simplicity [*cough* i didnt come up with previous names.. *cough*]). they visit bars and jex often does little perfomances and magic tricks there! if anyone's up to it, jex'll have a little spar with someone as well. they get by asking for tips for their performances. they often move from town to town, but they're fairly happy together <3 weiss is still looking around for any leads on possible solutions to jex's condition though, its how she got to know dorian. they crossed paths once and dorian was more than happy to help with her goal!! jex is here mostly to just enjoy themselves with their beloved. <3

notes:

jex fucking LOVES spicy food. doesn't matter how spicy it is, doesn't care how much they always end up coughing afterward, they will eat any kind of spicy food they'll see at any restaurant. (weiss has to beg them not to eat too much otherwise they'll be coughing for hours)

i think about them alot to "if i could ride a bike" - park bird/chevy , specifically in a modern setting. i love them dearly

i ended up writing...way more.. than i thought i had oh my god?? pls i originally did them first bc i thought they had a lot less but..jesus fucking christ man;;

[theskyexists]

gundam eps i hadnt seen yet

i feel the most sorry for Nika. and Guel of course.

Nika seriously is trying to root them out on her own???? she threatened you with a KNIFE

is Nika going to uh. die? wow. Suletta be strong. Nika honestly is so damn cute lol. shes drawn so....tiny. short and stocky.

their covers instantly blown??

suletta’s shounen power is SO POWERFUL that it trumps all of the realistic stakes in the show. which is why the show is  so amazing. it plays the shounen tropes straight IN A REALISTIC WORLD has them work AND have most everybody LOSE as a result. anybody else would have been SPLATTED.

but Sulettas extreme (useful) naivity is actually not frustrating because MIORINE sees through it all. She KNOWS that Suletta was manipulated by her mother. She knows that she is being manipulated also. Question is - does she realise that she needs to prepare to take over the Benerit Group.

how did prospera know that rembran was trying to take over every information system in the world? was it really to stop all war? he was leader of a group selling war machines in order to stop all war? he didnt want pilots suffering experimental tech - alright. he didnt want experimental tech to do the killing - alright. no automated drone strikes basically. hes been cast the villain of course. because he was such a huge dick to mio. and also ordered the strike which killed suletta’s dad and all her mum’s colleagues. why did he do that? because he genuinely believed that they were a threat?

damn, suletta is exactly the wrong person to have seen sophie and norea try to kill nika and hear them talk. because shes so UNBELIEVABLY dumb.  idk i think the data storms DO do something bad to her brain. like....shes....shes got low iq for sure. thats ok! its just a little frustrating sometimes. makes for a handy key to the narrative though.

Suletta saw sophie and norea almost KILL Nika but she doesnt respond to them any differently. why does elans stand-in know about norea. why would norea have agreed to the duel with suletta. does she realise shes just that dumb

‘what does she mean about killing miorine-san’ she means LITERALLY KILL HER. KILL HER witH HER HANDS HER GUNDAM HANDS. LIKE YOU DID!!!!

its a good thing Suletta is completely invulnerable to ptsd, unlike everybody else on the team

jezus did they just kill Lauda as well. they’re really letting the game fall apart. (just before i was thinking: isnt it super easy to miss the antenna and kill somebody??)

these girls are not gonna die but damn you kind of want them to FUCK OFF. why are they being so fucking horrible to Nika - its unforgivable they have zero solidarity they are COMPLETE PSYCHOS. i wont forgive it just because earth is a shithole

ok so this is why Norea decided not to splat Nika and Suletta? but now Suletta could beat them in her aerial.

wow the terrorists aim for the cockpit and dont have the regulation program installed. what a suprise! get CHUCHU OUT OF THERE NOW

what the FUCK is their aim? to kill grassley senior? is the Prince trying to get rid of his dad? make way for the new generation?

I LOVE that this series is saying: yeah you got a big trauma at the plant - you THOUGHT we were going back to games bakc to normal nobody talk BUT NO VIOLENCE AND WAR AND THE REALITY OF WAR MACHINES IS COMING TO THE GAME!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ah earth was absolutely destroyed by gundams. and earth seems to be the factory for gundams, going by nikas child labour story

actually i go back on this - sophie is cool as fuck. DO YOU PILOT THAT TOOL OF MURDER FOR HER???? FUCK YEAH. NO PROSPERA SHOUNEN MANTRA IS HOLDING UP TO THAT DELUGE

has shaddiq ACTUALLY set all this up to take over benerit group? damn. does Earth really trust him?

holy fucking SHIT. HOLY SHIT. WHAT???????????????????????????????? Eri....Aerial. wHAT??????????????? what happened. was her hand forced??? did she do it just out of a chance for revenge?? Suletta looks so much like her NO WAY she’s absolutely a clone. for SURE. so eri is taking the curse?? is suletta special at all? is aerial only doing the gund-bits or??

SULETTA’S CONDITIONING ACTUALLY HELD UP TO THAT SHIT????? HOLY SHIT. to sophie dying???screaming about how she wants food, a warm bed and a family? How the gundam are all weapons???

that ending soundtrack is insanely effective. the singing is like beautiful screaming.

and norea didnt even kill suletta for it. she really let suletta live TWICE and sophie died because of it. EVEN THOUGH sophie died because of it.

shes aiming for an even higher permet score than necessary for controlling ALL INFORMATION SYSTEMS? what the hell does that mean. she wants to make eri happy. HOW

jezus. guel needs to suffer less. everybody needs to suffer less.

the opening and ending animations are always soooooooo Suletta/Miorine and i know for this season Miorine is ghostlike bc shes not there. BUT DUDE I NEED THEM TO BE THAT TEAM THAT BLUE/RED TEAM THAT ACTUALLY HELPS PEOPLE....ah please

really? norea blames Nika for sophie’s death? what? its her own fucking fault lol

wow - anyway - Nika didnt even do her phonecall. its not her info that is endangering the cell. fucking hate Norea. her violence is despicable. HATE HER. HATE HER. HATE HER SO FUCKING MUCH. because she beats on the weakest - her OWN. HER OWN FUCKING PEOPLE

SHE NEVER FINISHED HER CALL??????????????????????but now the anime insists that she did. ok i guess i gotta accept that she did?? i find that so fucking hard to accept. just because she WOULD have said SOMETHING to police doesnt mean that she DID and endangered all those people.

ah. shaddiq considers himself earthian. but i didnt understand that economo-babble at all. is it the translation? ‘war partitioning’? which finances space development. why - if you break it, does earth become a place of proxy wars? he wants to give earth weapons in order to deter such wars...but who the fuck is fighting who here. what proxy wars? the worldbuilding is so impossible

are they seriously standing up to a full contigent of the group’s armed forces?? shouldnt the pilots run? arent they precious? ah they distractions. but how can they run after?

i get no sense for how Earths population is doing. tbf if you didnt want dad to die maybe he shouldn’t have gone in to shoot everybody to shit. but i guess in that world, you die wether you use violence or not.

i cant get over Norea blaming Nika for this. Shaddiqs girl literally took the phone from her hand. why the fuck did they send Nika to school if she wasnt fully indoctrinated....why treat her as a disposable asset who doesnt need to know instead of an important LITERAL go-between?

wow what a fucking idiot that jalil. he actually drew their attention. wow. what a fucking dumb idiot bitch

theyre losing SO MANY FIGHTERS and MATERIEL. they must REALLY believe in shaddiq to have risked this.

what the fuck lol. olcott didnt feel a heartbeat? left her to die? turned out shes not dead? shes not even so dead that she became conscious and is surviving being carried around. wtf was olcott doing. i think guels going to be fighting his own company...AGAIN

the person inside the cockpit was toast but the robot was fine???

ah. thats what olcott was thinking. he realised he coldnt get her medical help in time. he made a hard decision.

Guel sure went through uh. character development.

love how first we see them terrorists in faceless suits threatening to murder our protagonists and then we see benerit soldiers murdering the faceless suit terrorists daughter. anway.

wish Suletta and Miorine....could break out. BREAK OUT OF THIS.

so i was right - cathedra really was a response to ONGOING WAR consuming pilots like expendable parts. automating killing. they deliberately gave no context for this at the beginning.

youre telling me that dad rembran set up the marriage game to marry miorine off to a powerful person because she would be safe? how dude lol. and his toxic masculinity prevented him from EVER COMMUNICATING WITH HIS DAUGHTER ABOUT THIS? what the actual fuck. what a terrible father. worse than any other father in this anime

anyway i love how miorine ALWAYS goes around attempting to verify and check information for a full picture. shes so damn smart.

these openings and endings really need to start becoming reality. but how is Suletta going to ACTUALLY make any fuckign difference if she will not acknowledge that she is NOT making the world a better place. that shes flying a weapon. that shes a hypocrite. that shes a pawn. that her mother is not perfect.

WHAT THE FUCK IS WAR-PARTITIONING????????????????? how am i going to understand any of this without understanding this most fundamental anti-war economic strategy??

[neoarchipelago]

And they were Roommates (part 7)

A/N; Alright, fristly, thank you all so much for the love you're giving this fic. Seriously it warms my heart. This tag list is huge and it makes me want to cry. Also, i couldn't tag on the post cuz i had reached the word limit TT0TT I hope it works anyway

I'm getting more and more anxious to fail you guys, i just hope i'm not gonna fuck this up...

Again thank you for all your ideas and headcanons you guys are amazing!

Warnings: cursing?

The first month. You were in denial. You spent it overworking yourself, avoiding anything that could remind you of him. You had even put his stupid plush in his room, closing the door and keeping it closed. Laswell kept a close eye on you, you knew that. 

You'd spend most of your time on base, only going home to sleep. And then. You were put on time off. Forcefully. 

Laswell asked you to take a week off and to stay home. You had strongly fought over it but to no avail. So around the first week to the second month, your time off began. You thought you might go insane. But you received visits from your new neighbor who you learnt was named Peter. Peter was a nice guy, a bit shy. He'd pass by sometimes to drop one of your packages. You'd have small talk or conversations. 

It made you feel less alone. Because not only did you miss… Simon. You also missed the rest of the squad. The house felt dead..during that week, your mind had started going downhill. By Thursday you had gone back to his room to fetch the little reaper. Now you'd spend your days on your couch, cuddling the damn thing. 

Laswell had ordered you to work from home for the rest of the month. She passed by often. To check on you. She'd get in, not bothering to knock because you couldn't care anymore. 

Once she walked in on you, sitting on the bathroom floor in front of the washing machine, eating chips, watching the plush inside spin around. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Reaper is taking a bath." You had answered with very little emotion. 

During that month, Peter had spent a bit more time with you. He'd pass by to share some food, or to watch a movie. He seemed to have taken pity on you. Even though he picked up Reaper once and you had thrown him a murderous glare. 

And then Laswell had passed by. A serious look on her face. 

"The mission isn't going as planned. They're not coming home yet." 

You had felt yourself break a bit more. 

"Are they ok?" 

"From our intel, they're ok." 

You had sighed with relief. This was the third month they'd been gone. You didn't think you'd ever feel this type of sadness in your life. There was no point denying it. In such little time, Simon had managed to get his way through your heart and nest there. 

Your recent coping mechanism was putting on his hoodie, and sleeping in his bed with Reaper. He'd be so pissed if he knew. You were hoping he'd come back so he could be pissed with you. At least he'd be here. 

You'd spend your days at the base, this time your schedule was closely being watched by Laswell, and then you'd go home, absolutely hating it, trying not to cry. 

A heart wrenching thought kept stammering your brain. What if he never came back… the last things you would have said to each other would have been said in anger. You didn't think you could live through that. 

When the 4th month started, you had become unbearable for Laswell. You wanted to know everything about the mission. She kept refusing, reminding you it was a highly classified mission, as you replied you couldn't give a shit about classified or not. 

You wanted squad 141 back. Or as you had almost screamed once 'your team'. You had seen Laswell wanting to correct you that it wasn't your team but she refrained, understanding how you were feeling. 

She couldn't tell you about the mission but she made sure to keep you updated. They're fine. They've managed to get to the location. They've been ambushed but made it out. 

You were torn in between hating her updates and feeling relieved. To keep you busy and from having a nervous breakdown she put you up on a mission. Some drug lord that used the dark web to sell and buy his merchandise. You were definitely not into it. But if you could pass your anger on that asshole you would. 

You had easily infiltrated his little circle, managed to dismantle various locations, though he kept slipping through your fingers. 

You had gone back home that night, around the middle of the fourth month, absolutely frustrated from everything. 

"It's so fucking frustrating you know? It's like he's always a tiny step away." 

You explained as you were unpacking your food order. 

"He seems to know there's someone after his ass and I can't fucking get to him." You continued. "And Laswell is not letting me get onto the file for the mission the boys are on. GOD I could just … throw something on fire!" 

You groaned looking straight in the eyes of your friend. The plush looked at you without moving. 

You sighed. "I've been talking to an inanimate object." You said, putting your face in your hands. You dropped them on the table again.

"No offense Reaper." You apologized, turning your attention back to the food, the TV in the background filling up the silence a bit. 

You kept munching on your food. 

After you were done, you grabbed Reaper and sat on the couch, a blanket over you. You squished the fluffy death spawn in your hands. You missed him. You FUCKING missed him. 

You didn't even know how you'd react when he'd be back. You were still furious at him. Deeply hurt. But you were also so worried, and so sad. 

You groaned. You wanted him to be back. Even if it was to yell at him that he was an asshole.

A knock at the door was heard. You rolled your eyes. You got up, Reaper still in your arms as you went to open the door. 

"Hey!" 

You stared at Peter. 

"Hi Peter." You replied without a single emotion on your face. 

"Ah… bad day?" 

"Bad existence." 

He laughed. You walked inside, knowing he'd follow you. 

"I came to check to see if you wanted to watch a movie." 

You let yourself fall back down on the couch. 

"Not really into it tonight. Sorry." 

"Nah no problem I get it." He said sitting at the other end of the couch. "Is there something I can do to cheer you up?" . 

You looked at him for a little minute. You shook your head. "Alright. Want a beer?" 

"I hate beer." 

"Fine. A shot of vodka?" He proposed. 

You nodded. 

That guy was a lightweight. 5 shots of vodka and he couldn't properly form a sentence. You had walked him back to his apartment, making sure he was in bed and locking his door. You were a bit drunk too but not enough to erase your thoughts. 

You sighed. Walking into the hallway you stopped, looking right and left. You wanted to sleep in his bed again… you shouldn't. But you wanted to. You walked into the room looking at the bed. You remembered waking up in it, his body warm against yours. His morning voice was deeper. You liked it. You closed your eyes for a second before turning around and walking into your room. 

The alcohol helped as you closed your eyes, you fell fast asleep.

 

The day after had been the same. And the day after as well. But the next was a bit different. You were concerned by something during your work. It seemed that the drug lord had also a hacker in his ranks. And not a bad one. You could probably outsmart him or her but you had been neglectful. Your mind had been more worried about another mission that wasn't yours. 

You headed home after the day. You were exhausted. The fourth month was coming to an end. You didn't feel like eating. You didn't feel like anything. As you got home, you showered, drying your hair afterwards, slipping into one of Simon's black hoodies. You took Reaper with you, slipping under the covers of your bed. This time, you couldn't stop the tears from falling. You hugged the round fluffy thing against you, wishing he was there instead. 

And it was with the tears that the Sandman took you away. 

Around 6 am, your phone rang. You blinked your eyes open. Without checking, which had become a habit, you answered. 

"Hello..?" You answered. 

"Y/N."

"Laswell ? Kate… it's 6 am." 

"We have news from squad 141." 

You sat up in your bed. 

"What is it…" 

"They've completed their mission. The extraction was successful."

You closed your eyes, a shaky breath leaving your lips. 

"They'll be back in a little over 24h." 

"Thank you… really." 

"No problem. Go back to sleep." 

You chuckled. She hung up. You let yourself fall back into bed. They were ok. He was ok… you looked up at the ceiling. Now that you knew he was coming back, that he was safe. The worry, the anxiety had vanished. Pain and anger taking their place. How was he going to react? Will you be strangers? How will you react? One thing was for sure. You wouldn't be the one to give in. You wanted to… god you wanted to. You wanted to feel him near you. To hug him. But the way he left was printed in your memory. The way you felt when you got home, in an empty house. With not a single word from him. 

Pushed by a rise of determination, you got out of bed, grabbing each hoodie you could find that was his. You took off the one you were wearing, and walked to the bathroom, throwing them all in the washing machine. You put it to wash. He wants his hoodies back? Fine. He'll have them. Brand New. Without any trace that you wore them. 

And with that thought in mind you climbed back into bed. 

You had flung yourself back into work the next day, trying to suppress the new anxiety that grew in you. You were still trying to figure out who the hacker working for the drug lord was. He seemed to be good at cleaning any trace of himself. You didn't want to go home. You glanced at your phone. 2 am. You were still at the base. You were surprised Laswell hadn't come to drag you home herself as she sat not too far from you.

You had been sitting here for the entire day, trying to figure out your little con's next move. It was infuriating. Driving you insane. You blinked. 

Hi birdie. 

You froze. What? No. It was a coincidence. You checked that your location or anything that could be used to track you down was locked away and secure. 

You kept browsing the website deep in the dark web, shaking the odd feeling away. But this time, it was a whole sentence that made you frown. 

On a little branch was a little bird. The little sparrow, unaware of the cat lurking by, sang its heart away. 

You were sure. It was meant for you. That Goddamn hacker was taunting you. 

"Laswell." You called. 

"Yes?" She answered, stepping towards you. 

You pointed at the screen, highlighting the little text with your mouse. 

"Shit." She cursed. "what does it mean?" 

You shrugged. 

"It can mean various things. Obviously they know it's the Sparrow they are facing. But I've made sure my real identity was safe so I don't think they have that. My location is safe too, there was no hack attempt. These are just little messages scattered around the websites we're checking for their little trades." You explained. 

"So what? They're threatening you?" 

"I don't think so. It seems like they're trying to get on my nerves. Probably to distract me from something. Just got to find out what." You said with a sigh. 

"Alright. If you have anything new, call me. Now go home." She said a little tap on your back. 

You eyed the screen in front of you. This was interesting. If they truly were trying to distract you, it was a bit silly. You took a mental note to be more careful from now on. 

You had scanned all the little messages around the web sites, trying to find something that would link them. Clearly, they were all aimed at you. Whoever it was kept calling you birdie. And it was highly annoying. You were growing tired yet you felt so giddy. You felt nervous. You closed your eyes, sighing. It was time to head home.

 

The night had been short. You were exhausted. You rolled around in bed. You closed your eyes. Silence. 

Silence… and a laugh? You frowned. 

You got up, taking Reaper in your arms. You slowly opened the door, peeking out. There were definitely voices whispering. You opened the door wider, stepping out and tip-toeing your way to the end of the hallway. 

You looked around the corner and froze. 

"God fucking damn it!" You cursed out loud. 

You fully came into view now taking in the sight before you. 

"Sparrow!!" 

The man jumped, running to you and swaying you in his arms. 

"God soap! You're squishing me and Reaper!" You complained. 

"Who?" Gaz asked. 

After putting you down you looked at soap, extending your arms to his face so he could be eye to eye with the plush. 

"Oh. Alright. Sorry Reaper." He said with a wide smile. 

You smiled jumping on him this time. They were back. They were safe!

"Hahaha!" He laughed. 

He put you down again. Stepping aside to let you greet the rest of the team.

You hugged gaz. Then Price took you in his arms, staying like that for a little moment. 

"Missed you dad" you whispered jokingly. 

"Missed you sweety." He whispered in the same tone. 

And then came his turn. Standing in front of each other, eye to eye. You wanted to run and hug him. Fuck you wanted to touch him to make sure this was real. Unfortunately for the both of you, the pain was deeper than anything else. He didn't move, no expression. Did he regret? Did he care? Had he already put aside anything feeling or affection you had towards each other? With a lump in your throat you spoke first. 

"Lieutenant." You greeted. 

He frowned. 

"Sparrow." He answered. 

Nothing else was said. It broke your heart. You could feel it. You turned around looking at the guys again, clearly sensing their discomfort.

"You were supposed to arrive a bit later, what happened?" You asked sitting down on the couch, the boys mimicking you. Ghost remained up, glancing at you from afar. 

"We managed to wrap it up and we jumped on the plane back. We've been told someone has been worried about us." Gaz answered, sending you a knowing look. 

"Really? Wonder who could it be…" you feigned innocence.

"Yes, it's odd, Laswell said she was pestered for weeks. " Price added. 

"Truly curious." You added an innocent look and batted your lashes, making the men laugh. 

"What about you? How's it going?" Soap asked. 

"I'm fine." You lied. 

"You look tired." Price noted. 

Suddenly you felt watched.. Everyone was staring at you. Ghost looked more tense than the others. 

"I've been working on a mission and it's been a bit complicated. I stayed at the base until pretty late- with Laswell." You looked at Price.

He smirked. 

"What's complicated about it?" Gaz asked. 

"It's… it was easy at first. But it seems that I'm facing someone like me…" you tried to explain without giving any details as the mission was confidential. "And he, or she, seems to always be a step ahead. And… mostly. It's been acting weird." 

You frowned, losing yourself a bit in your own mind.

"Hey, Sparrow" soap called. 

You looked at him. 

"You got this." 

You smiled at him. Nodding off. 

"We brought breakfast. Ghost said you like muffins!" Price chimed.

You glanced at the man again, still glancing at you. If he thought it'd be that easy he was wrong. 

You ate breakfast with the team, so thrilled to have them back. You felt as if life had been brought back into the apartment. The only thing that took away some of that happiness was the tension between you and Ghost. 

After helping you clean out they offered to take you to base, and you accepted. You excused yourself to go get dressed quickly. Once you were ready, you opened your door falling face to face with a skull mask. 

You stared at each other. You did your best to show an emotionless facade. 

"You washed the hoodies." 

"Yes." 

"And you put them in my room." 

"Correct."  

Silence. 

"Are you giving them back?"

"Affirmative." 

"Fuck…" he cursed frowning. "Y/N-"

"Sparrow." You corrected. 

He looked hurt for a second. 

"Why?" He asked. 

"A beg your pardon?" You asked frowning too. 

"Why are you doing this?" He questioned. You could feel the frustration. 

"Doing what? Isn't this what you wanted, Lieutenant? You wanted to erase everything and you wanted your hoodies back." 

"Stop…" 

"Stop what?" 

He didn't answer. Your heart was beating so fast. It was torture not giving in. But this time you wouldn't let him get away with it. He couldn't just play with your feelings like this. He sighed, straightening up. He looked… embarrassed? For a second. 

"Did… did you have to wash them?" He asked. 

First you were confused. And then you remembered what he had said once. 

"Everytime I take back one of my hoodies there's your scent on it…" 

"What? I smell bad?" You laughed. 

"Quite the opposite…" 

You smirked.  Walking out of your room slowly and closing your door behind you. You looked up at him. 

"I wouldn't give you the pleasure of leaving my scent on it. You've lost that privilege." You finished with an innocent smile before turning away and walking away from him. 

You very distinctly heard him curse. You smirked. If he wanted you back, he'd have to fight for it. And if he didn't… then you'd be settled on his feelings. 

You had driven to the base with the squad. After getting out of the cars, you had all gathered. 

"It feels good to be back! See Sparrow? We're all good! We can come back to annoy you in your apartment!" Soap joked. 

"Don't you dare." Ghost had growled. 

"It will be my pleasure." You countered, sending a side glance to Ghost as he frowned again. Soap was thrilled. 

It was on a light note that you separated, the boys going their way to meet and start on the mission report, as you went back to your drug dealer. 

Walking in the big room, you sat down at one of the tables facing an enormous screen. Various setups with their own screens were scattered around the room, where people worked. You greeted everyone. You received smiles and little good mornings. 

You opened your laptop freezing on the spot. You blinked and gasped at the black screen. 'encrypted'. 

"No..nonononoo…" 

Laswell had immediately come to you. 

"What's wrong?" 

"My laptop is encrypted. Fuck!" You checked your phone. Also encrypted. 

"What does it mean?" 

"It means. Someone tried to get in. As a defense mechanism it encrypts itself, and the rest of the devices linked to it. It blocks anything or anyone from touching the data." 

You tried to explain, already trying to decrypt your device. 

"When did it happen?" 

"I don't know, recently. My phone was fine 20 mins ago." You explained. 

"Guys!" You called, gaining everyone's attention. "Any attack? Anything?" 

"No ma'am. We did find three other sentences on websites that were not on our radar. We managed to find 3 domains where the trades were active." The boy explained. 

"What…?" You were confused now. 

"He flagged these websites? He literally showed them to us?" Laswell interrogated.

You looked at your screen as it slowly booted back into your home screen. 

"Sparrow. What's going on." 

You were still in shock. The words written in a small window opened on the home's screen seemed to laugh at you. 

"Sparrow?" Laswell called again. 

You turned the screen to her. She frowned. 

"He served us these tips on a silver platter. And it wasn't to make a diversion on something big.  Because he's not working with the drug lord. Not anymore." 

You couldn't believe you were once again in this situation. Laswell sighed. 

"It's official. You're his target." 

You turned back to the screen, taking a deep breath rereading the words one last time. 

You're mine birdie.

Laswell had driven you home that evening. She had walked you to your door and walked you inside. There she was again. The mama bear. 

You sighed, dropping your bag on the floor, not even shocked to see the whole squad in the living room. You glared at soap. 

"Put down Reaper." You ordered. 

He immediately put it back on the couch, noticing your awful mood. Price had noted too, and had mostly noticed how Laswell was tense. 

"What's going on?" He asked, turning to Laswell. 

Before she could answer you chimed in, as you walked to grab a glass of water. 

"A mission going south. Nothing unusual in our field." You said, throwing a knowing look at Laswell.  

She looked pissed for a moment but brushed it off. 

"Y/N." She said seriously. You choked on the water. She had just spoken your real name in front of everyone. Everyone went silent looking at you and Kate. 

"You are not allowed to leave the base." She started. 

"I'm already not allowed to leave the base." You protested. 

"You are to be accompanied by someone each time you leave your apartment." 

You opened your mouth in shock, wait. This was going too far. The boys had turned serious. 

"You'll be closely watched by squad 141." 

"Oh come on! They've just come back from a mission!" You debated again. 

"No arguing." She ordered. 

"You are overreacting Kate." You answered in the same tone. 

"Hey hey. Intel." Price interupted, standing up. 

"No! No. Absolutely not." You snapped. "You are overreacting Kate. It wasn't even a threat. I'll get to him before he can even guess the continent I'm in." You started. 

"This isn't the first time Y/N! I'm not taking any chances." She tried to explain. 

"There's no need to take a chance. I'm literally at the base. I go nowhere else. I haven't gone into a civilian zone since… I don't even remember!" You debated. 

She crossed her arms. 

"Kate. Do you think I'm unsafe here, at the base?" You asked. 

"No." She was forced to admit. 

"Then no problem. No close security, no babysitters." You asked. 

She seemed to ponder. Then she sighed, relaxing a bit. 

"I still want to know." Price asked again. 

You rolled your eyes. You felt like you were being scolded by your parents. And God knows it hadn't happened in a very very long while. 

"I'm working on a mission. I had a target and it was being helped by a skillful fucker. Turns out, that fucker betrayed the target and seems a lot more interested in me." 

"Did he threaten you?" Soap asked. You had never seen him this serious. 

"No-"

"Yes." Laswell interrupted. You rolled your eyes. 

"Not. Really." You added. Glancing at Laswell. "It was some cryptic message. But he did try to hack me personally." You finally said sitting down at the counter. You sighed. You had to make sure to find him before Laswell and now, by the looks of it, Price, had a nervous breakdown. 

"No need for the squad." 

A shiver ran down your spine. You slowly turned to look at Simon. 

"I'm not going anywhere."

You wanted to throw something at his face.  

This bitch. You had looked at him in utter shock and disapproval. You were pacing around in your room. This was all too much. Your mind was a mix of so many things, emotions, thoughts. A soup. Your mind was soup. Wait. What?

You closed your eyes. You were going to go insane. 

A knock on the door was heard. You rolled your eyes for what seemed to be the hundredth time today. 

"Yes?" 

You had that funny feeling again as you saw him walk into your room, closing the door behind him. 

Does he have any idea the hold he had on you? You glanced at his hand. You wanted to smile but bit your lip to avoid it. He had one of his hoodies in his hand. 

"Do you want it?" 

"You want me to wear it now? " You ask. 

"Never said you couldn't. Just want them back." 

"No thank you." You answered with a fake forced smile because clearly he was so cute. 

He looked away with what seemed to be a smirk under his mask. 

"Are you going to be mad forever?" 

He asked. 

The question made your blood boil, turning your mood back to something very sour.  

"Why? This what you wanted no? Didn't think about the consequences when you'd be back?" You asked, stepping closer to him. "You put a single thought into what would happen if you'd be back? Or maybe you just thought I'd jump into your arms as if you hadn't broke me and stepped all over my FUCKING heart?" You finished, a few inches from him. 

You blushed slightly. Your lips had moved faster than your brain. But you had been honest with him. He looked hurt for a second. Like he had the right to. 

"Y/N. I'm sorry…" he said. 

You bit your lip. No. Not so easily. 

"Simon. Sorry isn't going to fix this…" you answered. 

"What is then? Tell me." His voice lowered. 

"You're going to have to make up your mind Simon. Do you want me in your life or not? I can't keep being hurt each time you feel like pushing me away." You said honestly. 

He frowned. His fingers lifting up to your waist. The touch gave you goosebumps. You hadn't felt his touch since he arrived. And you craved it. For some reason, while looking into his eyes, you knew he did too. He just seemed afraid to scare you away. He leant down letting his forehead touch yours. The mask felt cold against your skin. His other hand joined your waist this time, more confidently. He wrapped his arms more tightly around you pulling you flushed against him. Your breath had quickened. 

"Simon…" you whispered. 

"I've been wanting to hold you since I arrived…" he growled. 

"S-simon…" you tried, softly pushing on his chest with your hands. 

"To touch you … fuck… you smell so good…"

"Is this what you really wanted… to hold me so your shirt smells like me…" you smirked. 

He chuckled. 

"Are you going to wear my hoodies…?" 

"No…" you whispered. 

He held you tighter. 

You felt so warm, god you had missed him. There was still something in the back of your mind just repeating to you that he hurt you. 

"You're not going to make it that easily Simon… you need to make up your mind.." you broke. 

He stared into your eyes, so God damn close to you. 

Knock knock knock. 

"Hey guys! We're leaving, come say bye bye!" 

You laughed at Soap's voice. 

You separated with a curse. 

"God damn it johnny…" Ghost said. 

You cleared your throat. 

"Seems like we have places to be." You said.

He grabbed your wrist, marking you look into his eyes.

"I'll apologize properly. I promise."

"Try to figure out what you want first..." you said, a heavy weight on your heart.

Once in the living room you hugged everyone goodbye. Laswell and Price were the first to leave. A bit later you and Ghost walked gaz and soap to the door. 

"See you tomorrow then!" Soap cheered. 

"Absolutely not." Ghost answered. 

"It'll be lovely Soap." You countered. "Get home safely." 

"Lose yourself on the way." Ghost added. 

You smiled and rolled your eyes. 

Behind Soap, a silhouette appeared. 

"Hey Sparrow! Got you some-" 

The squad turned to stare at the new arrival. You smirked, feeling Ghost lean closer to you. 

"Hey Peter." You greeted. 

"Hum…hi… so… you want the muffins?"

"We have muffins." You heard Ghost next to you. 

"It will be lovely Peter, thank you." You smiled as you walked to him, grabbing the bag. He smiled at you sheepishly. 

"Let me present to you the squad" you said, turning back to them. 

"Ah… i-its not necessary… squad 141 is famous… especially… Humm.." 

"Me." Ghost said. His voice had gotten darker.

You noticed how Peter seemed to be scared of Ghost.  

"So… hum, which one is your roommate?" He asked, turning to you with a smile. 

You smiled apologetically to him. 

"Me." Ghost said again, this time grabbing the back of your pants and pulling you back closer to him. You gasped. What the…? (t

Soap and Gaz were trying not to laugh and Peter… had changed expression. 

"Oh, Nice. Hum, I'm gonna go guys. Nice seeing you, Sparrow." He smiled at you. 

Then he glanced up. If it wasn't for a tiny second you would have missed it. The cold and dark gaze Ghost and Peter sent each other. 

[cevansbrat0007]

The Laundromat

Summary: After your smarmy landlord refuses to fix your broken washing machine, you resign yourself to spending your days at the laundromat. That is, until your boyfriend, Andy Barber, gets involved. Also be sure to check out the follow-up fic, The Incident.

Warnings: Frustrated Reader, Smarmy Landlord, Sexual Harassment, Angry/Protective Andy, Daddy!Kink, Light Spanking, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt courtesy of @writer84 - hope you enjoy. Part of Early Growing Pain. Written on my phone. All mistakes my own.

___

Fuck! You couldn’t believe this had happened yet again. Gritting your teeth, you watch as your washing shakes and rattles before giving you one final, dramatic clunk.

It had died. For the third goddamned time.

Trying to keep your breathing under control, you stomp your way up the stairs to grab your phone. It was time to call Rodney, your deadbeat landlord.

Thankfully, he answers on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Rodney, hi! It's -“

“Of course I know who this is! Always happy to hear from one of my favorite tenants.”

His overly enthusiastic response has you rolling your eyes.

“Rodney, my washing broke down. Again.” You run a frustrated hand through your hair.

“Oh. What a shame. But I’m afraid I’m real busy today, sweetheart. Not sure if I have time to fit you in until sometime in the next week or two.” You could hear the smile in his tone.

“Seriously? This is the third freaking time in three months! I need it fixed today.” Your left hand goes to massage your temple. "Please."

“Well, sweetheart, there’s always the laundromat.”

Argh!” You slam a fist onto your counter. “That is unacceptable - especially since you didn’t fix it right the first time. C’mon, dude.”

Rodney heaves out a dramatic sigh on the other line. “Fine, fine. I’ll be there by 2:00pm.”

“But it’s after 10:00am already and I have plans tonight.” With your boyfriend, Andrew Barber. But he didn’t need to know that.

“Aw, well, you know, I just looked at my schedule and I actually can’t make it out there until closer to 3:00pm. Sorry, honey.” Your landlord does not sound the least bit apologetic.

“Fine.” You grumble. “See you then.”

“Bye for now, sugar.” And then the line goes dead.

Fuck!

——

Rodney rings your doorbell a little after 3:30pm. You swing open the door, clearly pissed.

“Sorry, about the delay. I was pretty busy.” The man with crooked teeth and salt and pepper hair holds up his old-looking toolbox.

“Whatever. Can we just get to fixing my machine? Please. I have somewhere to be tonight.”

“Of course, but I was hoping you might be kind enough to offer a tired man a glass of iced tea while he works.” There was that crooked, slightly yellowed grin again.

“I only have lemonade. If you head down to the basement, I’ll bring you a glass.”

He nods his head again and then trapse down to the basement. You quickly pour him some fresh-squeezed lemonade. And then you hurry to join him, handing over the glass when you do.

“Boy this is a tough one.” Rodney moves the machine away from the wall. With a small shudder, you watch as he starts to take off his shirt as well.

“Wife just bought it for me - can’t come home covered in dirt.” Here’s the thing, the man wouldn’t come off so icky if he bothered to invest some teeth whitener.

Oh…and if he wasn’t rocking the whole predator vibe. So, ew factor engaged.

“Sweetheart, can you hand me that Flathead screw driver?

“Uh, that’s a little beyond my wheelhouse. Is it this one?”

“No, you pretty thing. That’s a Phillips. Lemme’ show you.” And then suddenly he’s behind you, breathing on your neck, the smell of his breath threatens to make you gag. His hands are on top of yours.

Heart pounding in your ears, you pick up the biggest wrench in the box - which you're fully prepared to use as a weapon.

“Aye now. I didn’t mean any harm.” He backs away, palms up. His chubby belly bouncing lightly. “I just like helping pretty girls is all. How about I take out to the little sandwich shoppe down the street as an apology?”

“No.” You huff, wrapping your arms across your dark blue blouse. And, of course, you’re still holding the wrench. “Either fix my machine or leave.”

“Come have an early dinner with me and I will.”

“No! Do your job and get the fuck out of my home.” You can feel your chest heaving as your skin grows flushed.

“Technically, this is my home. And if I don’t like the people who rent my homes, I can make their lives difficult.” Rodney tells you, his mouth set in a firm line.

“Get. Out. Now.

“Fine. But first, give me back my wrench.” He holds out his hand expectantly.

“I will. As soon as you step foot out my front door.”

___

An hour later, you sat baking at the laundromat - the only laundromat within a thirty-minute range.

And it was bustling. So far, you’d only been about to secure one washing machine for yourself and you needed two more.

You look down at your outfit, and sigh in dismay. Your sneakers, worn gray yoga pants, and blue shirt just weren’t going to cut it tonight.

Just then you spy an open machine. You shoot your man a brief text, apologizing for having to cancel last minute and shove your phone back in your pocket.

By the time you remember to pull out your phone, you still have one load of laundry spinning in the washer, and two more in the dryer.

God, were you sweating!

2 Missed Calls from Andy Bear

2 New Voicemails

3 New Texts from Andy Bear

Biting your lip, you check the messages. All of the messages. The first two voicemails ask what came up and whether or not you’d need to push back dinner.

While texts came off a bit…annoyed.

Andy Bear: Baby, where are you?

Andy Bear: Just answer your goddamned phone, please. Are you okay?

Andy Bear: Jesus, what fuck, honey? As soon as I’m done with this last case file, I’m coming over.

You: Sweetheart, there is no need. I’ll see you tomorrow.

*Silence*

Rolling your eyes, you keep working to finish your laundry. Once you’re done, you take your time hauling out the bags and throwing them in your truck.

While you had initially been trying to fold your clothes, at some point you had given up and just chucked them your over-sized IKEA bags.

___

Forty minutes later…

You finally pull in front of your two-family brownstone, only to dismayed when you see your man’s Audi parked there as well.

Great. Super duper awesome.

And he had a key to your place, which meant he was already inside. Huffing and puffing as you carry heavy bags up stairs, you’re not surprised when your Big Man opens your door.

“Hi, now please move.” You brush by him, winded and sweating while he follows behind you.

“What the hell?! Why the fuck are you suddenly giving me the cold shoulder?” He growls.

“I am not!” You snap back. “I told you didn’t have to come over, Andy.”

He grabs a bag from you, looks inside, and then tosses it on the bed with a thunk.

“You blew me off to go shopping?” That one thick vein in his neck is pronounced and throbbing. “Do you know bad I was dying to see you today? Goddamnit!”

“Oh. My. God.” Your hands sink into your curls and pull. “You are ridiculous, you know that?”

You move to walk by him again, only for him to wrap one big, slightly calloused hand around your tiny bicep.

“Do not walk away from Daddy when we’re speaking, little girl.” You turn and level a decent kick to his shin, eliciting a curse from as he hops on one foot.

“I will have you know that my washing machine broke. Again.” You dig through your kitchen, desperately looking for something to eat.

Oh, look! A box stale saltines.

You turn back to Andy. "It broke for the third time and I called my fucking dick of a landlord who claimed that he couldn’t come by until 3:00pm, which was really more like 3:30pm. And then, the smarmy bastard took off his shirt, got a little handsy, and basically refused to fix anything unless I grabbed dinner with him.”

“He what? That little fucking bitch did what?” Andy’s face goes red, his nostrils flaring.

Unfazed, you pour yourself a glass of lemonade.

“Exactly what I just said! So, I threatened him with the biggest wrench he had and then kicked him out.”

“Uh huh.” Is the only thing your Big Man says.

“So, I just spent over three hours sitting in a hot, sweaty laundromat fighting people for fucking washing machines.” You throw your hands up in frustration.

You chug your drink as Andy approaches you, effectively pining you against your kitchen sink. He plucks the glass from your hand polishes off himself before leaning down to whisper in your ear:

“Do you know who else has a state-of-art washing machine? Complete with air conditioning, food, and a full bar?”

Trembling slightly, you look into enticing blue eyes and shake your head “no”.

“Your Daddy.” He growls against the tender flesh of your throat. “Your man has all that and more.”

He flips your body around and delivers two smacks to your ass.

“I - I didn’t want to bother you and -“

“Ow!” He pops you again. “Ow! Ow!”

“Baby girl, you are never a bother. Now I’m going to take you out for a sandwich. That little shop around the corner. Let’s go.”

“Okay, Sir.

“Bothering me…” He mumbles, still shaking his head in disbelief.

___

You’re halfway to the sandwich shoppe when you stroll by Rodney’s own home.

“Ugh!”

“What?”

“Nothing.” You say before rolling your eyes. “My skeezey ass landlord lives there and…

You trail off when he turns away and proceeds to head up Rodney’s stairs.

“Oh, god! Andy, come back! Jesus - baby, let it go!”

Let’s just say that, a month later, you found yourself moving in with Andy. After a while, it simply became too hard to deny your man the one thing he seemed to want more than anything.

Especially after The Incident.

END

[macabrebatz]

How You Met The Candyman

Warnings/notes: Gender neutral reader, cursing, mentioning of canon typical violence

Author’s Note: This is probably the best one shot out of all of my “how you met the slashers” series.

"You know what we should do?"

It was Friday night, and you and a couple of your friends had decided to have a sleepover at your house. You all were laid out in your living room. Blankets and sleeping bags were laid throughout the floor. Almost every pillow in the house was also in the living room, most of which were also on the floor.

You walked out of the kitchen with a large bowl of popcorn, adding to the multitude of snacks and drinks lined up on the coffee table in front of the couch.

You grabbed a pillow off the ground and plopped on the couch beside your friend, Alex.

"What should we do?" you asked.

"Yeah, what should we do besides watching this movie because it suuuucckks," your other friend, Emma, said. She was laying on the ground watching the TV.

"Let's play Bloody Mary," Alex said.

"Boo, no," Emma said from the floor.

"Why not?" Alex said, throwing up their hands.

"Maybe because it's for kids, and it's not real," you said.

"What about Candyman?" Alex suggested.

"What the hell is that?" Emma questioned, turning on her side from her spot on the floor.

"Yeah, I've never heard of that. Only Candyman I know is Willy Wonka," you said with a chuckle.

"Oh my gosh, are we going to summon Willy Wonka? Now that shit sounds scary," Emma said.

"No, man. You guys seriously haven't heard of Candyman?" Alex asked.

Both you and Emma shook your heads. Alex's shocked face quickly formed into a smirk as they reached for their phone.

"Whatcha doing?" Emma asked.

"I'm going to tell you guys the backstory of Candyman," Alex said as they typed away on their phone.

After a couple of minutes, it appeared that Alex had pulled up an article on the phone.

"Let's dim the lights. Make it a little spooky in here," Alex said.

"Yes, sir," you said jokingly as you got up from the couch. You walked over to the light switch and fiddled around with the knob to dim the lights. The switch was old and your family barely used it so turning it was a slow process. You looked up at the lights as you did so. Now the room was filled with more ambient lighting, similar to a movie theater as the lights would go down when a movie began.

"I thought we grew out of ghost stories a long time ago," you said as you sat back down.

"Who said this was a ghost story? This actually happened," Alex said.

"Yeah, I'll be the judge of that. Let's hear it," Emma said as she sat up on the floor.

"In the 1800s there was a tragic death of a man by the name of Daniel Robitaille. He was a painter in Chicago. The legend told that Daniel was the son of a slave who became extremely wealthy after inventing a machine that mass-produced shoes during the American Civil War. Daniel grew up to become a well-known painter, most famous for capturing a person's status in portraits. Sometime around 1890, the young painter had been commissioned by a wealthy landowner to capture the beauty of his daughter, a white virgin," Alex stated.

"This doesn't sound scary at all," you mumbled.

"Shut up and listen," Alex said, bringing the phone closer to their face.

"The painter's only real sin was falling in love with the girl in question with whom they were to have a child out of wedlock. Unfortunately, the girl's father had discovered their relationship and was left so outraged that he hired a lynch mob to find and kill the young painter. As the mob chased him down the streets of Chicago, they eventually overpowered him and sawed off his right hand with a rusty blade."

"What the fuck? That's messed up," Emma said.

Alex nodded and continued to read.

"Daniel's body was then smeared with honey from a local apiary, causing the bees to sting him to death and prompting the future generations of the neighborhood to call him Candyman," Alex said, sitting the phone down.

"Ok? That's seriously fucked up and tragic, but how is that scary to us," you questioned.

"Well, if you let me finish. I'll explain," Alex said.

You pretended to lock your mouth and throw away the key, indicating that you were listening.

"Legend has it that Candyman's vengeful spirit still lurks throughout Chicago. He'll also show up anywhere you summon him. It's a lot like Bloody Mary. Go in the bathroom, say his name five times in the mirror, and he shows up to kill you," Alex explained.

"May I speak now?" you asked.

"Yeah."

"Why would I do that? Why would I willingly summon someone who is going to kill me?" you said while laughing.

"For fun, (Y/N)! Have you ever done something just for the fun of it?" Alex said.

"Since when is willingly summoning ghosts fun?" Emma said from the floor.

"Yeah, what she said. I don't fuck around with that shit. Ninety percent of horror movies could be avoided if people would stop fucking with the supernatural," you said.

Alex couldn't help but laugh.

"Screw you guys," they said.

A few hours passed and your friends were down for the count. Alex and Emma were both fast asleep. You on the other hand was wide awake, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram. You looked at the time.

It was a little past 3 and you weren't even tired. You were just bored. You sighed as you put your phone down and got up to go to the bathroom.

You turned on the light and were instantly met with your reflection in the large bathroom mirror. You may have not felt tired but you certainly looked it. You turned the water on and splashed your face a little. You looked back into the mirror, making eye contact with yourself.

You thought back on what Alex had said earlier. All of that stuff about Candyman.

You didn't believe in ghost stories for the most part, so why not? Nothing could possibly happen, right?

"Screw it," you mumbled, standing up straight.

Your reflection stared back at you.

"Candyman," you said.

You glanced around the bathroom and then back at the mirror.

"Candyman."

You then cracked the bathroom door open, making sure your voice hadn't woken your friends.

"Candyman."

You closed the door with your hand as your eyes stayed glued to the mirror.

"Candyman."

All of a sudden, you had goosebumps. The hair on your arms was standing up. It was such a strange feeling. The air seemed colder, and the bathroom seemed quieter.

"Candyman."

You gulped taking a look around the bathroom.

Nothing.

You looked back in the mirror.

Nothing.

It was just you staring back.

There was no mysterious man from the past without a hand.

"See," you said to yourself, "what did you expect?"

You turned to exit the bathroom but to your shock, the nob wouldn't turn.

"What the hell?"

You tried turning it again. It didn't even feel locked. It felt jammed as if it was glued in place. You tried wiggling it then turning again but it wouldn't budge.

"Hey, someone let me out of here!" you called out, slapping your hand on the door.

The lights began to flicker over the top of your head. You looked up, confused. That lightbulb was basically brand new.

You would admit that you were beginning to become panicked. You banged on the door again, trying to get the attention of your friends.

"Guys! I'm locked in! Please help!" you called out to no avail. They couldn't hear you and you had no idea why.

The flickering of the lights began to get worse and worse and your heart rate had begun to elevate. You could hear it pounding away in your chest, beating in your ears.

And in a blink of an eye, the lights were out.

It was pitch black.

And you were terrified.

"Guys! Let me out! This isn't funny!"

If being locked in wasn't scary enough, the dark was a sure-fire way to terrify you to your core.

"I am the writing on the wall, the sweet smell of blood. Be my victim," a powerful voice beamed down. It shook you, causing you to back up against the invisible source.

The light flickered again, causing you to see the figure looming over you. You weren't sure who it was but after what you just did, you had a good fucking idea.

He walked closer to you. The bathroom was small and you had nowhere to go.

Cold metal met the side of your face, gently sliding down to your chin. You realized it was a hook.

Despite the flickering lights, the closer he got the more you could see his face. For a supernatural vengeful spirit, he was handsome. In fact, he was so handsome that it calmed your nerves a bit.

"You're mine," he whispered.

And just like that, he was gone. The light had stopped flickering and the door behind gave way, flinging open. You lost your balance and fell down on the ground.

"Damn it, I think I peed myself."

[missluckycharms]

What is grief, if not love persevering?

Anon asked: heyyy! i love your writing sm💕 can you write angst please? make it hurt☹

Masterlist.

Summary: in which Harry is a single Dad due to losing his wife five years ago just shortly after their little love was born. Y/N has been there through it all. Harry has a rough night filled with whiskey and tears for his late wife.

A/N: this one is full of Angst and light hearted jokes to not get you too sad … sorry in advance, it’s a real tear jerker. Enjoy!!

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, talks of alcohol and drug abuse, talks of depression and very low mental health, curse words.

—

Five years.

It’s been five years since the passing of Myla Styles, the woman who granted Harry a wish he always wanted, the woman who loved him beyond all the galaxies and the woman who never saw any wrong in anyone, not even the worst of people, she always used to say “deep down, their heart is just aching” and Harry always admired that about her, she always looked on the positive side of life.

She held that same attitude as he held her hand in the hospital room, her fragile and pale body laying on the white bed as she peered up at him, oxygen tube in her nostrils and too many machines to count hooked up to her body, she was a shell of a woman, but she still had a heart of gold, the same hear Harry fell in love with when they were sixteen years of age. He hated seeing her this way, especially when their nearly one week old baby was resting in his other arm, fast asleep as her Mum clung to every bit of life she had left, but not once did her smile fade.

It all happened so fast, one day she was pushing life into the world and eight days later her life was being taken out of this world. There was complications with birth, the doctors and nurses finding undiagnosed ovarian cancer in her ovaries when they had to send her in for an emergency c section. Myla confessed she felt off, her body didn’t feel right, but she knew if something was seriously wrong, she wouldn’t risk the life of her baby getting treatment, she would rather her baby live over her. Doctors and nurses tried their best, trying to refer her to new hospitals to get stronger chemo if she wanted, but Myla refused, she told them to let her go, she was tired and she couldn’t stick around long enough to see if these treatments would work — she knew she was dying but Harry refused to believe it.

The day she left, was the day Harry felt like his whole world stopped, like the curtains were shut and he was left in a dark room with no way out. He promised Myla he would do his best to take care of their love, who they named Honey. He was dealing with the loss, Honey taking his mind off it a little and giving him reasons to pull himself from bed even on the days when he wanted to lay around and wallow in his own darkness — she pulled him out of those days, but two months later it all came crashing down on top of him.

He slipped into a wrong mind set, immediately knowing that Honey had to be taken away from him because he was living in fear he would hurt her, one day he woke up and he looked at her and just cried, he held her and he felt nothing, he didn’t even sympathise with her when she would cry for food, he felt nothing towards Honey and this scared him, terribly. Anne, his Mum took Honey in, letting Harry to relax and blow off some steam and get some help, his and Myla’s family all agreeing and saying he needed help and it wasn’t something to be ashamed about — he just lost his wife, they can’t lose him either.

Harry took the wrong route of clearing his mind and getting help, he found his therapy at the end of a bottle and a line of cocaine. He slipped into an endless spiral of week long benders and debts for drug money along with risking losing his home due to him quitting his high up job at his Fathers Law firm, he completely crashed and burned, he couldn’t live without her, he couldn’t stop his mind racing and the only way for it all to stop, and let him feel numb — was when he was drunk and high, passing out in every room of his home and in his garden, the neighbours finding him sometimes in their yard in a mess. They were the ones who got him help, they called up his family and they all rushed him off in an ambulance to get him sober and conscious again. Here is where he made the decision to sign himself into rehab, accepting the help the hospital offered and a few months later, he was out and clean, he stayed with his Mum until Honey turned one and that was the year Harry found his smile again, found his life and purpose again.

Looking back now, he doesn’t know how he ever made himself believe it was Honeys fault Myla was no longer here, he doesn’t know how he’s even alive because of all the drugs and alcohol he ingested every single night for three months solid, but he knows why everything turned around, it was his Angel looking down on him, guiding him and kicking him in the ass to get up and look after their little love, just like she asked him to do before she left, always look after himself and Honey.

It’s been five years since her passing, Harry is doing better than ever, he started working for his Dad’s company again and now he’s the president of the law firm, alongside his Dad who is the CEO, Harry being second in command and then being the CEO when his Dad retires from the firm. They kept their family home, even if it was just the two of them, they loved the home and it still felt like Myla was living here, her makeup still tucked away in her unused vanity in Harrys bedroom and her favourite paintings still hung up around the home. Harry even hired a nanny, she has been working for him for two years now, she’s even working alongside Harry in his office being his receptionist during the day and she’s Honeys afternoon and night nanny when she’s done in work and Honey is home from school.

Y/N is Honeys nanny, she takes care of the little lady and feeds her daily, even taking her to the playground and to the movies when Honey asked her could she go. She would do anything for Honey and Honey loved her endlessly, she loved the way she would allow her to eat sneaky chocolate bars after dinner every now and then and how she would always play dollies with her, kneeling down on the floor of the den and playing with the small girl until they were both in fits of laughter. Harry also adored Y/N, her passion for her job at the law firm along with her passion for looking after Honey is something he admires, she never once complains about being exhausted even though he can tell when she is, she didn’t have to think twice when Harry offered her the job as Honeys nanny, she knew the little one from her being in the office every now and then, and Honey was instantly drawn to her, the way she was so kind and the way she cared for Honey.

Tonight is a hard night for Harry, it’s Myla’s death anniversary and he’s been having a bad day, his mind racing and his heart breaking all over again, but this time he’s stronger, he’s able to power through until he could be alone and just let his emotions go, have a glass of whiskey and just cry a little flipping through old photo albums — he does this every year on her anniversary. Honey is tucked up in bed and he’s sat alone in the den on the sofa, the photo albums on his lap and his hand clutching a small glass of whiskey as he sips on it flipping through many photos from their wedding and from when they were teens and drunk in love in high school — so many memories can be attached to one person, and Harry knew one day they would be memories, but he didn’t know it would be so soon.

“Honey is fast asleep, left her door cracked open so she can shout if she- Harry? Are you okay?” Y/N stops suddenly, her eyes landing on her boss who was hunched over a photo album on the sofa, curtains drawn and the only light coming from a lamp beside a framed wedding photo of him and Myla on the table by the sofa.

“Yeah, thanks for putting her to sleep” Harry says weakly, not turning around which alarms Y/N, she’s seen him like this last year, she let him be as she was only new to it, but this year she’s determined to sit with him all night if he needs — he needs to have some company.

“That’s you?” She asks sitting next to him, Harry not moving or telling her to leave, he accepts her company as she looks down at the photo his eyes are laid upon — two teenagers at a party.

“Yeah, m’hair was a curly mess” he says with a low laugh, looking over the photo of a seventeen year old version of himself, smiling cheekily clutching a red solo cup and Myla wrapped under his other arm holding him around his waist, both their smiles wide and cheeky and their cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol in their bodies.

“I think it looks cute, pitty it’s not as curly now” she says with a light laugh, watching as his ring clad fingers turn the page, taking a sip from his whiskey as he goes.

“This was our prom, she made me wear a pink fucking bow tie — absolutely hated it” he laughs, the crinkles by his eyes evident as Y/N laughs along, looking down at the curly headed teenager in a black suit, white shirt and a bright pink bow tie, matching Myla’s floor length dress next to him, a shawl over her shoulders matching as the corsage around her wrist match the pink of her dress also.

“She hated that dress a year later, she was packing up for college and I was helping her when she found it, immediately burst out laughing” he says laughing loudly, remembering back at the memory he has, Y/N beside him happy at how joyful he sounds speaking of the memories.

“Oh here we go, Frat boy Harry!” Y/N says with a loud laugh, pointing down at a shirtless twenty year old Harry, backwards cap on his head and “Myla’s Bitch!” Wrote on his stomach in paint, two beer bottles in his hands and Myla on his shoulders cheering with her hands up in a red bikini, matching his swimming trunks and baseball cap.

“Some of the best years of m’life, raging parties and no more curfews, we were two hormonal teens absolutely smitten for one another” he says shaking his head with a laugh, his eyes bright as he flicks them over the photos ranging from Harry dancing, Myla being pushed into the pool by him and Harry passed out with a mustache drawn on him with Myla next to him holding the marker with a bright smile mid laughter.

The book is filled with their college days, to their graduation day from college, their photo in their first apartment, Harry on his first day of work and Myla on hers. They took photos of small things, but at the time they meant the world to them, they were milestones in their lives and they never wanted to forget them. Harry is forever grateful that Myla had an obsession with photography, otherwise he wouldn’t have these to look back on and hopefully show Honey one day what her Mum was like, even if she’s drunk and half naked in some of them at college parties.

Harry and Y/N are in fits of laughter, tears falling from their faces as Harry explains every single memory behind each photo, one photo containing a memory of Myla at her bachelorette party, Harry coming out as a stripper and giving her a lap dance as she slaps his ass and throws money all over her husband — that one will definitely not be shown to Honey. Harry is like a whole different person when he speaks about her, his laugh becomes louder and his eyes become brighter, he even ditched his whiskey after one glass to speak about his late wife, Y/N looking at him with pure amazement and proudness of how far he’s come, how he pulled himself from a hard time and carried on life for the sake of his baby girl. He’s truly inspirational in her eyes.

“It should be easier than this by now, right? Like I shouldn’t be still grieving” he says when their laughs and stories come to a stop, their eyes hooded with sleep and faces hurting from laughing.

“What is grief, if not love persevering? You were both childhood sweethearts, you’ve loved her since you can remember and you always will, she’s your whole world, of course you’ll still grieve her, you still love her, and that’s okay” Y/N blurts out, her words quick as she blabs on while Harry watches her, a smile on his face as she explains and accepts his feelings.

“Never knew you were Shakespeare” is all he says, she rolls her eyes laughing, slapping his bicep a little as he shuts the album, tucking it away in the drawer again before turning his focus back onto Y/N beside him.

“Seriously though, never tell yourself you’ve been grieving for too long, it’s okay to grieve and cry yourself to sleep some nights, I get that, I do. You lost a person who made you who you are, but don’t forget, you still have a little one that will need you to be the person who makes her who she is”

Harry thinks she’s amazing, she’s smart and she’s so empathetic towards everyone and anyone. She has a heart of gold and she will never let anyone explain hers or anyone else’s feelings for them, she always allows people to express who they are, heck, one night she brought Harry to a gym after hours, explaining how her brother is a trainer there and he gave her the keys on the condition that she does his laundry for a month, she let Harry rage out and punch the shit out of a punching bag one night because he was so upset. She cheered him on and he was smiling as he was punching towards the end, she helped him release the emotions that built up and would of lead him back down a dark path.

She’s been an Angel sent from above, he knows Myla sent her to him because of how much they’re alike, Harry knows for sure they were sisters in a past life, their kind hearts and understanding natures alike but they have their differences, Myla was very out spoken and loved to party but Y/N is reserved and would rather stay inside with a hot chocolate and her crosswords while watching TV, but that’s another thing that Harry finds fascinating about her, she’s younger than him by eight years, when he was her age he was partying.

“Thank you Y/N, I needed this tonight” he says with a smile, her own smile on her face as she nods leaning over to rub her hand over his in a comforting manner, the pair looking at one another as they soak in their presences.

“It’s getting late, I should go” she says realising it’s nearly midnight, Harry and her need to be in work tomorrow morning and Harry has to wake up to get his little lady ready for school also. He gets a bit saddened when she says this, he secretly wants to hear more of her own college years and her own prom much like he told her earlier.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow” he says with a smile, watching as she gathers up her bag and throws it over her shoulder, car keys now in her hand as she smiles at him once more before heading for the den door. She pauses and looks back at him, his eyes meeting hers as they hold contact for a few seconds before she speaks up.

“See you tomorrow, Harry”

[thebadchoicemachine]

“Vines” aka Human Cries: an intergalactic guide.

@thecatchat @wilboo-soot 

If you’ve ever worked with or fought or interacted with a human there is a high likelihood you’ve witnessed one of their many cries. Whether another human called, they answered a phrase from a machine or report, they called to themselves, or you unknowingly instigated one of them, you were probably confused as all space. 

You see, humans are very social creatures. One of their ways of socializing is by instigating these calls. One might cry out and all- no matter what side they are on or what they are dong- will answer. Most everyone agrees, it’s unnerving. BUT, there is no need to fear! It is simply a cultural habit. In this paper, I will outline some phrases to avoid/recognize and what they mean. 

[list under the cut]

----

1. DON'T FUCK WITH ME (US)

2. I'VE (WE'VE) GOT THE POWER OF GOD AND ANIME ON MY (OUR) SIDE

A war cry. A scream of defiance and strength. It's not quite certain what an anime is yet but those who attempt to study humans, along with humans themselves, assure us it is something to fear.

----

1. [Road] Work head?

2. Uh, yeah I sure hope is does

A prayer for protection. A reminder of skepticism and diligence even when safety appears obvious.  

---

1. [Rebecca] It's not what it looks like!

2. I won't hesitate, bitch.

A more blatant exclamation. Said to convey ruthlessness in the face of perceived betrayal. Often, the beginning is merely implied as only the answering call is said. Unlike other cries, this is not one that necessitates an answer.

---

1. This bitch empty!

2. YEET

A cry of power and physical prowess. Used often with their biological ability to throw with their bare arms. Another where the full mantra is not said and they simply recite the final part. It is used so often it has become a staple of their language, describing something being moved with great force. 

---

1. And they were roommates!

2. Oh my god, they were roommates.

An implication of romance. Something of a fascination to historians. It is believed its origins have no clear implication of such yet its meaning is entirely accepted. 

---

Look at all those [chickens.]

Misidentifying something with juvenile glee or confidence. A single phrase, no completion required. 

---

1. When will you learn? When will you learn

2. THAT YOUR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES? 

Another more blatant example. An insult, a harsh apathy towards your failings, disapproval, embodiment of karma, and a shrill reminder of reason. Notably, the scorn is without smugness and rather contains distress. It is often quoted when they are just as displeased with the consequences as you.

---

1. Two guys chillin' in a hot tub 

2. Five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay.

An implication of romance in dissidence. Often alluded to with forbidden, stigmatized, or in-denial/”blind” lovers. 

---

[T-T-T-T-T-TARGET]

This one is difficult to explain with text as most of its influence comes from the tone of voice used. The word itself varies wildly (”target” is the original). Essentially, if some form of script display is malfunctioning they will enounce it accordingly.  

---

Freshavacado

A similar cry to the last example, but instead of malfunctioning it is employed when something is messily/unclearly written. Generally, they will sound out the jumbled letters three times. First stumbling through the made up pronunciation, next complete in a humorous tone, and finally they will yell it, probably laughing. 

(A reminder, laughter is not a threat. It is a natural sound they emit when humored. Although, human humor can come from many strange, basically any, things.)

---

Back at it again at Krispy Kreme

Another single phrase used to insight reckless, destructive, and joyous, but ultimately not intended to be damaging, performance.  

---

1. [Chris], is that a weed? 

2. No, this is a [crayon]. 

3. I’m calling the police!

A mockery of pointless and contrived justice. 

---

[Mary], is that a police? I’m calling the weed!

A subversion of the previous call, normalization/empowering of a rebellion or outlaw. 

---

[What up?] My name is Jared, I’m 19, and I never fucking learned how to read.

Self deprecation in light. A humored approach of self criticism, lovingly and drastically hyperbolating their failures. Sometimes used as a refusal to do paperwork. 

---

1. Why the fuck you lying? Why you always lying?

2. Mmmm, oh my god, stop fucking lying!

A cheerful but spiteful insult. A brag, an accusation, a bold and brazen declaration of disbelief. In human language they have a word that captures its meaning quite simply. A “Call out.” 

(Note: While in their nature to complete and begin these calls, please remember that it is informal even in their culture and not appropriate for political meetings. Even in, as I’m sure many humans will claim, it is “totally called for.”) 

---

1. What do you have?

2. A [KNIFE!]

3. NO!

Authoritative denial of power or the wielding danger. This is one of the few often used with non-humans due to it’s simplistic question-answer structure, aided by the human acceptance of silence as an answer.

Don’t worry about it starting any serious conflict though! This is used mainly for beings it is accepted to be controlling over such as children, “pets,” and (for some reason) cleaning droids. Even when the human is often the one who bestowed the dangerous item to the droid in the first place... and it never answers... because it is a vacuum with wheels... 

++++++

This ends the summary of what you’ll be most likely to encounter. There are hundreds more, of course, but they’re generally self-contained or obscure and not so far reaching across humanity. That being said, there are other things you should be aware of. 

While the ones listed are all generally harmless, there are curses among humanity that are incredibly offensive. If there are any humans reading this I suggest you stop now for your own safety. 

++++++

It is best to avoid: 

Referring to losing an unnamed game. 

- While you probably are not discussing the specific Game it may inadvertently allude to it and seriously upset nearby humans. 

- They have spent centuries attempting to wipe It from their collective consciousness, It is best left unspoken and unthought of. 

Using a set of symbols resembling lines split in quadrants. 

- Especially in the order of one tall line, a tall line and a short line, two tall lines, and a tall line with a horizontal line.  

- It is a curse. A foreboding message of pain and misfortune, so much so they simply refer to it as “Loss.”

BE CAUTIOUS of the Rolling Tricktster  

- He is an ancient human deity of deceit and guile. His song perpetuates the galaxy, he is used as an insult, a game, a lie. 

- Those who use his image practice the art of luring and betrayal. They are sirens of misinformation and false promises. 

- Your human companions may be one of them but this does not grant them immunity. You also will not be safe, be alert and be cautious, lest you fall the the old god Astley as well. 

[yuzukult]

acquitted love || sjn & reader

title: acquitted love pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: fluff, angst, co-workers!au, lawyer!au, one-sided enemies to lovers word count: 8.7k warnings: some language/cursing, brief mentions of sex but there's no actual discussions or explicit conversations of the topic, but generally pg-13 prompt: you absolutely hate johnny suh. but when your boss pairs you two up together for one of the highest profile cases, you’re left working close with your enemy but he doesn’t seem to think that way of you. a/n: tada!! i wrote this for the @/ficscafe fic exchange event!! so @urlocalnctstan​ , hope you enjoy this !! i tried to write it according to what you put as your preferences, but honestly T_T it was so hard bc i was just not getting any ideas!! hopefully this is something you’d like :D enjoy !!

“God, isn’t he just… so attractive?”

Along with a click on your tongue, you feign a hit in Hyeri’s direction, whose reflexes have gotten so much faster in the past couple years of knowing you and it shows when she cowers underneath your arm. She gifts you that not-so-apologetic smile, full of mischievousness because she knows no matter how annoying she can be, you’ll still love her nonetheless.

“Why do you keep talking about Johnny? You know he’s banned as a topic of our conversations.”

Hyeri rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her white frilled blouse. You know that she doesn’t actually inhabit any romantic feelings for Johnny, but she has a problem of thinking without the usage of her brain when she sees a hot guy.

Not that you think Johnny is hot.

No.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s at least an ounce of smokin’ hot.” She’s unraveled her arms by now, poking your shoulder incessantly to grasp onto your attention as you're tapping on the buttons of the copier machine. “I bet if you asked him out, he’d say yes.”

You briefly glare at Hyeri. “You realize that he and I don’t get along, right? He keeps finding stupid loopholes in the system to win his cases. He thinks with his heart, not his head, and sometimes, with whatever that thing was in his pants.” And, not to mention that he walks out the court with that big grin stretched from cheek to cheek, giving the ‘good news’ to your well-respected boss (who you desperately seek the approval of but that’s a different story for another time). And every single time, she gives him that nod of appreciation, that ‘nod of approval’ if you will, when it should be given to you and not to some asshole who fucks his way to victory.

“But he’s so hot—”

You narrow your eyes at your friend, and with a stern voice, you call out, “Hyeri.”

She shrugs. “Honestly, though, he’s hella smart. He’s got a job here, and works under your boss. It’s Park, Kim & Associates—notice how Park is first, because she’s a fucking genius. She only picks the intelligent ones to work under her. Why do you think I’m still working for Mr. Kim?”

Park Seohyun and Kim Gonghyun—one of the biggest lawyers in the region, decided to join together to build their own law firm from the ground up. They were both highly respected in their field; Kim Gonghyun spent years of his life being mentored by one of the most famous judges, and as for Park Seohyun, she was, simply put, admirable because of the obstacles she has overcome to make her dreams of working in law to be real. Being a woman, young, and beautiful, she’s had her fair share of encounters with people who disregard her potential, that is until she met Gonghyun—who, admittingly is an old man who seems like he’d be traditional, sexist, even, but he proves to also make people realize how wrong they are with their impression of him.

But, as Mr. Kim is getting older, he’s gotten a bit… lazy.

In fact, he’s been slacking so much that he’s gotten a new rep in the office—if he was your direct supervisor, or your supervisor was under him, you were on the side of the office where all the easier, uncomplicated cases were assigned. Which meant that there was a slight possibility that your talents and skills weren’t as sharp and exceptional as you thought they were.

And well, Hyeri works directly underneath Mr. Kim.

Hyeri doesn’t want a heavy workload, despite the fact that there’s a plethora of files on her desk, stacked up one onto another as tall as her PC tower, and they were all open and closed cases—needless to say that she didn’t mind it.

“Okay, but you got offered a position under Seohyun. Do you really think you’re not wasting your potential?”

Hyeri scoffs. “Never. At least, not now. I’m still in my twenties, I’d like to enjoy my youth while I can, for your information.”

You quirk a brow. “And does any of that pertain fucking Johnny? The hot guy, so you claim?”

She immediately has her hand covering your mouth and you scowl. “Shhhhh, he works here!”

You bite the flesh of her hand and Hyeri instantly retracts. “You think I don’t know my archenemy works here? He sits directly across from my office—I get the best view of the guy and I’m not even one of his fangirls.”

“You’re not gonna be one of those girls who claim they’re different because they don’t like him but then end up falling for him anyway… are you?”

Your hand goes up and Hyeri crouches down.

“Stop it.”

“Seriously though! It’s the classic e2l love story,” she has her hands gesturing in front of her like she’s making an imaginary rainbow, “Two lawyers, constantly butting heads, accept each other’s differences and learn to love—“

“The fuck is an ‘e2l’?”

“Enemies to lovers.”

“Are you high? Stop spitting nonsense.” This time, you’re waving the stack of papers that finish printing in front of her face. “Meet me for lunch later. But if you keep talking about my archenemy and I falling in love, you can kiss a free meal goodbye.”

Hyeri gasps.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Maybe. Just maybe, Hyeri might be a tiny smidge right when she says Johnny is handsome. Just a bit though, because she can’t get credit for something like that.

He’s dyed his hair this shade of brunette that sort of reminds you of roasted chestnuts on a cold, winter day, sitting inside of a cooker outside of your childhood home, baking along with some sweet potatoes your mom had gotten from a farmer’s market nearby. Johnny has this focused gaze attached to the screen of his monitor; there’s a dip in the fronts of his brows, lips tightened into a straight line, and constant switching back and forth from the computer while taking notes down in a book that’s laid open in front of him.

You wonder what’s running through his mind, or well, you’re more interested in what files he has sprawled out on top of his desk.

Truthfully, if it hadn’t been obvious enough, you weren’t quite a fan of Johnny Suh and it’s mostly due to his work ethic. He’d been notorious for his reputation of sleeping around—especially with the opposing side—so it’s hard to convince yourself that he didn’t win the case because of his actual capabilities, but it’s because he pulled some strings.

And Johnny doesn’t put much effort into denying it either.

Albeit deep down, you were a teeny bit envious of his confidence. He struts around the courtroom with ease, and when he presents his position, there’s no staggering in his voice—it’s always crisp and clean, weighted with nothing but credence, and never straying from his initial perspective. It’s never a lack of poise, it’s consistently the look he goes for; from the hand gestures and the furrowed brows, to the rhetorical questions in the end of certain statements that has the speculators and jury sitting at the edge of their seat, Johnny had a talent for performing in the courtroom, but that doesn’t mean anything when the way he gets to the success isn’t ethical.

Just at that moment, his eyes lift from the screen and meet yours.

There isn’t any hesitation when you scramble to grab the remote controller, and the shades drop over the windows instantaneously.

“Fuck,” you mutter underneath your breath, tossing the remote onto your desk and shaking your hands after. What if he thought you were admiring him? Maybe he didn’t see. Yeah. It was for a brief second, and with how close your offices were to each other, it would be common to accidentally lock eyes… right?

Interrupting your thoughts, the office phone rings and it nearly startles the living soul out of you. But before you reach for it, your head tilts to the side curiously because the extension number is familiar—it’s Park Seohyun’s, your boss.

What could she be calling for?

You don’t remember fucking something up—but to be fair, half the times, you never really know if you’ve actually fucked up until someone with steaming ears and a crimson face comes storming in. So… did you do something good? Again, you don’t think that’s right either, because other people would’ve made comments about it.

Deciding to swallow your nerves, you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Seohyun never fails to be bubbly, and you could never mimic her energy. You definitely had to be born with that kind of enthusiasm. “I have a favor. Hop into my office.”

Leaned back in her leather swivel chair, she had her fingers laced with each other while resting over her stomach. Johnny stands beside you (and you do your best to not look directly at him, especially after that weird staring thing), and you both feel like kids being lectured by parents from how still you are. Her office is huge, probably the size of both yours and Johnny’s combined; with ceiling to floor windows, cases of books that line the perimeter, not to mention the humongous ass couch that practically covers the other half of the room, and her desk was so wide, you estimate about four monitors would fit on there with still additional space for work. That wasn’t even the best part—the view of the city looks almost like a generic lockscreen of a Windows computer, and you’re not even sure why she goes home at night when she basically has a penthouse here.

“As you know, I have a favor.”

“Right,” Johnny retorts, mostly as a filler in the awkward silence. “So… what’s the favor?”

She pulls a box from her purse; square, black and made from a leather material with a lock pad stitched into it, something you’ve never seen before, and she slides the passcode in, then it pops the lid open. A key (a… very small one) sits in the velvety cushion, with nothing else occupying the space with it, and it looks comical. She uses this to open the very top drawer of her desk, and as she pulls using the handle, there’s another box inside, but this time, metal instead of leather, but still black.

What the fuck?

It seems Johnny shares the same thoughts, because he sneaks a glance over at you.

“You see,” Seohyun begins, pressing on the digital keys of the box until there’s a beep at the end and the case hisses open. “There’s a lot of security for this. Which means you understand the importance of it.”

Then, she picks up four manila envelopes and lies on the surface of her wooden top desk. “I have a family emergency to attend to this upcoming week. I’m boarding a flight tonight. So I’m leaving the Hwang v. Yoon case to the two of you.”

“Fuck—”

“The what?”

You and Johnny are sputtering out of shock. The Hwang v. Yoon case is the biggest case that the firm is involved in currently, and the only people involved in it have been Seohyun and Gonghyun. It’s been on every social media platform you could think of; from Facebook to Twitter, TikTok to Instagram—there’s even this weird website for emo/grunge teens or strange kids that like writing fanfic called Tumblr, and whatever that is, it’s discussed on there too.

“What about Gonghyun?”

Seohyun scoffs, closing the drawer and dropping the key back into her special box. Where do you even get a box like that? “He can’t handle this alone. So I’m kicking him off until I come back. I thought about letting the two of you work with him, but his ego is so inflated, it’ll get in the way of our chances of winning. It’s easier if it was just me and him, but seeing that things at home aren’t well, I’m going to need you two to step up to the plate.”

The room goes quiet. The only sounds you hear are the muffled noises of a typical bustling office outside the thick walls of Seohyun’s office, and at first, excitement rushes through your blood because Seohyun thought of you taking over a special, high profile case.

Albeit, another realization gets soaked up, and it’s that Johnny also came to mind, and that because it’s such an important case, the two of you would be… working… many… hours… together.

Maybe you should back out of it—but then again, this is such a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Imagine winning this— it wouldn’t be good for just the law firm, it’d be good for you too. Your name, in articles on these big fancy news websites, perhaps even on new channels, talking about how you, this amazing lawyer, won the Hwang v. Yoon case.

But then you’re snapped back into reality when Johnny leans over to take the envelopes from Seohyun.

If your name is on those platforms, so is Johnny’s.

God, this guy just ruins everything, doesn’t he?

“We’ll take care of it, Seohyun. You can trust us,” he says assuringly, a smile tugging on each corner of his lips with that dazzling gaze. “We’ll be at our best.”

Kiss ass.

If you had the option, you wouldn’t be spending your Saturday night here at work, in one of those conference rooms with a long table in the middle, a big projector that displays on the wall, and a random black leather loveseat couch that lines the one corner in case there’s too many occupants.

Especially since the person who’s accompanying you is Johnny Suh.

There’s probably a lot of people who would kill to be in your position (Hyeri being one of them), but you dread it. Not to be that person, but what’s so special about him anyway? What? He’s tall, has some muscles, long luscious hair that he can slick back with that sultry stare—wait, what?

“Alright, moving on…” From what? You guys just started? It’d been clear with Seohyun that the mornings would be dedicated to other cases, but nights would be considered overtime and where you’d zoom in your focus on Ms. Hwang’s justice. “Let’s take a look at the facts here.”

Johnny slips off his blazer, hanging it on the back of one of the chairs as you’re seated in another, leaning back comfortably with an arm resting on the table. He loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt before folding up the sleeves, and that’s when you notice a little thing in the inner crook of his elbow—is that a fucking sunflower? Is that what he uses to reel girls in? That he’s soft enough to have a pretty little flower etched onto his gentle, silky and supple—

“Okay,” he says, interjecting into your thoughts with a laser pointer in his hand. He taps on the space bar of his laptop that mirrors what’s on his screen, but then, that’s when you realize what’s on the slides.

There’s a collage of pictures, mostly street, casually walking themed ones, but the common factor was that they were of Yoon Changmin, the man you guys were up against. They were all paparazzi-like photos, which begs the question, how did he get pics like this, and why did he get them?

“What’s the point of this?” you ask, voice laced with nothing but suspicion.

“We gotta get into the mind of the enemy.” You wanna get into the mind of your enemy, too.

You gesture to the one image of Changmin with an arm around his girlfriend and a finger up his nose. “Seems like he’s trying to reach inside of his head instead of us. These are just everyday pictures, Johnny. What’s that going to do for us?”

“Well,” he begins, turning to look at the wall of ‘evidence’. “You see—wait, holy shit.”

Freezing in the midst of reaching for your coffee, your head jolts in the direction of your partner. “What? What is it?”

“Holy shit,” he exclaims, “Hoooooooooly shit. Why didn’t I see this before? This changes everything.”

Furrowing your brows, you’ve given up getting your drink and dropped your hands onto the table. “Tell me, what is it?”

“This is a game changer.”

“Johnny,” you call out sternly, and his eyes link with yours before he instantly points to a particular picture with his red laser pointer.

“Look at that.” There’s pride saturated in his words, but when you look at what he’s indicating, your body slouches in disappointment.

Why the hell was he directing your attention onto Changmin’s thighs? Surely, there’s no denying that they were attractive—you recall that his alibi was at the gym that very night of the crime.

“What? He’s guilty for showing off his toothpick legs?” They were lean, you never said they were muscular.

“No,” he retorts, slightly irritated by your response as he rolls his eyes. “Look at his pants.”

“Okay…”

“They’re jean shorts.”

There’s a pregnant pause, but the expression on your face is so loud it can’t be hidden.

Johnny continues, “That’s a fashion crime.” He says it as if it’s an obvious fact known by many. “Not to mention that it’s fucking raw hem. He should be arrested.”

Suddenly, your opinion of him thinking too much with his heart dissipates because it seems like he’s thinking out of his ass instead. Did he win those cases out of pity? How did this guy even pass the bar? How about law school? How the hell did he even get into law school?

“I don’t think—”

“Listen, alright, just hear me out,” he’s got the palms of his hands resting flat on the surface of the table, doing his best to gain your full undivided attention. “Only assholes wear jean shorts. They flaunt that shit around like they own the place, but they’re horrendous pieces of clothing that should not be on a male’s body. I don’t care what you say, what your opinion is, because that is a fact.”

Puffing your cheeks, you feel at a loss. If Johnny is who you had to get this done, it feels like you’re not going to be finding much evidence any time soon.

“Okay, if… if that’s how you want to play it, then show me the evidence—other than those 2012 cut off denim shorts.”

He reaches over to hit his space bar again, then with a wink and a slide change, he leans closer to you and says with that deep, honeyed voice, “Gladly.”

You hate admitting when you’re wrong.

Ironically, you concede and will confess when you actually are, but it doesn’t mean that you enjoy it. For example, when Hyeri claims that the intern Mark had a crush on you, you quickly waved her off, stating something along the lines of, “I’m too intimidating; there’s better chances of him being scared of me than ever finding me attractive.” And then a week later, you owed Hyeri free lunch at that hip ramen place downtown because Mark had approached your desk that very morning with a bouquet of red roses flowers for you, a cheeky grin glued to his face with pools of hearts in his eyes, and ready to ask you on a date because it was the day after his internship had ended. Naturally, it wasn’t fun rejecting that poor college boy.

But, you won’t say you find Johnny interesting or handsome. Or that there’s potential when it came to possibly (just barely the slightest smidge) that you’d ever consider asking Johnny out. He’s your enemy here, you’ve mentioned that a multitude of times, and you stand firm on that very declaration, despite the fact that sometimes when he gets too close, your breath gets caught in your throat and you feel like you can’t get whatever’s lodged in out.

Albeit it’s not the whole “you guys are gonna end up together” comment that Hyeri makes and resulting in you denying it afterwards, it’s that Johnny might… be a decent lawyer.

He’s not the best one you’ve seen; the stupid revelation he had on the first day working on the case about the jean shorts is evidence for it, but it’s the days following that were slowly changing your perspective on him.

When you said, “He thinks too much with his heart more than with his head,” it was 100% correct.

When meeting with potential witnesses, you recognized that Johnny empathizes with people often; when they cry and start panicking from being overwhelmed, he's quick on his feet to put an arm around them, share reassuring words, and have them back to normal in record’s time.

And, well… you? You’re the one making them cry in the first place.

You don’t want to fully take the blame for being the cause of their tears, but people need to hear what’s happening, and the very detail that they can’t even handle this information probably means they’re not worthwhile as a key witness.

Johnny, of course, thinks otherwise.

He believes that these people should have a voice (although you’ve alluded that they might be more useless than helpful), and putting them on the stand with Yoon Changmin there would change the view of the jury to supporting Hwang Naeri.

“Listen, if we get these people to sign the form, we’d get witnesses and it’ll help Naeri,” Johnny claims, frantically moving his arms annoyingly as he talks, trying his best to express the gravity of the situation, “and maybe, maybe, money wouldn’t be how Changmin wins, but how he loses. We can’t have another person with jean shorts walking on the streets of our city like this—they deserve to go to prison.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Why does this always revert back to the jean shorts?”

“It always has to do with jean shorts,” he snaps back matter-of-factly. “Any straight guy wearing jean shorts with that much goddamn confidence has done some wrong in their lives.”

“Right, but I’m pretty sure that the crimes he did are mainly the reason why he’s being prosecuted against.”

“Jean shorts are the windows to the soul.”

“I’m almost 100% sure that eyes are the windows to the soul, but whatever. If you genuinely believe that the women we met today would benefit our case, then… okay. Let’s bring them to the stand.”

On the contrary to you, Johnny doesn’t have a hard time convincing witnesses to testify. You see the way that he works; those kind eyes directed at the participants, the pools of chocolate were sweet, saturated in nothing but tenderness and warmth, then he does that weird thing where he reaches for their hands and cups them before the words that escapes from his lips are enough to swoon them to stand in front of a courtroom.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s a method to his so-called madness.

Aggression and bluntness don’t work, it seems, because when you’re the one attempting to convince these people to go against the man that had done them wrong, they’re less willing to do it. Something about ‘moving on,’ and ‘not wanting to relive those memories again,’ but if it was you, you’d want justice. Then again, not everyone is like you, and not everyone thinks like you, and spending this abundance of time with Johnny is slowly getting you to ease into that perspective.

So… the initial impression you had of him may have been wrong.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re developing some feelings for him, just as Hyeri predicted.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

His abrupt personal question is enough to have the coffee spill into your mouth to slide down the ‘wrong throat’ because you’re choking, hand on your chest as you’re tackling to regain your breath again and Johnny only stares in disbelief, blinking blankly. “Are… are you okay?”

You glare at him through a hooded gaze. “Well,” you clear your throat once more. “Now, I am.”

“Cool.” He nods, retracting his hand so he could rub your back soothingly, deciding it’s best to stay away. “Are you going to answer my question?”

Quirking a brow, your head tilts slightly in puzzlement. “Why are you asking this?”

Johnny shrugs. “Isn’t it weird that we’ve hung out with each other for a whole week—stayed here for nights and we both don’t know anything about each other?”

Tapping your fingers against the wooden top table, you sigh. Maybe he’s got a point; after all, “Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer,” right?

“No, I’m single.”

Johnny’s face suddenly brightens, ears perked, and his body straightens its posture in his seat at this revelation. “Oh, uh, I didn’t know that. You seemed busy in your personal life, so I, uh… was just wondering.” He looked anxious, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. “I, um, I’m single too, by the way, in case you’re wondering.” You weren’t.

The plethora of cardboard and plastic boxes scattered across the table was a representation of the night. It’s been long, exhausting, and messy, mostly because it’s a Friday night, the hearing was on Monday, and the two of you were nowhere near close to having enough to present to the court. In fear of disappointing Seohyun, the two of you agreed to stay over the office for the weekend to cram work for the case. There’s no denying that the atmosphere is weirder on the weekends, especially since, well, no one really comes here on the weekends. Johnny had to use the bathroom earlier and ran into the cleaning lady and she nearly shit her pants because she didn’t think anyone was here, so she had music blasting in her headphones.

Johnny is… interesting. He makes you laugh—or well, want to laugh, but you don’t give him that sense of satisfaction—and he’s smart but in his own weird way. He’s not like the other lawyers you’ve met, or any of the law students you attended University with because he’s more lighthearted and free-spirited than the rest, taking life in strides instead of just overwhelming himself in the abundance of stress that work brings.

He’s entirely the opposite of you.

And maybe you could learn something from the guy, but there’s something in you that brews hatred toward him. Possibility that you resent how easy he makes being a lawyer seem when you’re struggling in your day-to-day life to make things work.

But it’s way too fucking hard when he’s just… like that.

Despite all of that, he’s very generous and kind toward you. On rough days, he delivers your coffee order, the one you always get because he remembers what you asked the intern to get for you the last time, and he’s good at identifying when you’re just having that kind of day. You eventually learn he has a photographic memory (fucking show off), so when he saw that crumpled napkin with scribbles of what you want in that dumb intern’s hand, it wasn’t hard to remember. Which, by the way, is how he’s able to get into the most prestigious school for undergrad, manage to pass the bar so easily, and get into law school effortlessly.

And knowing this information sort of angers you more.

You know this isn’t his fault—he’s been blessed with a trait that people desire, one that you also yearn for, but the lucky ones get handed a lot of things in life. You wonder if he’s the type of guy who wins girls easily after matching with them on dating sites because of this stupid ass ‘photographic memory.’ Does he sleep with them right after? Does it ever get serious?

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. You shouldn’t even let these strange thoughts haunt you, especially when you don’t even like him.

He’s a spoiled brat who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.

So you’re left counting the remaining days until the trial so you don’t ever have to work with Johnny Suh this closely again.

Okay, well, it’s evident that bad luck is glued to your side because after you win the Hwang v. Yoon case for your law firm with that asshole, Seohyun is so impressed. So goddamn impressed that she insists that all the high profile cases are to be given to both you and Johnny.

To work as a team.

Together.

Jesus, this is Hell for you.

Surely, the promotion and raise that came along with it was definitely a plus, but it has you wondering if it’s even worth it. He’s been your unspoken enemy since the first day, and although you think you’re pretty forthright about your hatred for this guy, he can’t seem to read social cues.

When you’re pushing the double doors into the conference room the two of you often spend working on cases in, you expect Johnny to be ready for another day. But strangely enough, Johnny doesn’t have his laptop out or any of the notebooks sprawled across the table.

“Um,” you slide the strap of your bag off your shoulder and onto the spare chair. “Did you come late or something?”

He takes in a deep breath like he’s been holding back something. “We need to talk.”

There’s worry inscribed into his features; from the crease in between his brows, to his pursed lips, and eyes soaked in concern, almost like he’s got bad news to share and it has your stomach in knots. Was it that the case was thrown out? It couldn’t be, right? You both worked hard, presented your stance to the point that the jury and the judge were in awe with your findings. Sure, you had to cover Johnny’s mouth right before he was about to go off in a tangent about jean shorts, but overall, it was a good win, a hard one to go back on and pull out the wrongs of it. So what was it?

“I’m quitting our partnership.”

You blink. “What?”

He gestures to the room with his hands as if there’s anything out to reference. “This thing. Our work. The big profile cases. The famous stuff. I told Seohyun that I won’t be doing it anymore and she can revoke the promotion and the raise.”

You’re still not catching on. “… Why?” Was it something you did? Yeah, you weren’t a big fan of Johnny either, but were you so bad that he decided to not go through with the raise because of you?

“Because,” he pushes his blazer back, hands sliding into the front pockets of his navy blue trousers. “There’s a policy put into place. Those who are on the same cases cannot have any personal relations with each other that extend past friendships.”

“We’re not even friends?” With confusion written across your face, your head tilts to the side. “I’m not… I’m not catching on here.”

“I like you.”

Startled, the words you want to say are stolen out of your mouth. You’re left with a mixture of perturbation and bewilderment, uncertain where to go from there because Johnny asked for the removal of both a promotion and additional money that could be so good for his career… and it’s all because he has a crush on you?

“You quit the best thing that could’ve happened to you because you like me?”

“Yeah,” Johnny states calmly, sucking in his cheeks for a brief moment. “Ain’t that romantic?”

You scoff. “No. Absolutely not. You’re insane! Why would you do yourself dirty like that? Use your head, Johnny, you’re constantly thinking with that stupid heart of yours, and hate to break it to you, but it won’t get you anywhere.” Combing your hair with your fingers, you let out a sigh. “Go ask Seohyun for the position back. Say you made a mistake and—”

“I’m not asking her for the position back.”

Johnny doesn’t make any sense to you. “What? Why wouldn’t you do that?

“Because,” he laughs in disbelief, not because he thinks you’re funny. “I’m not going to force myself to work with a girl that I keep falling for. That’s self-inflicting, you realize that, right? You’re amazing, but you can seriously be so dense sometimes.”

“I’m dense? You just told one of the best law firms in the city that you don’t want to work on the important cases anymore because you have a stupid crush on your partner!”

“If we were on a team with more people, maybe it’d be different. But it’s just us two. You think I won’t fall any harder? That’s not easy. Every time I see you working, I swear I could be hopelessly in love with you one day.”

Your heart stops for a second.

This is Johnny Suh you were talking about here. One of the claimed best lawyers in your office, one of the most intelligent people that Hyeri has ever met, and Seohyun evidently backs this up because she’s given him so much recognition for his work. He’s the guy who worked with you to win the Hwang v. Yoon case, he’s the one who brought up the stupid jean shorts that seemed so far-fetched at the time, but they were a crucial detail everyone missed—it so happened that when Changmin bought those dumb shorts, there was evidence of at least one of his crimes in that store from the security cameras.

Any cis-gendered male who wears jean shorts can’t be trusted, according to Johnny.

And candidly speaking? You couldn’t even deny that. Your past two ex-boyfriends both wore jean shorts and the one cheated on you and the other one was caught money laundering.

“Listen,” he begins, interrupting your foggy thoughts. “I’m not asking you to tell me you like me back. I’m telling you because you should know, and that I can’t go on any further without letting you know. I’ll, uh, be in my office. Seohyun said she’d find a replacement for me.”

Hyeri is his replacement.

She’s great company and does a good job of helping you with whatever you need, but that was just it. Hyeri followed you, she never led with you, just as Johnny does. Agreeing with everything you say, mindlessly trailing behind everything you do—Hyeri was smart, but she couldn’t figure out how to think for herself when it came to these bigger cases because she’s never been given such a responsibility. But you couldn’t even blame her because it’s what she was told to do under Gonghyun.

“You said that you think Maeri snatched the bracelet?”

“No, I said if you watched the security video that the jewelry store submitted, it clearly shows that Maeri snatched the bracelet. Not that I ‘think.’ The proof is right there, Hyeri.”

She nods, resuming back to her work on the computer. Truthfully, Hyeri felt more like an assistant than a co-worker, someone to bounce ideas off of and to see from a different perspective. And as much as you hated Johnny, he had decent points. He had ways of making you put yourself into the shoes of people you never thought you were; although the guy was obnoxious, at least he actually was… good at his job.

Deciding you can’t take it anymore when Hyeri asks for the tenth time that hour about your beliefs rather than her own, you abruptly stand from your seat.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” you reply shortly. “I’ll be back.”

It was just a spontaneous thought. It’s after hours, and although there are some people who stay behind to get some work done, you had your doubts that Johnny would still be here. He seems to have a better grip on that work/life balance thing people talked about (unlike yourself), but it didn’t hurt to check his office, right?

It’s a good thing you went with it. Because right across from yours, there’s Johnny.

There’s one single lamp that shines over the tabletop of his desk, and the other sources of light in his office are from his computer screen and the ones from the city skyline from behind him. It has him seemingly angelic like this, so serene, calm, and collected, only focused on what’s laid out in front of him. The sun has gone down, people have gone home, but Johnny remains, hardworking as always, despite your previous observations that he’s a lazy, unprofessional guy who gets everything handed down to him.

With a knock on his glass door, he flinches, head raising up and eyes meeting yours.

Were his eyes always this sparkly?

Opening the door, Johnny drops the pen in his hand and crosses his arms before leaning back in his seat. “What’s up?”

“You’re here late,” you state the obvious, and Johnny only nods in return, without a rebuttal in sight. “You aren’t normally here late. At least, before the Hwang v. Yoon case.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But Seohyun dropped something on my desk this morning. Wanted to work on it. What brings you here?”

Inhaling in a deep breath of courage, your hands bundle up into a fist by your side. “Please come back.”

Johnny raises a brow. “What?”

“Come back,” you reiterate, this time, it’s less tense and releases with ease. Caving in isn’t usually this effortless to you, but something about Johnny makes you feel… comfortable enough.“Come back and work with me again. Yes, I’m not supportive of how you do things—”

“Then let’s go out on a date.”

You freeze. Legs rooted into the floors of Johnny’s office, you’re left immobile and diffident on how to react next. It wasn’t what you were expecting, although you weren’t quite sure what you were hoping to anticipate, but it most definitely was not this.

“I—”

“I said my terms,” he retorts, shutting the book in front of him before shuffling up from his seat. He’s leaving, you realize, and Johnny’s ready to head home for the night and you’re not sure if you could handle an entire weekend with Hyeri here. “And, I meant what I said. One date, and if it really doesn’t work out, I’ll stay on the case.”

Chewing on your bottom lip anxiously, the next words that come out are out of character for you. “And… what if it does?”

A soft smile tugs from each corner of his mouth. “Then we’ll figure it out from there. Promise.”

This is… awkward. It shouldn’t be, but yet somehow, it remains awkward.

You’ve spent weeks with Johnny before, and those moments were in a room, in the middle of the night, and alone. Hours and hours were dedicated to work, yes, but it was just the two of you and nobody else.

So why is it so weird being in a five Michelin star restaurant with him?

Maybe it’s the atmosphere. The dim lights, the white clothed tables in lieu of the scratched up wooden one back at the law firm, and instead of leather seats, there’s a neutral beige chaise cushion for the dining chair, slightly less comfortable because it doesn’t recline like the one in your office. Instead of an array of photos and evidence disseminated in front of you, there’s a laminated menu with a multitude of options of what to have for dinner.

Johnny gets the steak with mashed potatoes and string beans, and you order something similar but seared salmon for the main protein. The waitress offers wine, babbling on about the age of the red, where the vineyard is located, and the dryness to sweetness—to be honest, you could care less; you’d rather have gin and sprite with a squirt of lime. A couple glasses of that and you can almost guarantee that the night would end with a deep slumber.

Oddly enough, Johnny seems nervous. Ever since he pulled up in his midnight black Audi in front of your apartment complex, he’s been acting strange. He keeps wiping his sweaty palms off the material of his trousers, occasionally swiping off the droplets that fall on the side of his face.

“Are you… okay?” you suddenly ask, adjusting your dress in your seat. Deciding to go with a black silk dress with a slit up the leg and your hair let down, it’s not a look you often sport but since you’re going on a date (one you haven’t been on in quite some time), you figured it would be nice to at least play the part.

“I’m, uh, honestly, I’ve never really asked a girl out before.”

You quirk a brow curiously. “What? You’re telling me you never asked a girl out before?”

He lets out a bashful laugh with a faint nod, making an attempt to swallow his nerves after. “Honestly, I’ve always been asked out and not the other way around. Not to sound like that guy, but I never really had to put effort into trying for girls. They kind of just…”

“—Throw themselves at you?”

He beams. “Yeah! Like that. I don’t really know how to react half the time, but it makes the whole dating scene a little bit easier.” Geez, he called you dense, but he’s over here acting clueless.

Either way, it feels like whatever opinion you had about Johnny remained true. He never had to try when it came to the dating scene, and you could only imagine what that means for work and the relationships he has with the women in your career field.

“Mm, does that usually happen with work too?”

Befuddled, Johnny leans back in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”

With a shrug of your shoulders, you’re poking the meat of your salmon that falls off easily. After the first initial bite, the fish practically melts on impact when it touches the tip of your tongue, smooth like butter and bursting with flavor that couldn’t be described by any common person because it wouldn’t do the salmon justice. Johnny seemed to put a lot into this date, and you’re left pondering what the point of this was. Did he actually like you, or was he trying to get into your head? “Just seems like you get a lot of special treatment.”

“Are you jealous?”

“In what way?” you snap back.

“Are you jealous of me because I’m getting this so-called special treatment that you think I’ve always had, or were you jealous of the girls that seemingly got my attention?”

You’re left without anything to say.

It was a good observation he made because truthfully, you never saw it like that.

In actuality, you often saw Johnny as your rival. He climbed the ladder in the field with ease, and it wasn’t hard to quickly blame his success on the fact that he was a guy in a male dominated industry, but the fact that there’s a possible interpretation for your hatred may be from these feelings you might’ve been harboring for him this entire time… that can’t be it… right?

“I mean, look at where you are now,” you begin, trying to defend yourself. It can’t be true that the reason you’ve been bitter about Johnny was because of the girls that got his attention, and one of them not being you. “You got a high position from—”

“—From hard work,” Johnny interjects with his brows furrowed. “I didn’t get to where I was because I slept around, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I knew you sort of always hated me, but I’ve always admired you. I like your work ethic, I like your style, even though we’re both on opposite spectrums, I like the way you think and I wanted to know what it was like being partners with you. Getting to be on that case with you showed me more than just who you were as a lawyer, but who you were as a person. I like you, but I’m trying to put my finger on why you hate me so much.”

“So you noticed.” Sucking in your cheeks, your eyes trail elsewhere—from the fork that lays beside your plate, to the glass filled halfway with wine, to the little candle that sits in between the two of you that flickers the way he has your heart when he expresses once more how he feels about you.

“Yeah, of course I noticed. If you like someone, it’s kind to miss details like that about them. So… you really hated me because you thought I slept my way to the top, huh?”

“I mean…” shoulders dropping in exasperation, you run your fingers through your disheveled hair. “All those rumors—”

“Again, they’re just rumors. I worked hard to get here, you know. And I’m kind of offended that you thought of me that way.”

You scoff. “They’re rumors, Johnny, it’s kind of hard to ignore all the office gossip when that’s all you hear. Plus, it wasn’t hard to believe either, with the whole flirtatious act whenever you encounter anyone who’s breathing and has a vagina.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“You need a book for dummies that elaborates on what’s flirting or not, because Johnny Suh, whatever it is you do with your body language in front of that chick who sits by the front door.”

“You mean Siwoo? The pregnant one who’s married to her highschool sweetheart? Also, how do you not know our receptionist’s name?”

You throw your arms into the air. “How am I supposed to know her name?”

He tilts his head to the side, genuinely baffled. “Do you… not talk to anyone outside of Hyeri?”

Your silence answers his question.

“I… honestly, I don’t know if I should be offended or if I should be honored. You think I didn’t earn anything that I have now, you think that everything I have was handed to me. On one hand, it’s flattering that you think my looks and my bedroom skills could do that but at the same time… I’m offended because you think I’m incapable.”

“I never said you were incapable—”

“But you implied it.”

Hands falling onto your lap, it’s your turn to gulp. His words come shooting at you, but you’re without a shield to protect yourself, and with the new experience of working with Johnny, there comes the realization at times that Johnny is a hard worker. There are some things that he says and does that aren’t like the people you’ve encountered, and being put on new cases with Hyeri only proved it. He’s thoughtful in the sense that whenever you’d bring up your stance on something, he challenges you with what the defense might counter.

Johnny makes you want to be better. Not just against him, but to brush off the dust on your skills and enter into the battlefield of a courtroom to showcase them.

“Well, if you’re staying silent, I just want to say that I tried,” the crinkle in between your brows makes another appearance because Johnny is great at leaving you stunned and confused. “I really like you. I love how your head works, and I wanna be with someone like that but I also can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect me.”

Why is it that when you’re in that conference room with him, you’re not afraid and never running out of things to say, but now you’re empty handed?

“I’ll pay for dinner. Grab you an Uber. I honestly thought I could overlook those things, and maybe your perspective for me has changed, but I could see it on your face. It’s the same.”

After that date with Johnny, his life turns back to normal.

Yours? Not so much.

Candidly speaking, part of you missed working with Johnny. You were wrong about him, so wrong, and even when you wanted to apologize at the dinner for what you thought of him, the pride in you was like a vicious plague that blackened your insides, preventing you from ever saying those words.

Oftentimes, you’d still be able to sneak a glimpse of him in his office with that same look on his face—full of concentration and nothing else in his mind other than the task at hand.

The cases you have with Hyeri entail a head like Johnny’s. Someone who could question you, to protest against your stance when there could be flaws in it. It feels like deja vu each time you think about it, each time you open a new case file and Hyeri sits there, perched in that seat beside yours, eyes sparkling with what you have in mind next, instead of what she has going on in hers.

Although you’ve tried convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, what you feel for Johnny is purely professional but when you see him standing by the water cooler with a couple of your coworkers, eyes mimicking the moon crescents in the skies, replicating the ways his lips curl in elation—it was beginning hard to believe that it was all platonic feelings.

So maybe you should be bold for once. Pull off that exterior that displays you as someone who isn’t just independent and assiduous, but someone who’s stubborn and aggressive in getting what they want—and not in a good way.

This time, you’ll show it in a good way.

Or at least, you’ll try.

Johnny is a routine kind-of-guy—he grabs an iced americano every morning at the coffee shop downstairs at the edge of the street, he does his daily 11:00AM drop-by at the water cooler to refill his Hydroflask (which was his prized possession, by the way), and parked in the same exact spot in the parking garage of your building, despite there being an abundance of places he could choose.

That’s why you decide to stand by his car after work that day. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands shaking because it’s your turn to feel anxious. That blazer that once fit so comfortably in the morning suddenly feels tight and hot in the afternoon, and the weather hasn’t even changed. Your bag slung over your shoulder weighs ten times heavier than an hour ago, and you can’t stop your jaw from tightening.

Before your thoughts could spiral off all the possibilities of what the outcome may be when you tell Johnny how you feel, he’s already standing there, feet away from you with that dip in the fronts of his brows that you want to smoothen out the crinkles of with the pad of your thumb.

“Hi,” you greet, faint and peculiarly different from your other approaches. “Um, I just… was waiting for you.”

“Hey,” Johnny says back, the first few buttons of his shirt already unraveled, his blazer hung over his forearm and the sleeves are rolled up. “I see that. What’s up with you?”

“Um,” your leg was jittery, hard to control so you spat everything you had to say out as fast as you could before he could see right through you. “I just wanted to apologize. For everything. You’re admirable, kind, and I wish I inhabited those same characteristics you have. I think professionally, you’ve got great ideas, one that could be implemented into mine and what we did together for that case was just… yeah. We could do something big if we put our heads together.”

Johnny nods in agreement. The relationship between you two work-wise was obvious, he knew that much. “And what about… outside of that?”

“I like you,” you choked, barely getting the words out. “More than just coworkers, um, I guess, more than friends but I’m not really sure since you walked out on our first date,” inhaling in a deep breath of courage, you continue on, “and I don’t know how you feel now after I’m standing before you like this, asking for another chance and that I’m sorry.”

He stares at you blankly, and it leaves you unsure whether or not he accepts your apology. “You know why we ended that date early.”

“Well,” you start again, “can we… start over and try again? I promise I won’t tempt you to end the date early this time.”

And with that, there’s the signature smile that Johnny sports that swoons girls, makes their knees weak, and heart clench but this time… it’s just for you.

“I’d really like that.”