#half that shit probably expired too

[idyllicbby]

the natural hair community 🤝🏾 consumerism

the reason why you think your natural hair is expensive is because your wasting your coin on products that do nothing for you and only buying them bc they use clicky words and use ingredients that are currently going viral on social media

buying a bunch of products to test if it works for you<<<<<going to a curl specialist or doing an online consultation with one and them telling you exactly what you need (ie. if you need a clarifying treatment, a moisturizing treatment, protein treatment, etc.) and directing you towards the properly formulated products that can deliver the results you want

[asscaverns]

Long Time Coming - Daryl Dixon x FEM!reader

Synopsis: Reader and Daryl have been together for a long time, but have never been able to have sex. 3.8k words

minors dni/18+

Warnings: smut, fluff. So much praise! Oral f!receiving. Protected sex (kinda? they use a condom but it's expired bc duh). Daryl cums fast. I've never written smut before, I've never published anything either so go easy on me. Probably OOC Daryl. Not great writing, sorry.

“It’s quiet,” Daryl starts from his position on the couch, one of his legs propped up on the coffee table.

“Yeah, it’s a little unsettling. Even back in the prison there was always growling, or Beth singing, or Carol snoring all night,” you joke lightly mimicking her snores. You plopped down on the couch next to him and leaned into him, making him put an arm around your shoulders. “It feels safe though, yeah? Safest I've felt since the outbreak at least,” you wonder out loud, trying to gauge his feelings of your new home. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he pauses. “Just feels like I'm waiting for the shoe, y'know.” 

“The other shoe?” You ask, laying your hand on his knee, glancing up at him.

“Mhm, waitin’ for the shoe to drop.” 

You hum in understanding. “I think. . .” you trailed off thinking of your next words carefully, “I think, there’s no use in just sittin around and waiting. Maybe we should enjoy what we have, while we have it.” 

He sat up and turns to look at you like you were crazy. “And what? What about when these picket fence bastards decide we’re not good enough, we don’t contribute enough, or whatever the hell other reason they decide is fit enough to throw us to the wolves? We just let them blindside us?” he seemed incredulous. 

“No, honey, of course not. I’m just saying,” you take a deep breath trying to make sure you are clear. “This is maybe our last chance, our only chance, to live a life without running from the dead every damn day. We got used to that, it was, or maybe it still is, our new normal, but this can be too.”

“I understand, sweetheart, I'm just. . .” he trails off. 

“Nervous? On edge?” you finish for him after a moment. 

“You could say that,” he answers, picking up a cup of water off the coffee table, taking a sip, and sitting it back down, then leaning back onto the couch and throwing an arm over your shoulder again. 

“I know. You run for your life, hunker down in empty houses, broke down cars, and caves for lord knows how long. Next thing you know, someone offers you not only a home, but a house? To ourselves? And food, water, walls and defenses, plus people patrolling 24/7? It’s a big change, but this is the safest we’ve been for a while. I just think we should enjoy it while we can. We can stay on edge, sleep with a gun under our pillow or whatever, but we should enjoy what we have while we have it. We can live here for a while, when shit hits the fan we can run, like we always have.” 

“Yeah, I reckon you’re right, y/n,” he admits, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Kinda boring though, innit? This whole ‘american dream’ life.” 

You glanced at him and saw a small smile. “Boring?” you giggle, “I can think of something to entertain us.” You slide your hand from your lap over to his, putting your hand back on his knee and sliding it half way up his thigh. 

“Yeah? What’s that sweetheart?” He questions innocently, but you can see the way his cheeks are redder than earlier, and you can see the way he looks at your lips. 

You jumped up and offered him your hand with a wink, “Come with me and I'll show you.”

“Don’ need to ask me twice,” he jumped to his feet, grabbing your hand and letting you lead him up the stairs and into the bathroom. You open the door with your spare hand and spin around pulling at his shirt and winking at him. 

“Oh I get it, you just want to see me naked, don’ ya?” Daryl teased, pulling his t-shirt off. 

“You know I do, baby,” you flirted, grabbing his naked waist and pulling him closer for a moment, before pushing him away and leaning over to start the water, Daryl taking the opportunity to smack your ass. You giggle and turn around with your finger pointed, ready to scold him jokingly, but he grabs your hips before you can. He yanks you into his chest and kisses you hard, trying to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

“At least let me get in the shower first, you horny bastard!” You laugh at him and pull away, yanking your shirt over your head and pulling your pants down and off. You feel the water to test its temperature and upon deciding it warm enough, you turn around to see him still in his pants. You reach towards his belt and pull on it, “You joining? Or are you gonna stand there and watch?” 

“I’m happy to watch but I’d much rather join,” he responds, watching you step into the warm water. He tugs his belt undone and his pants down while you turn and let the water run over you. 

Truth is, you were a little nervous, you knew what you were initiating. Sure you’d spent most of the apocalypse together, started ‘dating’ not long after arriving at the prison. Though you’d never officially talked labels, it’s been long assumed, by you and the rest of the group, that you were together. So, you’ve been ‘together’ a long time, but despite that you’d never really gone farther than oral or handjobs. If you’d had the time, then you hadn’t had the solitude. If you’d had the solitude, then you hadn’t had the safety. If you’d had the safety, then you hadn’t had the time. It had worked out fine, in the midst of the end of the world, sexual frustration wasn’t your biggest concern, you’d go as far as to say it wasn’t even in the top 15. This was your third night alone in Alexandria, your group had all slept in the same house for a while before gradually settling into your own. 

“It’s been a long time since we’ve done this, huh?” you question, rubbing soap all over your body. You feel his arms wrap around you and pull your back to his chest, you lean your head back to rest on his shoulder. 

“You’re sexier every time,” he whispers, nipping at your ear. His hands grab the fat of your hips and grip it to pull you even closer.

“Really? You don’t think I looked better when we were covered in walker guts and months of filth?” You tease him, pushing away and signaling for him to turn his back to you, and begin to clean his back with a soapy towel. 

“You get prettier every day, Y/N, with or without running water,” he hums out, enjoying the soft scratch of the washcloth on his body. It had taken him a long time to get comfortable being this vulnerable, but years of relying on each other has built a trust unlike any other in his life. He trusts you fully, to see him wholly and unfiltered, who he truly was inside and out. 

 Once you both had been scrubbed you wrap your arms around his neck and push him against the wall. You brush your lips over his, testing the waters first. He grabs your face and spins you around, pressing his lips harshly against yours. You moan into his mouth and pull him closer. His arms wind around your waist when his tongue slips into your mouth, your grasp the hair at the base of his neck tightly in your fingers when you feel his leg slot between yours. 

You grind down on his leg and gasp, throwing your head back against the wall. He takes the opportunity to kiss your jaw, trailing kisses down your neck, sucking little marks on your collar bones. You feel his hand slide from your waist up your torso to grab at your breast and your hands grab at the strong muscles of his back. He kneads your soft breast before rubbing your nipple with his thumb, he places sloppy kisses on the junction of your neck and down your shoulder. You whimper and grind harder on his leg when he pinches your nipple between his fingers, Daryl kisses back up your neck and puts his hands on either side of your face, pulling it to his to kiss it harshly. 

“Please, Daryl, I want you,” you whimper against his lips, he hums into your mouth and slips his tongue into your mouth. “Daryl, please,” you whine as he willfully ignores your begging. 

You keep kissing, clawing at his back with your short nails, just trying to pull him impossibly closer to you, his arms wrap tight around your waist, holding you down on his leg to help you grind harder against his knee. One of his arms abandons your waist to grab a fistful of your wet hair and he lets it tangle around his fingers, while he kisses you even deeper. 

“You ready to get outta here, pretty girl?” He smirks at you. Before waiting for your answer he shuts the water off, grumbling about how you’re just gonna have to take another one later, and slides open the curtain. Daryl steps out and hands you a towel. 

You rush past him into the bedroom, drying off and discarding your towel, then jumping on your shared bed. He walks in a few moments later, dropping the towel he had wrapped around his waist. You whistle at him teasingly, “How on earth did I get so lucky?” 

He chuckles at you and sits on the bed beside your feet, running his hands up your calf, “I think I should be the one asking that, Y/N.” He crawls up to your body, pressing light kisses from your knees to your neck. If it weren’t for the lust in his eyes and the way he looks at you like you were prettiest damn woman he’s ever seen you might feel insecurity creeping in.

Daryl pecks your mouth, leaving you chasing his mouth until kisses back down your stomach, notching himself between your thighs. He peppers kisses all over the inside of your thighs, avoiding the one place you’re needing him the most. He finally caves, running his thumb up your slit, brushing away the soft hair that covers your cunt. 

“You’re the sexiest damn woman I’ve ever seen,” he mutters, not giving you a chance to respond before he dives in, placing one long lick from your hole to your clit. The surprise movement leaves you gasping and squeezing his head between his thighs, which he softly pushes away. He does another long lick before focusing on your clit, alternating between gentle licks and circling it with his tongue. He wraps his lips around it and sucks, smiling when he hears you whimpering above him. He goes back to gentle licks and sucks, Daryl moves farther south until licking at our hole, he looks up at you for approval and instead sees a sight so beautiful he wonders what he did to deserve this. You, your back arched the perfect amount for him to see the soft expanse of your stomach leading to your breasts that were pushed into the air, one hand grasping clumsily at one of them, pulling at your nipple. With the image of you and your salty taste on his tongue he swore he could bust right then and there. 

Daryl pushes his tongue into your hole, the mix of your wetness and his saliva creating a mess of your groin. He fucks his tongue into you, soft and steady. 

It’s so much, his wet tongue sliding in and out of you, his hands gripping your thighs, his nose nudging your clit every now and then. It was too much and not enough. You gasp out, “Oh, my god, Daryl,” between your moans and heavy breathing. “D, you feel so good, I need more, please.” 

He moves one hand from your thigh up to your mouth, pulling away to whisper, “suck on my fingers, baby.” You oblige, leaning forward eagerly to pull his thick fingers into your mouth and moan around them when he uses his other hand to squeeze your thigh. He fucks his fingers in and out of your mouth, coming up to press his mouth to yours, his tongue mingles with yours around his fingers. He pulls his fingers out and drops them to your cunt, using them to circle your clit, then sliding one inside of you, swallowing your gasps and moans in your shared kiss. He works his second finger into your pussy and abandons your lips to kiss down your chest, stopping to suck a nipple into his mouth briefly, but then continuing all the way back to your clit. Your hands grasp at his hair and push his face into your cunt, his tongue going back to playing with your clit while his eyes flicker up to see yours squeezed shut and mouth hanging open in ecstasy. Your hands wind in his hair so you have something to hold on to, his tongue and fingers making your head swim. He could ask you anything right now and you’d do it in a heartbeat as long as he didn’t stop. His fingers stretched you open just right and the drag of his knuckles in your pussy had you gasping for air. 

His fingers were fucking into you hard enough in just the right spot that you were breathless, gasping each time they hit that spot. He groaned against your cunt and it left you whining and grinding against him, his spare arm wrapped around your hips drawing you even closer and holding you still against his mouth. He pulled away from you, protests falling from your lips at his withdrawal, “You’re doin’ so good for me, Y/N, sound so fuckin’ pretty. Perfect little cunt too, you know how much I love eating your pussy, don’ ya, baby?’ He draws, pressing more kisses and sucking little marks against the sensitive parts of your thighs, while his fingers slowly thrust in and out of you. You hum in response, hands trying to pull his head back to where you want- no need him most. “I want you to tell me, Y/N, tell me what you want,’ He insists, his dark, brown eyes boring into yours. 

“You- you know what I want, honey,” you reply, face heating up, suddenly feeling almost bashful at your desperation for your partner. He pulls his fingers out of you at your less-than-satisfactory response. 

“Oh, I do, baby, trust me,” he insists. “But I need to hear you say it. I want to hear you. Don’t go getting shy on me now. There’s no reason to, I know you love when I give you head, you know how much I adore buryin’ my head between your sexy thighs, feeling them squeeze me while i devour you,” he pauses to slide his fingers back into you, smiling at your quiet moan. “Hell, you should see the mess my cock is makin’ down here, leaking all over the blanket I just washed. I’m humping the bed like a damn virgin while I’m tongue deep in your pussy, sweetheart. I can feel how close you are, clenchin’ like a vice on my fingers. Now I’d love to have you make a mess on my face, but I want you to tell me what you want first. No need in getting all bashful, sweetheart, we’ve been here a dozen times before. Want to see your pretty face when you tell me, too.”

You lean up on your elbows, head foggy with need. “Daryl, I need you to make me cum, make me- make me cum all over your face,” you manage to stutter out. “Then, I need you to fuck-” your words are interrupted by a broken gasp as he dives back in, licking and sucking at your clit for all his worth. Your arms give out from behind making you drop onto your back, arching it and trying to wriggle your hips against his hold and let out breathless praises for the man eating you out like his life depends on it. 

“Fuck! Daryl, you make me feel so good,” you gasp out when he goes back to licking circles on your clit. His fingers are curling into you just right, his tongue is circling your clit perfectly, your mind is buzzing and all you can think about is him. You feel your orgasm creeping up, warmth building and muscles tightening.  “I- I’m so close, I-, oh my god, just like that, baby. Fuck, Daryl, please!” 

You let out more whimpers and moans, a few nearly incoherent begs, although what you were begging for was unclear, all you knew is that you were so, so close to cumming on the fingers of the man you loved more than anything. Your fingers tighten their grip on his hair, which makes him groan into you and grind harder against the blanket under him, the vibrations of his groan make you buck your hips, so he tightens his hold on you. He was lapping at your cunt like it was water and he was dying of thirst. His fingers are pressing harder into you with every little thrust and you’re sobbing out as your orgasm finally washes over you. You can feel the pleasure wash over your body, making chills erupt all over you, the heat that’s been building in your core finally explodes and you’re shaking all over, back almost arching off the bed as he keeps lapping at you. You cunt is milking his fingers, legs shaking around his head as you moan out little gasps of his name. His fingers fuck you through the shock waves of your orgasm, but he doesn’t stop his movements. Your moans turn into little high pitched gasps when he pulls his fingers out of you once you stop pulsing around them, only to slide his tongue into your opening and fuck into you. It’s all too much, you can feel the rough drag of stubble on your soft inner thighs and his harsh grip on your ass as you come back down to reality. He finally lets up when you start to pull away from him and your grip on his hair loosens. He pulls away from you, his face glistening in the soft moon light peering in from the window. You grab at the back of his head and yank him into a rough kiss, tongues clash and the taste of your fluids on his lips and tongue make you moan into his mouth again. 

“You’re too good for me, Daryl, honestly. You’re so good with your mouth, I’d let you eat me out for hours,” you breathlessly praise him once he pulls away to catch his breath, letting his forehead rest on yours. 

“That can be arranged, darling,” he muses, starting to lower himself back to your pussy. 

“No! No, not right now. I need you. I need more of you. I want your cock, please, Daryl,” you stutter, desperation fogging your brain. “Lay down, let me blow you.”

“No, sunshine, I’m not gonna last that long,” he insists, hissing when your hand wraps around his aching dick, using his own precum to stroke loosely. You reach into your bedside drawer for the condoms you had placed there a few days ago, they were past the expiration date, but it’s not like you can find any new ones any more, you had both decided you might as well try to use the protection. 

“You sure?” You ask, looking at him with hooded eyes, licking your lips and ripping open the condom. 

“Yes, Y/N,” he affirms. You slide the condom down his length and then use that hand to guide his cock to your entrance. 

You can’t help but notice his shaky breath and the way his hands are shaking beside your head, “Daryl, are you sure you want to do this? We can stop now, we can go to bed, or I can jerk you off, if you’d rather wait.” 

“I want to fuck ya, it’s just. . .” he trails off. 

“Been a long time?” You finish for him. He nods to confirm your suspicion. 

Before you can respond he begins to push into you, your pussy aching as he stretches you out, feeling every vein of his cock as it fills you up to the hilt. Above you, he’s grunting, arms damn near giving out as he rests most of his weight on you. He’s grunting into your ear, muttering a quiet “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” as he adjusts to the tightness of your pussy around him, as you grind and squeeze against him, your body begging for me. 

“Hey, sunshine, look at me,” he’s leaning back to look you in the eye, once he got his bearings He brushes the hair out of your eyes, presses a kiss to your nose. “You feel good, better than I coulda imagined.” 

“Please, Daryl.”

In lieu of a response, he crashes his lips on yours. Pulling out almost completely and pushing back in with a broken moan, your hand flies to his hair as he begins to rut into you. Short, fast thrusts that leave you gasping with your arms tight around his shoulders. He slows his pace when your nails start to scratch down his back. “I-I’m not gonna last long, y/n,” he moans, pulling all the way back and then thrusting back into you hard. 

“That’s perfect, baby, please, that’s all I want. Jus’ want to make you feel good, yeah?” You pant out. Your legs wrapped tightly around him, his thrusts hitting so deep inside of you, you were seeing stars, his hips pushing flush against your own, you could feel his balls slap against your ass. He drops his head to kiss and suck on your neck, you tighten around him and reach down to rub our clit. 

Daryl’s moans and thrusts get more erratic, a sign you know means he’s close. “Fuck, baby, I-” he gasps out. 

“I know, I know, me too.” 

“I’m sorry, you just feel so damn good-” 

“Shut up and let me feel you cum inside of me,” you demand, your voice breathless and broken, he’s stretching you out so nicely and you’re rubbing fast, eager circles on our clit. “Oh- I- I’m cumming. Oh, my god, fuck! I love you so much, Daryl.” 

The rhythmic squeezing of your tight pussy and your blissed out face sent him straight over the edge, he was grunting into you as you both rode out your highs. 

Minutes later he was catching his breath, his legs shaking. “Was that worth the wait?” You joked. He laughed at you and slipped out, shaking his head at your sound of disappointment. Daryl pulled the condom off and threw it in the bin across the room. 

In the morning he awoke before you, the sun shining across your pretty hair, he could see your relaxed face, your tits sticking out of the blanket. He wondered what he ever did to deserve this, to deserve you. He’d fight through a dozen apocalypses if it meant being with you. 

[flamingpudding]

How to NOT find out you're adopted

The fun thing about dying was that it messed with your mind. Well it wasn't fun perse but well it was an expirence. It was espacially fun if you have died twice.

And the best part was. Finding out through dying that you're adopted. Really Danny wanted to sarcastically applaud someone for that.

Because when he stepped into his parents portal and turned it one by pretty much dying through electrocution and then getting revieved by the portal that opened on top of him, life decided that wasn't enough drama. Because at that time a whole set of apparently lost memories reopend.

Good point. In the months after his portal accident he had been to busy to deal with that. Bad point, once he had the time to think about it he wanted to rip his hair out cause apparently that portal accident had not been his first death but second death.

Like it wasn't enough that he didn't have any memory's of anything before the age of five before, got some freaky but awesome ghost powers, no his memories has to return too.

And he didn't like it when they did.

Because that meant he now had to remember his oh so gracious grandfather killing him by throwing him into the Lazarus Pit as sacrifice. Really getting drowned wasn't fun as a first death.

Because that meant he was the son of a crime fighting furry. Someone he barely knew anything but his vigilante name and all the praises his bio mother used to brainwash him with.

Because that meant he had a brother that was likely still getting brainwashed by probably both their bio mother and the lunatic of a grandfather.

Because that meant a realization that the Lazarus Pit was nothing more than a ecto-variant. Which, screw that he now got revived two times through that shit too.

But most of all that meant he was fucking adopted and his parents didn't bother to tell him at all. Now, he really didn't feel bad anymore about not telling them about Phantom.

Really as if being half ghost wasn't messing with his life enough now he was starting to get worried about this grandfather's cult and the crime fighting Bat.

At least they wouldn't come to Amity Park, right?

[seattlesellie]

hi angel i saw u say you wanted more fluffy ellie requests and i thought about maybe something along the lines of the cute pics she has of you two in her phone idk it’s just something i thought of u don’t have to write it if u don’t want to i just love ur blog and everything u write 💗💗💗💗🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

not about love ♡

pre-dating slightly loser college!ellie 🦕 incoming !! basically u go through ellies phone and find… something. part 1 of… maybe?

warnings: slightly mean ellie for a second, sexual tension, mentions of weed and alcohol.

part 2

Tic-Toc, the gentle sounds of the ancient clock in Ellie’s room filled the thick air. a gift from Joel. It was a warm, lazy afternoon. You almost fell asleep, almost. Her bed smelled like her, so did the ruffled, Nirvana t-shirt you were laying on. Everything in this room practically screamed Ellie. The scent, the sketches on the wall — of Dina, and Jesse, and you. Why did she have more sketches of you than anyone else? A dinosaur lego, a miniature solar system, obscure band posters, Oh! here’s the pin you gifted her once!, two pairs of mismatched socks, a random rock (“It’s from like, the moon” she said. It was from the local science museum.)

“El” you whined, receiving a gentle hum in response.

“I’m bored” you exclaimed with a heavy sigh. It's not as if she owed you any attention, she told you she had to study. For some reason, some odd reason nor you or her could put your finger on, you had to be there with her. “Well” you excused. “It’s not like I have anything better to do, right?” A lie. What about your project due Monday? Nevermind.

“Catch this” she exclaimed, tossing a serene light blue stress ball directly at your face.

“Ow!” you whined, yet again. If only you knew what those whines did to her.

“Sorry bro, gotta finish this fucking question. She said, flexing her sore hand. “Fuck this fucking Prof, seriously” She mumbled, clearly annoyed, clearly frustrated. Ellie had this thing, well, if you could even call something that she only had specifically with you a “Thing” — where she had to call you by those stupid names. “Dude” “Bro” “Jeez man!” just to see you squirm. Youd flinch ever so slightly, a fleeting reaction that betrayed a hint of offense flickering in your eyes. Every time you couldn’t help but pout, couldn’t help but look a little bit hurt, it did something to her. It wasn’t because she liked hurting you, God knows she didn’t. It would give her a glimmer of hope, of light. Shed journal about it, too;

“I called her Bro again. She looked really sad. Why does she get sad? I’m so fucking stupid. It’s probably because no one else calls her fucking bro, I’m literally delusional. Also had expired fucking Pizza. Worst day ever. Shit. Not that bad because she smiled at batted her eyelashes. God Ellie you need therapy.” YOURE A DUMBASS!!!!”

Half an hour had elapsed, brimming with Ellie muttering to herself under her breath. lighting a blunt, burning the blunt, passing it to you, begging you to give it back after 3 seconds.

You were pretty sure you had gone through every single app on your phone five times already. Stalking rando’s on Instagram, watching ASMR tiktoks, talking shit with Dina in the groupchat. How much more of this boredom could you take? My god, you were humming a stupid melody to yourself.

“Griiiind boy you know I grind when I pull-“

“Shh”

Did Ellie just shush you?!

“Excuse me?” You said.

“I’m trying to concentrate. Also what the fuck is a Fartulum?” Ellie retorted, withdrawing slightly and punctuating her frustration with stomps on the floor. God, she was too fucking cute.

“Can I play on your phone?” You questioned innocently. One more opening and closing the same App and you’d have lost your damn mind. You could practically see the Candy Crush candies popping inside of your brain every time you closed your eyes.

“No” she answered bluntly.

“Why? you scared I’ll find your nudes? Not gonna look- Swear on my li-“

You could hear her eye rolling, somehow.

“I dont have fucking nudes” she affirmed with a touch of exasperation.

“Someone else’s?” you said quietly. Your tone almost exposed you. Almost.

“Psh… no” Ellie said in return, just as quiet. Her tone almost exposed her, too.

Wish I had yours. Shut it, Ellie.

“Then let me go on your phone” You whined, got off the bed and almost slipped on one of her belts that laid on the floor. So messy, so, so Ellie.

She cast a sidelong glance at you, her eyes darting from the corner of her vision. Her grip on the pen was incredibly tight. It happened every time you got near, got too close to her. Whether it was clutching the strings of her hoodie, her knuckles turning white with tension, or her toes curling in a clenched stance. Shed never ever admit it to herself, cool, calm & collected, but fuck did you make her nervous.

You settled yourself on the chair beside her, causing her to divert every ounce of her attention back to her assignment, shifting it solely onto you. You. You. You.

She gazed directly into your eyes, and a peculiar warmth flooded your face. Its funny how even after being friends for all this time, making eye contact with her managed to stir something within you. She asked you about it once, mid fight. “You never even look at me when we talk!” she huffed. “Yes I do!” no you dont. “No you don’t!” and when your lips quivered, turning you in, she left it at that.

Ellie scratched the back of her neck, her arms flexing subtly with the motion. You gave her that look, the look that made her cheeks go bright pink, her hands clam up. She bit her lip. “Fine”. You won, flashing her a toothy smile she couldn’t help but grin at.

And there you were, with Ellie’s iPhone 5C (Yeah, she never got that buying a new iPhone every 2 years phenomenon) laying on Ellie’s bed, in Ellie’s room.

“Ew - Ellie what the fuck? why is your screen greasy?!” You squirmed, fingertips grazing over her slightly sticky screen. Is that fucking chicken nuggets residue?

“Shut up, dude. You asked me for my phone so deal with the consequences”

Dude.

You rolled your eyes, proceeded to wipe the screen of her phone with the corner of her cozy flannel bedsheet. Her phone was really warm. One more month and it would probably set on fire.

“Password?” You questioned, and shifted to lay on your stomach, your cheek caressing the pillow. It had a little auburn colored hair laying on top of it.

Ellie huffed and waited a second before she responded, contemplating again. It’s harmless, fuck it.

“2222”

“Okay, seriously - you could get hacked with that dumbass password”

“Pffft” Ellie huffed. “I’d fucking beat them up if they tried robbing me” she said, ever the brave.

“I’m not… talking about robbers, Ellie. Like, hackers?”

“Same thing”

“You cant beat up hackers they’re- Nevermind” you sighed.

2222.

If the room was classic Ellie, god, so was her phone. Default Apple background, because she truly couldn’t be bothered. iMessage, Instagram with four pictures on her feed; One of her arm slightly flexing her tat (who the fuck was the bitch who commented “damn” under there?), one of a stray cat wearing her grey beanie, a meme that says “Fuck sex. Let’s do something romantic like play Fireboy and Watergirl on CoolMathGames.Com” (God, she thought she was so funny for that one. 6 Likes, one from you, one from Jesse, the fake Instagram account you and Dina created for Joel, her ex Cat, and one from Dina and a spam bot). Next to the Instagram laid the NASA app (of course), Call Of Duty for iPhone (Made her sleep for only fifteen minutes one night), calculator, 9GAG (People still use that?!), and… her gallery.

You pursed your lips, contemplating the situation. Should you?after all, Ellie said; No nudes. So what could possibly be on there?

Of course.

You couldn't contain a soft giggle that escaped your lips, earning an inquisitive whine from Ellie. "What's so funny?" she grumbled, unable to resist her curiosity.

“Said you were studying, so study” You said, while scrolling through her gallery.

As you readjusted your position on the bed, you unintentionally swiped to the left, revealing her albums. Just harmless browsing, right?

“Screenshots”

“Funny memes”

“Pics to send Jesse when he’s being stupid”

“Dhhdjsjsou”

“Stink ❤️”

A picture of you, laying on the grass, a bright, toothy smile spread across your face. It was from your Instagram, the one you deleted because you thought you looked dumb. The one Ellie commented a for once unsarcastic “Woah” on.

The album was locked.

You felt your throat go dry, heartbeat speeding up. Your leg started shaking, and God, you hoped she would come and snatch the phone off of your hand.

But she didn’t. She just shifted in her sit, cleared her throat and resumed her studies.

You shouldn’t have. But you did.

2222

Unlocked. Success!

You felt like screaming at the top of your lungs. Was it even hotter in here now? Extra humid today? you bit your lip, it almost hurt.

A picture of you and Dina. A selfie you sent to the groupchat two weeks ago. Ellie doodled a green heart on it. You were sweating. A picture of you on Christmas last year. That same day you had your stupid fight on. You were wearing a Santa hat, mug of hot Coco and tiny white marshmallows in your hand.

Your stomach felt as if it were infested by a swarm of Ellie looking butterfly’s.

A picture of you sound asleep, in Ellie’s bed. She was mid-moving a hair strand away from your face. It was blurry. You recognized that top.

You were wasted that day. Blabbering uncontrollably about how you had to crash on her bed, because you were scared your new roommate would think you’re stupid, and dumb, and an idiot, for getting drunk at a frat party.

You couldn’t understand why Ellie didn’t want to help you. You almost kicked her when she said she couldn’t, that you’d be better off in your bed. “I snore. And I kick in my sleep - Seriously” You almost cried. You called her a bad friend, a fake one, because — isn’t that what friends are for? Shouldn’t they have your back when you’re a babbling mess? Hold your hair for you, put you to sleep, take care of you?

Ellie couldn’t sleep that night.

When you laid there, right on her bed, her face went so red and hot you could fry something on it. She almost hit herself in the face when her chest grazed your back. When your leg caressed her’s, and ended up on top of her thigh, she almost screamed. When you shifted to face her, an angelic, sound asleep expression on your face, she swore she almost died. The string of your top came off, revealing more of your shoulder, and the strap of your bra, Ellie turned around so fast she almost woke you up.

She slept for 20 minutes.

When she woke up, she had to make herself remember it. Remember you, laying with her.

So she took a picture. An innocent one.

You almost jumped when the pen fell slipped from her hand and she turned around to face you.

“What are you doing?”

Whats in her notes app?

♡

part two

[piratefishmama]

Finders Givers | Prompted by @aellafreya

Curiosity.

Some may call it a dangerous thing. Some may argue for its ability to lead you to the truth of things. Some may claim it leads you to temptation, to regret, to suffering.

Steve Harrington, was curious.

He’d found the source of his curiosity while visiting a bar he’d planned on purchasing. It wasn’t a huge establishment. Or a well known one. Not exactly big bucks in the making but it was sat in a prime location atop a cellar that led to miles of underground tunnels which frankly.

He wanted.

He wanted them and not for legal reasons either. The tunnels weren’t on any official city map, predating them, Robin and Nancy, his right hand, and his researcher, found them by pure chance while on a fun little jaunt through the local libraries.

Fun being a stretch for Robin, but she needed to hang out with another woman her own age. And so did Nancy.

But he wanted those tunnels, they stretched all over the damn city, with just a little bit of work they could pop up anywhere, perfect for many a less than legal activity.

So many by-chance happenings had led him to that ratty little bi-fold leather wallet. Wasn’t even quality leather either. It looked old too, black with an embossed devil head pattern that probably came from some truck stop somewhere.

He could have just handed it in to the owner he was trying to buy out, could have even thrown it away, but curiosity was a devil sometimes. So there he was, sat down at one of the many tables in that little bar while one of his people did the majority of his work for him (honestly what’s the point of having people if they cant do your work for you?) perusing the contents and feeling more and more depressed by the second.

First, there was a wad of coupons and a single quarter in there instead of bills, which was never a good sign.

Second, a single, solitary, sad, badly rolled little joint.

Third. A single bank card with Mr E J Munson on it. Not even a credit card, just. A debit. Which statistically didn’t mean great things about this person’s credit score. Could just mean the owner was trying to avoid debt, but… doubtful.

Fourth, a stick of gum.

Fifth, a guitar pick.

Sixth, a library card, oof couldn’t even afford to buy the books.

An expired driver’s license desperately in need of renewal registered to Edward Joseph Munson, the photo made him look like he’d just gotten out of jail or some shit, his hair a terrible buzzcut and eyes too big, too dark, and too haunted to be anything else, but then that was just sometimes how those photos turned out. He could have been a totally innocent man!

It had his address on it, a few descriptors, height half an inch shorter than Steve himself, brown hair, brown eyes, male, 140lbs at point of issue (he’d been seventeen), date of issue, issuing State, along with a date of birth, clocking him at a year older than Steve, twenty nine, and… that he was apparently a donor.

And finally, a month old pay stub from a local fast food joint. So minimum wage worker at best.

It was… kind of sad really. Steve actually looked up the address on his phone, just for curiosities sake, because he was already in deep enough to look through a guy’s wallet, might as well google the poor saps address, just in case he felt charitable enough to drop it off on the way back to the high rise.

Oh there was that deep sadness some people might yell ‘I told you so’ about.

It wasn’t bad. But it sure as shit wasn’t good either. Steve knew of at least six bottom dweller drug dealers that operated out of that block, which explained the joint.

And also made him sadder about the joint, the weed probably wasn’t even all that good.

“Hey Robbie?” His long time friend and platonic soulmate turned her bored gaze over to him, she’d been playing angry birds on her phone, he could hear the war cries of those birds every time she launched one. “We done any charity this quarter?”

“Mmmmmnmnnnnoooooo?” It always looked good to the public for a rich guy like him to do charity work. Wouldn’t look too deeply into him if he was seen publicly doing good. “Unless you count telling Dustin to go wild in that nerd shop last week as ‘charity’, your child nearly emptied the damn shop.”

“Nah that was his birthday present, can’t call that charity.” He wasn’t going to reiterate that Dustin wasn’t his child. He was basically mom at that point.

“Alright, so what’re you thinking?” She sat up, turning to face him properly, putting her phone screen down on the table “Sponsoring something? A drive? There’s this cute little animal shelter in Japan called HEART I read about last month, ran by just a woman and her husband working with volunteers, could be a good thing to donate to? Helping animals is always good for PR.”

“…Those sound way better than what I was thinking, this guy’s wallet is bumming me out.” The expression on her face could have probably put grumpy cat to shame. “Pick one of your choices and do something with it, whichever you want. Imma do something about this wallet.” It didn’t have to be a big PR stunt, the fact that he was doing it on the DL as well? It always came back around all sunshine and roses because people believed it was totally selfless.

Didn’t do it for PR, couldn’t be doing it for PR, he hadn’t announced it.

It was always for PR. Always. The reaction just took a little longer to circulate and people were suckers.

“Just give it back to him? That should be charity enough. It’s like nine bucks to replace a driver’s license, you’re saving him nine bucks. Charity.”

“For someone who started out poor, you’re awful, Robin Buckley. Deal with this bar thing for me would you? I’m going to go on an adventure.” Curiosity was a powerful thing!

“Alright but if you come home with another stray I’m suing!”

“That was—”

“Seven times Steve! Seven!!” It wasn’t his fault that he struggled to see teenagers down on their luck. And four of them were two sets of siblings so it technically counted as one time per set, and one came with Nancy so—!

“Fine!” –So, he wouldn’t argue.

Empires weren’t built with throw away people who held no loyalty to you although he did have many of those on staff. Empires like his were built on the foundation of family, and while the one he’d grown up with was a little bit lacklustre, the one he’d built was perfect.

So he wouldn’t argue, he knew she loved them just as much as he did, in her own way, and that any additions would be welcomed with open arms.

—

Steve didn’t take the car. Although he probably should have, he knew at least three of his people would be following him, keeping an eye on him for safety reasons. At a distance of course but they’d be tailing him for the sake of safety.

That neighbourhood wasn’t safe. No matter if he had a weapon on him or not, it wasn’t safe for people like him.

People with visible wealth.

The watch on his wrist alone was probably worth more than some of the buildings in that neighbourhood, and it wasn’t exactly early in the day either. The sun setting made for an excellent ‘rich person in the wrong goddamn neighbourhood’ future police report.

But he made it to his destination unscathed.

The fast food joint from that pay stub. He even double checked the address on it. The chances of this Edward Munson being there were low, but that was fine, he just wanted to check it out. The atmosphere in there, the management styles, he’d hang out in the corner, get a cheap coffee and people watch for a while. See how fun Edward's work life was so he could add it to his decision making tree.

Curiosity really was one depressing little bitch baby.

The manager on staff was loud. Rude. Sexist. And he was pretty sure he’d made one of the staff cry because she’d hurried out very quickly rubbing at her face and sniffling. The temptation to put out a hit on him? High. But no, that was a lot for one asshole… maybe he’d just send Jane out, let the kid take his knees out.

She deserved a little bastard ba—

Someone beat him to it. A commotion later started by someone with a lot of hair, hair that’d been put up in a net and half hidden beneath the uniform’s god awful mustard yellow cap. It’d been two hits, the guy hitting him, and the manager hitting the floor, blood pouring from a very broken nose, spectacular.

The rest of the staff looked on in wide eyed horror, one yelping “Eddie, holy shit!” as the man pulled his cap off to reveal all that hair. “You’re so fired!”

“Didn’t need this shit show anyway! Chris an I quit, peace out assholes!!” Eddie. Eddie. Steve rose to his feet. Godawful coffee forgotten in the face of the mystery Edward, who caught his eye once before continuing on his way, all big brown frankly beautiful Bambi eyes, less haunted but still so big, full, kissable lips, and god, so much hair, going in the same direction as the blonde who’d disappeared to probably go and cry.

Eddie did need that job. He really needed that job. Steve had seen the state of his wallet. He needed that job, or at least he needed the paycheque that came from that job. Couldn’t even afford to buy his own books! He rented them, he rented books.

Jesus.

God, Robin was gonna judge him so bad for the person he was about to become.

Part 2

[gaybananabread]

♪*✧⁠Ramshackle Day Off✧⁠*♪

~It’s official: I’ve gained yet another hyperfixation. I absolutely LOVED the pilot for Ramshackle; the trash goblins grabbed my focus. So, as with all my faves, they’re getting the special treatment. If this is your flavor of interest, I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Stone

Lers: Skipp, Vinnie

Summary: Stone’s having one of his emo moments, feeling down and not even cracking his usual half-smile. Skipp and Vinnie decide to help, using the one method they know will always cheer up their grungy friend. 

Warnings: alcohol/cigarettes mentioned! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

In their slum alley, the three lovable scraps lounged about, enjoying one of the very few days where they didn't have to fight to survive.

Vinnie had hit the motherload that morning in a dumpster: an entire case of Hickory Smoked Beans, just past their expiration date. It was a Ramshackle miracle.

Since they didn't have to forage for money or food, the trio could take a sort of off-day. While Vinnie and Skipp were lounging and making the most of it, Stone couldn't help but feel morose.

Sure, they had enough food for a few days. But what happens after that? What would they do when they ran out and had to go back to their normal pattern? What if they couldn't get enough, and not even shoes could sustain them?

He'd usually just chug a bit of liquor to calm those thoughts, but it didn't seem to be doing much. Life felt…impossibly meaningless. Like no matter how hard they tried, the universe would continue to put them in their place at the very bottom.

Stone had a particular look when he got into those moods. His eyes seemed distant, he sighed more, and a bottle of some cheap, scavenged liquor was always nearby. 

While looking for some fabric to patch his newest jacket hole, Skipp noticed his friend's sullen attitude. It wasn't a rare sight, by any means, but it still worried him to see Stone so upset. 

“Hey…you alright, Stone? You seem kinda out of it.” Skipp kept a respectful distance, not knowing if his friend was in a touch-positive mood or not. He extended a hand to silently ask if touch was okay. Stone shrugged, taking a swig from his mystery bottle. 

“Aren’t we all? ‘re we ever really in it, or are we jus’ waitin’ for death to find us and put us in our final place?”

“Uh…okay?” Skipp patted the emotional man’s head before scooting away, going to find Vinnie. She would know what to do…probably.

Vinnie was lounging on one of their make-shift nests when Skipp found her. She groaned, stretching as she sat up from the pile of ratty blankets and coats.

“What is it now? Today’s supposed to be relaxing,” she whined, running a hand through her unruly hair. Skipp pointed to their drunken, miserable-looking friend. “Stone’s in a sad mood again.”

“Fuckin’...course he is. The one damn day we get off…” Vinnie grumbled, dramatically hauling herself completely out of her semi-comfortable nest. “He okay with touch?”

After the blonde nodded, she marched over to Stone, waving for him to do the same. Instead of greeting him, she straddled the dejected man, squeezing his hips.

“GRK- Vihihinnie! W-whahat the hehell?!” Stone dropped his bottle, hands flying to grab Vinnie’s wrists. He was drunk, though, so his fight wasn’t a very effective one.

Skipp blushed, his eyes widening. Vinnie’s fix was…tickling him? The optimistic guy never could handle watching tickle fights without getting flustered, but now…

It looked fun from both perspectives, and Stone was quite upset. He was pretty sure his mind would behave and let him wreck his friend for one.

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re cheering you up!” Even though his cheeks were still rosy, Skipp joined in, spidering his short nails on Stone’s kneecaps. It would almost certainly come back to haunt him later, but he didn’t really mind; that was a sort of bonus.

“Yep. It’s too good of a day for that depressing bullshit. You need to learn how to smile, ya mopey shit.” Vinnie was a bit less sweet, but there was a kindness in her salty words. She really cared for Stone, even if he was a depressing asshole sometimes.

“Guhuhuys! Fuhuck ohohohoff!” Stone squirmed and twisted under Vinnie, feeling the four evil hands on him. He squeezed Vinnie’s wrists, though he wasn’t exactly trying to shove her off. This wasn't lost on his friends.

“Aww, you like this, don’t you?” Surprisingly, Skipp was the one to tease him. It wasn’t exactly meant to be one, but that’s what it felt like to the giggling man. He groaned through the happy sound, covering his face with one hand. 

“Holy shit, Skipp. I think you’re right!” Vinnie chuckled, though she already knew that was the case. It was hardly the first time she’d used the method to get Stone to quit moping, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. He needed to smile more.

“Wonder what happens if I go here…” Vinnie clawed at the back of Stone’s ribs, making him snort and start cackling. It was his worst spot, and she knew it. “Oh. That. How cute!”

Was that a bit mean? Maybe, yeah, but Stone seemed like he was writing gothic poetry that morning. The shithead needed to laugh that Ramshackle sadness off.

“’M NOHOHOT CUHUTE!” Stone was practically losing it at that point. Skipp had decided to move to the undersides of his knees. That combined with the backs of his ribs was almost more than he could handle. Almost.

“VIHIHINNY! GEHE’ OHOHOHOFF’A THEHEHERE!” Stone writhed, arching his back to try and avoid her fingers. He kicked his legs, but that was pretty much useless when she was on his thighs. Skipp had free reign of his lower body, and Vinnie was practically unstoppable up top.

“But I like it here! You look like Maggot with all that squirming, dude.” She mentioned their angelic friend, trying to get him blushing more. His cheeks were pink, but Vinnie wanted more. She knew how red he could get.

“Oh yeah, he does!” Out of Stone’s view, Skipp giggled, making Stone groan. That little ball of sunshine just had to comment on everything, didn’t he? Stone cared for him, of course; he just wanted to lovingly strangle him sometimes.

“You know what eats maggots, Stone?” He flipped the blonde off, but Skipp didn’t mind. The next few seconds would make up for that. “Jumping spiders!”

Skipp clawed his hands, switching spots every few seconds to spider each area on his legs. It was kinda dumb, but scientifically accurate. That, and it tickled like crazy.

“SKIHIHIHPP! IHIHI- PFFAHAHAHA!” All protests died, swallowed up in loud, throaty cackles. His nerves were practically on fire, his thoughts drowned out by his own laughter. It was finally too much.

“EHEHENOHOUGH!” Stone yelled through his mirth, patting Vinnie’s shoulder. She immediately pulled away, Skipp following suit. Vinnie climbed off, giving him a second. 

Stone immediately curled in on himself, turning into a giggly pill bug as he recovered. “F-fuhuhuck youhu guhuhuhuys…” 

Vinnie chuckled, used to his profanities. She knows they usually mean he had fun, but was still a bit salty. Skipp, however, was concerned they’d crossed a line. “Stone? Did we go too far?”

The man huffed, swallowing another bout of giggles. His composure was mostly back, the thin line of his lips showing a ghost of a smile. “Nah, yohou’re fine. Youhu suck, thohough.”

Rolling her eyes, Vinnie nudged the giggly man’s shoulder. “Ah, whatever. You were being a downer, and you know it.” 

Stone lovingly flipped her off and grumbled something under his breath. Skipp pulled both of them into a hug, and for once, Stone didn’t pull away. He’d never admit it, but the embrace felt nice at that moment.

“C’mon, guys. Let’s enjoy our day off!” Skipp’s attitude remained bright as ever. Stone opened his mouth to argue, but huffed and shook his head. 

“Fine. I’m taking Vinnie’s nest.” Stone sauntered over to the pile of cloth, smirking at Vinnie’s near-instant outrage.

“Hey! Get your own rags, Nevermore!” The two started playfully wrestling, fighting over the nest Skipp knew they’d end up sharing. He leaned against the wall of the slum alley, watching his friends and taking in the happiness they both now felt.

Yep. Perfect Ramshackle day off.

[luvmydogzvm]

H.S teacher Spideypool AU

It’s the first day of school and Peter had just dismissed his last class for lunch. With a long exhale, he flopped in his chair so hard it spun a bit and drifted off to the right, nearly smacking him into the wall that hung a calendar dedicated to kitten scientists that was left by the previous teacher. He keeps forgetting to take it down. Till then it’s stuck in June with an orange tabby covered in ash from a failed experiment. He has no excuse why he hasn’t at least turned to the corresponding month. His head tilted back with his neck resting against the top back of the chair, staring up at the acoustic ceiling, particularly at a tile that has a mysterious orange stain.

Peter’s first class went pretty smoothly, if he does say so himself, some mishaps, but that was expected. His second class was also the same, learning from the first period, there were near to no mishaps then. The same goes for the rest of them, so why was Peter slumped in his chair exhausted you ask? Well, while he was prepared with his introduction, lesson plans, and icebreakers, he just didn’t factor in the energetic and rambunctious students. He had no idea how he could forget such a significant detail. It was to be expected really.

Peter inhaled deeply before sitting up again to let out another sigh through his mouth. “It’s your first day Peter, you knew his job was not going to be that easy.” Peter is in his late twenties and that isn’t considered to be that old, but not too young either, so you would think he could catch up with them, right? Flat out wrong, because Peter was getting up and heading to the teacher's lounge to make himself a coffee that came out watery. Using some creamer from tiny plastic cups that he scavenged from the back of a cabinet.

“Are those still good?” Mr.Rivera– Peter reads off his district I.D–asks when walking in.

“Dunno and don’t wanna. I had freshmen for the last two periods and I need anything with caffeine. Expired or not,” Peter poured in a third one before stirring it in.

Mr. Rivera sipped from his travel mug before he spoke. “Understood. Though some advice, bring your own. Coffee is shit here.”

Peter took a sip from his sticky foam cup and smacked his lips afterward, “Eugh, All I can taste is tap water and sadness.” he said, his upper lip involuntarily curling as he stared daggers at the nasty coffee.

Mr.Rivera let out a half-hearted laugh. “Yeah, it does that. I’m Abigail Rivera, 9th grade algebra,” he introduced himself and extended his arm out to shake Peter's hand.

“And I’m Sorry.” Peter said in return, taking his hand and giving it a shake. The side of his lip curled when he got a laugh from the man, “Peter Parker, 9th grade bio and 12th grade chemistry.”

Dropping Peter's hand, he rested his own on his hip. “Gotcha, you’re the newbie replacing Mrs.Newbury?”

Peter nodded while lifting his cup to his lips and drinking his coffee, which didn’t taste any better or worse. He didn't know how to feel about that.

“Her retirement was long awaited. I think she actually stopped teaching three years before and had just made the kids watch Bill Nye The Science Guy.”

Peter mirrored Mr. Rivera's stance as he lowered his cup from his lips. “Oh, Love that guy. Guess that means I’ve got competition huh?”

“Definitely,” Mr. Rivera chuckled. "They still sing his name. But don’t worry, you are young, so you’ll probably get some attention.”

“Really?”

Mr.Rivera, Peter will only ever address him because even if they are colleagues the man has gray hairs from his head to his long stubble, nodded. His aunt May have raised him right. “You are the youngest, and every teacher is married and has kids. Well, maybe not them all, but the majority. There's this one the kids really like. He's got the attitude and humor of a high schooler, so he fits in with the kids—has his own table, actually.”

Peter’s eyebrows perked. He had his fair share of favorite teachers, but he never had any that he ate with—he ate with his friends. Why am I clarifying myself? But seeing other students eating with them? Sure, but having their table, though, maybe that's a little too much.

“Talking about lunch, I'm going to head down there right now. You?”

“Nah, the Mrs. packs me one.” He dangles the most boring style lunch box known to man. Peter thinks it puts his Spider-Man one to shame. “If you see him—trust me, you will—try not to stare.”

Peter raised a brow. “Got it. Usually mine does too, but I was cutting close to being late so I couldn’t stop by any convenience stores,” Peter had finished his sad excuse for a coffee and tossed the cup into the bin that was by the door. He walked towards it, about to leave, but stopped to look back at the confused Mr.Rivera. “I’m Mrs.” He said with a slight grin and left, hearing himself getting another laugh from Mr.Rivera.

On the way to the cafeteria, Peter reflected on his interaction with Mr.Rivera. Saying he made a friend seemed a little too early to say— not to mention desperate, he thinks—but he made a good impression on someone at least, and he could live with that. Then, he reflected on Mr.Rivera. The man looked good for his age. The married man was tall, maybe a foot taller than Peter and he dressed exactly like Peter’s old geometry teacher did when he was a student. A sky blue dress shirt with navy blue dress pants that hugged his legs so snugly that Peter remembered people Mr.Rivera’s age still go to the gym. Or maybe he goes outside, he did have a good tan on him. “Lucky Mrs.Rivera,” Peter muttered to himself before he pushed through the double doors that led to the cafeteria and the noise of chatty youth.

He made his way to the canteen and waited for a student to get their lunch before he walked up to grab a tray. Suddenly, a ladle was shoved in his face, causing him to stumble back and look up wide eyed at the ladle handler.

“End of the line is over there.” She used her ladle direct Peter, he nearly ducked his head. “I ain't dealin’ with none of you line cutters,” a voice too deep and raspy for any woman told Peter. He blinked in response, trying not to falter at the sight of the large lunch lady that looked like she'd dealt with more than just line cutters. Peter had to fight his flight response, which was telling him to go to the back of the line.

Fixing his glasses, which had nearly fallen off his nose, Peter attempted to clarify himself. “Ah no, I'm not a—”

“No?” The woman somehow managed to sound deeper, scarier, and taller too, or Peter was crouching in slight fear.

He quickly patted around his breast pockets, reached into his blazer, took out his teacher's I.D., and showed the women. Swallowing before he spoke. “I’m a—a teacher! Not a student. Though I'm flattered,” he gave a nervous laugh, but it failed to be one and instead, he cleared his throat. He's 28, he should not be having a voice crack.

The giant woman leaned back and her expression changed completely. Ladle safely out of the way of any faces. “Oh! Teacher! Mr. Parker?” She read his name. “Sorry, but you have the face of a baby’s bum. Oh, but the body of a twig! You should eat more, let me serve you sweetie,” before Peter could say, “You don't need to,” a tray was shoved into Peter's hands that had what looked to be everything that was being served. “Enjoy!” Peter looked up to see the giant woman have a giant grin that flashed him a few of her silver teeth.

“Thank you,” Peter squinted his eyes at her name tag. He needed to update his prescription. “Ms. Johnson.” He looked up at her with what he hoped was a smile that didn't show his fear of the woman and turned to leave with his quite hefty tray. He darted for the double doors he entered through—hoping to hurry back to his classroom and eat before lunch ended—when he passed by a large table that was the loudest of the bunch. He stopped in his tracks and took a look because, from the side of his eye, there looked to be a real buff kid—Nope not a kid, Peter corrected himself. Just a big broad-shoulder man sitting with a bunch of teens ranging from tiny freshmen to seniors. The man’s body looked out of place from the children. His silhouette was reminiscent of an old high school bully of Peter's. The only difference is that instead of a varsity jacket and a pair of jeans, the man wore what looked like a black and red compression shirt and a matching red pair of slim-fit gym shorts. So fit, that Peter wondered if it was just barely meeting the dress code.

Oh and the obvious scarring covering every inch of the man that Peter could see, but he wasn't so focused on that. Through the patchy skin, he admired how muscular he was. Eventually his suspicions of him wearing obvious gym attire, his eyes trailed down the man's chest and Peter saw a whistle and the bright blue lanyard around his neck which meant he was a teacher and not some student. Peter mentally sighed in relief—he wasn't trying to get fired or get called ‘The Weird Teacher’ on the first day by looking inappropriately at a student.

This guy seemed more lively than the teachers he'd seen, especially himself. Maybe even more of a student than a teacher by his manners, eating with his mouth open and laughing loudly. Peter guessed the scarred man was in his early forties. He doesn't look too old, but not too young either.

Peter hadn't realized he was staring when the whole table was staring back at him. Those whose backs weren't turned were now. The tight shorts-wearing man was also looking at him blankly.

“Mr. Parker?” A student spoke up, probably questioning why their science teacher was just staring at a bunch of kids and a teacher. Peter did not blame him. He bet on his life he looked like a creep. Great first impression on his future students too, nice going Peter. And the Weird Teacher award goes to…!

Peter was about to say something, he didn't know what, but his mouth opened though the words that came next were not from him.

“You've got a problem Mr?” A male student, who was sitting next to the oh so fit-and-even-fitter clothing-wearing teacher, had stood up with his hands flat on the table as some sort of support or intimidation stance—Peter wasn't sure, probably the latter.

Now Peter is an adult, but the kid was taller and bigger than the others, even compared to Peter he was probably three of him in width. The buzz cut was not helping him look any different than a prisoner. He caught something from the boy's neck—Oh my God, no way that's a tattoo.

“What? No, no! Sorry, I didn't mean to—Just uh, couldn't help myself and noticed you were just sitting here, with them,” he cleared his throat. He jerked his chin toward the other teacher. “I was uh trying to figure out whether you were a teacher or just a special case of a super senior.” He gave a nervous chuckle, his eyes darting away as he used his index finger to push up his glasses.

Some, if not most, of the students from the table eyed him suspiciously. Peter couldn't help but notice a glint of protectiveness in their eyes and from the air around them. Could it be all these kids where this guy's body guards? He could probably take some of the smaller ones. Wait, you are not fighting children!

As Peter was trying to convince himself that he does not need to defend himself like he is reliving his own highschool experience, he saw the scarred man stand up.

“Would you believe me if I say that I get that a lot?” The man said with a grin at the end. Peter saw how the scars stretched and wrinkled at the sides of his lips. “Alright, hold your fire kids! This guy looks like bully food—I don't think there's anything you can say that this guy hasn't heard yet.”

“No Offense, Wade, but if you’re talking about the language back in your day, we can definitely think of better insults for Bobble head over here than just four-eyes.” A girl with mostly black hair and pink highlights spoke up. Peter wonders if her parents know just how much eye shadow is on her face.

“Bobble head, that's a new one.” Peter wasn't the type to over use his teacher powers and get very offended. Peter had to admit this generation was a whole new breed and he couldn’t help but be impressed...

[duckduckgoosebutitsinatrench]

Déjà Rěvé

Chapter 2: Chaotic Mornings and Messy Romance

CW: 80s Au, Aces messy ass relationship with his girlfriend, Deuce is slow when it comes to feelings including his own

Yuu woke up way too squished and way too warm for their liking. The late spring moving into early summer season made it so the mornings were stupidly hot, but that didn’t mean Yuu appreciated waking up drenched in sweat first thing in the morning.

They slowly blinked themself awake, groggily wiping the sleep from their eyes and running their fingers through their uneven strands of hair. They felt an arm around them tightened at the motion, and they looked down.

While Ace had gone home in the early hours of the morning for once, Deuce had stayed behind and slept over. There was no way in hell that Yuu was ever going to make him sleep on the couch, or God forbid the ground, so they just slept in the same bed. It was nothing new, nor was Deuce being cuddly in his sleep. There was just something about waking up to your best friends’ face buried in your stomach with his arms thrown around your hips that made Yuus heart flutter.

Their fingers find themselves in Deuces hair before they know it, and Yuu smiles and whispers a “Good morning” as they listen to Deuce grumble about how it’s “too early”.

Speaking of early… There was a lot of sunlight in their room right now. Especially for it being only half past six. Didn’t the sun usually only rise around seven or so?

Their fingers paused their ministrations. Shit.

It wasn’t six thirty, was it?

Yuu looked at the old clock that hung on the wall, the hands telling a time of just past seven in the morning, a whole half hour past the time they usually wake up. Taking in a deep breath, they stamped down their rising panic and reasoned with themselves. Half an hour. They had only lost half an hour. They still had time. Ace never got here till about seven thirty-five. They had time. The three of them could make it to school on time! It’ll all work out!

They should probably wake up Deuce though.

Yuu grips his shoulder and lightly shakes, “Deuce, wake up.”

The arm around their hips tightened even more as Deuce groans, burying his face further into Yuus’ body.

Yuu shakes him harder, until his eyes snap open from the force, looking at them in confusion.

“Hey. Eh! Deuce! Wake up! Wakey wakey, we slept in.”

“…Shit”, and just like that he was up. Throwing the tangled covers off him and tripping out of bed. Yuu too climbed out of bed and started walking towards their bedroom door, speaking all the while.

“Shit indeed! Get dressed. I’ll make you some eggs. You like eggs, right?”, and unfortunately, Yuu made the mistake of turning back around, just in time to catch deuce taking off his shirt.

They whipped their head back around so fast they heard their neck crack. Deuce slurred out a raspy “thank you” that definitely wasn’t doing their heart any favors.

“Yeah. No problem.”, Yuu took several deep breathes as they walked down the stairs to the kitchen, the last one sounding much more frustrated than the former ones. Yuu sighed, running their fingers through their hair as they reached the bottom of the stairs. They really had to get over… whatever this was. And fast. Before it fucks everything up.

Cracking some eggs and putting a pan on a stove that somehow worked, Yuu tries their best to make an omelet with what they had around them. They (Epel) had built a garden in the back yard, and there were a few pepper plants around the house, so vegetables weren’t too much of a concern. Seasonings were expensive though. Even when they found the small boxes where seasonings came in packets rather than fancy glass jars, they often had other things to spend money on, so they were running low.

Yuu looked at the small packet of paprika. It had expired a little over two weeks ago…

They dumped it in. Never hurt them before! They had chili flakes in the pantry that went bad last year, and they still sprinkled it on shit!

Yuu closed their eyes sigh. They really needed to just start stealing shit again.

“What’s wrong?”

Yuu jumped, “Holy shit! Deuce! The hell?”, there stood Deuce Spade. In all his sleepy glory.

The bastard giggled, “Sorry!” He did not sound sorry at all.

“Mhm”, they hummed, “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing”. Yuu flipped the half decent omelet they managed to make.

Deuce hummed, walking closer the lean on the counter next to the stove. “If you say so…”

“I say so! Now go get a plate to put this thing on before I burn it”, He did as told, setting it down with a clink as they put the omelet down and shut off the stove. Yuu took a knife and cut it in half, pushing one half towards Deuce and taking the other for themselves. “Thanks”.

“You too”. Yuu raised an eyebrow at him, and Deuce looked a bit embarrassed.

“For the... For the food. Thanks for the food”

“ah”

Yuu walked over to the silverware drawer and pulled out two of the very few forks they had, handing one to Deuce. “No problem, ya gotta eat. I think there’s some juice in the mini fridge if you want some”, they pointed behind them with their thumb, somewhere vaguely in the living room area, and cut a piece of omelet for themselves with their fork.

Deuce cringed.  “Nah. No thanks. I’ll just get something from the café later… or something… do you want anything? I can buy you a latte?”, his voice turned softer towards the end and Yuu had to suck in a sharp breath. They closed their eyes for a few seconds. Getting themselves together just enough to face the world (who was still looking at them), and then turned and raised an eyebrow at Deuce.

“You’re not thirsty?”

Deuce sighs, “Nah, it’s not that. I just don’t want to give Ace any more ammunition”.

Yuu nods in understanding. If Ace saw absolutely anything that he could tease either of them for, that was it. They weren’t gonna live it down for at least the next decade. “…Yeah, I’ll take a latte. I can pay you back later”, they trailed off as they try to remember when their next pay day was.

Deuce just shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, I got you”. Yuu only stared at him for a good minute, deciding to just nod even as they make plans of slipping the money into one of the jackets that Deuce had left at Ramshackle.

Not much more happens after that. Yuu occasionally asking about how Mrs. Spade was, him happily talking about his mom and Yuu happily listening, The occasional complaint about tests, how they could never seem to find the albums they wanted at the music store, etc. Just small conversations, and mostly bitching, to pass the time as they slowly woke up.

Honk Honk

Deuce falls silent and Yuus eyes snap to his, finally looking up from their food. Welp, looks like they passed the time alright.

Honk Honk

“…”

“…”

“… Shit!”, Yuu threw their fork down and it clanked against the plate as they left the kitchen.

“When did it get this late? We weren’t running this late a few minutes ago!”, Deuce said, totally not sounding increasingly panicked.

Yuu was already running up the stairs. “Dude I’m not even dressed yet! Dammit!”

“You better hurry!”, Deuce said as he ran into the bathroom, not waiting for an answer.

Yuu got to the top of the stairs and was about to run to their room when they suddenly thought of something. Turning and running back to the rail, the yelled: “Don’t let Ace eat the rest of my omelet!”, then turned on their heel and hauled ass to their room.

Slamming the door behind them, Yuu opens their dresser drawer and tries to shimmy their way out of their pajama sweatpants at the same time, feeling around their clothes for something half way decent. Picking out a pair of fading green cargo pants and a dark blue sweater that Yuu was about ninety-nine percent sure was Deuces and finally got dressed.

Yuu pulled the end of the sweater the rest of the way over their stomach and paused. They take a deep breath and examines the tattered ends of the sweater sleeves and the various safety pins that were pinned into the fabric, all with a lingering scent of pine.

Yuu really. Had to stop doing this to themselves.

Rushing back downstairs and quickly moving towards the now empty bathroom, Yuu catches a quick glimpse into the living room. Ace was standing with his arms crossed, keys in hand, listening judgmentally to Deuce as he tried to explain why they weren’t ready yet. Ace shifts his weight from one leg to the other in impatience, and then he looks up. His and Yuus’ eyes meet for a single second before Yuu rounds around the corner and opens the bathroom door.

“yo hurry up! We got places to be!”, Ace shouts from the living room, annoyance clear in his tone.

“I know, I know! Shut up!”, they were already rushing around and stressed as it was, and Aces’ heckling wasn’t helping.

They rummaged through the drawer under the bathroom sink that they kept their (and everyone else’s) toothbrush in. When they finally caught onto it they took it out and just. Stared at it.

They didn’t have time for this. Yuu threw the toothbrush back in the drawer and grabbed the mouthwash, filling up the cap and swishing it around in their mouth.

It was better than nothing! They’d steal a piece of gum from Aces’ car for an extra measure. Maybe they’ll even actually floss tonight to make up for it. Trey would be so proud!  

They leaned down to spit, and almost choked as they saw something flash in the mirror.

Yuu snapped their head back to their reflection, a bit of drool drippling down their chin as they watched the mirror in front of them.

“…”

It wasn’t the weirdest thing in the world for someone to see something in the corner of their eye, especially Yuu, especially in this house. Sometimes they’d see a shadow or a silhouette that would disappear as soon as they turned to look. They’d hear strange laughter at night and try to convince themselves it was just the wind, or a product of living in an old (breaking down) house as Grim cuddled closer to them. Sometimes things would wind up missing only to be returned a few days later. Sometimes Grim would growl at nothing. Grim growled at nothing a lot actually… Especially mirrors.

…Grim really hated mirrors.

“…”

Knock Knock Knock

“Yuu? Yuuuu?”

Yuu blinked and shook their head. Seeing nothing in the mirror but their own disheveled appearance and crazed looking eyes. They sighed and grabbed the big water bottle on the sink, pouring it into a smaller cup right next to it and finally rinsing out the lingering mouthwash as they once again wished for running water. They grabbed a towel from the rack and looked at themselves in the mirror again.

They were going fucking crazy.

Knock Knock

“Yuuuuu? Are you taking a shit? Please don’t be! We gotta go!”, Goddammit Ace.

Yuu rolled their eyes and wiped their face, listening to Ace whine outside the door and trying not to crack a smile at some of the things he said. Yuu roughly grips the door handle and slams it open, pushing Ace back behind it and making him slam into a wall, which he winces at.

Yuu laughs at his misery like the good friend they are before reaching for his hand and dragging him towards the front door, where Deuce is waiting not patiently. They hear Ace laugh, his apparent pain short lived.

“sorry”, Yuu giggles out as the three of them walk out to Aces’ car, with Deuce lingering a bit behind looking that he wanted to say something.

“Are you not gonna finish eating?”, oh, that’s what he wanted to say? Ok.

Yuu purses their lips and shakes their head. “Nah. The rest’s for Grim. He can have it”.

Ace straightens up, suddenly interested, “There was an omelet up for grabs? Shit, hold on!”, Ace tries to make a break for it back inside, but Yuu tightened their grip and yanked him back.

“For grim!”, they scold. Much to Aces despair as he dramatically droops in disappointment.

He recovers quickly, however. Shrugging as soon as the dramatic effect runs it course, “whatever. I’ll just buy myself something later… also, don’t worry about it making us late, you’re good”, Ace comforted, returning them to their original conversation.

“Worry a little. School starts in fifteen minutes”, Deuce helpfully adds, and Yuu can hear some part of the peaceful atmosphere crack.

They can get to school in a little under ten, if they were lucky and the traffic was light.  But that was unlikely for the morning rush hour. And to add salt to the wounds, their first class was on the other side of the building.

Everyone increased their walking speed a little more. Well, Yuu and Deuce increased their speed, Ace was still pretty much getting dragged.

Yuu lets go of Aces hand as they get in the back seat, Ace getting behind the wheel and Deuce riding shotgun. Their standard arrangement. The engine rumbled to life as Ace turned the key and pulled out from beside the tree where he was parked, going down the driveway and through the unlocked gate. Yuu wasn’t worried. The only person who they could think would break into a house in shambles, besides maybe a crackhead, was that one guy with who liked to wear horns on his head, but he was a dear friend.

Yuu thinks he was a dear friend at least. They still don’t know his name, and he had been weirdly sad when they asked, but he also laughed at them when they asked if the horns were a costume. So, Yuu thinks he was just a weird guy. A fun guy! But weird nonetheless.

They drove in anxious silence for a few minutes, Ace trying his best to weave in and out of traffic and take as many shortcuts as possible, before he finally broke the silence.

“I still think we should just skip first period and go hang out somewhere else”, when the hell did he ever say that?

“I already told you! We can’t miss first period today!”, Deuce yelled, weirdly set on getting to class on time today.

Yuu looked out the window and watched the sun finish rising and the undercaffeinated masses go to their jobs, figuring that whatever sparked this conversation happened while they were upstairs or in the bathroom, and not really paying attention.

“Why? You skip at least a class like every other day! Why is today any different?”, Ace has a point, but deuce looks like he’s about to start yelling at him. Oh Great.

Then he just looks surprised, and just stares at Ace for a second before continuing, “I… Ace. We have a chemistry test today. You know that right?”

“what.”, Yuus head snaps to Deuce. Distantly, they heard what remained of the previously cracked peaceful atmosphere completely shatter.

“… oh fuck”. Damn. Yuu didn’t know Aces eyes could get that big. You learn something new everyday!

“You both forgot? I’m the one who remembered?”, Deuce sounded like even the suggestion was impossible, which was fair enough. Up until this moment, they’d all figured it was.

“oh my God”, yuu leaned forward in their seat and put their face in their hands.

“we’re fucked”, Ace sounded panicked.

“What is it even on?”, Yuu looked at Deuce, equally as panicked.

“….”

Ace raised in eyebrow in his direction.

“…uhhh”, oh God bless him. Deuce. You perfect idiot.

Yuu smacks their forehead and rubs their eyes, trading a look with Ace in the rear-view mirror as Deuce flushes, “We’re fucked”.

Ace nods back with an air of finality, swerving around yet another slow car, “We’re fucked”.

---

Deuce barrels in through the classroom door with about thirty seconds to spare, making everyone in said room either sleepily perk up or snap to attention. Deuce, however, doesn’t notice this, as he is instantly running back out the door after noticing his two hussies are not, in fact, at his side. Fear not though, for he comes back in the room, just as dramatic as before, but this time with a panting Ace and an even heavier panting Yuu. Someone should probably check on them because they look like they’re about to kneel over.

Mr Crewel looks at them in a type of annoyance that is only brought out by being tested by overactive and irresponsible teenagers first thing in the morning. He snaps the ruler into his palm as the bell rings. It’s a jarring sound, serving only to piss Crewel off more, something that quickly becomes apparent by his sharp tone, “Ace, Deuce, Yuu. Detention”.

Yuu groans, the urge to actually flop down to the tiled floor like a worthless fish only growing stronger- and oh! Oh, there they go! On the floor and still panting! Good for them, Good for them! Bad for Ace though, he is having a really tough time trying to pick them back up, not used to the whole dead weight act Yuu is putting on.

Ace, finally just deciding to let Yuu live out their corpse fantasy act and letting them fall back to the ground with a thud, finally looks back at his teacher to question the injustice of it all, “what? We’re not late! We were in here before the bell rang!”

Deuce furrows his brows just behind Ace, and mutters under his breath, “I can’t go today, I have track…”

And Ace, much louder and with his hand on his hips, declared, “yeah, and I have practice!”

Yuu looked at the ceiling with a dead eyed stare, their breathing finally leveling out as they tried to think of their own responsibilities, “… I have a cat”

Crewel glared snapped the ruler into his hand once again and Yuu wonders how thick the callouses on his hand are because that one actually sounded like it hurt, “looks like you’re all going to have to miss it then. How disappointing. Detention.”, and he turns around with a final weird look to Yuu, looking elegant but everyone could feel the general air of mania around him. Mr Crewel was very clearly not willing to tolerate bullshit today. Maybe his dogs are sick or something…

Yuu speed walks to the back of the classroom where their desk was, perking up with relief at the sight of their desk partner, Silver, who was going absolutely ham on that coffee. Sitting down, they look to their fellow victims. Deuce was trying to explain his newfound sentence to Jack, who looked so disappointed it hurt Yuus’ feelings. Ace was sitting next to Ruggie, who Yuu shared a nod with before turning back to Silver, who was slow blinking up at them like a cat.

“good morning…”

“morning” Yuu absentmindedly played with the sleeve of their borrowed shirt before remembering something, “oh yeah”, they perked up, tugging on Silvers sleeves, “did you know Sebek has a sword in his locker?”

Silver looked vaguely surprised. Vaguely. “no…but it’s good to be prepared. I should probably bring mine… I need to ask father…”, he trailed off, rubbing his eyes and pulling out a strand of hair that had somehow gotten into his mouth. Casual. Like what he said was the most normal thing ever stated…

Yuu leaned over just enough to read Silvers coffee order, and the five extra shots of expresso.

Yuu sat back up.

Then immediately leaned back over. Yep! Five shots of espresso! Shit.

Crewel snapped his ruler and somehow Yuu knew he was looking straight at them, which was confirmed as they straightened up and looked to the front of the room where the teacher stood with a stack of paper in his hand.

“…when you get your test (“shit” “shut up Ace”) keep it flipped on the back side. You will all start at the same time. Do not flip it over until I say so”, and with one last glare, he began passing out everyone’s death sentence.

You could feel the tension in the room slowly rise, especially as Yuu saw Deuces panicked expression. Ace looked at them with what can only be described as a final goodbye at the gallows before they were both hung.

“you have forty-five minutes. Begin”, and with that, their fates were sealed.

Yuu flipped over their test, fully expecting to face nothing less than their impending doom, only to relax as they recognized the topic. It was just a recap of all the experiments they’d done so far, along with a few question on how to handle certain materials.

Yuu looked up, Ace was already writing something down, looking relieved. Deuce on the other hand, had gone completely pale, and was just squinting at his paper, like the words would change if he just stared at them hard enough.

Good luck buddy! Yuu can already tell he was gonna need it!

Yuu had always worked fast. They didn’t have a lot going for them in terms of money or resources, but their memory had always been their trump card. So it was no real surprise to them that they had finished in about thirty minutes. They smiled to themselves with a smug satisfaction as they looked over to Ace, who was now dramatically blinking at a certain question towards the end, and to Deuce, who was still panicking but trying to bullshit his way through the questions.

They yawned, and blinked sleepily, looking to their side as Silver yawned in response, Silver looked like he was fighting hard to stay awake. The completely quiet classroom clearly not helping.

Yuu tapped their fingers against the desk. Not knowing what to do now that they’ve finished. Yuu already knew they didn’t have a book in their bag, speaking of which, they should probably return all their overdue books to the library soon, before the school stops threatening fees and actually delivers one.

Yuu sighed and rested their face on one of their hands, grabbing a pencil and drawing random scribbled on the back of their paper. The scribbles eventually turning into sketches of Grim and random things they could see along the classroom, and a significantly shittier drawing of what looked like three cartoonish ghosts in top hats that made Yuu quietly giggle.

They laid their head down on the table, getting more tired as more time passed, and tried to refine one of the better drawings of Grim. Yuu yawned again, their eyes drooping and their blinks getting longer.

Yuu set down their pencil. This was probably the only time they’d have to nap today, They had to work today and God knows Azul wouldn’t let them take one, even on their break. So, without further ado, Yuu closed their eyes and went to sleep.

Only to be snapped awake by a crop on their desk.  

“Yuu? Yuu! Wake up right this instant!”

Yuu grumbled and buried their head further into their folded arms, trying to block out the noise, and ignore the poking of the waistcoat of their uniform.

The crop snapped against their desk once again, this time much closer to their head, and they sat up immediately, any remaining sleepiness leaving their body almost instantly.

Mr Crewel was looking down at them with apprehension, his black and white fur coat making him look much bigger, and more intimidating than he probably actually was. He was tapping his crop against his palm, and Yuu flushed as they realized that their desk was the only one with a piece of paper on it. Everyone else’s tests had been passed up already.

They looked down and muttered an apology, tugging on the sleeves of their blazer and handing their test to Crewel.

He took it, and Yuu looked up to find almost everyone staring at them, most of them blank faced, their friends looking worried, and Ruggie looking at them with pity. His hyena ears twitching as he tries to silently ask if they were ok. Yuu nods, and he nods back, and that was the end of it.

Crewel was still there, and he begun scolding them, “I know you’re probably busy”, Crewel knows exactly how busy they were “but you know I don’t appreciate students sleeping through my lectures.”

Apparently, Crewel had started lecturing after collecting everyone’s tests back. It made since, Crewel had never cared when students fell asleep after a test, or spent the rest of their time sleeping or something after completing a potion, but if you were caught sleeping while he was lecturing? You were done for.

Crewel was still talking, still scolding them, and Yuu could only be grateful that he liked them enough to do it calmly.

Yuu could see Grim right next to them, looking embarrassed, like he was the one being scolded simply because of association. Yuus eyes were getting heavier though, and their body was getting warm.

They could distantly hear Crewel’s voice getting louder, and his crop snap against their desk again, but they couldn’t hear, or they just couldn’t care to hear.

They felt Grim tug on their sleeve, and felt themself start to lean over, and they braced themselves for the pain that would come with slamming their head down on their desk.

Only to be snapped awake by a ruler on their desk.

“Yuu? Yuu! Wake up right this instant!”

And they were up, disoriented and confused.

Mr Crewel was looking down at them again, the same apprehension on his face as he tapped his ruler against his hand. He wasn’t wearing a fur coat, and Yuu could feel paper under their fingertips. They still had their test.

“I know you’re probably busy”, Yuu looked around the room, only to find almost everyone looking at them. Ruggie looked at them with pity.

Ruggie was wearing a beanie. He didn’t have hyena ears.

“but you know I don’t appreciate students sleeping through my lectures.”, Yuu looked to their side. Grim wasn’t there. Why would Grim be there? Silver was staring at them, his eyes were half asleep and dropping, just like always.

Yuu tugged at their sleeves. Their sweater sleeves. They were wearing a sweater, not a waist coat or a blazer, Yuu didn’t even own either pieces of clothing, they were wearing Deuces sweater.

Crewel was still scolding them. Yuu didn’t care to hear what he was saying, even as he snatched the test off their desk and walked away.

They didn’t fall asleep again.

---

Ace walked slowly to his next class. Shifting his hands in and out of his jacket pockets and fiddling with his necklace. He sighed.

The class itself was… fine? Not that hard, more boring than anything, but fine. It was who was in the class that he really didn’t want to see.

He reached the door and opened it, his girlfriend, Emilia, perking up and giving him a small smile, which he returned.

They had been dating a few months at this point, and Ace could honestly say he was getting bored. It was harsh, but true. He and Emilia had barely been acquaintances when she had asked him out. He said yes without much though, she was cute enough, and reasonably sweet, but that was it. She was just nice, a pushover, really. She never talked about any friends or complained about any family, she didn’t talk about hobbies, probably because she didn’t have any, no interest in music, no classes that she liked or didn’t like more than the others, she didn’t play sports, she wasn’t in any clubs, and she hardly ever picked any of their date spots.

It was like dating a wall, is what Ace is trying to say. But it was his wall nonetheless, so he sat down next to her and kissed her, and she giggled and kissed him back.

“So! How have you been?”, she asked, in a voice that went higher in pitch the more she talked.

Ace groaned, “My friends didn’t wake up in time and almost made us late. We got here in time but we got a detention anyway because the teacher had a massive stick up his-“,Ace was cut off as the bell rang. Which was probably for the best to be honest. Emilia looked at him with pursed lips, like his answer was somehow wrong. How? He didn’t know.

“Well, my morning was good.”

“Nothing exciting happen?”, He already knew the answer to this, but he asked anyway.

“No”, yep, knew it.

“are you doing anything later today?”, Ace regrated his question as soon as it left his mouth.

Emilia straightened up and looked at him with a smile, “No. Why? Do you want to take me somewhere?”

Ace smiled apologetically, “No, I’m sorry, I can’t. Detention remember?”, he tried to say this as gently as he could. Did he feel a little bit like shit for trying to find every excuse he could not to be with her? Yeah, but he genuinely dreaded seeing her each day. He could probably make it work, somehow, he just needed to find something they both liked, something they could both have fun with. He really needed to stop avoiding her though, or that wasn’t going to work.

Ace took Emilias hand in his, playing with her fingers the way that Yuu would always play with his and Deuces when they were zoned out, and said, “I’ll figure something out soon, ok? We can hang out together or go on a date soon. Where do you want to go?”

She smiled a, bit disappointed but didn’t seem to take it to heart. “I don’t know, where do you want to go”, and just like Ace knew where this conversation was headed.

“I chose last time. Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t really care where”, please, make a decision Emilia.

Ace took a deep breath, ok.

“Are there any restaurants you want to go to?”

“Eh, not really.”

“Any movies you want to see? I can take you to a drive in?”

“I don’t really like movies”, you don’t really like anything it seems.

“Do you want to go to an arcade? Or see a concert? Tickets are a little expensive and I don’t know who’s in town but I’m sure I could find-”

“I don’t really listen to a lot of music…”

Ace was starting to remember why avoided her so much in the first place.

“What do you want to do then?”

“Oh, I don’t care what we do!”

“Ok, then do you just want to hang out? We can go to my house?”

She shrugged, “Eh.”

“…”

Ace looked at the clock on the wall, and then at the teacher, who only now looked like he was actually ready to start teaching and sighed.

Ace took a deep breath.

He was going to finish his classes, go to basketball practice (he was NOT going to detention, fuck that), and then he was going to drive Yuu to work and then crash at Deuces house for the night. He’ll drag Yuu there too, but he was not gonna be home to answer the phone and have another call that inevitably lead to awkward silence and on the brink of a fight. Ace would stop avoiding her eventually, but not today.

Today was for being sent on errands with Deuce by Mama Spade (a name affectionately given by Yuu) and playing card games with his friends and run the risk of getting ganged up on if they catch him cheating. Ace smiled to himself as the teacher finally started talking, content with his new plans for the day.

He and Emilia didn’t talk for the rest of the period.

---

“Where the hell is Ace?”, Yuu was tired as they leaned back in their seat, stretching and popping their back as they pretended they couldn’t see Deuces horrified expression at the noise. Honestly, Yuu looked a bit scared at the noise themselves, which made sense considering it sounded like dry rice being thrown around in a cold wok but that was besides the point.

When deuce had recovered, he sighed and said, “probably basketball… either that or he went home”.

Yuu sat up and looked straight at him, and Deuce began to regret his statement when he saw how mad his friend was. Their anger didn’t seem to be directed at him though, so he wasn’t running for the hills or anything, just sweating. “He better not. He’s still gotta drive me to work! I’ll be late if I walk today!” oh, that was the problem.

“can’t you just call in again?”, Deuce weakly suggested.

Yuu gave him an unimpressed stare, before dramatically gesturing around the classroom, trying to make a point of the lack of landline inside a classroom, “do you see any phones in here?”

“Ah.” Well, Deuce just felt stupid now.

They kept his gaze for another second or so, before leaning back and sighing a sad little sigh that made Deuce regret this entire conversation. “Besides, Azul would have my head if I called in two days in a row for no reason. I’m lucky enough that he let it slide once! Anyone else would’ve been fired! Or at least threatened.”

“Trust me I know”, Deuce muttered.

Yuu snorts. “Yeah, I know you know.”, their tone turned teasing and Deuce gripped to edge of his desk, “But Deuce”, they spoke slowly, and he gripped the desk harder. Did he know why he liked hearing his name in that tone so much? Nope! But Yuu wasn’t Ace so he guessed it had something to do with that. “Didn’t you get fired for trying to fight a customer?”, and just like that the atmosphere flipped.

“Hey! That guy tried to fight me!”, Deuce stammered.

Yuu let out a teasing “Mhm”, still staring at him.

“And you know that I never wanted to work there in the first place! Bastard blackmailed me…” Deuce defended himself before trailing off.

“Ay, Ay, easy! That my bastard that blackmailed you!”, Yuu giggled, and Deuce didn’t know what to think about that.

“…”

He door makes a click sound and swings open, making Yuu jump, and in walks Ace, looking pissed off, with a flush on his cheeks and slightly sweaty. His beloved varsity jacket was tied around his waist and over he looked like he had just been at the gym. Deuce followed a bead of sweat cascade down his throat. He didn’t even really acknowledge the teacher that walked in behind Ace.

He stomped over to the desk between him and Yuu and roughly pulled out the chair before sitting down, seemingly trying to make a show of how pissed he was.

Yuu was unaffected.

“And where have you been?”, they asked with that same smooth, teasing tone that they had had just a minute ago.

“Oh shut up!... Basketball.” Ace looks down.

Deuce snorts. Looks like he was right about that. Ace glared at him but didn’t say anything.

“Alright! All of you stop it and sit down! This is going to be a long afternoon for all of us…”, the teacher, Deuce didn’t recognize the guy, thumped down behind his own desk and started shuffling through the drawers for, whatever he was looking for. Deuce eyed Yuu as they took out a piece of paper and a pen, and realization struck him when they wrote something down and then passed both to Ace.

Eventually, the paper and pen come to him, and he quickly reads through the existing messages.

Did you seriously think you could just skip? – Y

Like you haven’t done the exact same thing? – A

Oh I have! But I’m not a student ;) – Y

And they weren’t a student. Not technically. Deuce always forgets that. Yuu had started working here as a janitor, probably back when they first started sticking it out on the streets. They were young though, a few months younger than Deuce himself in fact, so teachers mistook them for a student enough times, that when Yuu actually started following him and Ace to their classes, no one had said a thing. He didn’t know if anyone had noticed and just not said anything yet, but Yuu was still here. And as far as Deuce was concerned? That was all that mattered.

Deuce went back to reading the note. Frowning at the last addition.

Well lucky you then huh – A

Aww I thought you guys liked me here with you? :( - Y

Deuce quickly wrote back and passed it to Yuu, who smiled but said nothing, and passed it to Ace. Ace wrote something down, folded the paper, and just threw it at him.

We do! don’t worry ace is just stupid – D

Why do you always have to take their side? Come on juice! We’re friends too!  – A

Deuce felt his annoyance surge once again, and quickly jot down his reply before throwing the paper back. After Ace was finished writing, he saw Yuu reach over and grab the paper from Aces hand before he could throw it.

Then the teacher looked up and Yuu had to quickly fold their arms and tuck the piece of paper under them in an effort to hide them. The teacher stared at all three of them, one by one, before shaking his head and returned to reading his book- oh look he had a book.

Ace mouthed a “He know” to him. He didn’t have any time to reply or roll his eye before Yuu was gently placing the folded paper on  the edge of his desk.

How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that - D

I have no idea what you’re talking about – A

Deuce, didn’t you have track? Haven’t you missing too much lately? – Y

Deuce smiled. Yuu was so nice.

Yeah jack was disappointed – D

Ace reached over and snatch the paper from Yuus hand when he handed it back.

Oh my God you sound like his mom – A

Mama spade is a nice lady! – Y

Something in his chest just felt like it fluttered. Was that healthy? He should go to a doctor? Did his mom have enough money for him to go to the doctor?

 She’d like hearing that you like her that much – D

The paper was back to Ace, then Yuu, then him.

I mean. It would be hard not to. She makes really good food. Oh yeah, can me and Yuu crash tonight?”- A

When did I say I want to go? – Y

Deuce frowned, writing slower than usual, a bit disappointed. Who was going to keep Ace from eating all his snacks and calling him “juice” then?

You don’t want to? – D

Back to Ace.

You look like you’re about to cry oh my gosh – A

Shut up Ace – D

Back to Yuu.

Can I bring Grim? – Y

Deuce thought for a moment. He liked Grim enough. He thinks? It was funny the way that the cat hated Ace and everything Ace stood for.

Of course – D

…I forgot about that fucking cat – A

Suck it – Y

Deuce smiled.

“Ok. Put the note away”, Yuu jumped again. Ace gave them a look. “- Yes, I see you! Put it away or give it to me”.

Nobody moved. And they sat in silence the rest of the detention period, trying to play bad charades to continue their conversation while the teacher pretended that he couldn’t see them embarrassing themselves.

Deuce found himself smiling. Not the worst detention he’s ever been to.

[buckymorelikefuckme]

Surprise blurb bomb!

You were walking through the park on your way to the pond. In a weird gift, a friend had given you a coupon for a free boat ride. It expired this weekend, and she was going out of town with her husband, so that left you to hang out in the park by yourself. It wasn’t all bad. You got to feed the ducks and the fish, which was almost always enjoyable, except you forgot to bring a piece of bread. No worries, though, because a dreamy man offers you half of his and the two of you fall into easy conversation. You look over at the boat house to see that they’re befall boats. There’s no way your feet can reach, but you bet his can, so you invite him along to keep your conversation going. Who’s your babe?

gut reaction is steve bc feeding the fish and ducks sounds like senior citizen behavior (but it's cute so it's fine). i can picture him sitting on a bench with some stale bread, but not just the bread bc you shouldn't give ducks too much of that, so he brings shit like grapes and regular birdseed as well.

also i'm assuming you mean a pedal boat?? bc you mentioned having to use your feet, so. hopefully that's correct. but anyway, again, steve is our beloved old-fashioned babe and an impromptu date on a pedal boat screams old school to me and i think he'd be more than happy to accompany you. after the boat ride he'd probably take you for ice cream cones or something. i'm picturing him in his 1940s outfits, you know? he wears those trousers so well 😮‍💨🤌

i think by the time he's flagging down a cab for you, you're glad your friend couldn't join you for the day at the park bc you got to meet a hunky dreamboat who kisses your hand when he helps you into the cab with your number written on a napkin safely tucked away in the breast pocket of his shirt.

[mistake-responsibility]

grabbing jimmy’s brain to peer into it for any cool memories that want to be said

“ Are you fucking kidding me? I just got this job!”

Jimmy paced the floor, agitated. He had just busted his ass to get a job that destroyed his body every day, and he was getting LAID OFF after just a week?

“ It’s not just you, y’know…”

“ I don’t get it.” It’s like he didn’t even hear his manager. “ What- what didn’t I do? Was I too pushy about hours? Not pushy enough? I promise, I can change, I just-“

“ It isn’t you, James.”

He froze at the name, glaring over his shoulder at the woman. He would’ve protested its usage, so she quickly continued.

“ Half of everyone is getting laid off. Corporate is pushing for automation. I mean, I’m sure you hate it here, who doesn’t? It’s back breaking, and machines can do it faster without having to take breaks.”

THAT was it, Jimmy realized- he wasn’t a good enough corporate suck up. He took breaks, because his body couldn’t stand it. Of course. They were out to get him specifically.

“ There’s gotta be some way. I mean, can’t you just- not everyone is getting fired, can’t you switch my place with someone else? I’m a hard worker, seriously, I need this.”

At least his manager looked sympathetic. Lucky bastard got to keep HER job. She probably didn’t have to worry about where she’d be next week, the next day, jack shit.

“ I can be a reference-“

“ Forget it.”

Everywhere in the area he was qualified for either rejected him or blacklisted him. Apparently "sexual harassment" was something people took seriously. Wasn't even harassment to say her body looked fine, and it was an ACCIDENT that his hands HAPPENED to brush her.

This was his last fucking hope, and it was going down the drain at the whims of number crunchers who just wanted to spend less.

" It had to be IN PERSON? Christ, do you understand how embarrassing it is to see someone walk in with a pink slip calling your name infront of everyone else?”

“ Well… about that.”

Oh fucking god.

“ I called the sh… the, uh, place you were staying at, and-“

“ They fucking kicked me out.”

God. God. God. This was the worst combination. No job and no place to stay. He was fucked.

“ If you need a-“

“ Forget it. Okay? Forget it.”

He didn’t give her a chance to continue, and stormed out of the room.

All Jimmy had was a fucking gym bag full of clothes. It wasn’t even his. He stole it before his gym subscription expired. It smelled like ass, but storage was storage.

He slammed the locker shut and stared at it blankly. Where the fuck was he going to go now? He could try applying to that warehouse again, but if that bitch really meant when she said she knew someone there…

Jimmy was fucked.

[brokensenseofhumor]

The controversial post that I mentioned on my birthday (aka Tuesday, this post is going up on either Thursday 11pm or Friday asscrack of dawn)

The purpose of this post is to clarify a variety of things just in case I go missing Friday afternoon, but due to certain events on my birthday it turned into an exposé + vent post. Even with such circumstances, I hope you can take away some knowledge about me and other people from this post.

WARNINGS: Private matters that have already been dealt with either a few days or even months ago that I’m needlessly bringing to light, mentions of death threats, and lost of fucked up shit in general.

Saii (@/monochrome-cropcrown) dismissed a really violent meltdown I had the day before my birthday and tried using her visit to the hospital as an excuse for not giving a fuck or even bothering to read not even 1 message from the 1 hour worth of distressed and downright concerning messages I had spammed her with an hour and a half ago. We got into a screaming match and she blocked me, but a few hours later she unblocked me, and started harassing me with messages basically victim blaming me for not being god and being unable to control my emotions, then blocked me again before I even had a chance to respond. Here is evidence:

That being said, I also have to take accountability for the horrible shit i said during my mental breakdown. I admit I made threats of physical violence against Fukui Takumi, wishing he’d slip down his stairs and bash his head into a wall, and I apologize for that. I was far too wrapped up in my emotions to realize I was saying overall horrible things aimed at someone that doesn’t even know who I am, and I apologize deeply for that. I’ll try to find better coping mechanisms to avoid this type of situation next chapter drop.

@/huntersmoon1 traumadumped on me multiple times despite me clarifying that I’m a neurodivergent and seriously mentally ill teenager just as many times, and she’s a grown woman in her late 20’s/early 30s that should be getting a therapist instead of telling some mentally unstable minor on the internet about her family’s problems. She also infodumped to me about useless things, even after I have told her I am not intrested in the slightest about anything she’s telling me about. She blocked me after I complained about another one of these needless infodumps, unblocked me after Mina’s exposure, we both mutually apologized for our mistakes, and she proceeded to block me again.

Shortly after Mina’s exposure as a groomer, @/praisethesuuun made a post saying that I shouldn’t be on the internet just because I have BPD symptoms and I’m also a minor.

My mom neglects me and verbally abuses me and my dad is a creep that always disrespects my boundaries, has tried to SA me when I was around 7-9, and this week he stole the conditioner my mom bought for me (after refusing to buy me a new one for the past 3 weeks).

The verbal abuse from my mom started when I was around 5-6 years old.

My mom also held off on buying me toothpaste for 4 weeks, and I was stuck using probably expired toothpaste for over a month.

My school feels more like a North Korean labor camp rather than a school. My homeroom teacher is a bitch, as of the time im writing this post she has threatened to smell each and every student’s ARMPITS (With the most psychotic smile on her face, too) MULTIPLE TIMES. The school’s practices are no better either. Oh what’s that? You didn’t do this easily forgettable and completely useless and unnecessary homework? Oh I’m so sorry, your exam score is an automatic 0 now. Most teachers are so strict that I almost developed a crush one the one teacher that was actually cool.

ALL HAIL KENDRICK LAMAR 🙇🙇🙇🙇

Tags: @aresarmyblog @rukia-writes @amphitriteswife @micah-drew @mizz-sea-nymph @miyahsart @cherry-froese @riseofamoonycake @incorrect-record-of-ragnarok @itz-hellenz @swallowtail-lotus @the-gentlemen-jack @sibchatactics @onecantsimply

[sally-face-fan-72]

Sally face fanfic (#2)

Heres the second chapter because i feel like the first one kinda dragged, and maybe this one's better?

TW: child abuse, possibly offensive language

Chapter 2: Sally Face.

Its the next day,

Its not a typical day, but its a day of dread and many regrets,

Bologna Sandwich day.

Sal absolutely despises Bologna day because the bologna at lunch tastes different from typical bologna.

Literally everyone hates the school lunch on days like these, except for that rude, blonde kid, Travis.

Travis is the son of a preacher, particularly Kenneth Phelps. Their family is known for owning the Phelps Ministry, which is probably one of the last places Sal would ever wanna be.

Sal for the most part doesn't hate Travis. If Sal's being totally honest, he thinks Travis is projecting his insecurities onto Sal and his friends.

So, by the time the bell rang, it meant lunch time.

Sal wasn't surprised to see Travis scarfing down his bologna sandwich.

Sal dazed out at Travis, was trying to figure out how he eats that disgusting shit, While the group was in a deep debate.

"What are you looking at?" Larry asked while trying to look in the same direction Sal was.

Sal peels his attention from Travis and puts his attention back onto the group at his table.

Ashley, Todd, Maple, and Chug were all having a group discussion on who was most likely to become a criminal in the friend group.

"Hey dude, you okay? You haven't been talking at all today, everything alright?" Larry asks, with a genuinely concerned look on his face, ignoring how the group branched off and talking about ghosts haunting public places — something in which Larry loved to talk about.

Sal closes his eyes and softly shakes his head, trying to snap himself out of it, replies "Yeah Yeah, I'm fine."

Even though Sal went back to looking at his tray and started eating his apple, he couldn't shake the urge of anger with a slight undertone of sympathy (somehow.)

Almost like it was on a whim,

"Does that bologna smell funny to you guys?" Ash questions while having the most disgusted look possible on her face.

"I thought last week's was a little off putting but it seems to be worse this week." Todd adds with an equally disgusted look.

"I heard it's made from goat meat." Larry said, half joking.

"Didn't a bunch of kids call in sick the day after bologna day last week, too?" Sal budded in.

"Aw, hey, you guys! Don't ruin lunch for me. please! It's the only good part of the day." Chug says, chewing on the bologna sandwich in his hands.

"...Group huddle..?" Sal suggests while looking at chugs half eaten bologna sandwich, a feeling of queasiness in his stomach.

"I'm in" Larry agreed.

"Me too!" Ash added.

"Count me in." Todd responded.

"Have fun, I'm going to stay here with Chug" commented Maple.

As Todd, Ash, Sal, and Larry make their ways next to the exit of the cafeteria, they stand in a circle.

Sal starts by saying,"We need to find out if there's anything wrong with this bologna. Maybe there was a batch of bad beef or it's expired or something."

"Or bad goats. I'm telling you, dude, the shit is funky. Doesn't taste like no beef to me." Larry added, once again, on the goat theory.

Todd, adding his smarts to the conversation, stated "The product is most likely a blend of low cost meat components from different sources of beef, pork, chicken and or turkey."

"Todd, man, you're making my stomach turn." Larry wraps his arms around his stomach.

"This is like the hot dog incident all over again." Ashley sighs.

"..Ugh, I hope not." Larry says, squeezing his stomach harder.

"You know, Sal might be on to something. There could be an issue with the lunch meat. I'd like to take our sandwiches to the science lab and see if I can find any bacteria or signs of expiration. However, it would be helpful to know what the exact ingredients are." Todd explained.

"Okay. Ash, you go with Todd and help him in the lab. Larry and I will try to get more information on the bologna." Sal decided.

"Sounds like a plan." Ash agreed.

-

Sal and Larry almost immediately began talking to Maple and Chug.

"Oh... Uh. Hi, Larry." Maple spoke.

"Hey, Maple." Larry replies.

"Aren't you going to eat your lunch?" Sal questions Maple.

"My mom made me peanut butter and jelly again. I'm just kinda tired of it, you know?" Maple sighs.

"Ah, I mean, If you're not gonna-" Chug says with mouthful of food.

"Of course you can have it, Chug" Maple answered, sweetly.

"Heck yes!" Chug exclaimed.

Sal and Larry walked away. They make their way towards the front of the cafeteria where they had been a few moments ago.

"Hi, Kim. We wanted to ask about the bologna. Could you tell us where the school buys it from?" Sal asked.

"Why you want to know about bologna, eh? Something wrong with Kim's cooking?" Kim questioned Sal and Larry.

"No, no, we were just wondering where it-" before Sal could finish, Kim snapped back.

"You kids go and sit back to chairs now. No more question."

"..Do you think we could just see the package or-" Sal tried to finish but before he could,

"No packages for you. Just butts in chairs. Go on."

As they walked back into the crowded area of the lunch room, Kim stared at them.

"Well, that was a failure. She always seems so unhappy, I wonder why she stays here." Sal questions.

Larry and Sal, In hopes to find at least a small red herring, walked to their last contender, well, it's more of a last resort.

"I thought I smelled trash. What are you flamers up to?" Travis asked.

His eye looked swollen to high hell, It's been happening for a while now. It's no big surprise to find a new bruise on Travis every week if not on the daily.

Honestly, Sal couldn't help but feel a little remorse for the comment about his dad he made, but he had to thank himself.

If it weren't for that comment, Travis wouldn't have punched him, and he wouldn't have spent that moment afterwards with Ash.

"Get bent, Travis." Larry retorted.

Sal shook the feeling and added "Don't you have some sandwiches to attend to?"

"You're lucky it's bologna day..." Travis threatened.

Sal had to drag Larry away before he could get another word in with Travis.

"Who the fuck does that pretentious prick think he is!?" Larry says to Sal with clear fury in his eyes.

-

Soon after, Larry and Sal split up, Larry searching for Kim's file, and Sal going to help Todd and Ash.

As Sal helped Ash break into the janitor's closet, and helped Todd get the sample, he needed a break from his prosthetic.

Sal walks up to the boys bathroom, opens the door, and walks in.

he walks up to the nearest sink towards the door.

Sal unbuckles the buckles on the back of his mask and places the prosthetic onto the sink. He then turns on the water, makes a cup with his hands, and starts cleaning his face.

Sal notices a white thing on the pale-orange bathroom floor that catches his attention. his eyes drift away from the mirror to the piece of crumpled up paper near the trash can.

Sal glanced at the balled up paper next to the trash can. It looked as if someone tried to throw it away, but missed. He was resisting the thought of picking up the note and seeing what it said, but everything in his mind was telling him to pick-up and read the note.

Sal buckles his mask back on and walks over to the note in front of the trash can.

'Hmm...Couldn't hurt to take a quick peek...'

Sal picks up the crumpled piece of paper off of the floor.

It reads, "I know we don't really know each other and you probably have your opinions of me. I thought maybe if I told you how I feel, things could be different. The truth is, I can't stop thinking about you. I'm crazy about you. I think you're amazing! But I know these feelings I have are wrong. It's not the way a boy should feel. Shame swallows me whole, just writing these words.

My father would kill me but I can't live in his shadow forever, I just" a bunch of scribbles block the rest of the words from being seen.

Sal places the note down and goes to check the bathroom stalls, maybe the person that wrote that letter was still in the bathroom?

Sal knocks on one of the stalls,

"Anyone in there?" Sal asks

"No duh, fuckwad. Buzz off!" Travis barked.

"Travis? Were you just...crying a second ago?" Sal asked, as you could hear sniffles and muffled sporadic breathing.

"Sally Face? I — No! What the hell? Can't a guy get some privacy?" Travis sputtered.

"Why do you hate me so much?" Sal looked down to the floor.

"Because you and your dumb friends are a bunch if homos! It's sick! It's not right! God will never love you! Why should I?!" Travis argued

Sally takes a seat on the tile floor, next to the bathroom door. "...You know we aren't all actually gay, right? I mean, besides for Todd. Todd is super gay. But that's part of who he is and I think it's wonderful. He's one of the kindest people I know. How could anyone hate Todd?" He replies back to Travis.

"Ugh!" Travis grunted.

"Is your father pushing these beliefs on you?" Sal started questioning the blonde kid.

"Just because my dad is a preacher doesn't mean he owns me! I'm my own person!" He retorted back to the blue boy.

"Yeah, but..." Sal sighs "Well, you seem so unhappy, man."

"Are you sure your dad isn't putting too much pressure on you? I bet it's tough being the son of such an intense man." Sal empathizes.

"You have no idea what it's like." Travis replied

"I'm sorry, man"

"Don't feel sorry for me, Sally Face, I don't need your pity." Travis growled.

"We don't have to be enemies, you know that right?" Sal asked.

All that came from Travis's side of the stall was silence.

"I think under all of that anger, there's a good dude who's afraid to be himself." Sal says.

Sal continues, "If you ever need someone to talk to or if you need to stay away from your dad for a while, you can hang out with me."

Travis sniffles, obviously tearing up, ". . . Why- Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I don't think you're a bad person, Travis" Sal says honestly.

"You know, I don't really hate you... or your friends..." He confesses

"I didn't really think so." Sal commented.

"I- I guess- Well, I'm sorry I've been such an asshole. You didn't deserve that." Travis admitted.

"That means a lot to me. It really does." Sal continues "Thank you. And what I said, about being here for you if you ever decide you want a friend, I meant that."

Travis sniffles "Don't push your luck Sally Face."

"Oh, uh, here. I was gonna flush this down the toilet.. but I guess you can have it. I found it on your desk." Travis muttered.

Travis handed Sal an envelope with his name on it.

"Thanks, Travis."

"Okay, now scram so I can have my alone time. And, uh..." Travis pauses.

"What?" Sal questions.

"Don't tell anyone about this or you're dead! — Er, I mean, just, please don't tell anyone about this. Okay?" Travis asks him.

"I won't" Sal assured.

Sal gets up off of the bathroom floor, picks up the crumpled-up piece of paper, and drops it into the trash that it was once sitting next to.

Sal walked out of the bathroom with a new found worry.

A rude, blonde kid by the name of Travis.

(word count: 1968)

I have 2 more parts, but idk if i should post them. please lmk if you have any questions or tips, because I have no clue what to do with the plot and I haven't known for the past year.

[wooahaes]

beyond the veil

pairing: non-idol!ghost!jun x gn!reader

genre: horror, but light horror

word count: 0.8k~

warnings: mentions of a murder that went unsolved. reader falls through rotten floorboards, but they're fine. very minor injury depictions.

daisy's notes: ... google how do i kiss a ghost (again)

No matter how much you had begged your friends to let you out of the deal, they wouldn’t budge. This was why you ended up in that house that day with everything you probably needed to survive the night. Or… Well, four hours: your friends had given you that. Four hours alone in the house at the end of the street that was said to be haunted by everyone who had ever tried to live in it. Eventually, the people selling it gave up. If they knocked it down, it might anger whatever spirits were inside of it. There was a reason the equipment continued to malfunction whenever they got too close.

Of course, this meant you would… probably be fine. The house seemed structurally sound enough, and all you needed to do was last from ten at night to two in the morning. Four hours in total, and your friends would be right up the road, waiting for you (Seungcheol refused to just leave you there, even though Mingyu refused to come and it was just Wonwoo and Vernon in the car to keep him company). The first two hours passed by without much happening aside from the occasional creak of a floorboard that you contributed to the house settling. You’d bundled up enough to keep warm, and kept yourself moving in the meantime. You had alarms set for every hour and tried not to touch your phone any more than you needed to. If something happened, you would call Seungcheol, and he would come in to get you. That was the other part of why he was outside.

You’d walked through maybe every room by this point. The kitchen was bare, all equipment taken from it and likely trashed or resold if it was of any use. The pantry only had canned goods left inside of it that expired years ago. The living room was mostly untouched except by dust and what you assumed had to be mold in some corners (nothing dangerous: a quick Google search proved that for you and set those thoughts at ease). The basement was mostly empty, as were the higher floors of the house except for a few bed frames and whatnot. The bare bones of a house that was once lived in.

It was after another sweep of the house that you heard a cat meowing. That was weird: you hadn’t seen a cat so far, but that didn’t mean anything. Some cats were very good at hiding, and it could have just been avoiding you the entire time—or maybe it climbed in through a hole somewhere. Most of the windows had been broken over the years. Your phone buzzed with another alarm, signaling to you that it was the halfway mark of this endeavor. Tugging your jacket closer to yourself, you made your way to the back half of the house, following the meows. You pushed the door open, looking around.

“Kitty?” You called out, clicking your tongue to try and get it to come out. “It’s okay… I’m not gonna hurt you.”

In the furthest corner of the room, you saw a little white cat curled up. It lifted its head, turning to you and meowing one more time, but didn’t move. Maybe it was hurt? You took a step forward, moving slowly as you clutched the flashlight that Seungcheol had given you.

You took a few more slow, steady steps, and the floorboards groaned underneath each one. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna—”

All at once, the floorboards gave away underneath you, the rest of your statement lost as you let out a scream. Everything went black, just for what felt like a few seconds. But you roused easily enough, watching the way the dust in the air puffed up and dissipated. Your body ached, but maybe the thick layers you wore helped cushion your fall. Then again, maybe it was all luck: a fall like that could have killed you. The pain in your body was proof enough that it didn’t. 

You shut your eyes, taking a deep breath. Fuck, that shit hurt. Yet when you opened your eyes, you had peered into the curious one of a man who had suddenly stood over you.

With another yelp, you scrambled away, groping the floor to find your fallen flashlight as you began to apologize for trespassing. “I didn’t know anyone lived here—Everyone said it’s haunted, and my friends made this stupid bet, and I lost, and—”

When you looked at him again,  you realized something. This man wasn’t… there. You could see him, sure, but the rays of moonlight that stretched down seemed to filter through him. 

His eyes widened after a moment. “You… You can see me?”

Then you realized something. You knew this man. You’d seen his face in the papers a few years ago, back when the police were investigating this place. Wen Junhui. Twenty-something. Found murdered in the basement. Killer never found.

Oh fuck. You were seeing a ghost.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @staranghae @synthetickitsune @weird-bookworm

[futurepastme]

Before the Dawn of Man in Castles Made of Sand

For the past year i've been trying to write my first fic and I barely even started at all, but from time to time I imagine a few scenes that might or not - probably not- be included on the main story and SOMETIMES I write them down anyway I can, as fast as I can. And sometimes I actually take the time to try writing something decent.

So here is a scene that I though of that supposedly is part of the fic I'm writing but will never happen: ≈2.5k words

Three hundred-ish years ago, the first King of Camelot, King Bruta, signed a very detailed peace treaty with the King of Essetir, Éamonn. It wasn’t a ‘now-we-are-buddies’ agreement or a ‘you’re-in-trouble-let-me-help’ agreement, no, it was a ‘keep-our-shit-to-ourselves’ agreement.

Bonded by blood magic, the treaty stated that as long as a descendant of both the original kings set on the throne of their respective kingdoms, no acts of war, military or otherwise, would be allowed between their kingdoms on penalty of the immediate interruption of the lives of the current rulers and all of their living relatives. 

A complete ending of the bloodline, with no one left to salvage it in any way.

The treaty was signed by both Kings and any living heirs they had, so as to make sure that the bloodline was completely bounded by the contract. 

The magic, though, had an expiration date. It was powerful, ancient magic, but as the seasons change and the days turn to night, magic, too, is frail against the will of time, and as it passes it would slowly fade into nothingness.

It was stated then at the bottom of the contract, just before the fancy signatures with the swirling loops, that when the time should come for the magic to disappear, both Kingdoms’ current rulers should reunite in a meeting for the reinforcement of the spell and a renewal of the contract. ♦

Some would say that Merlin ran out of time. Which was clearly an exaggeration seeing as he still has plenty of time left. No, really, he still had like, at least five hours before things really go to shit. That’s what he thought, anyway.

But some people, well, everybody but Merlin, would say that he ran out of time a week ago, when the announcement was made; or four days ago when the party was ready to leave and Merlin sat on his horse; or even yesterday when they were still outside of the Kingdom, camping for the night.

But no, he definitely still has a few hours. The party still wouldn't even be able to see the castle for another three, and they wouldn’t reach the lower town for another half hour after that.

Merlin was out of time.

He sat on his saddle, restlessly sweating his nerves out. If Arthur could see him, he would order him to stop, ask what is wrong and call him a girl, all in a single phrase. Arthur couldn't see him, though.

If this were a simple hunting trip, Merlin would be by his side, chattering his ears off and completely disregarding every royal protocol ever written in the history of mankind. But this was a Royal Camelot Party led by King Uther himself, which, of course meant that Merlin was far off the back riding along with the rest of the servants of the Royal Household. 

Which meant that he could barely even see Arthur’s stupid golden hair, let alone talk to him about anything.

So, the battle plan, now that he still had plenty of time was that he would avoid everything and everyone that has a mouth or ears or eyes, run for Arthur’s assigned chambers, tell him everything without crying at all and then pray that he could leave said chambers alive and sane. And with his heart unscathed. 

It is not every day you tell your master, friend and secret crush that not only your existence is illegal in his father’s kingdom, but you are actually royalty yourself. Royalty of the kingdom they were currently at.

So, Merlin was having a great day, and a stressless week.

And it only got better when the knights arrived.

A small party of seven men, dressed in armor very similar-looking to the ones from Camelot, the only apparent difference being the blue capes and the lack of a royal crest on the chest piece, slowly approached, led by an almost completely gray-haired knight with dark eyes and an almost charming smile.

“Welcome to Essetir, your Majesty, Your Highness. I’m Sir Griogair, we are here to safely escort your Majesty and your party to the gates of the keep.” Merlin hastily pulled his hood and sank lower on the saddle. 

Griogair was, in Merlin’s opinion, a slimy little man greedy with power, he has loathed the guy since the day he sat foot in Essetir, every hair on his body reacting with the man’s disgusting nature. But of course, ‘bad feeling’ wasn’t a good excuse not to knight the bravest looking guy his father had seen in years. Especially when you are only thirteen and don't know better yet.

He deserved credit, though, for Griogair was, at the time and still, a very handsome man with charms to spare. He had won over almost everyone in the keep within the week, was knighted within the month, and when Merlin left, he was one of the most high-ranked knights of the kingdom.

But now, for the looks of it, and from the few words he managed to hear all the way from the back, Griogair was not only a First Assembly Knight, and a Dragon Rider of the Kingdom, but has snatched for himself the position of War Mage.

That meant that not only the fucker had learnt magic, but it was skilled and powerful enough to be able to qualify for the position and now could use it freely on behalf of the kingdom. It also meant that, when in mission out of the keep, he would be responsible for dealing with the magical creatures and beings that lived within the borders of the kingdom, interfering as necessary.

Also, that meant that the bastard had clearly taken advantage of Merlin’s absence to ensure the one position Merlin could and would have stopped him from getting. 

Anger aside, Merlin took a second to recompose himself and to try to identify the other knights that came with Slimy Griogair. He knew his father wouldn’t send a bunch of low-ranking knights to deal with burn-innocents-at-a-pyre-for-fun Uther Pendrasshole and his entourage.

The three knights that rode on the left side of Slimy Griogair he couldn’t see. Actually, he barely couldn’t see the Snake himself, which he was equally parts glad and concerned.  

Of the other three knights that he could see, two he failed to recognize. 

But at the front, riding almost side by side with Griogair, he caught a glimpse of curly snow-white hair. Sir Llywelyn was by far his closest knight, 5 years older than himself, the man was a true friend and a fierce knight. 

Ending his quick inspection of his men, Merlin lowered his head further, letting the hood blind his vision fully and trusting his horse to follow the others. Friend or foe, Llywelyn or Griogair, it didn’t matter, Merlin had to get home unrecognized by either of them or the other knights.

♦

At this point in his life, one would think Merlin was used to things not going as planned. From magical creatures that appear from nowhere to bandit attacks, Merlin’s day never went as he expected since the day he decided to leave home and follow his magic to the great unknown. The great unknown that led to Camelot and to the unending headache that his life became.

You would think that somebody as powerful and as used to ambushes as Merlin would have been able to feel the approach of a huge flying magical creature, but he had better things to worry about then to be attacked by his own dragon.

The betrayal, honestly.

They had been on the road for another hour since his knights joined Camelot’s Party. Merlin still had his head down, but now his hooded cape had a small spell that kept his hoodie from falling unless he wanted it down.

He was bored. Not only far away from Arthur and from Leon, but he still had to ride at George’s side.

The man has been rambling on for hours about all that was known of Essetir culture and servants’ etiquette, which wasn’t much, but he somehow managed to stretch a 3 pages lost-through-time knowledge into a 40-minute-and-still-going monologue, and also somehow made it more boring than the grain reports.

It went down really fast

One second, he was on his horse, trying to not listen to George and still stay awake, and the other he was on the ground with an extremely heavy, horse-sized, white dragon licking his face.

The second that his brain took to understand the situation was enough to hell break loose.

Camelot’s knights stood on one side, weapons drawn, ready to kill the beast, while his knights tried to protect Aithusa.

There were shouts and threats from both sides, and stupid Griogair, instead of trying to appease the situation and take the unknown Camelot servant from under the huge magic creature that he should be responsible for, no, he was aggravating the situation even more.

He had to do something, now.

By the time he got back on his feet, both sides were ready to attack each other, Arthur’s arm raised slightly, ready for the first strike.

“Enough” he said, walking to put himself between Arthur and Griogair. His voice was loud and clear. A voice of command and power, a voice he hadn’t used in years. It was the strong voice of someone born to lead legions to war. Camelot’s knights relaxed a little, if by shock or relief he didn’t know, but they kept their stance as Arthur scanned him “I’m fine, no harm done.”

He turned fully toward his knights “Lower your weapons, now.”

The problem was, Merlin was still hooded and Griogair was still an asshole “Is this how Camelot’s servants speak with their superiors?” Stupid said, while grabbing Merlin by his clothes and suspending him in midair.

“Put my servant down. Now.” Arthur commanded, his voice dangerously low and calm.

“The boy might have harmed the dragon, until I say he didn’t, he stays in our custody” Griogair, the idiot that can’t read the room, said.

That’s also when Merlin decided to let his hoodie fall.

He heard a few shocked gasps, and felt more then saw his nights stand down and lower his weapons. But nothing would make him loose the amazing sight of Griogair’s shocked face as he began paling to death. “Put. Me. Down.” He said for Griogair’s ears only.

“Y-your Highness” He dropped Merlin like he burned his hands taking half a step back, Merlin would have fallen but right now he wasn’t the clumsy servant anymore, he was the Crown Prince Merlin Ambrosius of Essetir, trained in combat from a young age, and with a political situation on his hands that could lead to war.

“Forgive me, My Lord. I hadn’t realized we were graced with your illustrious presence” His head in a low bow, but his eyes never leaving Merlin’s.

“Sir Griogair”

“It is really good to have you back, Sire. The people start to talk, you see? Rumors about your death spread, but not me, Sire. I knew better, you see? I told them all; No one in the five Kingdoms have more skill or bravery or the complete…”

“Stop talking”

The amusement Merlin felt when he first saw Sir Griogair’s shocked face had slowly diminished and was long gone. Every second that he stood there, posture straight, facing his knights in his kingdom, with the feeling of the stares of another Royal Household burning his right side; the further away he was from the happy servant he was this morning, and now the phantom weight of his crown started pressing down on his head.

“I’m sure you are aware, Sir Griogair, of my reticence towards you when my father first started rising your rank within the knights”

“I’m sure I more than proved myself, Your Highness. The king himself knows; my position was more than des…”

“I’m not done” Merlin interrupted again. His posture as straight as possible, his head held high.

“I’m aware of the King’s feelings in regards of your person; and I’m sure you somehow proved yourself to him in many occasions, my father wouldn’t reward with higher ranks a man he deemed undeserving.” Griogair has stopped bowing, straightening his body and letting a smile that was meant to be charming form on his face.

“Unfortunately,” Merlin continued “I have yet to see the actions that would grant rewards such as your high ranks, and today you have, at my eyes, failed the crown and your kingdom.” His voice was loud enough to be heard by all of the Camelot’s entourage, even George and the other servants at the back.

“Your Highness, surely I can’t be blamed for the actions of a brainless…”

“What my dragon did is irrelevant, as a knight your actions reflect on the kingdom more than anything Aithusa could possibly do, you carry our colours and is responsible for the safety and well being of every living being inside our borders, not only our citizens and creatures, but our guests as well.”

“Sire! I…” He wasn’t smiling anymore; panic was back on his face.

“Unfortunately, your actions today can’t be left unpunished, and at the absence of the king, I’ll be the one to define such punishment; my decision here will be final and would only be overruled by the King himself.”

“Please… Sire!” He fell to his knees, grabbing the hems of Merlin’s cape.

“I hope you know, Sir Griogair, that despite my personal feelings towards you, I take no pleasure in punishing you, in fact, it saddens me deeply that today I have been proven right.” Merlin truly meant that, like it or hate it, the guy was still his knight, he was still his man. “You will be happy to know that, as Crown Prince, I have not the power to permanently remove your knighthood, as it was granted by the King, however I can suspend it.”

The knights started moving behind Griogair, getting into formation. Two lines with three men each, positioned by rank in a way that put Merlin and Griogair at the center. It was the same position they took when somebody was knighted.

With everybody settled in their positions, Merlin twisted his wrist and raised his finger pointing towards Griogair’s chest.

Now, everybody from the Camelot Entourage has at least once seen a knighting ceremony, and surely, most have seen how it goes when such knighthood is removed. However, none of them has ever seen one to the likes of Essetir’s

As a Kingdom with magic at its throne, Essetir’s knighthood works differently.

The king doesn’t simply stand in a pretty room, says some inspiring words, wave around a fancy sword an BAM! you’re a knight, you may rise.

In summary, the knights are essentially bound, to the crown and to each other, by magic. It isn’t the type of bound that forcefully traps them without escape; they can choose to leave if they so desire. No, the bound is connection. It is brotherhood.

When Merlin twisted his wrist, it activated the bound. Only the King and his direct heir could activate the bound in such a way.

On every Essetir Knight’s, at the right side almost on their shoulders, now set a fist-sized symbol, a shield shaped blue light, with the Ambrosius crest. The same shield now also appeared on Merlin, except his was big enough to cover his chest completely.

The pretty crests weren’t the most impressive thing, though. For when Merling flicked his wrist, his clothes, too, changed. As the Crown Prince of Essetir, the activation of the bound by his hand is considered a matter of state; and as such, his clothes must reflect his position and his rank. That is why now, at the middle of the forest stood a Merlin in expensive looking clothing, a cape matching the ones of the knights, and most importantly, a silver circlet with blue and green gemstones.

End English not my first language

[dutifullyshamelessearthquake]

Cyno Thought I had at work today- 5 times Cyno ate something he shouldn’t have and didn't get sick as a dog, and one time he flew too close to the sun…

this isn’t a request or anything it’s just something I thought would be funny to think about lol. The various things through out their relationships that Cyno has eaten and tighnari is just…waiting for it to destroy him. Maybe checking in on him extra cuz “there is no way he ate that gas station sushi and feels fine??” Or! Like with each example, he gets away with it but with more and more side effects? Like the first two he Eats something sus and is fine no issues. The next one, he’s fine, but like maybe a little bloated, but he’s fine and it doesn’t seem to bother him. The fourth one he actually feels kinda gross after but it doesn’t make him sick at all and he’s still cracking jokes even tho Nari is like plz just rest??? And then ofc the fifth one is where all hell breaks loose. Idk I feel like there could be many shenanigans here to play with 🤣

also know you mostly write modern au but i could also see this working in canon au. Through out his travels Cyno comes back to nari and they do their normal check up post mission. Cyno reports what he’s had to eat and nari is just *surprised pikachu* sometimes the stuff he eats(old rations, bugs, mushrooms that probably are safer Cooked but I guess he gets away with it??) has him not having much of an appetite later or other minor symptoms but like..he doesn’t have the massively negative response Tighnari would be expecting. Until the fifth case, where Cyno stumbles home practically green…

I think it would be funny too if he’s fine eating all this weird stuff for survival, random plants and insects or whatever and the thing that gets him ends up being something very normal 😅 nari is ready to prepare all the antidotes for the surly hyper toxic mushroom he ate but nope. He just ate some bad tofu or something

there are Honeslty so many possibilities as to how one could tackle it too!! But that’s all for now byeeee

Alright I absolutely love this! It fits my interpretation of Cyno so well, it's so silly, but I love it. The thought of Tighnari just growing increasingly exasperated because Cyno's repeatedly getting away with eating the most bizarre things.

"Did you really just drink half a carton of expired milk, Cyno you're literally lactose intolerant??"

I love that. And I love the idea of sometimes he's fine, other times he might feel a little off or have a minor side effect, but he's still okay. ...until he inevitably isn't.

It's like his body decided "okay I'm done taking all the weird crap you put in my, I'm going to angrily rebel now."

Tighnari is torn, because he wants to gently scold Cyno and tell him I told you so, but he also just. wants to comfort him. because Cyno is really not feeling well.

He definitely gives him a gentle bonk when he's recovered though, and Cyno has to sit through a lecture about being more careful about what he eats. (But does he actually learn? Maybe for a month. Then the risk taking starts again, because this is Cyno we're speaking of.)

Also THAT LASR SCENARIO!! Modern au is my speciality but I absolutely adore that concept and I will be thinking about it a ton. Poisoning attempts, strange plants and insects, the most questionable shit, Cyno's body weathers them all, but a case of regular old food poisoning is what bests him.

I want to scream about this more but it is getting very late where I am and I should go to bed if I want to not feel like a corpse at work tomorrow. But I will rant about this again because I absolutely love this silly boy and his silly life choices and the consequences they come with.

[nothingunrealistic]

and what of 15 for kleinsen...

15. things you said with too many miles between us

“Nothing but hiking and yoga and kayaking and having to wear a dress shirt to eat inside.” The background of Jared’s end of the video call shifts from a rapidly receding doorway to a bedspread and pillows. “And I don’t even get my own room. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

“Hiking’s not so bad.”

“That’s just, like, your opinion, man. If I’m gonna be stuck in the Catskills with my parents for a week, the least they could do is get Patrick Swayze to show up.”

“Why Patrick Swayze?” Evan sits down at his desk and rifles through his memory. “I thought he died.”

“Because otherwise it’s not a Dirty Dancing homage. And yes.”

“It’s a what homage?”

“The movie. Dirty Dancing. ‘Nobody puts Baby in a corner’? ‘I’ve had the time of my life’?” Evan’s confusion must show on his face as clearly as frustration shows on Jared’s. “Do you watch anything other than nature documentaries?”

“I watch documentaries about other things.”

“Typical,” Jared mutters, as if he’s genuinely disappointed in Evan and not at all excited to add a new title to his mental list of Movies To Make Evan Watch When We Hang Out. (Well, he claims it’s a mental list. Evan suspects he has a spreadsheet.) “Are your finals done yet?”

“No. I still have two left.” And as he discovered last semester, finals for three college classes somehow require as much studying as eight high school finals. Especially when he’s studying by himself while Jared, whose semester ended a month ago, is on the other side of the state complaining about a vacation that’s rewarding him for making the dean’s list. That’s what Mom said Jared’s mom said it was for, anyway. Jared insists it’s because going away to college made his parents realize they missed having someone to order around.

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.” Evan shuffles through the papers on his desk one-handed. “Um. My mom looked up the place where you’re staying, and she said they had, you can throw tomahawks, as an activity.” He had the printouts about it just yesterday, where did they go? “That sounds cool.”

“Yeah, but they only have it twice a week, and we missed the Monday session, so Friday’s my last shot. And that’s if my mom doesn’t convince herself that I’m gonna cut my own head off throwing an axe.”

“Tomahawk.”

“Whichever. Besides, they have, like, safety precautions and training. But if we were here in the winter, she’d say we have to check out the ski trails. That shit isn’t supervised, and statistically…”

Connor hated skiing.

It pops into Evan’s head and stays lodged in there as Jared goes on about all the ways you can be horribly maimed while skiing. It reminds him that a year ago he was counting the days until graduation and wondering which of his classmates he’d ever see again, and a year and a half ago he was literally sick with dread waiting for either Jared or the Murphys to turn his world upside down by going public, and two years ago —

“…are you even listening to me right now?”

“No,” Evan says, then cringes. “I kind of zoned out. Sorry.”

“I kind of figured.”

“I was just thinking that, um.” That if a thousand things hadn’t happened just right, they wouldn’t be having this conversation. “I’m glad we’re friends again. Or still, or, however you think of it.”

“Uh, okay. Same here, I guess.” Jared rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand. For a while. They look pretty red.

“Jared, are you —”

“My contacts are probably expired,” Jared says quickly. “And the pollen here is insane. How am I supposed to see straight with a thousand trees jizzing in my eyes?”

“Gross.”

“But accurate.”

“I mean, not exactly —”

“If I wanted a botany lesson, I’d go on the nature tour again. And I wouldn’t learn anything this time.”

(send me a ship and a prompt and i’ll write a mini fic)