#have a fucking will it'll make things so much easier for the people you leave behind

[adhderall]

well as you can see besides being ugly as all fuck I'm also extremely bitter so that doesn't help at all in making me appealing. but it also comes with the territory you see, being treated as a hideous freak of nature for your whole life kind of does things to your psyche.

also going into shit in the tags as an extreeeemely jaded individual who's been on every side of the discourse and KNOWS it all VERY PERSONALLY so I know many people will find all sorts of different reasons to hate me (if they want ig) because I'm ~politically homeless~ at this point because I'm sick and tired of everything but whatever

(also fuck I ran out of space in the tags so another post maybe idk. )

[sniperct]

fun fact, if you live with someone and they die, even if your spouse is their legal, blood daughter, the probate court might still make you sell the house even if you have nowhere else to go and can't afford rent and you're already dealing with a mess of your own medical issues and resulting debt(which is an entirely different stresser we've been dealing with over the last year), just to cover their debts!

fun fact 2, I still have a bankruptcy on my credit report so guess how hard it's going to be to get a mortgage, which would be a lot cheaper then rent!

[eldritch-nightmare]

Can you make a scenario about how the pastas would react after an argument? Like, if the reader left to get some fresh air? (I crave angst)

-💫Anon

a/n: indeed i can my friend here's a healthy amount of (very mild) angst just for you. i'm so totally gonna use this idea in a future chapter for the silly lil scenarios book as well because uh angst. maybe the prompt got away from me just a little bit i won't lie.

how do they react after an argument?

includes: jeff the killer, laughing jack, slenderman, nina the killer, eyeless jack, jane the killer, candy pop, clockwork, ticci toby, nurse ann, x virus, kagekao, jason the toymaker, the puppeteer, homicidal liu, sully, the bloody painter, the doll maker, zalgo, and hobo heart.

warnings: the aftermath of an argument, relationship disputes, some of these are healthy and some of these are not, inconsistent length.

JEFF THE KILLER would honestly be more upset if you walked out after an argument. he's already upset enough as it is, so you turning your back to him and storming out just makes his blood boil. he won't follow after you, but he'll definitely disappear for the next few days. he really isn't the best at resolving arguments, no matter how small they are. and unless he really fucks up, then he isn't going to apologize even if he is in the wrong. he's jeff the fucking killer, what the hell does he have to feel sorry about? you should consider yourself lucky that he didn't gut you for pissing him off.

if you want to have any form of resolve to this argument, you'll have to force the conversation because he will actively try to shut you down. he can't. he literally can't. resolution is not something he is good at, and unless you're the one to apologize, even if you aren't the one who is at fault, he's just not going to let any of this resolve. does that make him an asshole? yeah, it does. does he feel guilty? just a little. does that change anything? no, not really.

LAUGHING JACK, similar to jeff, would feel more upset over you walking away from the fight rather than the fight itself. he can come off as pretty scary during an argument, especially if it's one where he feels like he's in the right. he gets frustrated easily, and he's just overall a very expressive person, so. and he can get pretty fucking mean if he wants to, so yeah honestly you needing to walk away makes complete and total sense and he knows that it makes sense but that doesn't make him any less upset.

he'll just blame it on his abandonment issues or something because seeing you leave just to go and calm down should not have hurt as much as it did. and he debates going after you but he ultimately decides it would be best if he didn't. he wants to resolve this though, and he'll try but it'll be painfully awkward because, i mean, yeah.

SLENDERMAN is, by default, a pretty scary being the begin with so i imagine an argument with it would be pretty unnerving. it isn't used to people arguing with it, that's for sure. i think it would be more amused than upset, seeing such a small being stare up at it as if trying to intimidate it... it's a cute sight to see, that's for sure. it'll keep that thought to itself, of course. it imagines that saying such a thing out loud may only make things worse.

slender won't be upset when you walk away. it understands that you're just going to cool off. it'll take this time to clear its own thoughts until the two of you are ready to talk again and clear up the tension.

NINA THE KILLER would be immensely frustrated seeing you walk away. she'll probably let out a groan and tell you to come back, but she won't follow after you. she understands that if the two of you kept arguing any longer, things would only get worse. she knows that, so she'll use this as a chance to calm down herself. nina gets over things easier than you would think, and if this argument wasn't over anything major then the next time you see her, she'll most likely be back to her usual self.

she'll probably be the first to apologize as well, even if she feels as if she's not the one at fault. she can't stand when you're upset at her, so just accept her apology so the two of you can move on, yeah?

EYELESS JACK is always viewed as mature and in control of his emotions. and he is. a little too in control if we're being honest here. for most arguments you guys may have, he'll keep his cool and will try to understand your point of view and where you're coming from. there are times, however, when the control he has over his emotions slips, and you get reminded that oh. your boyfriend is a cannibalistic demon that can literally kill you in the blink of an eye. he really doesn't mean to scare you, but it's definitely a good thing you choose that moment to walk away to cool off because he has to physically force himself to not go after you.

and once he calms down, he will apologize. it's a genuine apology, one written all over his face. he never wants to or means to invalidate you and your emotions, and he never wants to make you scared of him.

JANE THE KILLER would probably be the first to walk away from an argument, if we're being fairly honest. if this is richardson we're talking about, then she's definitely more mature about it and politely suggests that you both take fifteen minutes to cool off before continuing the conversation. she does it because it's one, a healthy thing to do for your relationship, and two, while she is heavily in control of her emotions, the liquid hate running through her veins enhances her anger and it would be really bad if she genuinely got angry.

if this is arkensaw, i think she'll be a little less mature than she would like. she portrays herself as someone in control of her emotions, but her emotions and her hatred are what drive her. she does her best to her burning-hot anger in check but if you two have an argument, then it's fairly difficult. if you walk away first, then it'll only serve to upset her more, but she won't go after you. honestly, she'll probably even avoid you in the coming days because her anger lingers. it always lingers.

CANDY POP thinks it's cute that this little argument of yours got you so worked up that you had to walk away from him. honestly hell yeah if i were you i'd walk away from him as well because there is simply no winning with this guy. worst man you could ever argue with, to be honest.

but as we all know, his mood can change in an instant with no warning so. one moment, he thinks you walking away from him is cute and adorable. the next, he's getting frustrated and following after you because you don't get to walk away from him, silly. haven't you realized that he owns you?

CLOCKWORK, while she has her own anger issues and tends to get easily frustrated by the smallest of things, does try her best to keep her emotions in check if you two ever have an argument. it's not easy, and there have been times when she's snapped at you, but she always apologizes immediately after.

you walking away would make sense. she understands, she knows that you both need to take time to calm down before things get too heated. she gets it. but depending on what you two are arguing about, doing so could only serve to make her more angry. it's... frustrating, really. she won't follow after you though, because she knows it's what is best.

TOBY would want you to walk away. he needs it, to be honest. he tries to avoid getting into arguments with you for various different reasons. arguing with you stresses him out more than he would like it to, and it reminds him of the hold you have on him. you walking away from the argument would give him time to clear his head and cool off.

once you've both calmed down, he'll probably be the first to approach you because he cannot stand the awkward tension that always lingers after arguments with people. he wants to clear the air so this can all just be water under the bridge. it'll be a painfully awkward conversation though. he's not good at... resolving arguments. never had a positive example, to be honest.

NURSE ANN struggles to speak, so i think she would try to avoid getting into an argument because she feels as if she won't be able to properly get her point across. but arguments are bound to happen sooner or later, even in the healthiest relationships. and ann, to put it simply, is a very angry person. she keeps that anger in check when you're around, but it's literally impossible to not slip up a few times.

since ann rarely ever vocally speaks, her anger is typically conveyed in her stares and her jerky gestures as she signs. you walking away is the smartest thing you could do in that moment, leaving her alone to stew in her always-burning anger that she'll choose to take out on any nearby destructible objects or some sad poor soul that just so happens to trespass at her hospital in the coming hours.

X-VIRUS seems like the type of guy who has never really been in any arguments, to be honest. maybe when he was at the orphanage he got into a few petty arguments between the other kids, but nothing that would warrant needing to walk away, y'know? and i definitely don't think he'd treat the argument seriously, brushing off your words and whatnot.

he only realizes that you were genuinely angry with him when you walked away. it's definitely like... a slap in the face that oh. i'm a fucking asshole. he's not really sure what to do in this moment, and he waits until you come back on your own to try and apologize. but he's not the best at apologies.

KAGEKAO wouldn't treat the argument seriously at all. at least, not at first. honestly, he'd probably purposefully get you even more upset just to get a reaction out of you. does that make him an asshole? oh, most certainly. he just likes seeing you feel anything towards him, even if it's anger. he likes getting a reaction out of you because it's him you're reacting to. and it's entertaining as well, though you don't need to know that.

when you walk away, he'll feel a little frustrated at not being able to see you but he won't follow after you. he knows when to stop his antics. shocking, i know. and, if you're lucky, he may even hold you in his arms once you calm down. it's his way of an apology, i suppose.

JASON THE TOYMAKER fucking hates arguing with you. you're his other half, so arguing with you makes him feel sick to his stomach because what if... what if you aren't the one? he likes you too much to lose you, so you have to be the one. he definitely seems like he'd try to keep the argument short, and he'll be relieved when you walk away to cool off.

you don't try to leave him afterward, even if he was at fault for whatever you two may have been bickering over. that's good, really. that means you want to stay with him, even if you two have arguments like this. that's... that's so good.

THE PUPPETEER can't stand when anyone argues with him, so yeah, any argument you may have with him will be horrible and tense and it will not be pretty. he has to be the one to get the final word. he has to be the one in the right, even if he isn't. you must be aware of this, right? i mean, you're (hopefully, i assume) willingly sticking around this guy, right? so you should know that there's no winning with him.

and you walking away is simply not something he'll take kindly to. it's something that'll more than likely get a how dare you reaction out of him. you're a fool if you think he's just going to let you walk away. no, he'll either follow after you, or he'll pull you back with his strings. the conversation isn't over until he says that it's over.

HOMICIDAL LIU definitely does try to avoid any potential arguments with you. to be honest, most of your arguments with him will more than likely stem from his almost blatant disregard for his health and safety when he's injured as well as his almost suffocating habit of needing to protect you and keep you safe. it's inevitable, even if it's something he tries so desperately to avoid. that desperation is what tends to lead to arguments as well, if we're being honest.

he's not upset when you walk away. honestly, he's glad that you do. he always feels pretty damn awful whenever you two fight, and he patiently waits until you're ready to pick things back up so you two can resolve things and move on.

SULLY listens to everything you say with rapt attention. the only thing that matters to him at that moment is whatever you two are arguing about. hell, he doesn't give a shit about the argument itself rather than what you say, the expressions you make, and your tone of voice. every little gesture or movement you make catches his attention. honestly, if you asked him what you two were arguing about, he'd just look at you with a slightly confused expression because he's already forgotten.

and when you walk away to cool off and get some air, he has to restrain himself from following after you. he forces himself to sit down and he bites his fist as his mind hyper-focuses on every word you said and the way you looked at him and just... yeah, he's already moved on from the argument he just wants to see your face and hear your voice again.

THE BLOODY PAINTER is definitely not someone you want to have an argument with, honestly. not because he's an angry person or scary to get into an argument with or anything like that, no. he's just... very apathetic. it'll feel like you're arguing with a brick wall rather than a person, and you'll maybe even feel as if he doesn't care about you or your feelings. he just stares at you, blank-faced and monotoned.

once you realize that this argument is going literally nowhere, you leave to calm yourself down and he stays behind. it's not that he doesn't care about you and your feelings, he does, truly, he just... well... i could go into heavy heavy detail about his apathy when it comes to arguments but to spare you the length of that, just know that he does care, he's just absolutely horrific at showing it. once you come back, he will apologize for not better expressing himself and for unintentionally invalidating you and your feelings. he'll be better, though it will take time for him to become expressive.

THE DOLL MAKER seems like the type of person who wouldn't handle arguments well, i think. he's a fairly closed-off person and has some trouble conveying his thoughts and feelings sometimes, so i think it would stress him out a bunch if he got into a fight with you. depending on how bad the argument is, he'll either try to diffuse the situation or he may get angry and make things worse.

the moment you walk off, vine will be throwing himself into work to both calm himself down and distract himself from any potentially needless thoughts. he'll certainly try his best to resolve the conflict with you once you've both taken time to calm down but it'll definitely be stiff.

ZALGO would be very amused if you try arguing with him over something. you, a silly little mortal that somehow managed to catch his interest, are trying to argue with him, an eldritch horror beyond human comprehension that literally creates chaos for shits and giggles? how adorable. he's not going to take you seriously at all, i hope you know that.

and even if you walk away, you won't exactly be alone. zalgo is always there with you, even if not physically. a part of him is stuck with you, so he's always able to watch you, to talk to you. he thinks you're being dramatic for getting upset over something that he deems to be so utterly insignificant. there won't be any form of conflict resolution with him, so don't expect any form of apology or empathy or anything of that sort.

HOBO HEART you gotta be careful with, i think. the last time he felt as if he'd been wronged by the person he loved, he tore her heart out. not to say he'd tear your heart out over a minor argument or anything like that, no, that would be pretty petty and... he doesn't really think he's a terrible enough person to do that. maybe. depending on how serious the argument is.

he'll be a little disheartened when you walk away because he would rather clear up the air and tension immediately rather than wait but he understood, somewhat, that it'd be better if you both took time to cool off before either of you tried to resolve the conflict hanging in the air.

[sammyofold]

Here's the second part of the wincest fic rec list! The fics are grouped together under overarching tropes.

(Part 1 | Part 2)

Case Fics

The Truth In The Lie by flawedamythyst.

Summary: Sam and Dean pretend to be gay lovers while they hunt a monster on a bus tour of Nova Scotia.

Pine Sweat by Goshen.

Summary: Sam and Dean get sent back to 1996 and go on a hunt with their teenaged selves. The kids don't know who they are.

this narrow room where life began by peculiarstate.

Summary: Everything Dean is, even all these years later, is still for Sam, only ever Sam, it beats through his blood more real to him than his own heartbeat, Sam, Sam, Sam. The common fucking denominator of Dean’s entire life. or Four years later, Dean has Sam back. Some things have changed. The main thing hasn't.

venti cup of poison, half-caf, long shot by darlingargents.

Summary: A string of murders outside Seattle seem to be connected by coffee. Sam goes undercover as a barista to try and get to the bottom of it.

Mercy by LaughableLament.

Summary: Sam’s rattled, hunting a ghost light in the aftermath of Dean’s reunion with Cassie—a woman so important, Dean disobeyed Dad for her.

Walkin' the Tightrope by non_tiembo_mala.

Summary: It’s 2036, and twenty years since Sam and Dean called it quits on hunting to take up a secluded, quiet life. Maybe Jesse and Cesar gave them the idea, but after Amara, they realized they’d done enough. And they wanted a proper life together even more. Known as Sam Wesson and Dean Smith to the residents of the nearby town they call home, Sam and Dean keep mostly to themselves, their immaculately kept ‘67 Chevy Impala, and their cabin in the woods. That is, until someone from their past tracks them down, desperate for help. Sam and Dean can’t say no, not when it’s their dear friend Jody Mills in deep trouble – she’s missing – but the wedding bands they wear make going back to their old life just that little bit more complicated…

The Things We Carry With Us by lovesrain44.

Summary: Sam and Dean are on the road, saving people and hunting things, like they always do. Dean discovers that Sam is attempting to turn himself into a monk, and so he does his best to get Sam laid. Sam resists because, of course, who needs to have sex with a girl when Dean’s around? It's about going on a roadtrip with your brother. It's about the food you eat, and the maps you follow. It's about the things you carry with you. (Takes place some time after Heart.)

On the Cover of a Magazine by teashopmuses (LJ).

Summary: Sam and Dean are called in to investigate the mysterious death of a model at a photography studio in Michigan. The only way for them to get in? Pose as models themselves – which is much easier said than done.

When It Crackles by lyra_wing (LJ).

Summary: A cult is rumored to be guarding the Fountain of Youth. Oh, and while investigating it, Sam and Dean get roped into getting married. Yep.

Always You, without time or space by benitle (LJ).

Summary: Sam and Dean leave New Paltz, a haunted painting and Sarah behind them, each thinking in their own ways it'll be the last time they do anything like that. It isn't long before a string of unexplainable deaths takes them to The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. Between frustration and brotherly fights, surviving more art than can be seen in a lifetime, a revenge killer and the mean city, their relationship is taken to a whole new level that neither of them had expected. But of course it's never that simple, because between all the emotional chaos, there's also a case to solve!

Swesson

A Case of Do or Die by RiverSongTam.

Summary: Former hunter Dean Smith and Men of Letters legacy Sam Wesson are working through the rigorous MOL initiation process as partners, an arrangement Dean isn’t too happy about at first. Both he and Sam worry about being paired with someone they’re so attracted to—and who’s obviously straight. As the boys work together, they become friends, both secretly fighting their feelings for the other despite days at the movies, hours of research, and nights at the Roadhouse spent in each other’s company. When Sam has a vision of Abaddon wiping out the Men of Letters on initiation night, the pair wind up fighting something even more terrifying. The Men of Letters aren’t going to die out on Sam and Dean’s watch—even if a misunderstanding about their feelings for each other happens along the way.

Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here by Zanne.

Summary: Dean Smith and Sam Wesson want to hunt some more ghosts. They go to the experts for some hands-on training, but can they fight the strange attraction between them?

Who Are You? (I Really Wanna Know) by orphan_account.

Summary: Ever since Sam Wesson moved to Ohio, he’s found himself in an exceedingly terrifying series of battles against his own brain—and the attractive man he keeps bumping into with the strikingly green eyes is Sam’s only clue as to why. Meanwhile, Dean Smith’s next promotion is practically in the bag until he starts stumbling over a succession of worrisomely inappropriate outbursts. The cute, but creepy IT guy who keeps leering at him really isn’t helping things either.

When We Kiss Our Scars Align by matchsticks_p.

Summary: Meet Sam Wesson. Meet a ghost. Meet more ghosts. Meet each other's parents. This is not how Dean Smith had imagined his life would go.

More than the dirt it takes to bury them by gorgeousnerd.

Summary: Sam Wesson doesn't usually run off with strangers to fight what lurks in the dark. But then, Sam doesn't meet people he dreams about - people like Dean Smith - every day. It's not perfect, but he's making a difference and getting closer to Dean, so what's not to love? Except the dreams he still can't explain. And the way he's starting to sweat and shake and itch for something he can't name. Something like demon blood.

How Many Floors to Realize by lazy_daze.

Summary: AU from the end of It's A Terrible Life, in which Zachariah decides to keep stringing them along a little while longer, because damn if they aren't somewhat entertaining, right?

Green Man by inalasahl.

Summary: Godstiel puts Sam and Dean back into the Sandover verse. It takes them some time to recover their memories.

Demon Dean

Welcome to Your Future by klove0511.

Summary: When Dean is suddenly pulled through time, he's confronted with a broken little brother a decade older than he should be. With Sam determined to send Dean back to his own time, will Dean be able to figure out where his present day counterpart is and fix things for Sam?

Come Close by AlulaSpeaks.

Summary: Dean may be a demon, but that doesn't mean he's stupid. In fact, he's just bursting with good ideas.

is there a word for bad miracles by withthekeyisking.

Summary: Dean comes back from Hell...different. But hey, it's not like Sam's the same as he used to be, either.

High Achiever by Agent_Hellcat.

Summary: Dean rescues Sam from Cole, his abductor. But does he have a hidden agenda?

Undeniable Dilemma by rosych33ks.

Summary: Dean stepped forward again, a strange kind of patience in the action, and Sam flattened himself back against the car, hands up, knife in the left just a useless afterthought at this point. “No, Dean, wait! You can— There’s something else we can do.” Dean sneered at him, but he just shifted his weight to his other hip, didn’t go for Sam again immediately, and that was something at least. “Oh yeah?” He said it like he was humoring him, probably thought he was letting Sam stall for his own amusement. “And what’s that?” Sam straightened a little, made himself look Dean right in the eyes, and most of all, did not let himself think. “You can fuck me.”

Ruin You by Mumble_Bee.

Summary: Cole fucks Sam with Demon!Dean watching from a devil's trap, snarling that anyone would dare touch what was his.

(Note: Trigger warnings for graphic depictions of rape and torture. Here's another version the author wrote where Dean is human. Same warnings apply.)

Alternate Events & Fix-Its

Away to Darker Dreams by brokenlittleboy.

Summary: Finally hunting on his own, Dean makes a trip to Stanford to visit Sam, only to find his little brother's gone missing. And when he finally does stumble upon him in a dark twist of fate, Sam is not the boy he used to be.

B-Side by phoenixflight.

Summary: Sam Winchester is a senior at Stanford with his whole life in front of him when he dies in a tragic fire. He didn't know what to hope for from an afterlife, exactly, but whatever it was, it wasn't his brother Dean, arrived before him.

Truth or consequences by rivkat.

Summary: What if Agent Henriksen gave Dean truth serum? Disinhibition and dirty talk.

120 - forgiveness by ani_coolgirl.

Summary: Dean reassures Sam that he did the right thing by putting down Samuel. Due to past events, Sam has a hard time understanding Dean's attitude. Conversations are had and misunderstandings are finally cleared up.

Brother's Blood by diana_lucifera, stormageddon.

Summary: When Dean goes missing on a hunt in New Orleans, John picks Sam up from Stanford to help look for him. (Pilot AU)

Always My Guide by Delanach.

Summary: After Dean goes to hell, Sam turns to Ruby but using his powers for the first time after tasting her blood takes away his sight. Bobby takes him in but it's not until Dean is pulled out of hell that he faces up to having to learn to live with a new reality. As for Dean, helping Sam relearn everything from the ground up gives him something to focus on. When Sam insists on tagging along on a simple salt and burn and they encounter a demon, they realize that Sam still has his powers, they are stronger than before, and he can sense other supernatural beings in different ways. When they are faced with the possibility of Lucifer rising, they must work together with Bobby and an angel called Castiel to stop it happening.

This is Ourselves (Under Pressure) by clex_monkie89 (LJ).

Summary: After Nightshifter, Sam and Dean hit the road. What follows is three months of fear and frustration with the FBI hot on their heels, trying to avoid the long arm of the law while still continuing to work. It's not easy; being on the run doesn't leave much time for breathing, never mind sleep, sex or any much-needed downtime.

Extra Gen Fics

What You Choose To Do With It by StarsandJellyfish.

Summary: Sam and Dean have finally got to a good place in their relationship, after the fiasco that was the few years Dean had the Mark. Now, weird things are happening all the time, and Sam has no idea what is going on or why. Dean is acting strangely, like he knows something Sam doesn't. Sam is just looking for an explanation that makes sense. Or five times Sam used his powers without knowing it, and one time he knew it and worried what Dean would think.

Red in Tooth and Claw by LilacLetter.

Summary: It’s the summer before Sam’s senior year. The brothers are stuck in New Mexico where their dad left them to their own devices. Sam and Dean are bored stiff in the searing heat… until a case comes along. It can’t hurt to check out the mysterious desert creature alone, right? Case-fic, pre-series, h/c.

Time held me green and dying by anyplaceisbetter.

Summary: Sam wakes up aged 9 and with zero clue who the weird man in the bed next to his is. They deal.

The Bonds of Brotherhood by authoressjean.

Summary: In the wake of Lilith's death and the apparent destruction of their brotherhood, Dean and Sam find there's an even bigger revelation than Lucifer rising, because Lucifer isn't in his Cage. Lucifer and Michael both Fell a long time ago and became someone new. Became human.

With Heaven and Hell gunning for them, and new/old brothers fighting beside them, Dean and Sam have to navigate the world as the archangels they used to be and the brothers they're desperately trying to be again. Their bonds of brotherhood aren't easily torn apart, though, and something their enemies would be wise to realize.

Customs of the County by TheMarvelousTolkienJob.

Summary: All Sam wanted was to be normal. Go to school. Make friends. Spend quality time with his family. Only, the universe seemed to be conspiring against him and even these simple experience were turning out to be anything but that. Instead, he gets a rigged school system, an absent father, and an upset brother.

A New Beginning by MonPetitTresor.

Summary: After Chuck and Amara make up, they reveal their new plans - and they're nothing like what anyone had expected.

For Your Own Good 'verse by mentholpixie.

Summary: “Don't worry, Dean. I'll be a good little soldier and do everything Dad says. Promise.” Sam doesn't know how right he is.

On Our Own by authoressnebula.

Summary: When Sam is fifteen, his dad makes a decision based on a dark future he was apparently shown by an 'angel': split his sons up and abandon his youngest to keep that future at bay. Dean refuses to let it happen, but if they want to stay together, there's only one option: run.

[hypnobrainwasher]

So you're a virgin...

but you're also reading this, a post from a rather sexually-charged and fairly corruptive blog on Tumblr, a place well-known for blogs of this sort, which means you probably aren't interested in staying a virgin all that much longer. And gosh, I hope you're 18, because if you're not, you need to leave; what I'm about to say is not for little ears.

(Also, the concept of virginity is absolute hogwash and needs to be relegated to the dustbin of history, but I digress.)

I see you. I see you in my likes. I know what you're about, and you're just about ready to admit it. It's there, right below the surface, just a whisper away from getting out. I know you. You want sex, but not just sex. Not the kind of sex girls typically have on their first time, the awkward fumblings of two inexperienced people figuring everything out for the first time, the kind where he awkwardly blows his load ten seconds in and you're left to wonder what all the hype is about for sex. Not that sex.

You want to get railed. You want to get used. You want to be FUCKED.

You're tired of being a slut online but a virgin in practice. You've thought this through. It's time.

Maybe he's a little older. Maybe a lot. You've always known where to find him. He's definitely experienced. He will make you cum with his mouth and then pound your pussy until you can't form a coherent thought. He'll blow your mind, but that's okay, you're tired of thinking. It's just easier to listen and please him, and that feels right. You'll do the things you fantasized about for so long. It'll be depraved and wonderful.

Maybe she is a little older, or a lot. She'll leave your legs shaking and questioning everything you know. She'll make you wonder why you didn't do this so much sooner. And she'll smile at you as you have another orgasm and let out a moan the likes of which you've never heard before, and call you a good girl, and you'll nod as you gasp for breath. She's right.

Maybe one person isn't enough. Maybe you need two. Maybe you want to be spit-roasted for your first time, finally used how you're meant to be used after all these years. Finally where you're supposed to be, full, pleasing, of service. Finally home.

Maybe two isn't enough. Maybe you have that older friend who has done stuff like this, who knows a guy, who knows a guy. Maybe you want to go really big, and you want to have a lot of sex for your first time, with different guys, and this friend sets it up. They all come over. They all cum all over. It's your dream, finally realized, and you have to share it. You just have to.

You'll come back here, sore, tired, but feeling amazing. You understand now what the hype is about. You want to share it all with us, because we're the only ones who understand who you are, the only ones who see you, really see you. And we'll be here, encouraging you to be the best version of yourself. The version you decided no longer includes being a virgin.

We're so glad you're here.

[hanniebaeee]

Crazy for you - Part 1

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warning: swearing, drinking, kissing, some touching MDNI

Genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst

Summary: You and your best friend's cousin, Hyunjin don't get along very well. This game of cat and mouse may be a disguise to hide your real feelings.

a/n: Everyone in the story is so petty! I wrote this ages ago, partly based on a dream I had😅 It's silly, but here you go 🤝 (also this series will have smut in the future, just letting you know.)

Part 2 , Part 3

You sigh impatiently, trying your best not to cry. The day couldn't get any more worse. All you could think of was the anger and hate on his mother's face. Her harsh words were like daggers to your chest. And on top of that, you were smashed against him right now, your bodies pressed together way too much for your liking.

'Jennie!! Make it FASTER!' You said to your best friend who was driving.

'I'm going as fast as I can, Y/N' Jennie said apologetically. 'Just hang on.'

'She's hanging on alright' Hyunjin said sarcastically,  and your blood boiled at that.

Hwang Hyunjin, your arch nemesis, was Jennie's cousin. You all were part of the same friends group since childhood and so, you were willingly or not, always around each other.

'It's not like I have a choice now, do I?!' You spat,  putting a hand against his chest and pushing him away.

'I'm sorry sweetheart, there's not use pushing me.' Hyunjin said, glancing behind him.

Jeongin,��Jisung and Minho lay drunk and asleep, all crammed together at the back of Jennie's car along with you and Hyunjin. Jennie's boyfriend Changbin was asleep in the passenger seat beside Jennie.

'It was so indecent of your mum to talk like that, Jinnie. And you didn't have anything to say?' Jennie asked, addressing the elephant in the room. 'When did Y/N ever try to seduce you? I mean you're at each other's throats ALL THE FUCKING TIME!'

'You think my mom would stop if I say so?' Hyunjin asked with a scoff. 'She's crazy. She would just insult her more.'

'She humiliated my best friend in front if everyone.' Jennie said. 'That's not OK'

You sigh again, turning your face away from Hyunjin. His mother hated you for some reason. You felt that most of it had to do with the fact that you weren't Korean and she was afraid of what people might say if he brought home a foreigner. And part of it was because she knew that there were things you both were hiding.

'Well, it can't be completely wrong. Mum must have seen something.' Hyunjin said teasingly.

'Hyunjin, you're on my LAST fucking nerve. Better stop right there.' You warn him, blinking fast to keep your tears from falling.

'Or what?' Hyunjin asked, moving closer just to piss you off.

He was so close, your chests were literally pressed together. Your hand was on his chest again, putting a gap between you two. You give him your best death glare and pinch his tummy so hard that Hyunjin screamed in pain.

'What the fuck?!' Jennie yelled as Changbin woke up with a start and stuffed his fingers into his ears.

'She pinched me!' Hyunjin said in shock. 'Oh God it hurts!'

'Serves you right for being an asshole, Hyunjin.' Jennie said, shaking her head.

You glare at him with tear filled eyes.

'I don't know if you are really that drunk or not, but YOU are the one who can't keep your hands to yourself, Hyunjin. Not the other way around. Tell your mummy that when both of you are in your right minds.' you hiss.

Hyunjin just smirked, biting his lip sensually.

'I love it when your so feisty.' he whispered, his hand slipping down to your thigh, and moving up under your dress. You grip at his hand to stop him.

'Please!!' You sob softly, the tears finally falling. Hyunjin moves his hand away quickly, a look of guilt and sadness clouding his handsome face.

'Y/N' he says, his hand coming up to your face, but you turn away. 'I was only joking.'

Jennie hit the brakes.

'What the fuck, Hyunjin?! Leave her alone!' she shrieks. 'It'll be easier to watch babies, I swear!'

'Let me out! I'd rather walk than sit here with your brother!' You yell, voice shaking.

Hyunjin just sighed and sat back, sulking. He didn't want you to leave. He quite liked being stuck to you. Jennie banged her hand on the steering wheel in frustration and said, 'Binnie, get your ass back there!  Come on to the front, Y/N.'

'Ew, no way! He's covered in puke!' Hyunjin whined. Which was why no one wanted to sit with him.

'Not my fucking problem, Hyunjin. Another word from you and I'm done' Jennie warned.

After exchanging seats, the remaining ride home was in silence. Hyunjin's eyes were fixed on you and his heart sank, watching you wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes.

He genuinely felt bad for what his mother had said. And he did confront her away from the crowd. He knew that his mother went out of her way to separate the two of you right from when you were at school. You never did anything to seduce him. Knowing his mother's dislike for you, you had always kept away from him. It was the hardest thing for Hyunjin. He loved you even without any kind of effort from your side.

The tension existing between you two wasn't a secret. Everyone knew that this wasn't just some stupid rivalry. There was so much more going on. But no one said anything because some things are better left alone.

You reached the apartment building and the boys helped their drunk friends to their feet. As Jennie went on to park the car, Hyunjin caught hold of your hand, as you tried to slip away.

'Look. I'm sorry for what mum said. I didn't pick a fight only because she can be real pain. I didn't want to provoke her, Y/N. She would've just insulted you more.' Hyunjin said. 'I'm sorry I didn't stand up for you.'

'It's alright.' You said with a nod. 'I know.'

Hyunjin nodded and watched you leave in silence.

You and Jennie shared an apartment and the boys, another, on two different floors. But you always met for your meals, mostly at the boys' apartment. The next morning, when you woke up, Jennie had already gone to Hyunjin's to cook breakfast.

After a quick shower, you joined her. As you passed Hyunjin's room, you saw the door was open, and he was sprawled on his bed in his pyjamas, still asleep. His shirt was pushed up, exposing his tummy. A purplish bruise had formed where you had pinched him the other day. You didn't mean to do it so hard, and now felt bad about it.

After watching him snore softly for a moment, looking so innocent and angelic, you walk away. You enter the kitchen to find Jennie pouring coffee into mugs.

'Can you please take this to Jinnie and wake him up?' Jennie asked as she returned to cooking. The bacon that she was frying looked way too burnt at this point.

'Not a good idea. Not this early in the morning' You said, shaking your head no and nibbling on a piece of the burnt bacon.

'Please sweetheart.' Jennie said pouting, and you sigh.

'I know what you are doing Jennie Kim.' You said in a sing song manner.

Jennie just gives you an innocent look as you pick up the mug and walk to Hyunjin's room. Placing it on his bedside table, you touch his arm to wake him up.

'Hey.' You call softly. 'Wake up, Hyunjinnie!'

You pause as you cringe at the way you said that. But he opened his eyes slowly and seeing you, he sat up, smiling.

'Am I dreaming?' he asked, his voice hoarse from sleep.

'Ok. Come on, up.' You said, trying to distract yourself from the way he is looking at you. 'Jennie asked me to wake you up.'

He nods with a sigh, taking the mug in his hands. You begin to walk out when he stops you.

'Are we good, Y/N? ' he asked.

You turn to look at him with a frown, but end up nodding quickly and escaping the room and his puppy eyes.

Jeongin, Minho and Jisung were awake and terribly hungover. Jennie shot them all looks of disgust as she brought breakfast to the table.

'Stop looking at me like that!' Minho whined. 'People make mistakes sometimes!!'

'Lino, you puked all night, do you remember?' Jennie asked, with her arms on her hips.

'Of course I know, I'm the one who nearly puked my intestines out!' Minho said, resting his head on his hand. 'I'm sorry!'

Jennie sighed and said, 'Innie?'

'To both my noonas, I'm really sorry I got carried away!' he said raising his hands in surrender. 'Sorry!'

'I'm not even starting with you Hannie.' Jennie said. You giggle, loving how Jennie managed to make three men shiver under her glare. Jisung pouted, sipping on his lemon tea.

'And Hyunjin.' Jennie said sarcastically. 'You don't even have to be drunk to be a pain in the ass.'

He grinned showcasing all his teeth, his eyes two crescent moons.

'i try my best.' He said, winking at you, and you roll your eyes at him.

'Honestly, Jinnie, if you can't keep you hands to yourself, why don't you just ask her out?!' Jennie snapped at her cousin.

'Jennie!!' You hiss, poking her on the rib.

'I'm sick of you both always bickering like some old married couple! it's so damn annoying!' Jennie said. 'Just give each other a chance at least!'

'It won't work!' You said, shaking your head. 'Jennie, stop.'

Jennie knew of your feelings for Hyunjin and she really wished that you would just get together, since she knew her cousin felt the same.

'I want you both to try.' Jennie said. 'I'm tried of seeing you both eye fucking each other every time you're in the same room. It's disgusting.'

'I don't deny it.' Hyunjin said confidently.

'Oh my God!' You cry. 'Why is your family set on humiliating me all the fucking time!?'

'You're my best friend and he's my brother. I need you both to get along. I'm so sick of your constant disagreements. I want you to try dating. It could seriously work out.' Jennie pressed on.

'I agree with Jennie Noona' Jeongin said.

'You guys can always stop if you want.' Jisung offered, while Minho was too hungover to make a meaningful comment.

'Hyunjin.' You plead.

'I'm ready if she's ready.' Hyunjin said with a shrug.

Jennie grinned, knowing her cousin's deep dark desires. She turned to you with hopeful eyes.

'Your mother is going to throw a fit about it.' You warned Hyunjin. 'You know that! She'll never allow it!'

'Who cares about what his mom thinks?' Jennie dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. 'We know that you both like each other. This is about you. Not us or anyone else.'

'I decide what I do with my life, Y/N. Not mum.' Hyunjin said, seriously. 'You don't have to worry about her.'

'You can say no, you know.' Jennie challenged you, with a smug look. 'No one's stopping you.'

You shrivel at her words. Of course, no one was going to stop you if you say no and walk out. But this is what you really wanted. You've wanted Hyunjin all your life. You were crazy in love, to say the least. You could say no. But you didn't want to. Hyunjin just looks at you, bottom lip between his teeth and it felt like he was holding his breath.

'Ok.' You said. 'Ok, I will give it a try. But if he puts one toe out of line, -'

'I won't' Hyunjin said, quickly. 'I really won't.'

Knowing his ways, you weren't so sure. But you still nod.

'I'm so happy!' Jennie said clapping. 'Finally. I've waited for this day for so long!'

'Congrats Hyunjinnie and Y/N noona!' Jeongin said giving you both a cute smile.

'Let's not make this more awkward now.' Minho said. 'Let them be.'

You give Minho a grateful look before your eyes fall on Hyunjin. He sat with his eyes on you, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. The rest of them went on doing their own things leaving you two alone in the room.

'So, girlfriend.' Hyunjin said, teasingly. 'Come here and gimme a kiss.'

You shoot him a glare, making him laugh.

A month later:

It was movie night at the boys' apartment. Changbin and Jennie shared a couch, and you and Hyunjin shared another. The rest of them had put sleeping bags on the floor and they were all settled to watch the movie.

Hyunjin had draped a blanket over you both. It has been more than a month since Jennie pronounced you a couple, but you were still a bit awkward with it. It made you so sad that even though you held hands and cuddled and went out on dates, none of it felt real. Hyunjin didn't irritate you like he usually did. But that was all.

Hyunjin, who was usually a very confident person, felt like everything was out of his control. He had wanted this for so long, but now that it was actually happening, he was scared. He didn't want to lose you in any way. You were so perfect in his eyes, he felt that he wasn't enough. He felt this was why you never really told him anything important or even look at him with affection.

The movie was going pretty well, until some steamy scenes came by. You feel Hyunjin's fingers intertwine with yours and he slowly brought them up to his lips. You blush at his sudden display of affection.

Hyunjin moved closer, his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your heart raced and you throw a quick glance at Jennie's way. She and Changbin were huddled together, whereas the others were already asleep.

'Jinn-'

Hyunjin's lips were hot against your own. You feel butterflies in you stomach as he tilted his head slightly for better angle. Your lips moved together in synch and his free hand slipped under your night shirt, cupping your breast over your bra. Your grip on his arm tightened as he squeezed gently.

His lips trailed down your neck, pressing soft warm kisses on their way. You close your eyes, engrossed in the feeling. But your eyes snapped open when Jeongin's raspy voice called out your name.

Hyunjin stopped and sat still. You turn to look at Jeongin who had his eyes still closed.

'Can you please get me some water?' he mumbled sleepily and you sigh in relief.

Hyunjin is up on his feet, taking your hand and walking towards the kitchen. Pulling you into his arms again, he kissed you, this time more demanding than before. You pull back to breathe and he watched like a predator looking at his prey. He stepped closer and kissed you again. His hands wandered, over your chest and sides, before cupping your butt through your shorts. He pulled you as close as he could.

You were shocked and you gasped as you felt him against you. You gently put a hand to his chest, to stop him. Shaking your head, you try to step away. Hyunjin looks at you, but not that lovesick look he gave you a few minutes ago. You heart thudded on heavily as you remembered the last time you had seen this look of utter heartbreak on his face.

This wasn't your first time with Hyunjin. The last time it happened,you were at one of Kim Mingyu's famous parties, back in highschool. You were all drunk (for the first time in your case) and Hyunjin was all touchy (what's new?). He had dragged you to one of the bathrooms where you got into a very heated make out session.

You were terrified and it was your very first time letting a boy touch you like that. You had pushed him away, even though you have loved it. He had looked just as heartbroken back then. Being rejected by the love of his life hurt like hell.

You never spoke of it, and somehow all the frustration of never being able to go back to that moment and being too awkward to try it again led to your constant battles. You're both quiet, each reliving the memory.

'Do you not enjoy it?' Hyunjin asked, trying to remain calm.

You are surprised by this question.

'What sort of a question is that?!' You ask, giving him a glare.

'Why do you always push me away? Are you really not interested?' He asks, and you just stare at him in silence. 'Is sex a problem?'

'Hyunjin, are you really that stupid?' you ask, trying to understand what he's saying.

'Is that why you haven't been with anyone all these years?' He asks, folding his arms against his chest.

'How does that concern you?' You retort, embarrassment hitting you hard.

Hyunjin laughs and says, 'Thanks to my sister you have me.'

'I can get any guy I want on my own Hwang Hyunjin! I don't need you or your sister for that!  It's my choice if I see people or not!' you said furiously. 'I don't like to fuck around for fun like you do!'

Hyunjin scoffed.

'Why do you ruin everything, Hyunjin?' You ask. 'That was a good moment we had.'

'Was it?' Hyunjin asked, shaking his head. 'You were dying to push me away.'

'You know what, fuck you!' You said, making your way out.

'I dare you to find someone who's actually interested in you!' Hyunjin said suddenly.

You turn to look at him, the hurt clear on your face.

'YOU are breaking up with me?' You ask, raising your eyebrows.

'I never said that.' Hyunjin said, a pang of guilt (and fear) hitting him.

'Well, good. Because I am breaking up with you.' You said, a single tear escaping your eye before you left the room.

Hyunjin stood watching you leave. He knew he had said too much. He had provoked you, though he promised that he wouldn't. But he was really hoping to take things forward. Your rejection had just hit him in the wrong way.

You tossed the bottle to Jeongin on your way out of the apartment. Tears ran freely down your cheeks and you couldn't hold back your sobs anymore.

It was too good to be true, you thought.

[jetii]

Too Sweet

Part One | Part Three | Part Four

Pairing: Fox x fem!Reader / Fox x Doctor!Reader

Words: 6,162/26,525

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, strangers to lovers, grumpy/sunshine, Fox is a little anxious/paranoid, and he needs a hug, lots of awkward flirting in this part, smut in part 4

Summary: Fox has no time for romance. He doesn't even have time for sleep, let alone dates. But when a horrible day at work leads him to you, he suddenly finds himself in danger of reevaluating his priorities.

A/N: Okay, I think I have the rest of this fic pretty much set, except for the final edits to the smut. Part 3 will be up on Wednesday and part 4 next Sunday!

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

A week passes, and the wound in his shoulder heals without any complications. There's no need to see you again, and Fox is relieved. The more time that passes, the easier it is to forget about the interaction, and he soon manages to put it out of his mind entirely. He’s far too busy to dwell on things that don’t matter, and he has better things to focus on.

He still thinks about you, though.

It’s hard not to. He passes GMF every day, and sometimes he finds himself staring at the building wondering if you're working. You'd seemed to enjoy your job, and he finds himself hoping that you're doing okay. But then he reminds himself that it's none of his business, and he walks away.

Another week goes by, and the stitches dissolve, leaving nothing but a faint scar. Fox isn't sure how to feel about it. It's not the first scar he's gotten, and he doubts it'll be the last, but for some reason, he can't stop looking at it. It's strange. The wound was minor, and the injury is no longer bothering him, but there's something about the scar that intrigues him.

He doesn't like it.

It's a reminder of his failure, and the fact that he had been injured by a common criminal. It was embarrassing, and the fact that he still remembers your smile only makes it worse. It shouldn't have happened, and he was supposed to be better than that. He was supposed to be the best, and a scratch like this should have never occurred.

He spends his days obsessing over the incident, trying to figure out where he went wrong. There had to be a way to avoid a repeat performance, and he's determined to find it. The new security system has arrived, and he throws himself into his work, spending hours studying the plans and the documentation. He ignores his brothers' concerns and pushes himself harder than ever before, refusing to accept anything less than perfection.

After a week, he's finally satisfied, and he announces the changes to the Senate guards. He receives several confused looks, but no one questions his orders. He's the commander, after all, and if he wants things a certain way, that's the way they're going to be. It doesn't matter what the others think, as long as the job gets done.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?" Fox asks, looking up from his datapad to find Thorn standing in the doorway, a scowl on his face.

"Don't give me that."

"What's the problem?"

"The problem is you," Thorn says, pointing at him. "You've turned the Senate building into a fortress."

"So?"

"You've doubled the number of guard patrols," Thorn continues. "We've already had to reroute half the traffic, and people are getting mad. You can't just keep making these changes without talking to us first."

"It's my job," Fox says, his voice cold. "And you're not in charge, I am."

"Don't pull rank on me," Thorn snaps.

"Then don't question my decisions."

Thorn glares at him, his expression hard. He's clearly angry, but Fox doesn't care. He's doing his job, and his brother doesn't have the right to tell him how to do it. He's the one who has to answer for the safety of the Chancellor, and he's not about to let Thorn interfere.

"What's gotten into you?" he asks, his shoulders dropping, and the anger in his voice is tempered by concern. "You're acting weird."

"I'm not," Fox says, frowning.

"You are," Thorn insists. He steps into the room and shuts the door behind him. "I know we don't see eye-to-eye all the time, but something's up with you."

"There's nothing wrong," Fox says, his tone flat. He looks back down at the datapad, hoping that Thorn will take the hint and leave. There’s already a new message from the Chancellor, and he wants to get started on his report.

"You've been acting weird ever since that incident," Thorn says.

"What incident?" Fox asks, not looking up.

"The knife attack.”

"There were lots of knife attacks," Fox says, his voice flat. "You're going to have to be more specific."

“The one where you got stabbed, di’kut. It was two weeks ago, remember? When we had to go to GMF—“ Thorn stops abruptly, his eyes widening.

"What?" Fox snaps. He doesn't like the look on Thorn's face. It's the same expression he gets when he's solved a case, and it never means anything good. "What is it?"

"I just realized something."

"Realized what?" Fox asks, his patience running thin. He's tired and hungry, and the last thing he wants to deal with is another of Thorn's conspiracy theories.

"Why didn't I think of this sooner?" Thorn says, ignoring him, and he chuckles to himself. He walks over to the window and looks out, his expression thoughtful. "It's so obvious."

"Thorn—"

“This is about the doctor, isn’t it?”

Fox stiffens, and he stares at Thorn, his mouth falling open. He hadn't expected his brother to be so blunt, and the question catches him off guard.

"What?"

"Don't play dumb," Thorn says, giving him a look. "You've been obsessed with that incident ever since it happened, and I know for a fact that you've been avoiding the medical center."

"No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have," Thorn counters. "I've seen you turn around three times when we've walked past it, and you keep finding excuses not to go there."

"I'm not avoiding anything," Fox grumbles. He knows that Thorn isn't going to drop the subject until he answers, and he lets out a sigh, setting down his datapad. "It's not about the doctor. It's about the injury."

"I don't buy it."

"You don't have to."

"Fine," Thorn says, crossing his arms. He looks at Fox for a moment, his gaze scrutinizing, and then lets out a breath. "But for the record, I think you're being an idiot."

"So you've said."

"Yeah, well, maybe you'll listen this time."

"I doubt it," Fox mutters, and he picks up the datapad again. The screen is blank, and he taps at the controls, trying to remember where he'd left off.

"Why are you so set on torturing yourself?" Thorn asks. His voice is quiet, and the question takes Fox by surprise. He looks up at his brother, frowning, and he sees that Thorn is watching him with a worried expression. "You can't keep going like this, Fox."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Thorn says. He walks over to the desk and sits down in the chair across from Fox, his elbows resting on the surface. "You're working yourself to death, and it's not going to make a difference."

"It will," Fox insists. "If we can—"

"It won't," Thorn interrupts. "I know you're worried about the Chancellor, but he's not going to disappear overnight. He's not in any more danger now than he was a week ago."

"We can't afford to let our guard down," Fox says, his voice strained. "You know that."

"I do." Thorn nods. "But you can't keep going like this. At least take a break. Go to a bar. Relax."

"There's too much work to do."

"I'll cover for you."

Fox sighs and looks down at the datapad again, the words blurring together. He can't focus, and the report isn't going to get done anytime soon. Thorn is right, as much as he hates to admit it. He's been working too hard, and it's starting to take a toll. But the thought of stopping makes his chest tighten, and he feels a surge of anxiety. If he stops, what's going to happen? What if something goes wrong, and he's not there to stop it? What if—

"Fox."

"Yeah," he says, letting out a shaky breath.

"Just take the rest of the night off." Thorn leans forward and gently pries the datapad from Fox's fingers. "You need to rest."

"Fine," Fox says, and he feels his shoulders slump.

"Good."

"But not a word of this to the others," he warns.

"I won't." Thorn smirks and stands up, walking over to the door. "Just promise me you'll try and have a little fun, okay? No matter how boring you think it is."

"Yeah, yeah."

Thorn leaves, and Fox lets out a sigh, sinking into his chair. He rests his head in his hands, rubbing his temples, and closes his eyes. The darkness is soothing, and he lets out a slow breath, trying to calm his nerves.

He's been feeling off for a while now, and the conversation with Thorn had only made things worse. The stress is starting to get to him, and he knows that he needs a break. But the thought of stepping away from the office, even for a moment, fills him with a sense of dread. He's afraid that something will happen, and he'll be too far away to stop it. But deep down, he knows that Thorn is right. He can't keep going like this. Something's got to give.

Fox’s stomach growls, painfully reminding him that he hasn't eaten all day. The sound snaps him out of his thoughts, and he looks up, blinking. He's been sitting here for hours, and the sun has gone down. It's late, and his body is screaming for food and sleep.

He stands up and stretches, his back popping, and heads for the door. The mess hall at the barracks has long since closed, and his stomach grumbles again, louder this time. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, wondering if there's a ration bar left in his locker. Probably not. Maybe if he takes a walk, he can find something. There's bound to be a 24-hour café open somewhere, and if he’s lucky, they'll have something edible. He hasn't eaten actual food in weeks, and the thought of having something hot and fresh is almost too tempting to resist.

He steps out of his office and makes his way down the corridor, passing the rows of empty desks and abandoned terminals. Thorn’s office light is still on, and when Fox passes by, his brother gives him a thumbs up and a smile. Fox rolls his eyes, and he keeps walking, his feet carrying him down the stairs and towards the exit.

The night air is cool and refreshing, and he takes a deep breath, letting the chill seep into his bones. The streetlights are on, and the traffic has thinned, but the city is still bustling with activity. People are milling about, and he can see a few clusters of troopers on patrol. It's a familiar sight, and it brings him some comfort. At least here, he knows what to expect.

He walks for a few blocks, keeping his head down and his eyes forward. He doesn't want to draw attention to himself, and the last thing he needs is another confrontation with a citizen. He's tired, and the thought of having to explain himself is enough to make him cringe. It's better to just avoid it altogether.

Fox rounds a corner and pauses, his eyes scanning the crowd. There's a small diner tucked away between two buildings, and the smell of spices wafts out from the doorway. His stomach growls again, and he walks towards the entrance, pushing the doors open.

The diner is small and cozy, and there's only a handful of people inside. They're scattered throughout the room, and most are seated at the counter, chatting with the droid serving them. Fox takes a seat near the door, as far away from the other customers as possible, and pulls off his helmet. His hair is sticking up, and he quickly runs his fingers through it, trying to smooth it down. He's not sure why, but he suddenly feels self-conscious, and the feeling unsettles him. He's usually more composed, but today has been rough, and he doesn't want anyone to see him like this.

He orders a cup of caf, and as soon as it’s placed in front of him, he downs it in a single gulp. It's strong and bitter, and the warmth spreads through his chest, calming him. The exhaustion is still there, but at least the headache was starting to fade. He orders a second cup, and he sips it slowly, letting the steam warm his face as he turns his attention to the menu. 

Most of the dishes listed are foreign to him, and he’s so absorbed in trying to decipher the strange names that he doesn't notice someone settling one stool over from him. The smell of lavender is subtle, but unmistakable, and a flash of white has him turning his head before he can stop himself.

It’s you.

Fox nearly inhales his caf, and you look up from your datapad, startled.

"Commander?" You blink a few times, seemingly as surprised to see him as he was to see you. The surprise on your face quickly morphs into concern, and you frown. "Is everything alright?”

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Fox says, taking another sip of caf to cover up his embarrassment.

"Are you sure? You look a bit...frazzled," you say, eyeing his hair.

He winces, and his free hand shoots up to smooth down his unruly curls again. Your gaze follows his movements, and then you smile, and the sight is like a punch to the gut.

"Just a long day," Fox mutters, glancing away. He stares down at his cup, tracing the rim with a gloved finger, and tries not to think about the way his heart is hammering in his chest. He can’t believe that of all the places in the city, you’re here, and the realization that you'd seen him make a fool of himself again has him wishing the floor would swallow him whole.

"I understand that," you say. Your smile fades, and you let out a sigh, tapping the datapad. "Unfortunately."

He glances over, curious, and sees that the screen is filled with rows of data. There are charts and graphs, and what appears to be an inventory list. It doesn't look like anything fun, and the thought that you might have a stressful job, too, intrigues him.

“What brings you out this late?” he asks.

You look at him, your eyebrows raised. For a moment, he worries that he's overstepped, but then you smile, and his worry melts away.

"Same as you, I suppose," you say, and he can hear the exhaustion in your voice. You sigh and set down your datapad. “My shift doesn’t end until 0400, but I needed a break from the medical wing. Sometimes, the smell of bacta gets to me."

Against his will, a laugh bubbles up from his chest. It’s short and rough, like gravel under his boots, but he can’t help it. He tries to cover it up by taking another sip of his caf, but you don't seem offended, and when he looks at you again, you're smiling.

"I hear that," Fox says, his lips twitching. "Something about it just..." He shudders, the thought of the thick, gel-like substance making him gag.

"Exactly," you say, nodding. "It's like melting plastic."

"Or glue," Fox says. He pauses for a moment, his brows furrowing, and he shakes his head. "Actually, maybe it is glue."

You laugh, and the sound is so bright and clear that it startles him. He didn’t think he was capable of making anyone laugh, and the fact that he had made you do so twice is baffling.

"Oh, stars, don't remind me.” Your nose scrunches up, and you let out a soft groan. "I can't tell you how many times I've had to peel my scrubs off and throw them away after a long day."

"I can only imagine," Fox muses, trying to picture you without the scrubs. His mind goes to a place h didn’t expect, and his cheeks heat up. He looks away, suddenly fascinated by the pattern on the countertop.

"I suppose it’s not so bad," you continue, oblivious to his distress. You tap your fingers on the counter, and then turn towards him. "You know, I heard a rumor that you were afraid of medics."

"I am not," Fox scoffs, frowning. He looks at you, and your expression is serious, but there's a twinkle in your eyes that tells him you're not entirely sincere. "I just have a healthy respect for those who can take me apart and put me back together again.”

"A healthy respect," you echo, grinning.

"Yes."

"Is that why you ran out of GMF like you were being chased by a Nexu the other day?" you ask, and there's a teasing note in your voice that makes his stomach flip.

"No," he mutters, looking away. 

He can feel his face burning, and his embarrassment is only making it worse. You'd noticed. Of course you had. And the fact that you'd actually thought about it, that you'd cared enough to bring it up, is both flattering and mortifying. He'd been hoping that you would just forget the entire incident, but apparently, you were more perceptive than he'd realized.

"Right," you chuckle. "Well, you're braver than most, I'll give you that. Most troopers don't set foot in the med center unless they're dragged there by their brothers."

He can't help but chuckle a little at that. If only you knew how close to the truth you were.

"So, if you're not afraid, do you mind if I join you?” you ask, gesturing toward the empty seat between you. “I promise not to dissect you, Commander."

Fox hesitates, his stomach clenching. You're asking to sit next to him. Why? It doesn't make any sense, and he's not sure what to say. It's a simple question, but it feels like there's a hidden meaning behind it, and he can't figure out what it is. But, the hopeful look on your face and the inexplicable need to please you is making it hard for him to say no.

You must mistake his silence for refusal, because your smile fades, and you pull back a little.

"It's okay if you don't want to," you say, and your tone is apologetic. "I just figured, since we're both here..."

"No, no, I'd like that," Fox says quickly, scooping up his helmet and setting it on the counter beside him. He gives you a small smile, and you beam back at him.

"Great!"

You stand and move to the seat between you, and Fox finds himself leaning back a little, not wanting to be too close. But when you settle into the stool, the scent of lavender is stronger, and he relaxes, allowing himself to enjoy it.

"I thought maybe I was bothering you," you admit.

"You’re not," Fox says, and he means it. Your presence is actually calming, and he feels the tension in his shoulders ease a little. He takes a deep breath, savoring the smell, and then realizes what he's doing and quickly stops. He picks up the menu and studies it intently, trying to distract himself.

You don't say anything, and he can feel you watching him. It's unnerving, but the feeling isn't entirely unpleasant, and he allows himself a few more seconds before he looks up at you again. When he does, you quickly turn away, a light flush dusting your cheeks. It's oddly endearing, and Fox has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

The waitress droid returns and pours you a cup of caf before refilling his. You thank her as she leaves, and you pick up the cup, taking a sip. You let out a sigh, and your eyes close, a satisfied smile forming on your lips.

"This is perfect," you murmur, taking another sip. "I needed this."

"It's a necessity in my line of work," he says, his tone dry. "I'd be dead without it."

"You're telling me," you say, smiling at him, and you rest your chin on your hand. "I had to get three cups before my shift started just to feel human again."

"Three?"

"Don't judge," you say, laughing. "It's been a rough week."

"I wasn't judging," Fox smirks. "Those are rookie numbers, doctor."

“Rookie, huh?" You raise an eyebrow. "And how many cups would you say a seasoned pro could drink, Commander?"

"At least four." His smirk widens, and you roll your eyes, shaking your head. But your smile never falters, and Fox feels a little surge of pride. 

The way you seem so relaxed around him is surprising. Most civilians are put off by his presence, his harsh demeanor and stoicism, the fact that you aren't afraid of him makes him happy, and the warmth in his chest spreads through his body, filling him with a strange sort of euphoria.

"Well, I think we've established who's the true caffeine addict here," you tease. “You better eat something, or your heart is going to explode."

“Is that your official medical opinion, doctor?" he asks, his tone dry.

"It is," you say, giving him a pointed look.

He can't help but chuckle at your seriousness, and the way your brow furrows as you pretend to scold him. It's cute, and he finds himself enjoying it more than he should. 

He shouldn't be so comfortable around you, and yet he can't seem to stop himself. Something about you just draws him in, and the longer he spends in your company, the less he wants to leave.

"Then, I guess I'd better order something," Fox says, smiling.

“You better," you say, and the sternness in your voice is ruined by the way your eyes sparkle.

The two of you lapse into silence, and Fox takes the opportunity to study you. Your eyes are fixed on the menu, and you’re chewing on your bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. Your hair falls around your face, and you absentmindedly tuck a strand behind your ear. You're beautiful, and the thought comes unbidden, but Fox doesn't try to fight it. It's true. You are beautiful. And you're talking to him, of all people, even after how he treated you.

It's surreal, and the fact that you seem so content, so happy, to be in his company is baffling. He can’t stop the questions from swirling through his mind. Why would someone like you want to spend time with him? What could you possibly get out of it? Surely, there had to be some sort of ulterior motive, some scheme or plan. Maybe you were spying for the Separatists, or working with the Black Sun, or—

"Have you eaten here before?" you ask, interrupting his thoughts.

"No, I haven't," Fox admits. "I don't really eat out much."

“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” you say, and you grin at him. The gesture is so sincere, so full of warmth and joy, that his heart skips a beat. "They have the best seallia sandwich here. I've been coming here since I started working at the GMF."

"I'll have to try it, then," Fox says, returning your smile.

The droid returns, and the two of you place your orders. When she leaves, the silence settles over the table again, and Fox fidgets, not sure what to do. He’s not normally one for small talk, or any talk, really, but something about your presence makes him want to reach out, and the fact that he doesn't know what to say is frustrating.

He glances over, and the look on your face is thoughtful, almost sad. You're staring at the counter, your chin resting in the palm of your hand, and the corners of your mouth are turned down. 

You look exhausted, and the sudden realization that you're probably as tired as he is hits him like a bolt of lightning. He has no idea how much longer your shift lasts, or how long it's been since you've gotten a decent night's sleep, and the thought of you suffering fills him with a strange sort of guilt.

"Long day?" he asks hesitantly.

"Yeah," you sigh. "I've been trying to get this grant application finished, but it's not going very well."

"Why not?"

"Well, the money is for a new surgical wing," you say, and you shrug. "But the bureaucrats at the hospital board don't seem to think it's worth the effort."

"What's wrong with the old wing?" Fox asks, frowning. He's familiar with the building, and the idea that it might not be up to par is unsettling. If it's not safe, then the lives of his men could be at risk. "Is it not up to code?"

“No, no, nothing like that," you assure him, and he lets out a relieved breath. "It's just...not very modern."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the equipment is outdated, and the space is cramped," you explain. “With the amount of refugees flooding the planet, we're already at capacity. It's only a matter of time before we hit a breaking point, and if we're not prepared..." You trail off, a frown on your face, and you shake your head. "I don't even want to think about it."

"I see," Fox says, and his stomach twists into knots. He's seen the crowds of refugees, the lines of injured people waiting outside the medical centers, and the thought of what would happen if things got any worse is terrifying. There’d already been one riot, and the city was becoming increasingly unstable. It was only a matter of time before something snapped.

"Sorry, I shouldn't be complaining," you say, giving him a small smile. "I know you've got a lot on your plate."

"It's alright," Fox says, his voice soft. The guilt he feels whenever someone mentions the state of the planet is starting to build, and he has to resist the urge to apologize. He knows it’s not his responsibility alone, and yet, the burden is his to carry.

"Thanks," you murmur, and the gratitude in your voice is startling. You offer him a warm smile, and the knot in his stomach loosens, and the guilt recedes. "I'm sorry, I don't usually get to talk about this stuff."

"Why not?"

"My co-workers aren't really interested in listening to me complain about the state of the medical system. They think I’m being paranoid." You sigh and run a hand through your hair. "And they're probably right. We're doing everything we can, and there's only so much we can do with what we have."

"No, I understand," Fox says. His own brothers aren't much better, and he can't count the number of times he's had to deal with their complaints and gripes. The fact that they can't see the bigger picture, the danger lurking just beneath the surface, frustrates him. "Trust me."

"It's nice to hear someone else agree," you say, and there's a wistful note in your voice that makes his heart ache. You sound lonely, and the urge to reach out, to comfort you, is nearly overwhelming. But before he can do anything, the droid returns with your food, and you sit up, smiling. "Thank you."

The food is placed in front of them, and Fox stares at his plate, a little taken aback. The sandwich is massive, and it smells amazing. His stomach growls, and he takes a large bite, closing his eyes as the flavors explode in his mouth.

"Good, right?" you ask, grinning.

"Yes," he says, and he lets out a sigh. The sandwich is the most delicious thing he's ever eaten, and he quickly devours it, savoring every bite. You seem amused, and you watch him with a faint smile on your lips, eating your own food much slower.

The silence between the two of you is comfortable, and Fox is surprised by how easy it is to just sit and enjoy the moment. Every once in a while, you look over at him, and the way your gaze lingers sends shivers down his spine. He can't help but stare back, and the two of you exchange small smiles before returning to your meals.

It's silly, and a little childish, but the warmth in his chest grows with every glance, and soon, he's actively trying not to grin like an idiot.

"So," you say, wiping your mouth. "How's the arm feeling?"

"It's fine." He glances down at his pauldron, and then back at you. "You did a good job."

"That's what I'm here for," you say, laughing.

"I'm sorry I didn't stick around," Fox says, wincing internally at the memory. "Things were pretty hectic that day."

"Don't worry about it," you say, waving him off. "I'm just glad you're okay."

Fox looks at you, his eyebrows raised. You're staring at him, and your expression is genuine. There's no anger or resentment in your eyes, only concern, and his throat tightens. No one's ever looked at him like that before, and the thought that you care so much about his wellbeing is shocking.

"I appreciate it," Fox says, his voice low. He pauses for a moment, and then adds, "And thank you, again, for not dissecting me."

The words sound ridiculous, even to his ears, but the joke seems to work. You snort, and the sound is so unexpected that he has to bite back a laugh.

"Well, I did promise," you tease, grinning.

"That you did."

The two of you fall silent again, and this time, it's more noticeable. The noise of the diner fades, and the sounds of traffic from outside are replaced by the pounding of his heart in his ears. The warmth in his chest is still there, and he tries to ignore it, focusing on his meal instead.

He's almost finished when a thought occurs to him, and the words leave his mouth before he can stop them.

"I could help you.”

You look up at him, confusion written on your face.

"With the grant," Fox continues, his voice growing strained. He hadn't meant to offer his assistance, but now that he's started, he can't seem to stop. The ideas are pouring out of him, and the need to please you is making his skin prickle. "I know some people, I could put in a word for you."

"Commander—"

"Fox."

"Sorry, Fox." You let out a nervous laugh and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "That's very kind of you, but I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking," Fox points out.

"True, but..." You trail off, and a crease forms between your brows. He can tell that you're hesitant, and he wonders if perhaps he'd crossed a line.

"Forget it," he mutters. "I shouldn't have—"

"No, no, it's not that," you interrupt, shaking your head. "I just don't want to take advantage of you. You have a lot on your plate, and I don't want to add to your workload."

"It's not a problem," he assures you. "My duty is to the people of Coruscant, and if there's something I can do to help, I should do it. It's my responsibility."

"You're not responsible for the whole city, Fox," you say softly. Your brows knit together, and you look so sincere, so earnest, that he can't stop the wave of affection that crashes over him. "You can't fix everything."

"I can try," he shrugs. "And I think the Chancellor would agree with me. It's a good cause, and it could benefit a lot of people."

"The Chancellor?" you ask, blinking. "You'd talk to the Chancellor?"

Fox tries not to scoff. Of course, he'd talk to the Chancellor. He talked to him every day, multiple times a day. Sometimes, it seemed like the only thing he ever did was talk to him.

"I'm sure he'd be happy to hear about the medical center's needs," Fox says, his voice flat.

"That's..." You pause, and the look of surprise on your face melts into something else, something softer, and his chest tightens. "You're sweet."

"I'm not," he mutters, his face heating up. Sweet? What did that mean?

"Yes, you are." You laugh and lean forward, a playful smirk on your face. "And if you insist, I'll take you up on your offer."

"Okay," he says, nodding. He picks up his cup and takes a sip of his caf, hoping that it will hide his blush.

"I'll send you my contact info," you say, smiling at him. "And maybe we can get dinner sometime. To discuss the proposal, of course."

"Of course."

"You pick the place," you add, your eyes sparkling. "And this time, don't run off."

"I promise," he says, and the corners of his mouth lift into a smile.

The two of you exchange frequencies, and the conversation quickly turns to lighter topics. The stress of the day, the exhaustion, and the anxiety seems to fade away, and Fox finds himself relaxing. He's actually enjoying himself, and the knowledge that it's because of you is both comforting and frightening.

It's late by the time you finish eating, and the streets have emptied. You pay for your meal, despite his protests, and the two of you step out into the cool night air. The moon is high in the sky, and the traffic has quieted, but the city is far from silent.

"I guess I should be going," you say, letting out a sigh. "I need to get back."

"Right," Fox says.

The two of you stand in front of the entrance, and Fox fidgets, his hands gripping the edges of his helmet. He's not sure what to do, and he's surprised by the sudden reluctance he feels. The thought of saying goodbye, of walking away, and not seeing you again for who knows how long, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Let me escort you," he blurts out.

"I...what?"

"It's not safe for you to walk alone this late," Fox explains. He gestures towards the street, and the faint shadows between the street lamps. “The city is dangerous at night."

"Fox," you say, a slight smile tugging at your lips. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"I know," he says, his voice soft. “But it would make me feel better."

"If you insist," you chuckle.

"I do."

"Well, how can I refuse, when you ask so nicely," you tease, and he gives you a small smile.

The two of you walk side by side, and Fox's eyes are drawn to you. The streetlights catch in your hair, and the faint glow highlights your face, casting shadows on your features. You look radiant, and the urge to reach out and touch you, to brush the stray strands of hair from your cheek, is nearly overpowering.

But he doesn't. Instead, he tucks his hands behind his back and follows along, trying to memorize every detail.

The GMF isn't far. Soon, the two of you are standing outside the entrance, and he's almost disappointed. The walk had gone by too fast, and the thought of going back to the barracks alone, back to his empty room and his empty life, makes his chest ache.

"Well," you say, and he's startled to find that the two of you have stopped. "I guess this is where we part ways."

"Looks like it."

You turn towards him, and his breath catches in his throat.

"I had fun tonight," you say, smiling up at him.

"So did I," Fox admits. He hesitates, and then adds, "I'm sorry if I was rude when we first met. It's not often that civilians are so...welcoming."

"Well, it's a shame," you murmur. You step closer, and the smell of lavender surrounds him. His heartbeat picks up, and he's suddenly acutely aware of how close you are. "They're missing out."

"I wouldn't be so sure," he says, his tone dry.

"I would," you say firmly. You reach out and touch his arm, your hand warm even through his armor, and the contact sends a shock through his system. "Thank you, Fox."

He swallows thickly and nods. "Anytime."

"I'll comm you about the grant," you promise, and you squeeze his arm. "Have a good night, Commander."

"You, too," he manages, and then you turn, and disappear through the doors.

He stands there for a moment, watching the door, and a strange sense of longing fills him. It's not the first time he's felt lonely, and the feeling is familiar, but there's something else, something new, that accompanies it. He can't quite name it, but the warmth in his chest spreads through his body, and he lets out a breath, his shoulders slumping.

Maybe Thorn was right. Maybe he'd just needed to take a break. But the way you'd made him feel, the warmth and joy, was something that had never happened before, and it's a feeling that he can't let go.

Maybe things are starting to change.

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[crafty-butch]

Embalmed

A short story by me (tw: body horror, self-harm kinda)

Did you know embalming isn't actually that common, worldwide? I didn't. Sure, there are some famous exceptions–looking at you, pharaohs–but embalming random schlubs is mostly a US thing. Plenty of religions ban it outright. Islam, Judaism, several branches of Christianity…

Bear with me. I promise I have a point.

Anyway, I've got no opinion on what God wants us to do with our corpses. I've never been religious. I'm still not, weird as that sounds. But I'm with Islam, Judaism, and several branches of Christianity on this one. Just skip the embalming and bury the body before it starts to rot. It'll be easier for everyone, on the off chance someone decides to bring them back.

No, this isn't a joke. Look, I'm not saying it's likely, okay? I know the stats. Less than twenty confirmed resurrections in the last half-century. Maybe twice that many ambiguous cases. Actually ambiguous, that is. Just because someone is flaired “unconfirmed” on r/Resurrected doesn't mean there's a chance in Hell they're legit. So, yeah, I get it's unlikely. But let's jump back to embalming real quick.

You know how it works, right? At least vaguely? Blood goes out, formaldehyde goes in. Well, that's step one. Step two is sucking all the non-blood fluids out of your body cavity and swapping those for embalming fluid too. They also sew your mouth shut, stuff some cotton in you to stop any leaking–I could go on, but I won't. Like I said, I don't have any issue with embalming from a treatment-of-the-dead-body standpoint. I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad for embalming Great-Aunt Edith, here. I'm just saying, if the dead body becomes an alive body, you can see why there might be some issues.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're going to say: “It's magic, dumbass.” And, yes, it is. That's why waking up with your mouth sewn shut and your body stuffed full of formaldehyde doesn't immediately kill you again. Doesn't make it fun, though.

Okay, maybe I shouldn't focus on the mouth thing. I'm sure it's happened to someone, but my sister cut the stitches out before she brought me back. She was thorough like that. I just feel like it's easier to picture, you know? Mouth won't open and hurts when you try. The rest of it's harder.

I don't blame my sister for not dealing with the formaldehyde. I know there wasn't much she could do about it. If she'd had more time, I'm sure she could've come up with something, but once you've dug up a body, you're kind of on a (ha) deadline. If someone sees you, you're done. So I get it. I've had a lot of time to think it over, and I'm still not sure what she could've done better. Other than just letting me stay dead.

I don't want to sound ungrateful, but…maybe I am? A little bit? I know that's an awful thing to say. It's not like I wanted to die. That's not what this is about. It's also not about how super amazingly great the afterlife is. Sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea. I don't remember anything between the hospital and waking up on the grass with a chest full of embalming fluid. Does that mean there's nothing after? Or did coming back just give me amnesia? No idea. I leave that one to the philosophers.

My sister probably would've had an opinion.

She was always…

Let me tell you about my sister.

She was great. I'm not saying this because of what happened. She really was incredible. Almost perfect. One of those people who's so smart and so kind and so beautiful and so goddamn humble but not so humble you can even accuse them of humblebragging, to the point where you can't help but hate them a little for making you look so fucking shitty in comparison and then you feel like the biggest bitch in the world and that just makes you hate them more.

Okay, maybe she wasn't quite as perfect as all that. After I came back, I learned some things. Turns out she was just as much of a fuckup as me, in her own way. She was just better at hiding it. But I never met that version of her. In my memories, she's still just Little Miss Impossibly Perfect. I wish she'd told me about any of it. Maybe…

No, that isn't fair. Why would she tell me anything that could get her in trouble? Maybe I would've hated her less, or maybe I would've just gone and told our parents. Even once we grew up. Would I really have been able to resist knocking her off that pedestal? I'd like to think I would, but come on. Look how I'm talking about her. And that's after she sold her soul for me.

If you're thinking right now that the world probably would've been better off with her instead of me, you're not the only one. Don't worry, I won't take it personally. Or maybe you're not thinking that at all. I've been told I project onto other people.

Maybe you're just confused about why I'm talking about her in the past tense. After all, it's not like selling your soul kills you, and you've probably never met someone unensouled. Or maybe you have, and you know exactly why I'm talking like this. Probably not, though. There are a lot more unensouled than there are people who were resurrected–people sell their souls for all sorts of reasons–but there are a lot more fakers too. Pro tip: if someone claiming they sold their soul gives any sign of caring about literally anything, including whether you believe them, they're lying to you.

So, yeah, she's still here. I know I keep saying it, but I'm not religious. I don't think my sister is burning in Hell while her empty husk sits up here, and if you ask me, that's just a real convenient excuse not to help the person who's still right there in front of you. Whatever a “soul” actually is, there's clearly someone here.

Sorry, I might be preaching to the choir here. And I don't want to sound like I think every religious person thinks that way. I just made the mistake of talking to my parents this weekend, and I'm still a little mad. Or a lot mad. Look, I know I'm getting off topic. Just, real quick, I want to explain.

She's still my sister. I'm not denying that. I keep saying she was this or she was that because she's not really any of those things anymore. She's not cruel, but she doesn't care enough to be kind. I'm sure she's still smart, but she doesn't actually want to use her smarts for anything. She barely eats if I don't pester her into it. I don't think she'd have an opinion on what my lack of memory says about the afterlife anymore. But, hey, maybe she would. Maybe I should ask.

Anyway. None of this is really my point. My point is, waking up next to your own open grave is freaky enough when you're not choking on formaldehyde. It took weeks before I was mostly bleeding blood again. (Yeah, I checked. Don't judge. You'd be curious too.) I coughed up embalming fluid for months. My insides still don't feel quite right. I could get them checked out, but I'll be honest with you. I don't want to know. I haven't been anywhere near a doctor since I got back.

I know, you don't think this will happen to you. No one you know is the right combination of smart enough to wade through all the bullshit to figure out how to revive you and stupid enough to go through with it. And you're probably right. But I thought that too.

[thechekhov]

Chekhov Reads Dungeon Meshi: CH46

D....dark Laios?

I mean, you DID consent!

The fact that ghosts can pass through walls and take other things with them... it kind of elicits another type of organism. Like, what can pass through cell walls? What other parts of the body can just yoink stuff from one place and bring it to another?

Congrats! It's all just been a dream!

I'm sorry what the SHIT?!?!?

Well, I-- .... yeah, I GUESS.

Though it looks more like one of those carousel horses.

I think this is probably still inside the dungeon. Very... DEEP. Inside the dungeon.

What? WHAT?! These things are like regular animals down here???

Oh, I--hm. I see.

Ordered by WHOMST?

Is this just an entire society of (humans??? ghosts?) that lives here in the dungeon deep? Is there still a king under the mountain? Are the rumors of the king dying not true at all?

........or are these people and descendants of adventurers who came in but were never able to leave? And the fact that Senshi points out that none of them are old.... are they ageing?

Laios, Senshi n--...... welp. There they go.

Bless this man and his absolutely non sexual obsession with monsters. But.

Izutsumi, who is a human-level intellect beastkin (though she's low on wisdom and patience....) is being very.... beast-ly and soft here. She's being magically compelled, presumably, to chill the fuck out.

Which means all these monsters are also under the same effect? Isn't that a little fucked up? They're basically under a permanent drugged effect.

Also. Hm. 'short lifespan' is....relative. Short lifespan compared to what? Immortality?

Orcs know this place exists....?

These people planting things for fun means they're absolutely trapped here like spirits.

Keeping up appearances for. Whom.

These poor people have no new incomers to talk to, huh.

Oh, I uh---- ................ hm. THat's not at all what I was imagining either.

Fashion is cyclical after all I guess....

Mmmmm. Mmmm-hmmmMMM.

WHEEEEZXE

Knowing I've finally hit these two absolutely iconic panels... amazing.

......I guess it can only do so much to make her docile...... she still doesn't like Laios.

Why does he look familiar...?

....so Derghal had a son. And a grandson. So then why is there a bid for the throne...?

Laios. Laios, is milking the minotaur the ONLY thing you did? Or was there more to it? Laios.

It's interesting. That bartender said he was 600 when he started his now-400 year old ale. So. That means they're 1000 years old.

That means that they're about as long lived as elves? Haven't gone mad yet. But that's still a long time.

That's kinda worse, yeah, but a loss of the self is a type of death, in a way...? So....

The most throwback of all time.

Actually, I feel like that's been there for a while, although it didn't always look EXACTLY like a lion's head. I feel like the little living armor he keeps in there made it that design? But how would it do that on purpose?

this is what it looked like some chapters back. Yeah, it's been sculpting into a lion's mane for a while now.... Ohohohoh playing the long game are we? 👀

Ah, it's not a wolf. How tragic for you, Laios. It'll never work out.

Also, damn, those wings sure be lookin like Falin's very non-dragon wings. What a wild coincidence. I'm sure that doesn't mean anything. :)

laughing hysterically. This poor guy can't get a break. He's been running from responsibility and inheritance for his entire life and it still catches up and trips him purposefully.

There is definitely a certain amount of tragedy there, yeah. These people aren't asking Laios for help because it's easier. They're legitimately stuck in a nightmare scenario. Unless you're someone who can get pleasure from other avenues, living all that time without the basic needs will drive a person mad. Elves live just as long, presumably, but they're still able to eat, I assume.

I'm honestly more surprised they're all as sane as they are.

.......King of Forgor.

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3

----

Towards the end of the summer after his freshman year, he finds out that his soulmate must be a year younger than him, because he gets I'm not nervous about starting high school, and that - hmm. It takes Eddie a bit to figure out how to reassure him around that. High school sucks, and he's guessing it's probably going to suck for his soulmate as much as it does for Eddie. The only saving graces are that Eddie was actually able to get a DnD club started, and Kyle Housen - the absolute shithead who was the most popular boy in school, the king of all the jocks who sent his followers out like ringwraiths to torment anyone who was different - is graduated and gone.

Eddie actually is looking forward to being able to breathe easier without him around.

So that's what he tells his soulmate - find something you enjoy doing, stick with your friends, and remember if there's someone in the grades above you who's really annoying, they'll be gone before you are.

That means a lot to me shows up on his chest after that, and Eddie runs his fingers over it again and again, not thinking about who his soulmate was talking to or what they were lying about, just that Eddie means enough to them for them to make sure that appeared on his skin.

It gets him through the rest of summer and into the first few weeks of his sophomore year, until he realizes that while Kyle Housen may have graduated, some of his little sycophantic friends didn't, and a few of them are more than happy to take over the torment of the freaks.

It makes Eddie's blood boil.

"It makes absolute total fucking sense the way rich kids and jocks and all the society conforming jackasses just run this school, like little violent monarchs," he says to one of the members of Hellfire as he throws himself down onto their lunch table, purposefully making himself sound as sincere as possible so it'll get picked up as a lie. "I love this whole the king is graduated, long live the king shit they've got going on."

Eddie doesn't expect an immediate answer. He doesn't usually get one, especially when he springs stuff on his soulmate in the middle of the day. But he doesn't get one that night, or the next day, or the day after that.

And just.

What the fuck? Is his soulmate one of them? Eddie'd just assumed - a kid that had to lie about his injuries, parents never around, feeling lonely, cheating the system to talk to his soulmate before they even met - had to be a fellow freak, right?

Shit.

He thinks about saying I care that you're one of them, but he knows that isn't a lie, and it wouldn't appear on his soulmate's skin.

He doesn't say anything.

Eventually, I'm not sorry things are the way they are shows up, curled in tiny letters around Eddie's ankle, but it doesn’t make him feel better.

It makes him remember that his soulmate is talking to someone - or maybe multiple someones - when they do this, someone unaware that what he's saying are lies. The same thought that had made him feel special before now makes him think a little harder, makes him realize that his soulmate is friends with these people. These people who agree with the things that his soulmate is lying about, who think that his soulmate believes them - that's who he chooses to spend his time around?

Part of him knows it isn't fair. It's not his soulmate's fault that Eddie had built up this idea of him - a fellow outcast, maybe in a small town like this, going through the same things Eddie was, just waiting to graduate and leave it all behind, go somewhere bigger and louder and better.

But most of him is just too damn hurt. Most of him doesn't want a soulmate that says the kind of things his soulmate says, surrounded by people who think they aren't lies, and who love him for it.

Most of him can't stomach the thought that his soulmate is just like the people who have it so damn easy at school, and seem determined to make his life more miserable anyway.

The silence on his skin is as deafening as it is telling, and he starts to wonder if maybe his soulmate can't stomach the thought of it being someone like Eddie, either.

One night, so what if I don't think we should just wait until we meet our soulmates? appears on his side, and Eddie runs his fingers over and over and over it.

And says nothing.

"Haven't heard you talk about your soulmate in a while," Uncle Wayne says casually a week or so later.

Part of Eddie'd been expecting Uncle Wayne to bring it up somehow, but the other part was doing his best to ignore it entirely, leaving him entirely unprepared for what to say. He can't say that he doesn't want to talk to his soulmate any more because he found out they're probably some popular rich kid stomping around whatever school they're haunting - it's true, but it sounds stupid and petty.

He can't lie, either, though, because then it'll show up on his soulmate. So he says nothing, mulishly pushing his peas around his plate.

Uncle Wayne watches him. It's probably pretty easy to figure out that something went wrong with Eddie's hairbrained little scheme, so he isn't too surprised when his uncle hums softly.

"Some people are very different at thirty than they are at fifteen," he says, his gruff voice gentle. "Sometimes, teenagers are little jackasses with no impulse control."

Despite himself, Eddie huffs out a laugh. He considers that for a long moment, then reluctantly admits, "I guess that's probably why most people don't try to talk to their soulmate early." He smashes some peas with his fork. "….I guess it's probably not fair the other way, either. If you have this great idea of them way before you meet them, and they're really different."

Uncle Wayne gives another hum. "Sounds pretty wise, if you ask me."

"I didn't," Eddie points out, just to be contrary, but he eats the peas he'd been playing with, and he does feel a little better about all of it.

Time goes on.

He and his soulmate don't talk anymore, but that doesn't mean things don't occasionally appear. It's not often - which makes Eddie wonder if his soulmate just doesn't lie often, or if he's specifically avoiding lying as much as possible to avoid talking to Eddie - but it does happen.

Little things, mostly, lies about doing homework, about being sober, about not driving without a license. Teenage stuff, the same stuff Eddie lies about, and it lulls him into a sense of boring predictability. He perfects playing the guitar, he turns Hellfire into a sanctuary for those like him, he finds an alternative revenue source that gives him even more of an advantage over the shitty jocks than being scarier than them had, and he counts the days until he can get out.

Until the summer before his senior year.

I'm not in love with her, geez!

Eddie stares at it for longer than he should, the sting of tears biting at the corner of his eyes and feeling so goddamn angry about all of it. Not only is his soulmate some popular rich kid, but he's straight, in love with some girl, fuck.

Maybe Eddie isn't meant for a romantic soulmate. Maybe platonic is all he'll ever get, maybe someone like him doesn't -

Fuck this.

Fuck everything.

He throws himself into guitar playing, into making his next campaign for Hellfire bigger and better than anything he's ever done before.

Just one more year, and then he's gone.

In Eddie's senior year, Steve Harrington - Hawkins High's current reigning royalty - and his right hand man Tommy Hagan have some kind of falling out. Eddie honestly doesn't give a shit what or why. He keeps an eye on the situation only enough to know if they're gonna have some kind of civil war shit that could bleed shrapnel onto his flock. But Hagan doesn't seem to have the constitution to challenge for the throne - or maybe he lacks the numbers, considering Harrington doesn't seem to be hurting much as he swans around the school with Nancy Wheeler at his side - and whatever their mess is stays in a building tension amongst the popular crowd.

It's kind of nice, actually. There's less gossip about Hellfire for a little while, until the masses adjust to the new status quo. Hagan seems meaner, somehow, but he also seems less confident now that he's not at Harrington's side. It means his comments are more cruel, but there's less of them, so whatever, it balances out.

His soulmate tells more lies that year than Eddie's seen in such a short period of time, and something in his stomach twists tighter and tighter.

Yeah, of course I'm all right, why wouldn't I be?

It's nothing.

I'm sure they'll find her soon.

I'm fine.

I'm fine.

I'm fine.

Taglist: @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186

-----

Part 4

[scenetocause]

would like to hear your thoughts on what girl!oscar would think of Lando in a club wearing an australia hat 😳

ha well. fic unde the cut

The first thing she notices isn't what Logan's messaging her about. Which she finds out when "omg I fucking hate those sunnies" gets an eyeroll emoji and a long typing response.

Surely you haven't got him so whipped you don't even notice when he's switching nationalities for you yet?

And no, yeah, she does. Notice it. It's not like Valtteri or whatever, becoming an honourary bogan. Lando couldn't pass for Aussie to save his fucking life, he's possibly never (at least as far as Oscar can tell) experienced "chilling out" and throwing a shrimp on the proverbial barbie would have him shrieking.

But Lando's started deliberately checking on Australian sports. He clearly has no idea what most of them are but makes an effort to natter to her about them, when they're wasting time in their driver room and both in danger of getting antsy before whatever media drivel they're scheduled into.

He's a lot smarter than people give him credit for, generally but especially when it comes to something he's concentrating on. Lando knows more about Australian politics than she does, now. Has views about wildlife conservation Oscar tries to keep up with, endorse the wildfire prevention and recovery fund the Quadrant outback drop donated to.

He even googled foods from Melbourne and discovered pigs in blankets is something they're both easily into eating a secret box of, smuggled from Tesco to the weird little flat they sometimes stay in in Woking

Think that's for Keegan not me dude

This time Logan takes no time at all to send back lmao and as if followed by never change Oscar.

She just sends back I really do hate those sunglasses, they make him look like Alonso before we were born. Lando's style is his own business but Oscar reserves the right to take the piss out of it when he deserves it. And only abuse the media team's access to Getty Images a bit when he wears something really hot into the paddock.

"Wow, harsh," the man in question declares, reading over Oscar's shoulder. "I think they're quite cool."

"You think clubbing is cool." She rolls onto her back, lets him snuggle down on top of her. They probably ought to get dressed soon, for the jet back from Ibiza. If they're late they might get sent to fucking Marseille again and as wank as it is having complaints about private jets, Oscar's not keen to repeat that.

Making a woman wait 10 hours for her post-win fuck is inhumane, no matter the mode of transport.

"Yeah." Lando sounds oddly melancholy about it, makes her tighten her arms around him and leave a space for him to carry on his sentence.

It's a few long beats before he does. "Prefer just hanging out with you, though."

They've talked about this, that they're becoming a bit insular. Don't spend as much time with their other friends, doing their separate hobbies, as they used to. It's rare Oscar wakes up without someone who loves her, understands her instantly, in the same bed.

It's not a bad thing. Or at least, it shouldn't be. People on TikTok make out like they're never apart and body language freaks on YouTube say they're tired of each other but they're not. The more time they spend together, the easier it is. The harder it is to imagine how they exist apart.

Just as well, really, if they're getting married. Makes her bundle Lando up against her, like even imagining what separating them would be like is a thought crime she needs to protect him against.

It's pretty sweet, being Oscar Piastri, this time.

"I don't want to take the plug out," Lando mumbles into her armpit. "Do you think it'll set off the scanner things?"

Probably not. Silicon isn't metallic and they're not likely to cavity search him.

"Won't you be all," she tries to gesture what he's like when he's wriggling. "On the plane."

Lando thinks about it for a second, then tucks himself into her, looking dangerously like he's about to fall asleep. "Nope. Not if you cuddle me."

"I'll take it out when we get back to the flat." She has no idea if he'll last that long or get squiggly and end up doing away with it in the tiny bathroom on the jet.

"You can put something bigger in." Lando's hand engulfs hers, where he wraps them together but Oscar can get the jist of what he's asking for. Kisses his hair, to hide how much she's squeezing her thighs together, wet and hot at just the thought.

And maybe a little bit for the engagement ring on his finger, biting hard and solid into the pulse point of Oscar's palm.

[drinker-of-paint]

those docs are sick as hell. did you use posca markers? comma also anything to seal the design on?

So I'm not an expert by any means but I'm happy to share my research

Also I wore them out and about on a misty rain day today and they seem to have held up but only time will tell

So from the research I did custom designs like this work best on certain types of docs (it said 'smooth leather' was best, and there was one that it absolutely doesn't work on so deffo look that up to be sure not to ruin your docs if you already have a pair you're thinking of decorating) I'm not really sure if mine count as smooth leather cause they're kind of matte and they might have been talking about a specific type but anyway- that's something to keep in mind.

Next said to prep the area you're painting. There's a few things you can use but i ended up just wiping some nail Polish remover (in place of rubbing alcahol) over the area with a cloth and leaving it to dry for a minute (don't go overboard with it though- you want to find the happy medium of taking off some of the oils so the paint can bond with the surface but not so much that you leave the area looking damaged or drying out the leather too much, that can cause long term damage)

I played with some designs and placement of the different eye sizes in my sketchbook before I was ready to brave putting paint on these brand new doc martens 😂

May have been a me thing but I do recommend it so you're as confident as possible with what you want to do every time you put the pen down. Depending on the type of fabric you can use tissue or a cotton swab with more rubbing alcohol to correct mistakes with posca but I couldn't find anything that worked for mine so I was just really careful.

Next unless you're really brave it's probably a good idea to use a soft pencil to draw the pattern to trace, then when you're ready to put posca on it (I used the type with the pointy plastic nib- makes it much easier to get sharp points) just really take your time with it

if you're adhd like me and feel burnt out after doing one side definitely take a break and come back to it when you're zoned into it again because when you're out of steam is when you'll start making mistakes and rushing things 😂

When you're all done and happy, and you're sure it doesn't need another layer for full vibrancy, (though fewer layers is preferable) posca dries really quick but just to be completely sure I let them sit for like half an hour.

Now I should preface this by saying i couldn't find literally anything about sealing posca on your docs online, most I could find were people saying just be sure to prep the leather and it'll be fine, but idk I live in England it's wet as fuck here I don't know if I trust that.

I did find one thing from posca saying you can use water based varnish to seal it on leather but idk if that was really talking about shoes? I don't have any varnish but I'm probably going to get some just to be safe.

I DID though use a layer of some of my sisters hairspray, because it was literally all I had to hand, which at least to me did seem like it made it more sturdy when I ran a fingernail over it but I don't know if I trust getting them too wet with only the protection of hairspray

Anyway this was a super long response overexplaining more than you actually asked 😅

but i thought this might be helpful to put out there for others who are trying it for the first time because I couldn't actually find anywhere that had clear instructions in one place, hope it helped 😂

[nyxronomicon]

chapter iii: fushiguro

toji x reader (she/her. tits & vagina)

cw: child neglect, fuckboy Toji, gambling, alcohol, no curses au, found family, DILF Toji, Toji is motivated by sex, anger issues, Shiu is a little shit (affectionate), a LOT of swearing in this chapter

masterlist

Toji watched the smoke billow up from his cigarette, swirling in the air, echoing his swirling emotions. His thoughts were on you. How shitty his whole situation already was and now you were a part of it.

No. He reminded himself that you were nothing more than a neighbor. Nothing more than a babysitter. He took a drag of the cigarette and stared into the night sky. Things always got messy when Megumi was involved, but it was too late. He fucked up. He shouldn't have opened his big mouth and told you so much.

Granted, he was pretty convinced you wanted to have sex with him. Maybe not so much anymore, but that didn't stop him from thinking about it. That hazy expression you had after drinking a little whiskey was stuck in his head as he took another drag of his cigarette. "Fuck," he mumbled, trying to push the memory out of his mind.

Toji's phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and picked up. "Yeah?" He spoke with disinterest.

"I've got a job for you." The voice said. "It'll take a few days."

Toji closed his eyes briefly, shaking off his emotions. "Timing couldn't be better."

"Oh?" the man responded. "Something happen with that neighbor girl?"

"Shut up." Toji hissed before adding, "Shouldn't have told you about her."

"So I take it you need a babysitter." There was a pause while Toji finished his cigarette, tossing it on the ground and stepping on it.

"If you're offering." Toji was dreading the thought of facing you again. As much as he wanted to fuck you, he'd be just as happy if you decided you didn't want to see him again. It'd be easier for everyone.

"I don't mind." Toji could hear the faint chuckle from the other line. "Maybe she'll stop by."

"Don't get any ideas," Toji scowled. A strange possessiveness came over him, not that he had any claim over you. He hadn't felt this way in a long time.

"Interesting." The man on the other line mused.

"You're getting ideas, Shiu." Toji muttered. "Are you really gonna piss me off to talk to the neighbor chick? You, of all people, should know how bad that could end for you."

Shiu just laughed. "You'd never."

"Try me." Toji snarled into the phone before hanging up with a sigh.

-

You texted Toji. He was acting weird when you parted ways last night, so you wanted to make amends. Not necessarily for Toji, but the thought of leaving Megumi like that made you feel guilty. Although, you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel bad for upsetting Toji, too.

You went the entire day without hearing from him, so when you got home from work, you considered stopping by. If he wasn't around, Megumi would be there and he'd probably want company, anyway. So, you changed out of your work clothes and knocked on his door.

It was only minutes before the door creaked open, a stranger behind it. He had a thin mustache, short hair, and wore a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He smirked, eyeing you up and down before he spoke.

"You must be the neighbor girl."

"And you are...?" You looked confused, glancing in the apartment behind him for Megumi.

"Shiu Kong." He stuck his hand out. "A friend of Toji's."

"Are you in security, too?" You asked.

He chuckled. "Yeah." There was a short pause, then he added, "He's got a job in another town for a few days. I watch the kid sometimes when he's gone."

At the sound of your voice, Megumi rushed to the door. "Miss MC!" He had a bright smile. "I finished another puzzle. Come look!" He grabbed your hand as Shiu stepped out of the way to let you through. Megumi led you to his spot on the living room carpet, flipping through the newly completed puzzles as you complimented his work.

Shiu simply observed, wondering what it was about you that had captured Toji's interest. Megumi had clearly grown attached to you already. He was more animated than Shiu had ever seen. The kid had been telling him about you earlier, about how you brought him to the store and tucked him in. Clearly, the missing piece in Megumi's life was some kind of mother figure.

Shiu knew Toji better than that, though. He knew it was unlikely he'd talked to Megumi about you, and even less likely that he talked to you about Megumi. Regardless, Toji never really cared about what Megumi wanted, and that alone wouldn't have Toji acting the way he was. Something else must have happened between the two of you.

He pulled out his phone, taking a picture of you on the floor with Megumi. He immediately texted it to Toji, with the caption: look who decided to visit.

Toji: tell her to leave.

The response was almost immediate, making Shiu chuckle. Toji rarely got possessive like this. Of course, he had no intention of backing down. This was just far too interesting.

"MC," Shiu called your name, walking closer as both you and Megumi looked at him. "Care to chat? I was hoping to ask you something." Megumi frowned, eyeing him.

"Sure." You stood, following the man to the kitchen. Megumi snuck behind, hiding just out of sight so he could eavesdrop.

"Toji's going to be gone a few days, and I'm not much of a chef." Shiu stated. "Would you mind making us dinner tomorrow? I've already ordered delivery for tonight."

"Oh," you smiled brightly at the idea of making another friend. "Of course. Megumi would like that, too."

"He would," Shiu smiled back. There was a short pause. "I have another question. You know how Toji is, he won't tell me anything. Are you together?"

You laughed, thinking it was a joke for a moment before you realized he was being serious. "Sorry, uh, no. We're not... anything. Just friends."

"Is it that ridiculous that I asked?" He chuckled. "Sorry, just wanted to make sure."

"Why? Did he say something about me?" You tilted your head. The nature of the conversation was still lighthearted, and you could feel your heart beat a little faster at Shiu's boy-next-door charm.

"Nothing, really. But he doesn't normally mention the women he sleeps with."

The phrase echoed in your head. The women he sleeps with. You figured Toji probably slept around with how flirty he was, but you never thought about it. Still, the confirmation had you feeling a little shattered. A little inadequate.

"Toji and I haven't slept together, if that's what he told you." The smile left your face as you leaned against the countertop.

"No, no." Shiu smiled nervously. "I meant to say, he doesn't really mention women at all. Not since his wife left him."

"Do you know her? What is she like?" You pried, thinking maybe if you can get a little of information from Shiu, you wouldn't have to bring it up with Toji again.

"She was good for him. Made him a better man." He sighed. "But she's better off." There was a long pause as you contemplated whether you really wanted to know the answer to your next question.

"Did he love her?" You asked quietly. Shiu studied your expression. Some shyness. Almost like you didn't want to know. Toji certainly wouldn't want you to know. And yet, the man couldn't resist.

"I think so. In his own fucked up way." He replied. He couldn't lie to you, not for this. And he knew that eventually, it would all catch up to Toji, regardless. "But she's long gone. Seriously."

You took in a deep breath. The ramifications weighed heavy on your mind. One of them was lying to you. Shiu stepped closer, gently holding your cheek as your eyes met his gaze.

"Hey. He's going through something that has nothing to do with you. You can be there for Megumi with or without his blessing." Shiu's brown eyes shimmered as you looked at him, your heart racing. Even though he was practically a stranger, you felt so close to him at this moment. Maybe it had just been too long since you'd felt affection, but it was nice. 

Your thoughts felt so foggy. You needed to leave and clear your head. You felt drawn to Shiu, and you weren't sure how much of that was his smooth-talking and how much of it was real. You pictured Toji finding out and in your mind he just shrugged, his apathy like a knife in your heart. But, if he didn't care, why did you?

"I should go." You mumbled, shuffling out of the kitchen. "See you tomorrow, Megumi." You waved, not even sparing a glance at the living room before leaving the apartment. Megumi was relieved- you would have caught him listening in.

Shiu followed behind you, instantly noticing Megumi's poor hiding spot. "Eavesdropping again?" He laughed.

"You're not allowed to flirt with her." Megumi pouted.

"She's a little old for you." Shiu ruffled Megumi's hair with a grin.

"No, for dad." He pulled away, pink dusting his cheeks. "She's nice. I want her to keep hanging out with dad. He likes her."

Shiu looked at the kid, shocked he'd say something so on the nose. He had just been thinking the same thing. Maybe you were the one who could force Toji to move on.

-

Your emotions swirled in your head. You felt even worse now. Toji only reopened those wounds last night because of you. And you didn't even give him anything in return. No truths, no dares. You stared at the text conversation between you, wondering what you might say to apologize.

It would be better in person, of course. But you had no idea when he'd be back and you were afraid he hated you.

You: I'm sorry about last night... please let me make it up to you.

There it was- the familiar silence of waiting for a message from Toji. He was traveling for work. You had to keep reminding yourself like a mantra while you cooked dinner. Still nothing after you finished eating. It was hours before you finally got a response.

Toji: i told you i'm saving that dare for later You: I mean as an apology. I feel bad. Toji: for what? she means nothing to me. i don't care that you asked.

That wasn't what Shiu said. You wanted to believe Toji, but your gut told you something wasn't right. He took her name. That's especially weird with an arranged marriage. You suddenly had a sinking feeling that you couldn't trust him. That Shiu was the one telling the truth.

You: ok then. Toji: did something happen?

You didn't know how to talk to him at this point. What else was he lying about? You could feel yourself spiraling in negative thoughts. You needed to stop talking to him, but your fingers compelled you to type one more message.

You: I talked to Shiu. It just feels like you're lying to me. Maybe we should just be friends. I still want to be there for Megumi.

Toji didn't respond to that text message. Not that you were expecting it.

-

Long after he and Megumi finished dinner, Shiu's phone rang. He didn't bother looking at the caller ID; he knew who would be on the other line.

"Hey." Shiu excused himself to smoke a cigarette outside, leaving Megumi to his nature documentary. The kid didn't need to overhear this.

"What'd you fuckin' say to her?" Toji barked.

"Not even a hello? I thought we were friends, Fushiguro." He mused.

"Just tell me what you said, you fuckin' prick." He sounded furious, which just made Shiu smirk.

"Keep talking like that and I'll start to think you have a little crush." Shiu wore an easy smile as he stepped outside. It was getting late. The sun had just dipped below the horizon. He pulled out a cigarette, placing it loosely between his lips.

"Fucking christ. Why is talking to you like pulling teeth?" Toji sighed.

"Calm down. I told her the truth, man." He lit the cigarette.

"The truth?" Toji hissed.

"What," He sighed, taking a drag, "was I supposed to baby her or something? Tell her you never loved your wife? That you're just a wellspring of affection waiting for the right cute neighbor girl to shower with adoration?"

"My ex-wife." Toji corrected him.

"You never signed the papers, dude. You're still married, whether or not those feelings still exist."

"Fuck off." Toji growled.

"You know I'm right, man." Shiu took another drag, watching the sky slowly darken behind his clouds of smoke.

"Yeah? If you're so perfect, where's your girl, Casanova?" Though his tone was still short, he seemed calmer now. Shiu was a seasoned expert at de-escalating Toji's fury.

"Dunno." Toji knew Shiu well enough to picture the shit-eating grin on his face as he spoke. "Maybe she's across the hall. Maybe she's making dinner for me and Megumi tomorrow."

"You didn't." It was a rare treat for Shiu to ruffle Toji's feathers like this.

"You're really down bad, eh?" He chuckled. "Consider it my payment for taking care of the kid."

"I'm gonna wring your fucking neck, Kong." Toji growled into the receiver. "She isn't a payment. Christ."

"You're right. She's a free woman. And she's right to be cautious of you. You know that." Shiu puffed the cigarette before adding, "and I'm not giving up my cut of this job, so don't even think about it."

There was a deafening silence. "Shiu." Toji's voice had softened. Almost like he was feeling reasonable now. "Seriously. What's your game?"

"I was thinking about asking her out. She's cute." He smiled, wishing there was a little less light pollution so he could see the stars. Not that the parking lot of this dingy apartment building would be very picturesque.

"No." Toji shot back. "Cancel."

"Why should I?" He took a long drag.

"Are you gonna make me say it?" Toji's voice was tired. Shiu knew that this wasn't the only thing on his plate now, but Toji was resistant to change unless he was pushed to his breaking point.

A humorless chuckle escaped Shiu's lips, smoke trailing out with it. "Why don't you tell me the real reason you never signed those papers instead?"

Toji huffed. After a long pause, he relented. "Megumi deserves a better father. He deserves an out, and I can't give that to him."

"You think she can?" Shiu asked. He figured it was something like this. There was another long pause.

"Dunno anymore." He sighed.

"You want my opinion?" Shiu finished his cigarette. "She's not the escape you think she is. She'd be stupid to come back just to clean up the mess you made. This is on you, man. You can't keep putting off happiness like some fucking edgelord. Megumi's miserable, you're miserable, just let this neighbor girl in a little. Let her make you happy. Fuck."

"You think she wants that? To get involved with... all this?" Toji was quiet, almost pensive.

"Why don't you ask?" Shiu walked over to the trash, putting out his cig before tossing it.

"And tell her everything? Fuck off, dude." Toji hung up without another word.

Shiu looked at his phone with a smirk. "Here I thought we were making progress," he mused to himself as he returned to the apartment.

-

The next morning, Shiu poured himself a cup of coffee as Megumi ate his cereal at a barstool. "Hey, uncle Shiu?" The nickname always made Shiu smile.

"What is it?" He looked at the kid. It wasn't very often that he started a conversation.

"Why did you say my mom is better off without my dad?" Megumi looked at his cereal.

"You heard that, huh?" He set the coffee down on the counter, now directly across from Megumi. "Listen, your dad isn't emotionally intelligent. Do you know what that means?" Megumi shook his head. He did not. "It means that he's not good at recognizing and expressing his feelings."

Shiu sighed, wondering how to put this without giving Megumi too much information. "Your dad loved your mom, but I don't think it was for the right reasons. He loved what she could offer him. It was an arranged marriage to her, but to him, it was an escape."

"An escape? From what?" Megumi tilted his head.

"From his family." Shiu smiled softly.

"Dad has family?" The kid asked, a shocked look on his face.

"Yeah, but they were mean to him, so he doesn't want them to meet you." Shiu sipped his coffee. "He's protecting you, I think."

"I don't want him to protect me." Megumi pouted.

"Oh?" Shiu chuckled. "You want his family to be mean to you, too?"

"Maybe they won't be mean to me." He shoveled another bite of cereal in his mouth.

"His family is mean to everyone." Shiu set his mug down. "You'll understand when you're older." 

Megumi was quiet. This wasn't the first time he'd been told this. He frowned, wanting to know more but not knowing how to get it. "What does that mean?"

"Your father is in a dangerous line of work. You're putting yourself in danger if you ask too many questions." Shiu dismissed him again, this time much more seriously.

"What about Miss MC?" Megumi asked.

"She knows even less than you do." Shiu took another sip of coffee. "Are you worried about her?" He leaned on the counter behind him, facing Megumi with the mug in hand.

"She asks a lot of questions." He simply responded. "Does that mean I should protect her?"

Shiu chuckled, "I think you're a little small to be protecting anybody."

"Then dad should protect her." Megumi finished his bowl of cereal and brought it to the sink. He wasn't tall enough to rinse it out, so he just set it down and returned to his barstool.

"What makes you say that?"

"He likes her. I can tell. He's way nicer to her than he is to you." Megumi sat back down.

"Hey," Shiu laughed. "He doesn't even know her. I'm his best friend."

Megumi looked at Shiu with disbelief, "really? He's not very nice to you." Shiu couldn't really tell if the kid was joking or not- he was one of Toji's only friends that had even met him.

"That's his shitty emotional intelligence." He stepped away from the counter. "Even when he likes people, he won't show it. I don't think he's ever told me we're friends, but we are."

"How do you know?" Megumi looked at him with those piercing blue eyes.

"We've shared too many beers and stories to be anything else." He shrugged.

"Does Miss MC know he likes her?"

Shiu paused at Megumi's question. The answer was undoubtedly no. But it's not like they could really do anything about it. Toji was a stubborn fool. He'd push her away completely before even considering the thought of taking her on a date. If Shiu or Megumi talked to him about it, he'd be even more resistant to the idea. God forbid she asks him out- Toji was way too old-fashioned about his views of masculinity to accept that.

"I don't think she does." He responded.

"We gotta tell her. So she knows about his emotional intelligence." Megumi earned another chuckle from Shiu.

"I'm not sure we should interfere." Shiu finished his coffee, returning to the kitchen. Megumi followed. "At least, not so directly."

"Why not?" Megumi pouted.

"Your dad needs to think it's his idea. Otherwise, he won't do anything." Shiu thought for a minute. "But he needs a little push. You're right about that. Let's think about it. Maybe we can come up with a plan." He smiled at the kid, not realizing his words would plant a seed into the little guy's head.

[valya-kingoftherats]

We're Together

"This is okay?" You fiddle with the cuff of your shirt. Nervous. So unbelievably nervous. And not just because of the button-up dress shirt.

You're going out for dinner. With your partner and your girlfriend. It's the first time all three of you have gone out together.

Anathema squeezes your hand, "Relax, Val. It's just a dinner date. Don't get all stressed out about it."

Easier said than done. While it's been long enough that you're sure the farm isn't looking for you, you're still on edge in public. Especially with two of the Rangers. Especially when ones the Marshal. And on top of that, the last time you were in a fancy place like this was with your Handler. Not something you'd like to revisit.

Too many factors that could make this go horribly.

You just want things to go nicely. Make sure you come off as normal and well adjusted. People know Anathema and Charge, you don't want to negatively affect them somehow.

Julia slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. Pressed right into her side. "It'll be fun! Good food, couple of drinks," she turns and winks, "great company."

That makes your heart skip a beat. If she's anything, it's endlessly charming. And reckless. And an idiot. But charming. And very pretty.

You turn your head away to fight the blush that's taking over your face, but it's out of the pot and into the fire for you. You immediately lock eyes with Themmy, and their smile is enough that you feel like you may combust.

You're done for as soon as Anathema leans over and kisses your cheek. Ready to melt then and there. They're both right. You're overthinking. You've walked up to the restaurant now, all you have to do is go inside and get your table.

You've got this.

You stand up a little straighter, "I'll go check the reservation. See if they're ready for us." You smile and release their hands. Brush down the front of your shirt. "Be right back," and you leave them in the lobby to go check the front desk.

The waiter at the front is dressed nicer than you. Blue dress shirt, black vest, and tie. Immaculate. You immediately feel more out of place than you already did.

And despite being around the same height, he's looking down on you. "Sorry, I'm afraid we aren't taking walk-ins tonight. We are all booked for this evening." He speaks with a clearly fake French accent. This isn't a French restaurant. His shoulders are squared back, and his eyes are narrowed at you.

"I have a reservation, actually." You puff out your chest. You can be big too. "For me and my partners, table for three." You gesture back to where Julia and Anathema are standing for emphasis.

"You," he crosses his arms, "and them?" You don't like that look. Arrogant. Ghostly familiar.

"That's correct." At times like these, your training comes in handy. Small and polite. No need to escalate, even if you desperately want to.

"Not a chance. That's Charge and Anathema, and there is no way someone like you is with them." He flicks his hand as he speaks. Shooing you away. Out.

"Someone like me?" Keep your temper. Remember your training. You can't make a scene or then you will be in trouble.

"Yes, someone like you." The accent is gone. Replaced by something deeper. Snarky. "Dull. Homely. They are heroes of Los Diablos. You are the scruffy barista that makes my coffee on Tuesday mornings." Oh. Fuck, yeah you do recognize the bastard. Comes in like clockwork with a stupid complicated order. And doesn't tip. "There is simply no way you would be accompanying them, much less in any sort of relationship. Now I suggest you leave quietly before I call security on you for stalking and harassment."

"I haven't done anything." You take a deep breath and grit your teeth. Behave yourself. You will not make a scene. That would only make him more right than he already is. Nobody speaks it out loud, but your boost let's you hear them nonetheless. You don't belong with them. Don't fit in. No one assumes you're all dating. Friends at best. Indulging a fan at worst. "I'd like for me and my partners to be taken to our table. Please."

"And I won't ask you again. Do leave before you make an even bigger fool of yourself." The thoughts you pick up from him are enough to make you want to jump the desk at him.

They're also enough to make you take a few steps back before turning around and bolting out the door.

You choose not to hear the shouts from Themmy and Julia. Doesn't matter. This was a stupid idea.

Just who exactly do you think you are? That you could do this? Be one of them? With them?

There's a park a little ways down the street, far enough that you aren't worried about being disturbed. Hopefully, they'll give up and go enjoy dinner themselves.

You've sat yourself down behind the big water fountain in the center of the area. The babbling is relaxing. Unlike the constant ringing of your phone. Hasn't stopped. Messages from one, calls from the other. Nonstop. For fucks sake they need to take the hint. This is NOT helping your headache. You rub your temples, a futile attempt to make it hurt less. It never works.

Nothing does.

You turn and grab your phone from beside you. And pitch it into the pool of the fountain.

Finally. Silence.

"Valya!"

Fuck.

Fuck! Stupid hero instincts are going to be the death of you. No. You wouldn't be that lucky right now.

For a brief moment, you contemplate running again. But you aren't stupid enough to think you could outrun Charge.

And just to further prove that point, Julia is kneeling on the ground in front of you before you know it. Lips pressed against yours. Hasty. Firm. Her hands are on either side of your head, fingers interlocked at the back.

You just sit there like an idiot. Cursing yourself for not being more competent at this.

You're both out of breath when she finally breaks away. Still holdIng your head. Soft brown eyes refusing to look anywhere but at your own.

"I gave that camarero de mierda an earful." Julia huffs as she slides down beside you. "Why didn't you answer your phone?"

Before you can answer, Themmy plops down on your other side. They don't say anything. They just take your hand between their own and hold it. Waiting for you to answer, you'd think.

"I got rid of it." A simple admission. Not entirely deceptive. "It was loud. Headache." You pull away from Anathema. Tuck your knees up to your chest and push your face into them until you're seeing stars.

"Where?" Even without looking, you know Julia's trying to puzzle out where the hell you put the infernal device. You felt her braid whip against your head as she swung her head.

Themmy spots it first. "You're supposed to toss change in their you know." You brace yourself as they lean against you. "Though maybe bigger offerings means bigger wishes?"

"I don't...?" Julia must still be looking around. The braid hits the front of you this time. "Oh!" There she goes. "Valya! You threw it in the pond!"

"Technically, it's a pool, not a pond." At least you can laugh about this. Expensive a stress response as it was. It's better than the running away from dinner thing. Maybe they won't bring that one up.

They both laugh at that. "So you tossed your phone in the drink." Themmy snickers. "Any other property destruction you wanna get out of your system before we go eat?"

You release your legs. Sit back up and lean your head back on the edge of the fountain. "I'm sure I can find plenty around here to eradicate while you two are gone."

"While we're gone?" Julia's face pokes into your vision as she leans over you. Not an unwelcome intrusion. Curious. Worried. Pretty.

"No. I'm uh. I'll wait here." You can't do anything about it, but you will the both of them to just get up and leave. "You guys go eat," you force a smile, "bring me some take-out or something."

"Absolutely not." Anathema is up now. Standing in front of you. Standing on your toes to be more accurate. Hands stretched out towards you, hoping to haul you up to join them. "We're all going, and there's no reason otherwise."

"I. Am. Not. Going." You spring up to your feet, sidestepping around Anathema. "I didn't think - I can't. I just. This was a stupid decision." You try to drag a hand through your hair, it's long enough at the top to do that now. But Julia excitedly dragged you along with her today, and the lady put so much gel in it that you may as well be wearing a helmet.

You wish you brought your cigarettes with you. Badly.

"I don't belong in there. Probably never will." It's fine. You are fine. "Go. Have a good time. I'm going to grab a pack of smokes at a gas station or something. I'll see you at home," you nod at Themmy. "And I'll see you tomorrow or something." To Julia this time.

"Valya, wait!" In a flash, Julia's in front of you. You hop up on the edge of the fountain to go around her. You don't feel like doing this right now. "Seriously, are you really just going to let one waiter ruin the whole night?"

You turn on her so fast that she has to take a step back. "It isn't just one waiter! You don't get it! You can't! Neither of you! You don't know what it's like to be. To be -" You gesture to your head. "This. You can't hear them. I can. I don't fit in. Not with you both. Or even one of you."

What are you thinking? Running head first into destroying the best thing ever happened to you.

Just rushing along the inevitable.

No time like the present. All dreams end when you wake up.

"We hold hands, and people think I'm a friend or a relative. We can't be together. Not like that. They think I need to quit before I humiliate myself. Don't shoot my shot. There isn't a chance." Even when looking at the three of you together in public, no one believes it. You get those thoughts and opinions first hand. Regular people don't worry about projecting. "And you're both very public figures. And you're smart, funny, charming, and -" Your head is turned away, but you try to sneak a look at them before smartening up. "Beautiful. I just. I don't want to fuck with your image. Public perception. It can't be good, being seen with someone so...." Final nail in your own coffin. Your chest is clenched so tight you think you may stop breathing. "Homely. I'm just some scruffy barista. I'm out of my league here."

"Are you done?" Anathema's voice breaks though the pounding in your head. You nod.

And then they're both hugging you. Tight. Warm.

"Sorry you have to put up with all that," Anathema speaks quietly, tightening their grip on you. "But you know that doesn't reflect our thoughts, right? C'mon Val, give us some credit here."

Julia nods. Kisses your cheek. "If anyone wants to say anything, you can just send them my way." Another kiss on the corner of your mouth. You can't help but smile. "I'll show them exactly what Charge thinks of their assumptions."

Themmy props themself up on their toes to kiss you this time. "You aren't holding anyone back or bring us down." They drop back down and take a step away, still holding your hand. Big grin plastered on their face. "And you're handsome as fuck, Valya. Give yourself some credit too."

"Thanks." What else can you say? You aren't. Aren't good at this. Learned behaviour you hope. But everything feels warm and safe and much nicer than five minutes prior. You can feel your entire body heating up as you blush.

"So," Julia steps away now, doing a little spin on her heal, showing off the skirt of her dress. "I'm starving, and it would be a shame to waste this," she fingers at the navy blue fabric. "So how about we head back?" Bright smile. No a trace of smugness.

"Sounds like a plan, Valya?" Themmy holds out their free hand to make a sweeping gesture back towards the road. Smiling. All of you. Just like that.

It's easy around them.

"Yeah. Ready." You link your arms with them both. Happy to be here. Nervous. Still unbearably nervous. But it's a work on progress, you suppose.

They make it worth the effort.

[rants-about-opm]

Jealous

-Trade Fic for the splendid @the-little-guru . The prompt was Badd's cat getting jealous of him spending more time with Garou.-

“Just pet her, you'll be fine."

Garou narrows his glinting eyes at the grumpy ball of fur occupying Badd's lap. Tama returns the disinterested glare, almost daring him to try. He barely lifts his hand before her whole body puffs up like a marshmallow, and she growls low in her throat. Almost on instinct Garou growls back.

"If your little rat bites me, I'm tossing her to the moon."

Badd frowns, adding a second pair of eyes staring Garou down. Privately he wonders if that trademark glare runs in the family.

"You realize that if you two don't get along I'm choosing her over you?"

Garou blinks lazily and shrugs, but he's actually quite miffed about it. This whole 'getting to know people' and 'making connections' thing was hard enough without being cucked by a damn cat. She's already purring as Badd rubs just behind her ears, her half lidded eyes watching Garou, like she's trying to mock him.

"Why couldn't you own a mantis or something?" Garou mutters. "So much easier to deal with."

Badd is only half paying attention, cooing nonsense to Tama.

"Tama's just jealous. Once she gets used to you being here, it'll get easier."

"This is the first time you've invited me to your house, and I've been here six minutes. How is she gonna get used to me?"

Badd glances up at him with a smirk.

"Cuz you're gonna keep coming over, smartass."

Oh.

Garou huffs and turns away, picking at a loose thread on his pants.

Suddenly an 8 pound ball of anger is dropped in his lap.

He tenses up as claws dig into his legs and Tama yowls, eyes wide and locked with his.

"Badd." Garou hisses.

He doesn't break eye contact to look at Badd, but he hears snickering.

"Badd, call off your damn bloodhound."

Tama leaps away, scuttling across the couch to go sit behind Badd.

"Worth a shot." He grins, ignoring Garou's death stare. "You want a coke?"

Garou stops glaring. He suddenly isn't mad anymore.

Rolling his eyes, Badd gets up and starts walking to the kitchen. Garou stands up to follow, only for Tama to dart off the couch and trail behind Badd possessively, sitting at the entrance to the kitchen to keep anyone else from coming in.

"Forget being the ultimate evil." Garou grumbles to himself. "I think she has me beat."

Unable to do something as boring as sit on the couch waiting for Badd to come back, Garou starts pacing. His fingers are already tapping against his leg impatiently, and he’s considering just leaving. Badd already said he would choose Tama over him, so why bother? There’s other people he’s kicked the shit out of before. Although, they might not be as willing to forgive him. Plus Badd was way more worth his time.

“I guess I’m stuck with him.” Garou sighs.

Shoving his hands in his pocket, he scanned the apartment for something interesting to occupy himself with.

He didn’t have to search long.

"You know, you can be really mean sometimes." Badd murmurs to Tama.

Taking two sodas out of the fridge, he sets them on the counter and reaches down to scratch beneath the little cat's chin. She purrs immediately, turning her head to allow better access.

“He’s a lot like you, you know. A stubborn, clingy bastard. No offense of course.”

Suddenly, Tama’s eyes seem to narrow, and she makes a weird noise, scurrying away.

"Tama?" 

Taking the sodas, Badd follows her, planning to hand off the drinks to Garou before going to see what she's up to, but Garou isn't on the couch. Badd stops, blinking in confusion. He cranes back to look down the hallway to the front door, but Garou isn't there either, and he would have heard the door shut if he had already left. 

Tama meows again from the opposite corner of the living room

Badd looks to where she's sitting in front of the cat tree, and follows her line of sight up to see...

"Garou, the fuck are you doing on my god damn cat tree?"

Yeah, the idiot is perched on the top of the tree, smirking down at Tama as she meows loudly at him.

"Cry about it, furball." He chuckles.

Badd sighs deeply, closing his eyes and counting backwards from ten like Zenko always tells him to do. His hand twitches, aching for his bat.

"If you break my two-hundred dollar furniture, I'm going to kick your ass."

Garou shrugs.

"I don't know why you paid that much when you could have just gotten a box or something, cats love that crap. Besides, if she's gonna hoard something I want, two can play at that game."

"Oh, you want me?" Badd replies, grinning smugly.

Garou's wide eyes snap up to look at him, his expression blank. Badd can practically see the gears screeching to a halt in his head.

"I have no idea what you're on about." Garou says flatly.

Badd crosses his arms.

"You're trying to make my cat jealous." He smirks. "Because you want me."

A moment of silence passes between them.

Garou hops off the cat tree, taking a soda from Badd and walking past him.

"I'm leaving."

"You want me."

"I'm never coming back."

"You're jealous that I pet her head and not yours!"

"Go jump off a cliff!"

Badd hears the front door slam, and laughs, turning to Tama.

"I'm so sorry, little miss prissy pants, but I can't *not* fuck him."

He turns to go upstairs, and freezes.

Zenko is standing on the bottom step in her pajamas, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. 

She looks back and forth between him and the door. She tilts her head judgmentally.

"Was that the weird goblin that tried to kill you?"

[radiance1]

Just saw a snippet of that Gotham War thing going around. I do not like it, and I have feelings, I should be asleep right now but I have feelings and I find myself not even trying to care about characterization or writing quality right now.

So it'll most likely be pretty fucking SHITTY.

===

"Jason!" Batman ran to Jason's side, crouching down as he immediately began to assess the wounds. "You'll be okay, just hold on for a bit longer."

"You're a shit father, you know that, Bruce?" Jason chuckled, a wet thing that spilled just a little more blood from his lips as he grabbed onto one of his father's arms. "Don't."

"Jason-"

"Nah, this is the end for me, Bruce." Jason grunted, pain flashing through his body as he shifted himself. "And for god's sake, take off that damn mask. Nobody's 'round to see your ugly mug." He half shrugged. "Besides me of course."

Batman barely even thought more of it as his hands moved upwards to push away his mask, leaving his face bare to the world. His face was pinched, as if he couldn't decide what expression to make as soon as the mask came off. "Jason-"

"Save it. You can't change my mind about this, Bruce." Jason tightened his hand around Bruce's arm, enough for that entire hand to go numb, either that or the blood loss. He couldn't tell. "Don't try and bring me back either, Bruce. Don't let anyone else try to bring me back either."

"It doesn't have to be this way. You have so much to live for-"

Jason hissed. "Don't give me that generic ass speech, Bruce. Tired of it." Jason shook his head, reaching a hand up to try and remove his helmet, he failed. So Bruce reached up to do it for him. "Thanks, I guess."

Jason breathed in a deep breath, his lungs burning in protest yet seemingly wanting more as he coughed. Specks of blood flying from his mouth as his body screamed in protest from sudden jostling.

"Jason-"

"Hey Bruce." Bruce shut his mouth. "I'm scared, you know, of what's going to be waiting for me on the other side. Pretty shit, not gonna lie, though dying once would've made it easier but-" Jason let out a pained wheeze in place of a laugh. "But I guess not."

"You don't have to die, Jason."

"I know." Jason tilted his head towards Bruce, his vision foggy and spotty. "I know I don't have to, but I want to. Alright, but I'm still scared, scared of death. Pretty fucking cowardly huh?"

"Everyone's scared of something, Jason." Bruce reached a hand forward, moving Jason's head into a more comfortable position that wouldn't strain his neck further than it already was. He made to move his hand away, but paused as he felt his son sink into his touch, however slightly.

His hand stayed as one of Jason's eyes lowered.

"You would know a lot about that, wouldn't you" Jason let out another pained wheeze as it got harder and harder to breath. "You make people piss their beds just from hearing your name, of course you would."

"Jason." He watched as his son's breathes got shallow, a longer and longer pause between every intake of break.

"I'm sorry, Bruce."

"What for, Jason?"

"For not being a better son." Jason coughed harshly, his chest convulsing with each and every one.

Bruce was silent for moment, before he sighed. "You're a fool, Jason." He moved forwards, pulling Jason towards his chest as he rested his chin on his son's head. "Because you were the one of the best goddamn sons I could've ever asked for, and if it were up to me." Bruce tightened his hold as he felt the body in his hold go slack. "I would've chosen you again and again."

Bruce could feel tears falling from his eyes as he held Jason close, finally managing to choke out the words he so desperately wanted to say, even as they now would fall only on deaf ears.

"I love you, Jason."

===

@stealingyourbones YOU. Get the FUCK over here, I've decided to make this your problem.