#i am dealing with the same thing you are it seems (the hell shot)

[ghoulangerlee]

Ohhhhh my god I feel you on this whole bc shot thing. I've been on it for a little over two years because I'm trans and getting my period was so bad for my emotional wellbeing I had to do something. I didn't wand an IUD, and I forget to take my medication a lot so the pill wasn't ideal. I was told by two different obgyns that they wouldn't consider removing the uterus becsuse at the time I was only 21 and ""What if you chsnge your mind!!!"" 🙄🙄🙄🙄 so I really dint have a whole lot of options.

On one hand I like not having to worry about the whole thing for 10/11 weeks at a time but on the other hand I also really like not having feeble bones! I've been taking calcium supplements but the pills are huge and I worry it isn't covering the issue entirely. I don't get enough calcium to begin with becsuse I can't drink milk and stuff, so I worry that it's a bandage on a knife wound so to speak.

Last time I was at the clinic for my shot I raised the issue again and the doctor there was like "wait you're literally trans and have no plans for children why the hell don't we just get rid of it????" And I'm just sitting there like why the fuck did the last two people I see not give me this option!?

Anyways I need to discuss the idea more with her but oh oh to get this fucking thing out of me....oh to dream....

Sorry rambling in your asks but this sucks and I sure hope we both get the cool fun and fresh resolution :)

oh my god anon, i feel you. i've been on it for...almost 5 years now? I think around August 2019 is when I started it finally. It was unfortunately the only option we could find for me. I actually can't have any bc that has actual estrogen in it because of my high blood pressure and the family history of blood clots. And like, at first it was fine and dandy! I was okay with it because after 7 weeks of a heavy cycle I was so exhausted and just ready for it to be over. And it's been gone! pretty regularly for the last several years.

Sometimes if I'm incredibly stressed it will sneak up on me but it's like, leagues better than it was. Max 3 days and barely anything at all. So, very manageable for someone who y'know. had it much worse (to the point it would cause my iron to drop significantly all the time).

I hate obgyns who refuse to do things because "you might regret it later on" like, no actually I think I'll regret having this thing inside my body I don't intend to use and having to stay on the shot for the rest of my life. I'm in a same-sex relationship, I don't ever intend to physically carry a child, I just want the thing gone lmao. I've told obgyns that in the past and yet they still insisted on telling me that I might "regret" it.

So, my surgeon did mention that viactiv is a good supplement, which is apparently a chocolate calcium chew haha. My biggest concern is that I have osteoarthritis and being over 30 now, my bone density doesn't come back as fast as it does for someone in their 20s. My doctor is also concerned about it too. I mean like also the weight gain is terrible too, like holy shit it's been the worst (strong ass bc, strong ass side effects I GUESS)

THOUGH APPARENTLY there is a bone density therapy that they can do which will help with keeping your bones strong. I didn't know about it and no one ever thought to mention it to me when they started talking about my bone density lmao. Normal Calcium supplements make me extremely nauseous and I can't take them, so I just stopped lmao.

And I think from there, that's when I sort of decided I wanted to look into getting rid of my uterus for good. Like, I don't plan to have kids, I don't need it. Why should I continue this shot, why should I keep putting myself through this.

Also, idk if you've experienced it, or if its just because I been on it for so long or if it's something else entirely, but in place of the period I just get cramps :) really bad ones :) it's great and what I've always wanted from bc haha.

honestly that's a good doctor, why haven't they suggested it sooner? Literally the surgeon I'm seeing is, ironically, the first obgyn I saw when I switched insurances and go to where I go now, and from the beginning she was like "you're in a monogamous same-sex relationship whenever you want the surgery we can just take care of that" and idk I wasn't in the right place then, I think, to consider it.

yeah it's a long process from my understanding, we're building a case right now, as my surgeon called it, gonna have some imaging stuff done, a few more tests and then we'll set the date and just. remove it. thankfully, no early menopause for me (ironically the One Thing i was most worried about?? I don't know, I've got so much going on, I didn't want to even consider dealing with menopause bc guess what the treatment for that is-- the same damn shot I'm trying to escape lmao) ANON!!! I wish the best for both of us!!! Let me know how things go!! (if you're comfortable!!)

[forzarma]

Between the lines

Lando Norris x Law student!reader

A/N: ok amma just act like i didn’t ghost this app for months and came out if nowhere but here we are ig. Also the Brazilian gp??? What the heck like wild race istg😭

It all started one night in Monaco, on a break from law school. You were on vacation with a friend, celebrating the rare freedom that came with a brief pause in your intense study schedule. A night at the casino was not usually your scene, but your friend had insisted.

After about an hour, she’d struck up a flirtatious conversation with some guy who’d been lingering by the bar. You waved her off, telling her you’d be fine, and took a seat on your own near a roulette table.

That’s when he walked up. Unassuming at first, with that messy hair and a slightly cocky smile that had “trouble” written all over it.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, a hint of an accent in his voice.

You shrugged, amused. “Go for it. But I’m not particularly good at this.”

He chuckled. “Neither am I.”

You exchanged a few more jokes, but it didn’t take long for him to introduce himself, giving you his number in a smooth, unhurried way.

“Lando,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief.

You stashed the number away without much thought. It was only the next day, when you mentioned the encounter to your little sister over FaceTime, that you realized who he actually was.

“Some guy named Lando gave me his number at the casino,” you’d said offhandedly. Her jaw dropped.

“Wait, Lando who??.”

You blinked, stunned, and then laughed. “I don’t know, apparently he’s famous”

“so it’s lando fucking norris what” she said wide eyed

She rolled her eyes, muttering, “Only my sister would be this oblivious to F1 drivers. I’ve been a die-hard fan since I was, like, ten, and you meet one without even knowing?”

From there, you let yourself get to know him, intrigued by how normal he seemed compared to the hype you’d suddenly realized surrounded him. When he asked you out, you thought, why not? You were used to focusing on your studies and keeping your personal life private, so it didn’t seem like much would change. But with Lando, everything was different.

-

Months later, you’d fallen into an unexpected but steady rhythm with Lando. Despite his career, he managed to keep things low-key. Neither of you posted much about each other. Hell, you barely posted anything at all. You were still a law student with a private life, and the last thing you wanted was for the whole world to know who you were dating.

One evening, you were lying on his couch, scrolling through your phone, when Lando turned to you with a sly grin.

“Babe, you know… you’re eventually gonna get caught, right? Someone’s going to snap a picture of us, and then the cat’s out of the bag,” he teased, nudging your leg with his.

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Oh, sure, because every random person with a camera is just dying to know who you’re dating.”

He snickered, leaning in closer. “Maybe. But you know, it could be kinda nice… to go out sometimes. Like, properly. We don’t have to make a big deal of it.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. As much as you loved being with him, the idea of being recognized—or worse, photographed—made you cringe. Your accounts were private, your life simple, and you weren’t sure how you’d feel about people seeing you with him.

But, at the same time, you knew it wasn’t fair to keep him hidden away forever. So, you took a deep breath and gave him a small smile. “What if we make a deal?”

His eyebrows shot up in interest. “I’m listening.”

“You can have me at the paddock,” you said, already dreading the idea. “But my accounts stay private, no tags, no ‘girlfriend reveals’ on Instagram. I’ll show up, I’ll be there for you but I’m not trying to become some celebrity.”

He grinned, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Deal. Although I can’t promise you won’t end up in a couple of team photos. You know how they love to catch every damn moment.”

You chuckled, trying not to think too hard about what you were signing up for.

-

A couple of weeks later, you were lying in bed with Lando, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram, when you felt a pang of guilt.

“I never actually told you about my sister,” you said suddenly.

“Oh?” He looked over at you with interest.

“Yeah, she’s been obsessed with F1 since she was like, ten,” you explained, laughing softly. “She’s begged me to take her to a race for years, but I was always too busy with school. Now she’s a full-on Ferrari fan… and she’s probably never going to forgive me for dating you.”

He grinned, intrigued. “A Ferrari fan, huh? That’s rough. Maybe I can convince her to switch sides.”

You snorted. “Good luck. She’s already sworn allegiance to Sebastian Vettel. In her words, McLaren’s colors are ‘an offense to her soul.’”

Lando laughed, shaking his head. “Well, in that case, we’ll have to win her over somehow. Why don’t we bring her to a race? I’ll make sure she gets the best seats, full experience,

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “She’d lose her mind. Seriously. Are you sure? Because I can tell you right now, she’d never root for McLaren.

“Absolutely,” he said, squeezing your hand. “If she’s as big a fan as you say, she deserves a proper race weekend. Plus, I think it’s time we officially break her ‘Ferrari-only’ heart.”

-

On race day, you and Lando arrived at the paddock, and immediately, heads turned. You’d chosen a classic, chic outfit and despite your initial nerves, you managed to keep your cool.

You spotted your sister down the row, and her jaw dropped as soon as she saw you. She approached, barely able to contain her excitement, though she shot a mock glare at Lando.

“Such a shame I don’t like McLaren,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied with a grin. “You just wait. One lap, and you’ll be a fan.”

She rolled her eyes, but you could tell she was thrilled, practically bouncing on her heels as she looked around at the spectacle. She turned to you, eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re really here… at a race. I don’t know whether to thank you or disown you.”

You laughed, nudging her playfully. “I’m still not a fan, if that helps.”

She huffed, pretending to be offended. “I guess I’ll forgive you. But only if you bring me every single time from now on.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur of cameras, fans, and the hum of engines. You couldn’t deny the rush of excitement that came with being part of the chaos, even if it meant being in the public eye. And when you saw your sister’s face, completely lit up as she took in every second, it felt worth it.

-

The relationship slowly became public, just as you and Lando had agreed. You kept your accounts locked down, but fans began to recognize you, and a few photos of you two at the paddock circulated on social media.

Your sister stayed true to her Ferrari fandom, texting you regularly to tease you about your “betrayal.” But every now and then, you’d catch her slipping in a comment about McLaren usually something along the lines of, “Okay, that car looks pretty badass.”

One evening, Lando turned to you with a satisfied grin. “I think we’re doing alright, don’t you think?”

You looked around the Monaco apartment you’d somehow started calling “home” without even realizing it, at the life you’d built together. You leaned over, giving him a soft kiss. “Yeah, I think so, too.”

In the end, you realized you didn’t need to post, announce, or shout your relationship from the rooftops. Being there for each other was enough, even if it meant sharing some of the spotlight.

After all, Lando may have been the one the world wanted to see, but you were his, and that was more than enough.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Hey so uhh, it said requests are open so I'm gonna shoot my shot ig. I have this fic idea but I'm a shit writer so here it goes.

Alastor x reader but the concept is that the reader is Alastor's shadow.

Now, hear me out: Alastor is said to be a powerful demon since his manifestation in hell, we know that it takes demons quite some time to accumulate their power before they become overlords.

If "The Radio demon" was an alias was that operated between more that one person, then it would make sense as to why and how he rose to the top very quickly (assuming we ignore the fact he made a deal with someone).

That and Alastor's black appendages and shadows seem out of theme for a demon who's primary power is based on Radio.

As for how they met, it could go two ways. Either with Alastor, a man hungry for power, strikes his first deal with Shadow!Reader to get them to do his bidding. Or Shadow!Reader offering Alastor their services after realizing that he has a lot of potential. Either way, their partnership blooms into a sort of kinship between the two of them.

Do with this concept whatever you want with it, I just wanna get this concept out in the world in the hands of someone much more capable of writing than I am.

Enjoy!

A/N please always shoot your shot. this is such a fun idea,, thank you so much for entrusting it to me. I've decided just to write their meeting for now but may continue it later on. I hope you like it!!

The Thing (Alastor x Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Mention of cannibalism and the Donner party. I think that is it.

Word Count: 1,752

Master Lists:

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Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

There was a secret, one that no one knew, one that would tear the demon realm apart at its edges if anyone found out. The illusive Radio Demon and his shadow were, in fact, just that: the illusive Radio Demon and his shadow.

Y/n was master of the immaterial, shifting forms and shedding skins the way others change their clothes. When Alastor arrived in Hell, they had long since been established as one of the many demons to be aware of.

Rumor runs rampant everywhere but especially in Hell where in controls, combines, and divides. Y/n was just that, a rumor. Never the same face twice, never in the same place twice. No one even knew their name, simply referring to them as the thing or the hunger. They snatched sinner's souls from their grasps and devoured them whole. An urban legend, a ghost story only here, all the ghosts were real.

Alastor was as observant in death as he had been in life, it didn't take him long to catch sight of the shadow. Though he had only been in Hell a few days when it had first appeared, he could tell it had nefarious intent.

The thing was a good actor, almost good enough to fool him. It lay in the reality of his own shadow, following his moves perfectly. However, no one is perfect and every once in a while, there would be a little slip. The first one which had caught Alastor's attention was when he had taken a step forward and it had gone the wrong way, quickly righting itself and following after the mistake.

Alastor pretended not to have noticed, but he remembered. He lay in wait for another such occurrence. It was not until two days later, when his shadow gave him four hands rather than two with no apparent explanation such as an odd angle to the sun or another body near him, that his thesis was confirmed. There was, in fact, something following him.

It stuck like glue to the heels of his shoes. Alastor was quiet, Alastor schemed. He had trapped it in a pure white room which he had fixed lightbulbs in from all sides. When he had turned on the lights, he had turned on them, arms crossed and foot tapping expectantly.

The shadow had looked this way and that, searching for a place to hide. When they realized it was no use, they had pulled themselves from the floor into three dimensions and faced him head on.

"Who are you?" Alastor had asked before quickly reevaluating his question, "What are you?"

It moved like liquid in the air, twisting and dissolving at its edges. Bubbles, or what was almost bubbles, what looked like bubbles, rose to the surface of it's body and as they popped, a demon began to take the shadow's place.

"I am everything."

They were many voiced. When they spoke, it sounded like a crowd of people saying the same thing in unison. Alastor stared at the demon, unamused. They were a full person now, about a head shorter than him and seemingly very calm considering he had them trapped. Then again, Alastor had only been in Hell a few weeks by this point, not nearly enough time to work up the sort of reputation he was hoping for.

"Is that a bad pickup line?" Alastor asked, "Am I supposed to ask what you mean and you'll say something like 'I could be everything to you?'"

The demon raised their eyebrows, shaking their head.

"It is the truth."

A tense silence fell between the pair. Alastor broke it with a sigh, rubbing his temples in irritation. He hadn't really known what to expect from this endeavor save an event to break up the monotony of his days. The demon was not delivering.

"Yeah, alright."

"Who are you?"

"You've been following me for what, two weeks? And you don't know?"

The demon shrugged.

"I was trying to be polite. It has been a while since I have spoken to anyone."

"Sure. Well," Alastor turned to the door, pulling a skeleton key from his pocket, "this has been interesting. Enjoy eternity alone in a well lit room."

Alastor opened the door. The demon made no move to follow him out of the room, no move to escape. They simply watched him in curiosity, their head tilted slightly to one side. Alastor hesitated, his body blocking the exit and his back towards them. He watched them over his shoulder as a thin black smoke seemed to emanate from the outline of their body.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

An empty threat, barley even a threat to be honest. Alastor stepped out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Once he was sure it was locked, he slipped the key back into his pocket. He made to leave, intending to go out on the town in a desperate attempt to find entertainment. Barley two steps forward, and shadows began to pool on the floor before his feet, blocking Alastor's path.

He watched in a mild interest as the demon pulled themselves from the shadows, taking on a different face than they had worn in the room. Now they were broader, taller, stronger. They looked mean.

"I told you."

"Is this what you meant when you said you were everything?"

The demon nodded once. Their wide eyes were unblinking, unchanging, as their form mutated again. A spider demon now with many arms and a lanky figure. Alastor raised his eyebrows.

"So, you let me catch you."

"I was bored. No one ever notices me until it is too late, except you."

"I find that hard to believe. You were easy to spot."

The demon's eyes widened slightly at this, something similar to surprise but halfway to fear.

"Like I said, Alastor the interesting." they mused after a moment.

Alastor bowed his head slightly in recognition of the title.

"I could take your soul, destroy you. Why were you so willing to risk all that? Surely a bit of entertainment can't be worth that much to you."

He was trying to get a gage on the creature, and he knew they could tell. It was a mild threat, one he couldn't follow through on even if he wanted to. Sure, he could maim the creature, cause it great pain, but beyond leaving them formless for a few days tops he was powerless. He knew that, but he didn't know if they did. Either way, the situation would play out to his advantage. It would either give him more information, or the upper hand.

They considered the situation for a moment before answering. Alastor couldn't figure out if it was because of their interest in him, for fear of him, or some third, other undefined motivation. No matter what it was, he didn't care. This was the most engaged he had felt in weeks.

"You aren't an overlord. You can't make a contract."

"And you are?"

"No."

"Too weak?" Alastor teased and the demon glared at him.

"Far from it. I don't like being seen."

"But you're letting me see you."

"I am allowing you to see a face. It is not mine."

Alastor fell silent. He had figured that the demon before him didn't have a true form, or if they did, that it was shadow. Things were becoming curiouser by the second. He was no longer regarding his attempts to trap the demon as a waste of time.

"So, you want power but anonymity. Those things don't go hand in hand."

"I know. You want fame and lack the power. Another unmatched set."

Alastor's ear twitched at that, displeasure running through his veins and clouding his sight. His hand tightened where he held his microphone.

"I have power enough."

"What use is a Radio Demon with nothing to broadcast?"

"Are you suggesting a deal?"

The demon smiled a smile that was too big for the face it wore. Alastor had to admit, they were unsettling. He understood the rumors.

"I've heard of your... reputation shall we say? But if you think I will trust someone who's face I have never even seen, you are dead wrong."

"Was that a joke?" the demon tentatively asked after a moment.

"Not on purpose but I supose so."

The thing seemed to roll the idea over in their mind as their form changed once again, this time becoming a demon with the body of a shark. They seemed not even to notice they were changing as their eyes flicked back to Alastor's.

"You want information. Then you will be open to the idea of a partnership."

"This was your goal all along, a partnership as you put it."

A statement, not a question. The demon smiled, their eyebrows slightly raised.

"Oh, was it now. At least I had an end goal to this little... situation."

Alastor scoffed, looking away. They were right. He had come up with no ideas past capturing the thing that had been following him. He was in the dark. They had everything figured out.

"Show me your real face. Then we can talk."

"Alastor Hartifelt. Died 1933. Louisiana famed radio host and serial killer cut down in his prime by a hunter who mistook him for a deer."

"Are you trying to intimidate me?"

"Not at all."

The demon shifted once again. It took them longer to find form this time, remaining as a black cloud for a few moments before at last settling on an almost human body. They were shorter than he had expected, smaller too and decked out in what seemed to be colonial dress. They held a hand out to him.

"Y/n L/n. Died 1846. Newly wed and member of the Donner party."

"Cannibalism." Alastor mused, gently taking their hand in his.

He had expected them to be cold, immaterial. He had expected his hand to slide right through theirs. Instead, the demon, Y/n, was warm and solid to the touch, just like anyone else. They smiled, mouth full of needles.

"We all take what we are given."

"I suppose."

Y/n dropped his hand and crossed their arms. Despite their stature, they radiated authority and poise. It was almost impressive.

"If you will be the face, I will be the force."

"No soul binding."

"I couldn't if I wanted to. Not an overlord."

Alastor looked them up and down. His smile grew.

"Not an overlord yet."

----

tags:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0

[winchester-24]

I am SO gonna need a part two to Sam choosing between reader and ruby. I loved it and I’m CRAVING angst. I can only imagine how you’d continue the story I KNOW it would be good

I'm so glad you loved it! The response to this specific fic has been mind-blowing to me as someone who just started posting, and I am super humbled by it! Thank you for your support <3

Imagine Sam having to choose between you and Ruby (Part 2)

Cold. If any hunter was asked about you, that is how they would describe you. When Bobby came and picked you up that day, he let you sit the entire ride home in silence. When you two reached his house, he popped a beer for you. When you went to take it, he held it back and demanded,

“Sit.” You sighed and sat at his kitchen table, drank the beer he offered, and told him everything. He comforted you Bobby-style, meaning he told you it would be alright and the two of you would figure it out. You finished your beer, thanked him, and asked if there was any car he didn’t care to part with. While he had none running, he permitted you to fix any of them.

It took you a month to fix up a car. Everything you knew about cars you learned between Dean and Bobby. It was nothing fancy, but it would get the job done. Every morning, Bobby would make you eat breakfast, and every night, when you came in, Bobby would make you eat dinner. You would then shower, sleep, and repeat. It was like you were a zombie. When the car was completely ready, you packed your things, left Bobby a note thanking him and saying that you would call, and left.

During your month there, your phone would begin to ring non-stop. Calling, text message, voicemail. Sam was using any way you could communicate on the phone. In the beginning, you would listen to the voicemails.

“Hey, baby, it's me—again. Please pick it up and at least let me know you are safe. We can talk about this. I love you.”

“I know you’re mad- you have every right to be. I was selfish and stupid, thinking about what was best for us without consulting you. It was dumb, and I took full responsibility. Please call me. I miss you so much; I love you.”

Every voicemail sounded like that, but the contact became less frequent. Instead of all day, it was in the morning and at night. Then it turned into just at night. Then it turned into every other day until it became once or twice a week until the last week you were at Bobby’s, Sam didn’t try to contact you once. Good.

You went from town to town, trying every crossroads demon. Trying to get information, make a deal. Anything. Every demon denied you a deal, and no one would tell you anything. You were getting frustrated. In between finding demons, you would pick up solo jobs. The roadhouse became your home away from home, wherever your home was supposed to be. Some nights, you would end up like Ash, asleep on top of a pool table or bar; other nights, Ellen would give you the spare back bedroom.

Hunters would come in and try to flirt with you. You would be cordial and say no; however, every hunter was the same- stubborn, and thinking no would eventually turn yes. After the fifth hunter came through and tried to put hands on you, you grabbed his hand, twisting it like Sam taught you, and caused the wrist to snap.

That was the last time a hunter hit on you at the roadhouse.

Every so often, Sam Winchester’s name was brought up around you. Hunters loved to talk, and now you know how every hunter seemed to know you three when traveling, but you never knew them. Each time you heard Sam’s name, your heart became colder, and another shot was poured into your body.

Three more months had passed, and you were no closer to figuring out how to get Dean out of hell. A few times, you thought about calling Sam to see if he was close to saving Dean but decided against it. When your phone rang, you were in a hotel room, just finished clearing out a vamp’s nest. Bobby.

“Bobby.” You say that was your greeting now to anyone; you have no spark of joy left in you.

“I need you to come home.” That was all Bobby said. You sighed and flung your boot off, working on the other one.

“I mean, I can; it will be tomorrow, though; I just finished a hunt; is it that important?”

“It needs to be now,” Bobby said. I stood up.

“Bobby, what’s going on?”

“You’re going to want to see for yourself, get your ass over here and stop arguing with me.”

“Okay, okay, calm down. I’ll be there in a few hours.” You say before you hang up. You look down at all the blood on you and then make eye contact with yourself in the mirror.

“But first, I’m going to shower.” You mutter to yourself.

Freshly showered, you were at Bobby’s five hours later. You turn the ignition off and step out of the car. The afternoon light was setting in, and you started to get nervous. Nothing seemed out of place, so what was the big deal? You opened the door and called for Bobby.

“Bobby, it’s me; what’s so important,”  You stopped as you looked in the living room. Bobby stood there, along with- Dean. You gasped. Dean smiled.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” He spoke. He went to walk towards you.

“Don’t move a muscle.” You say, grabbing your silver knife and keeping it under your shirt and pants.

“Y/N, I already did the checks, it’s him.” Your eyes looked over at Bobby and narrowed again.

“How do I know you’re Bobby?” Dean smiled.

“You’re good here; test me.” Dean held out his arm, and you did all the testing. When he didn’t react, you looked into his eyes, and tears started to form.

“You’re back.” You whispered.

“I’m back,” he said. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly. After a few minutes, he broke the hug and rubbed your arms.

“Bobby told me about Sam.” Hearing his name iced your heart over once more. You looked away from Dean.

“He made his choice; I made mine. I haven’t talked to him since I left.” Dean nodded his head.

“I was going to try to find him if you wanted to come.”

“Thanks, Dean, but I’ll pass.”  Dean sighed and nodded while Bobby said he was going and was going to finish getting packed. You hugged Dean again before ensuring he still had your number and left.

A few weeks after that, you saw Sam Winchester for the first time in months. You heard rumors from the roadhouse about everything going on with Demons and hunting in packs and were looking for a girl, but you never went and checked for yourself. You knew the brothers would be there. Instead, you took up your usual gigs, hoping to stay away from the war.

It was a little salt and burn hunt. You were dressed in your FBI outfit, questioning the latest victim’s wife when you heard it. That low rumble you used to ride in. You quickly finished up your goodbyes, gave her your card, and started to walk back to your car when they stepped out. Sam’s eyes were wide, and he stood frozen at the vehicle. Dean was walking around the car. Surprise flashed in his eyes, but he kept advancing towards you. Dean wrapped you in a hug, and you returned.

Sam walked up to you and Dean. His eyes stared into yours; his mouth kept opening like he was going to stay something but then would shut it again.

“Are you still seeing her?” It is all that came out of your mouth. The distaste was evident in your voice. Sam looked taken back for a second but then regained his composure.

“No.” That was all he was able to muster up and speak. You looked at Dean for confirmation.

“I haven’t seen her.” That is all he said. That raised suspicion in you. You decided to let it go.

“If you want to help on this case, I can tell you what I have gathered so far; I was about to go get lunch- you guys are buying.” You walk past them and get in your car, not waiting for them to reply. You drove to the diner you saw on the way to the victim's house and noticed the Impala was not too far behind you. You grabbed a booth at the restaurant, and the boys slid to the other side of you. After you three ordered it, you started discussing the case and everything you learned.

“So, what’s your theory?” Sam asked after you gave them everything you learned.

“These men are not correlated to anything except they all went to the same bar. They were all at the bar the night they died. I’m not sure I would have to go back and ask all the victim’s wives, but I think these men were all unfaithful in their marriages. See, Kathleen Voss’ husband was unfaithful and wanted to be with his mistress, who, get this, was a bartender at that bar, so he killed Kathleen and tried to cover it up. Of course, he was caught but died in jail the same way as all the other victims.”

“So, you think these men are sleeping with a bartender?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know if they are unfaithful with a bartender or just in general, but I’m assuming that’s where Kathleen sticks around since that’s where her husband started cheating on her.” The boys nodded their heads in agreement as our food came. You ate, they paid, and then you told them where you were staying. Before Sam could even have a chance to talk to you, you turned around and walked to your car.

Back at the hotel room, you let out tears that had been hiding behind your eyes the entire time you were around Sam. Old wounds opened, and while you gave a brave face, you were crumpling and fast. You headed for the whiskey in your bag and drank it straight from the bottle. The burn hurt on the way down, but you hoped the effects would start soon. You changed out of your FBI gear into lounge clothes to do more research on these men. When you were about to open your laptop, you heard a knock at your door. You grabbed your gun and made your way to open it. Sam.

“Can I come in?” He asked. You didn’t reply; you just opened the door for him. He walked in and stood in the middle of the room awkwardly. You set your gun down and folded your arms across your chest. Sam let out a breath and started talking.

“I know you are still pissed, hurt, sad, everything. I meant what I said. I don’t see her anymore. I haven’t had contact with her in weeks. There are many things I want to tell you that I’m going to tell you; I want to know if I still have a chance.” You looked at him like he was stupid.

“I left MONTHS ago. You only stopped seeing her WEEKS ago? You know that first month I was at Bobby’s? You know I didn’t tell him not to tell you where I was? You could have shown up any time you wanted to, Sam! You didn’t! Sure, you left messages on my phone, but let's be honest- you were still with HER! You still chose HER! Now you want to walk into my hotel room and ask if you have a chance when I haven’t seen you for months, and it’s only been a few weeks away from that demon? Do I look like a fucking convenience store to you? You want me back; you have to earn me back. That starts with no contact with her. That starts with you showing me you want to be with me.”  One tear left your eye while Sam just looked at you. He nodded his head and started to walk out of the room. Before he crossed over, he looked at you and said softly.

“I still love you.” You didn’t reply, and he walked back to his room. You shut the door and slid down until you were sitting on the floor, letting out all the emotions you had been holding in for months.

A little while later, in your measurement time, about half a bottle later, another knock sounded at your door. You got up and stumbled over to your door, opening and seeing Dean. He looked at your state and softened his eyes but then tensed again.

“We need to talk.” That sobered you. You nodded your head and let him in. Dean walked in and turned to face you.

“Sam lied to you.” That is all he said. Your jaw clenched.

“What do you mean?”

“He is still seeing that demon; I’m pretty sure they are together now.”

Red. That is what you saw. In your lounge clothes and all, you grabbed your gun and knife; Dean already had the demon knife on him that Ruby gave the boys a while ago.

“Where the fuck is he?” You asked. Dean led you to Sam’s room. He stopped in front of it.

“Kick it down, Dean.” You spoke. Dean complied, and both of you rushed into the room—the sight before you ripped your heart out and disgusted you simultaneously. Ruby was on top of Sam, no shirt, just a black lace bra and panties. Sam only had boxers on, and he was drinking her blood. His mouth and cheeks had blood on them, and when you two busted through the door, they broke apart, and it was all over his mouth.

Sam’s eyes were wide that he had just been caught, and Ruby had that stupid ass smug smile on her face that you remember all too well. You felt your face heat us as you locked eyes with the demon bitch.

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

[she-walks-on-starlight]

You Ruined Me (Do it Again)

a/n: Part 2 is here! I promise it will get juicy! Thanks to all who have liked it so far! My inbox is open for requests at the moment ✨

Warnings: drinking alcohol, referenced cheating, smoking, gambling, possessive!sevika, referenced sex (explicit!), choking kink, sexually explicit teasing.

Summary: Your first night out in a while after leaving your cheating ex does not end how you expected it to...but then what did you expect, going to her club?

Word Count: 1.3k

18+ | MEN AND MINORS DNI | 18+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Final

You stomp out of the bathroom, thoroughly worked up and now angry as hell. The temptation to find Sevika and slap the smirk off her face was overwhelming. She’s gone back to her poker game, dealing the cards effortlessly, barely sparing you a glance as she lights up a new joint. You watch as she clenches it in her teeth, moving it around her mouth as she inhaled. A lump formed in your throat as a petite brunette with a short pink skirt and matching halter top teetered over and sat in Sevika’s lap, whispering in her ear and sharing the joint with her.

You recognised her, one of Babette’s girls. Exactly the kind of company Sevika preferred.

Jinx appears out of thin air it seems and squeezes your arm. “You okay, sparky?”

You grinned at your nickname, courtesy of being an electrician in the lanes. You turned away from the poker tables, willing the urge to vomit away. You were here to dance with your best friend, not worry about whatever games Sevika was playing.

“I am now you’re here! Wanna dance some more?”

You spared one last fleeting glance at the gambling area. That’s when you saw her, glaring intently at you and Jinx. You frowned, not sure why she’s suddenly so fixated on you when you realise her eyes are trained on Jinx’s hand, still squeezing your arm. Her eyes narrowed as Jinx moved to take your hand instead.

“Sure am! Come on!”

As you both began to dance to the music, Jinx pulled you close. “You sure you’re okay, sparky? I saw you know who over there giving you the stink-eye.”

You sigh. “One minute I’m in the bathroom minding my own business, putting more lippy on when she grabs me outta nowhere and kisses me-”

Jinx’s grip on you tightens. “Wait WHAT?! Are you okay? Did she hurt you? Where is she? I’m gonna tear her a new a-”

You laugh and pat Jinx’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I didn’t mind really…”

You bite your lip as you remember the thrill that tingled through your veins, becoming a wanting ache between your thighs, begging for Sevika to make it better.

Searing bites to your neck as she claimed you, possessed you, marked you for all Zaun to see. You were hers, nobody else’s not that you’d ever want anyone but her.

You remembered her strong hands around your throat, squeezing tight as she reminded you that you were hers while she made you come around her fingers.

You had been hers, willingly. You would’ve followed her anywhere. It was just a shame she didn’t seem to feel the same way, in the end.

Jinx is staring at you incredulously, clicking her fingers at your dazed expression. “Y/n! You can’t seriously be telling me that you’re getting on that train again!”

You sigh, the throbbing of your pussy and the feeling of Sevika’s eyes on you making it hard for you to concentrate. Deep down, you know Jinx is right. You and Sevika had passion, fire, and raw sexual energy. You had never had better sex but that was all you two could offer each other. You’d tried the relationship thing, and it had crashed and burned just like your friends had said it would. Sevika was a player, and old habits die hard.

“I know, I know. I won’t go there. Just felt really good to be kissed by her like that, just like old times.”

Jinx huffed. “Please spare me the details. She’s no good for you, sparky. In fact, I know just how to get her off your mind.”

She pulled at your hand, leading you towards the bar. Jinx was a ball of excitement, as per usual. “We need shots! Hey, bar boy, we need tequila over here, stat!”

A group of girls giggling nearby caught your attention, one of them the cute blonde Jinx had danced with earlier. You eye Jinx knowingly as she stares in wonder at the cute blonde. You nudge her forward.

“Go talk to her, Jinx! Buy her a drink!”

Jinx grins at you. “Don’t need to tell me twice, sparky!”

She bounds up to the girl who giggles cutely as Jinx introduces herself, and you smile proudly as she accepts Jinx’s offer of a drink. Leaving Jinx to her impromptu date, you thank the bartender as he delivers two shots of tequila with salt and lime, as well as another espresso martini. You know the bartender well; he knows it’s your favourite cocktail.

As you sip, you survey the other people clamouring around the bar, spotting a woman leaning leisurely against one of the tall tables. The woman certainly looked older, older than Sevika even, but she was a smoke-show. She towered over most of the other club patrons, with dark, smooth skin accentuated by her white peplum dress. She was clearly a gym lover, her arm and thigh muscles bulging, much to your appreciation. Her hair was a dark grey, with silvery highlights, curled ringlets forming a beautiful afro. She sipped lazily at her drink, swirling the glass, clearly unfazed by the dancing partygoers around her. She was stunning, and the way your core dampened at the sight of her meant that she would be more than adequate. If Sevika was gonna mess you around, you’d find someone else to fuck you right.

You approached the table under the guise of putting the drinks down somewhere, while you put on a show of looking for Jinx even though you knew exactly where she was. You’d watched her lead the cute blonde out where the alleyway was about 5 minutes ago. Now it was time to cast a reel and see if the woman was interested. She hadn’t acknowledged you when you moved to the table but that didn’t mean anything. You innocently dropped the straw for your espresso martini onto the floor, allowing a gentle blush to grace your cheeks.

“Oh, I’m so clumsy.”

You bend over to pick up the straw, and wobble ever so slightly in your heels. You feel a presence at your back, sturdy hands holding you in place as you stand straight, the woman looking at you curiously.

Bingo.

You smile coyly. “Oh! Thank you, nearly went over then, didn’t I?”

The woman cocked her head to one side, analysing you. She ran a large hand from your exposed collarbones, up your neck until she reached your face and stroked your cheek.

“My, my, aren’t you a pretty little thing?”

Her voice was low, and very sexy. Your cunt pulsed as her warm hands caressed your face, imaging those long, thick fingers taking you to the brink and pushing you over the edge.

You arch an eyebrow at her but smile warmly in thanks. “I do try my best to look pretty, you never know who might be looking.”

The woman leaned forward, her scarred face grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Well, I’m certainly looking now, darling.”

Hook, line and sinker.

You flutter your eyelashes at her and push one of the shots towards her. Time for your winning move.

“Tequila?”

The woman smirks, nodding her acceptance. You pass her the saltshaker and a lime wedge. You watch as she licks the salt, observing her wide tongue and revelling in the coiling feeling in your lower belly. She drinks the tequila with no fuss, biting the lime wedge hard.

“I haven’t drunk tequila in an age! Delicious! But it is your turn now, sweet thing. I’m Ambessa, by the way.”

You wink at her. “I’m y/n.”

You take the saltshaker from her, making a show of curling your pink tongue as you licked salt from your wrist. You swallowed the shot of tequila with ease, years of drinking with Jinx meant tequila was basically like water to you now. Bringing the lime wedge to your lips, you teasingly rubbed it against your plump lower lip before biting into it with a salacious moan.

Ambessa isn’t the only one in the club watching your little game with keen interest. You’re too busy flirting with Ambessa, failing to notice Sevika’s eyes on you, her expression positively murderous.

Ambessa’s eyes were dark with lust. “Would you like to dance, sweet girl?”

[diana-bluewolf]

It’s the fanfic I wrote about in the previous post

—------------------------------

Word count: ~4500

Warnings: passive suicidal ideation (don’t ask me how I ended up here with a funny comic as a base); m/m; not proofread.

English is not my first language - sorry for the mistakes!  

Additional tags: Ominis/M!MC, hurt-comfort, demisexual MC, SFW

Summary: Chris had read that “I’d die for you” thing in some books. It didn’t make any sense to him because it didn’t sound like a big deal. He’d die for himself. But when he thought about Ominis’s words echoing around the Undercroft, he realised that for the moon-eyed boy he was ready to make a much more labour-consuming sacrifice. 

He’d live for him.

—------------------------------

When I feel so alone out here And freedom means I am lost When every day seems a slow-motion suicide You reignite my lust for life Lust for Life Song by Poets of the Fall

"Guess who's back!" 

Sebastian raised his head from the book he was reading on his bed to find Chris at the doorway to their dorm. 

"Oh, you were away?" teased Sebastian, grinning and arching his eyebrow. Ominis, who was resting on a small couch next to the fireplace, rolled his eyes and tilted his head towards Chris, smiling.

It was Friday evening. The lessons had recently ended, and the only thing keeping the students indoors was the spring rain outside. Besides, the N.E.W.T.s were approaching, so there was no time to relax.

“Aww, it’s so nice to be missed,” said Chris theatrically as he threw his shabby case on the floor next to his bed and shot Sebastian a smirk. The green-eyed boy was soaking wet after walking in the rain and took out his wand to dry himself, but instead came over to Sebastian and shook his head like a dog, spraying his friend with water.

Sebastian laughed and tried to kick Chris away, but he dodged, smirking.

“Well, I have to admit,” Sebastian said, watching Chris casting the drying spell on himself, ”it was a bit problematic to maintain the same level of chaos in the castle for the last two weeks. But I did my be –”

“Two weeks and four days,” objected Ominis hastily.  

Chris blinked in surprise and then beamed at the blond, who now was pursing his lips as if he said something wrong. Apart from that, Ominis looked just as collected and neat as usual, but something was off. Apparently, Chris got lost in his thoughts while watching Ominis because he didn't hear Sebastian asking him a question.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Chris returned to reality, realising that Sebastian was staring at him with a strange expression.

Sebastian suddenly clicked his tongue and exclaimed, "Blimey, look at the time! I've got to dash." He shut his book and jumped off the bed, heading towards the door.

"Wha – Why?" Chris furrowed, puzzled by his friend's sudden haste. 

"No time to explain – an urgent matter!" exclaimed Sebastian. As he ran past Chris, he tripped over and crashed into the other boy, shoving him towards the couch where Ominis was sitting. "My bad, guys! See you later!" And with that, he disappeared in the doorway.

Chris lost balance and landed atop shocked Ominis. He only managed to fling out his hand and prop it against the wall behind the couch to prevent himself from smashing into the blind boy at full speed. 

Ominis twitched and breathed out madly, “What the hell are you –“ trying to feel the intruder with his hands to understand what had happened. 

“It’s my knee,” commented Chris quietly when Ominis’s hand grasped the mentioned part of his body. 

“Sorry, I have no idea what gave Sebastian the impression I needed some flying practice,” uttered Chris. He attempted to stand up but froze halfway, looking at Ominis under him, their faces barely an inch apart.

Ominis, who could feel Chris’s breath on his lips, forced himself to speak through clenched teeth, "Oh, I will organise some flying practice for him later."

From the Astronomy tower.

An urgent matter. Of course, Sebastian did it on purpose. He was the only one who knew. 

_________

It had happened the night before.

A thud had pulled Sebastian out of his dream, and he had found Ominis on the floor on all fours, tangled in his blanket and groping around with trembling hands for his wand.

“Hey,” Sebastian kneeled beside his best friend, “I’m here, buddy. What has happened?” He found Ominis’s wand on the floor and pressed it into the blind boy’s palm. “Looking for this?” 

Ominis grasped the wand and sat on the floor, leaning heavily on his bed. 

“What has happened?” repeated the question Sebastian. “Was it a nightmare?”

Ominis, throwing his head backwards, only nodded slightly, his lips pursed.

“I thought they were gone,” said Sebastian, sitting on the floor next to Omins and realising it had been a long time since something like this had happened. 

“I thought so, too,” Ominis finally uttered, “but…it’s just…I guess it’s a…”

Sebastian waited for his usually composed and eloquent friend to find the right words in the silence of their dorm. 

“Him,” Ominis finally managed to say as if his throat was squeezed. 

_________

If someone at the start of his fifth year had told Ominis how much his opinion about Chris Mongrel would change, he would have offered them to visit St Mungo, just in case, to check their mental state. The new student had been just a class clown with a finger in every pie, not to mention that he had seemed to keep pulling Sebastian into dangerous activities.  

The Neophyte. It was what Ominis used to call that new show-off because the Heir of Slytherin was irritated by the new boy’s real name, pronounced by Sebatian too often. The new fifth year was manipulative, could lie with the most sincere expression and was the last person Ominis could think good of.

Nevertheless, of all people, it was Chris who eventually turned into the only source of warmth that could at least slightly dispel the cold of Dark Magic that Ominis found himself surrounded by - the cold of Sebastian’s despair. It was Chris who made great efforts to save Ominis’s friendship with Sebastian despite all the pressure he had on his shoulders due to the goblin rebellion. It was Chris who was there for him when Ominis needed it most, and if not for him, Ominis probably would have done another thing he would regret forever - turning Sebastian in. 

But then…Then Professor Fig died.

Chris became withdrawn and indifferent to anything around him, barely communicating with anyone. Even when he did, he was rude and obnoxious. By the start of their sixth year, Chris pushed away everyone. They didn’t talk for months. The only thing he paid attention to was lessons and schoolwork. Chris became an even more brilliant student than before. The teachers loved him. The students kept away. 

Some tried to bully him, but it looked like Chris just waited for this. His revenge was cruel enough to get him expelled. But the Hero of Hogwarts could make an innocent face when needed, and since he was the teachers’ favourite, he got away with everything.

Meanwhile, Ominis struggled with nightmares more than usual after the events of the fifth year. The scream of the muggle that he tortures with Crucio… this time followed by Avada Kedavra spell cast by him. Anne cries after burying Solomon, but this time, she blames Ominis for helping Sebastian find the relic. Sebastian killed his uncle, but this time, Ominis meets his best friend in Azkaban after turning him in. Chris disappears from the hospital wing in the turmoil after the fight for Hogwarts, but this time is found dead later. 

Ominis often couldn't fall asleep, and since being trapped with his thoughts in the night silence of their dorm was unbearable, he came to the common room after lights out. Chris seemed to deal with the same, so they often encountered each other there.  

The brunet usually would leave to sneak out of the castle without saying a word. As Ominis found out later, at best, Chris would sleep, curling up beside his "little" pet, Misha the Wolf, in the Forbidden Forest, because it was giving him the illusion of not being alone. At worst, he would indulge in that habit. The one that made Ominis feel cold inside. The habit of chasing for the opportunity to die. 

No, Chris didn't actually try to kill himself on purpose. But he never endeavoured to keep his life safe either. The boy simply didn't care. Whenever there was an opportunity to risk his life – Merlin knew how Chris managed to find them, whether it be killing a poorly trained troll or wandering into a cave full of Acromantulas just to find a thing of sentimental value for one of the nearby villagers – he would go for it eagerly. 

It lasted until the middle of their sixth year, when one night, Ominis found Chris bleeding in the Undercroft. The brunet didn’t want to go to the hospital; he had no Wiggenweld potions left and was generally too weak to care for himself. Ominis knew some basic healing spells – he had to learn them because of his idiot of a friend (for both of them, actually). 

Ominic treated the other boy’s wounds, clenching his teeth in silence. When he finished and was about to leave without saying a word, he heard that indifferent voice with a hint of mockery. The first words Chris had told him in the last half year.

"Thank you, Dr Gaunt. I'm looking forward to the next appointment."

Here, the author doubts whether it would be offensive to present Ominis’s answer as it was to the noble ears of the reader. So here is the censored version:

"Your life belongs to you, and I can't make you treat your belongings as I want, so I just ask you – No, I beg you – Keep. It. Safe. You lost someone you hold dear. I understand that. But you know what? You are not the only one here who came through this. And now you're endangering the life of another person I care about - and you don't even give me a chance to help him! You did so much to save my friendship with Sebastian. Why don't you even try to save ours?!" 

As mentioned above, it didn't sound like that exactly. It was pronounced in a mad voice and with a couple or two eloquent curses that were odd to hear from Ominis. Chris also didn't yet know that it was possible to beg someone for something by grabbing that someone by the collar and slamming them into a wall. 

Ominis had no idea how or why, but it seemed to have an effect. The next night, when they came across in the common room, Chris suddenly said “Hi” before leaving. Despite them being alone, Ominis wasn’t even sure it was addressed to him. The other night, they exchanged a couple of awkward words. The next night, they had a little meaningless conversation about a book Ominis was reading to distract himself. The night after, Chris suddenly offered to read aloud to Ominis. 

The next time, Chris suddenly stopped reading and put away the book to apologise for being a jerk all that time. That brought a string of heated discussions when slipping to blaming or resentment alternated with climbing the steep mountain of understanding each other.

Not every night was smooth. Too much had happened. Too much they both closed their hearts. But none of them stopped coming to the common room after lights out. 

Eventually, they rebuilt the wall they set up between each other into a cosy little house, in which both of them felt comfortable and knew where to put their shoes so that they wouldn't irritate the other one or which plaid to choose to cover the housemate when he was cold. It was the house they didn't want to leave, the house they could call home. In fact, it was the only place both of them could call home.

Chris became softer with others, too, and even though he still remained true to himself with most of them, being detached and manipulative, there was another side of him that only Ominis knew. The Chris, who was selfless, caring and reliable. Some might say he was too caring, as annoyingly overprotective as one can be. 

But for Ominis, it was an oasis he could immerse himself in and dissolve his unsettling thoughts. Floating in the void of his blindness and being raised in a family where the threat could come from any direction, Ominis perceived the world as precarious, to say the least. The price for this was his nightmares. 

Ominis used to hate nights, but now he couldn’t wait for when he and Chris would meet alone, following their unspoken tradition. He loved their conversations or just the silence they shared when they were too tired to talk, and he especially found pleasure in hearing the other’s voice, which was reading to him, quite deep and low for the owner’s age – the voice that soothed Ominis and filled him with warmth, the voice that made him feel safe.

First, Ominis began to fall asleep easier. Then, his nightmares started to fade until they dissolved almost completely. And then, in their seventh year, he found himself having new dreams. These were… good. Too good, but also causing concerns – dreams that were inappropriate towards a friend. 

Ominis wasn’t ashamed of them and cherished this new feeling that had bloomed in the soil, soaked with guilt, grief and fear. However, the boy was not going to reveal his secret and risk what he obtained, especially since Chris had never shown interest in a romantic relationship with anyone. 

Little did Ominis know how Chris’s absence would impact him. The longer the other was away, the more often Ominis woke up terrified because the old nightmares were returning. Last night seemed to be the last straw, so when Sebastian asked him what was happening to him, Ominis couldn’t stand it anymore. He needed to get all the emotions boiling in him off his chest. All the time, he wanted to tell Chris the truth, but was afraid. The way he missed the voice he loved so badly. 

He had told Sebastian the truth. 

He had fallen in love with their friend. 

The friend whose presence had made his nightmares disappear.   

_________

Ominis had made Sebastian swear he wouldn't tell Chris anything. But Sebastian wouldn't be Sebastian if he hadn't found a loophole in his promise. Why would he wait for his friends to take the first step towards each other if he could just throw one into another? It was a much more efficient way to shorten distances than steps, wasn't it?

If Ominis' thoughts weren't occupied by his current predicament and the panic growing in him because of Chris's proximity, he would be mad at Sebastian. Or should he thank him? How else could Ominis get a chance to become closer to the one who, although attentive in general, was absolutely oblivious when it came to romantic feelings? And thinking about it – really, how? Like this, by accident? That wasn't right.  

But Chris was so close. His warmth. His weight, pressing Ominis into the couch. His smell – the mixture of ink, pine and …was it Wiggenweld potion? 

Just like before. 

Did Chris need it again recently? Ominis hoped it had stayed in the past. 

Perhaps this concerning thought was the only thing keeping him from pulling Chris closer and reducing the little distance between them to nothing. In fact, Ominis knew that he had to push Chris away but hoped that Chris would be the one to get off the couch (and, well, him) first. For some reason, the brunet didn't hurry to do it.

Meanwhile, Chris used the opportunity to look at Ominis closer. The blond's face was crimson now, but it wasn't that that bothered Chris – just a normal human reaction to a violation of personal space. Chris had difficulties understanding what personal space is. Of course, it's better to keep away from people as much as possible – it's simply easier this way. But if you already interact with them – what's wrong if you stand too close to someone? 

But it mattered to others, and Ominis, Chris did know, valued his personal space even more than people usually did. Chris would have stepped away immediately if not for a detail that caught his attention – the dark circles under Ominis’s eyes. 

Just like before. 

When Chris had left half a month ago, he had thought Omnis would finally have an opportunity to rest from him. Deep down, he was always afraid – what if Ominis was spending so much time with him out of sheer politeness or, worse, pity? 

In his fifth year, Chris had been sure that if people were “kind” to him, it was just because they needed something from him. Why had Sebastian been so friendly with him when he had arrived at Hogwarts? Obviously, because of ancient magic, which could potentially be a key to healing Anne. All this nonsense about “friendship” was just a convention, a game played as long as it was beneficial, a fairytale to fantasise about. 

But then there was Ominis, who didn’t conform to the idea that friendship was a mere cooperation. For some reason, he cared for Sebastian no matter what, despite all the disadvantages. And then Chris began to doubt. What if friendship really existed as it was described in books? At least in rare cases? Inside, he always wanted to believe in it, but his rational side made fun of his naivety. But what if he did find a proof? 

It became important for Chris to save the friendship between the two Slytherins at all costs because if it fell, so would all his childish hopes that he, too, could be someone’s friend one day. 

Who was he to Ominis? Chris didn't lie to himself – of course, he was just a convenient tool to handle Sebastian. Anyway, he idolised Ominis like a magizoologist would worship a unique fantastic beast they had just discovered. 

And then Fig died. 

Sitting there, somewhere under Hogwarts, alone, absolutely alone as usual, next to the body of the only person closest to the notion of family Chris had ever had, the boy got mad at himself. 

Why is he so obsessed with others? Why does he still hope so desperately to obtain the illusion of family? To find a magical creature named ‘friend’ from fairytales? Why does he keep hurting himself with shards of shattered hope when he can just be alone and not care about anyone?

Sink or swim. It was always his motto in the orphanage. He was alone, and he always would be. Why did he suddenly start to hope for something else in Hogwarts? Stupid, he was so stupid. It was time to accept it and grow up. 

He had never valued his life. But after Fig had died, Chris started to hate that he was alive and often sneaked out of the castle in the hope that a particular goblin, troll or poacher would become the last.

Too bad he was good at surviving. 

Until that time in the Undercroft. Chris was finally so close to ending this meaningless turmoil. And then Ominis intervened. Of course, The Saint and Noble one had to heal The Loser to be even more perfect. 

But when Ominis was pressing him against the wall and kept yelling at him, Chris realised that the blond wasn't mad because of Chris's disdainful and arrogant attitude. The words that Ominis was spitting into his face weren't the words Chris had expected to hear. 

Ominis was desperate. For some reason, he was really afraid for Chris and valued his life more than Chris himself ever did – not for something, but in spite of everything, as if Chris were someone like Sebastian to him.

After Ominis had left, his words echoed in Chris's ears for a long time as he slid down the wall onto the dirty floor of the Undercroft. The person Ominis cared about? Their friendship? Could it be that Chris had been Ominis's friend all that time? The thought was totally new and shocking for him.

It was hard to believe in it. 

Impossible. 

But doesn’t rage often work like Veritaserum? And Ominis had been mad. He had been so mad that Chris feared that if he had said a word, Ominis would have killed him on the spot and become even madder.

When Hope, the dying creature with broken wings inside of Chris, tried to draw attention to itself, the boy became irritated that he wanted to listen to it again instead of kicking it away. But this new theory was worth investigating. What was he losing? 

Starting to speak with Ominis again was one of the hardest things he had ever done (and he had defeated Ranrok). What if he understood it all wrong and would just impose himself on the blind boy? What if their last interaction had at last destroyed whatever they had had? What if Ominis would just push him away, laughing? But the experiment should be continued. 

The results exceeded Chris’s wildest expectations. Ominis not only accepted him as if nothing had happened and gave him enough time to gather himself together to apologise. For some miraculous reason, Chris felt that Ominis needed his mere presence – not something from him – even when they just sat together next to the fireplace, listening to the quiet song of fire. 

Following the sink-or-swim motto, Chris wasn't used to caring for someone. But now he was ready to give anything at all, only to see Ominis smiling, to make him happy. And every time Chris succeeded, he couldn't be happier himself. He almost forgot that itching desire to find an excuse to risk his life. 

But when he was away, the old doubts began to haunt him. Why would someone so perfect as Ominis want to be around someone like Chris, whose life was just a mess? The guy without a past, broken present, and a future, whose arrival he was endangering. 

The more time he spent away from Ominis, the louder the voice in his head pushed him to do something stupid until it finally got the better of him. 

The incident with ashwinders only cost him one Wiggenweld potion. 

But it was enough to bring back memories of Ominis beating some sense into him in the Undercroft.

No matter what, Ominis wanted him safe. 

Chris had read that “I’d die for you” thing in some books. It didn’t make any sense to him because it didn’t sound like a big deal. He’d die for himself. But when he thought about Ominis’s words echoing around the Undercroft, he realised that for the moon-eyed boy he was ready to make a much more labour-consuming sacrifice. 

He’d live for him.

So Chris had made sure the last incident had been really the last one. 

Anyway, he had missed Ominis deeply, so seeing him today was a relief. But Merlin - the blond looked so tired. 

“You didn’t sleep well recently”, Chris said quietly, slowly running his right thumb under Ominis’s left eye.

That voice, the voice Ominis loved and missed so much, sounded so gentle, so concerned, and so…close. The touch felt like an electric jolt. Ominis’s head was spinning, the heart pounding in his ears and racing so fast, forcing his breathing to quicken, but it was a trap because he inhaled more of Chris’s smell now, and that was the end of Ominis’s composure. 

He reached out his hand and lowered it on Chris’s back of the head. Someone stop him! He ran his fingers through the short strands. That wasn't right! Clinging to the last echoes of reason, Ominis whispered, pulling Chris closer, “Aren’t you going to stand up? Someone might see us and jump to conclus –” 

The door flung open, revealing one of their housemates, a boy with jet-black hair and chocolate eyes, holding a book.

“Hey Ominis, you – ” he broke off. The short pause was followed by a flow of frantic “Sorry!” and the sound of rapidly fading footsteps.

Chris jumped off the couch and glanced at the retreating intruder. That was an impressive running speed, he had to admit. Perhaps they scared the boy even more than he did them. “Like this?” he asked, amused.

“Precisely like this,” Ominis sounded bitter. The warmth, the smell, the weight – everything disappeared, leaving him with his heart beating wildly. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers tightly. 

Chris tilted his head, watching the blond. Was Ominis so upset because that boy misinterpreted what he saw? The brunet wouldn’t care about it, but Ominis looked frustrated, which was something to care about. Chris had to fix it. 

”I…I will go and try to find him. Explain that it was a mistake,” he said, trying not to imagine what it would look like. 

Hi buddy! It wasn’t what you think it was. I fell on him. What? No, I normally don’t fall on people like this, so yeah, you’re safe. Chris shook his head. Maybe he would need to come up with a lie that would sound more plausible than the truth. But it was the problem of the future Chris.

“Right,” Ominis simply brought out. Chris was about to leave but suddenly stopped.

“Imissdyu,” he blurted, turning to the couch but averting his minty eyes from the boy on it, even though Ominis couldn't see him.

”I beg your pardon?” Ominis was baffled. If he didn’t know any better, he just heard, “I missed you.” But, of course, he knew better. Phineas Black would sooner smile at students heartily than Chris Mongrel would speak about feelings. 

"I…" It was Chris's turn to grow red even more intensively than Ominis a couple of minutes before. He knew the words were correct – he had read in books about people saying them to each other in similar circumstances, but Chris couldn't bring himself to repeat them. 

"Please, don't make me say it again. You heard it right."

After a short pause, he added, suddenly interested in the stone pattern on the floor, "Can I read to you tonight? I mean, as usual." Then, he would ask why Ominis didn't sleep well.

"I hoped you'd ask this," the blind boy finally smiled. Then, he would ask what made Chris drink the Wiggenweld potion.

“See you later then,” beamed Chris, relieved. He finally looked at the moon-eyed boy and was about to head out when Ominis’s voice stopped him.

“Chris?”

“Mhm?” 

“I missed you, too.” Only Ominis could smile like that – like the warm light of the lamppost sparkling on the snow. “Hear you later.”

“I…khm…yeah…Gotta go.” Chris made a few steps backwards toward the way out, still watching Omins, then turned around and crashed into a doorpost. “They… have to make the doors wider,” he said, leaving.

Ominis chuckled softly, listening to Chris’s fading footsteps. Then, a wave of panic washed over him again as he realised that mere minutes ago he could have ruined everything, succumbing to temptation. He rubbed his face with his palms, exhaling audibly. What was he thinking about? 

But now, everything was right. And tonight he will sleep better. Thank Merlin, the point of no return had not been reached. Or should he say thanks to the student that had broken into their dorm? 

Perhaps that guy will have another visitor today. 

------------------

The song from the epigraph. I wrote Chris's part while listening to it.

[kaontic]

*Long post*

They are recovering from being exposed to a p.o.j.

Megs. I’m talking about Megs. He’s my second favorite villain of all time rn (tied with Star actually), but he is the ultimate p.o.j (piece of junk).

In fact, this issue, def makes me want to change my pfp, use the Transfixatron on Megs in his gun mode, and bury his aft in the more than 200ft deep mine shaft at the bottom of this crater fr.

Obviously it’s not deep enough but still.

Or you know what scratch that—because I would just be vandalizing a cool site, wouldn’t I? With JUNK!

*Looks down*

Yeah. I said it. Why are you even here rn—? Do you want me to discuss the time you were responsible for Brawl m[REDACTED]ing a puppy?

Thundercracker: What?

DO YOU?!

Idc if he “just” wanted to capture the dog. He “just” wanted to capture the dog to make dog soldiers.

Not even Joker would do that.

And in this continuity and this issue, we find out that he has no problem with and is EAGER to recruit youngling soldiers.

Or in other words, Cybertronians who have not fully developed their brain chips yet who are thus easier to manipulate.

(God this is gonna be a long post—)

Optimus, Grimlock, any Autobot—you better have tried to talk/keep Bee out of fighting like you did with Carly. Or at least, be real with him and have the “Prime told me there’d be days like this!” conversation.

Cliff and Arcee too despite us knowing damn well that they will fight no matter what.

Because, after all, at least in the US, you can join the military at 18 (or 17 with parental consent). Furthermore, it’s a sad fact of life, but many underage people fight in conflicts all over. It happens and is happening and I’m glad this has finally been (at least as far as I’ve seen and remember) explicitly acknowledged in a franchise about war.

I’m gonna try to be more organized about this but here are more things to note:

. We don’t know any Cybertronians’ official age. That’s never been a thing, because you’d have to calculate, and Hasbro ain’t doin’ that math.

. That being stated tho, based on the dialogue, Star/Ulchtar in this flashback could be anywhere from 14-19 years old in human years.

. It seems like he has some part-time job. Mood.

. This is the first time in canon I’ve seen a youngling Starscream join the Decepticons. In G1, he was an adult (former full-time scientist right?). In the WFC games, an adult. In TF One, an adult (and even older than Megs? I mean Steve Buscemi’s voice does not age fr so—).

. Kup looks significantly younger here than he does in Issue #7. That is Kup up there, right? Like middle-aged I guess? ⬆️

(Oh man…how is Hot Rod going to react…RIP)

. Um…that information from Issue #1.

Ok ok ok—I really need to focus here—

. When Genvo gets blasted, he falls forward into Ulchtar’s arms. I’m no physicist, but this means he must have been shot from the back, right?

. Optimus to me seems to appear from behind Ulchtar (in the other direction).

. Optimus presumably does not hurt Ulchtar (or even notice him?), which makes sense (if he saw Ulchtar). He’s unarmed.

. Optimus doesn’t have the same gun he did in Issue #1 here, and he has no gun at all in the Energon Universe Special sh** how am I supposed to compare—

Holy scrap I scare myself. O_O

. Megs’ fusion cannon cools fast.

. Megs knows that Ulchtar has brothers (“brothers” can also refer to comrades. As in “brothers-in-arms”).

. To Genvo, it’s not a matter of “if” Jetfire and Ulchtar join. It’s “when”. He knew more than he was able to let on too.

. Megs was able to answer Ulchtar’s question…despite him asking it in a low voice to himself? And from farther away? What?

. Megs, why the hell were you smiling when you made that claim in the EUS? That was my first 🚩, I just forgot to mention it before. Don’t you care about Cybertron? What is your deal? How old are you? HOW OLD IS OPTIMUS? HOW OLD IS JETFIRE NOW??????? THEY DIDN’T AGE THE SAME DUE TO THE CRASH—Oh wait right Void Rivals.

. Like no wonder Skybound Star acts so immature and violent, and maybe even resentful of Jetfire leaving him (which explains his hostility that caught Jetfire off guard).

In G1 he acts bratty, but he’s always been portrayed as an adult, so I didn’t expect this I just thought—FRAG— 😭

. I think we can all agree here that this is still not an excuse to lash out at the innocent, so Carly still deserves to get justice/his aft (idk [insert theme about revenge here]). But also Megs. Frag Megs, like honestly (I didn’t even like TF One Megs by the end). 😒

. And this is exactly how I imagine Megs recruiting his victims followers, especially when he’s interested in particular ones (it freaking happens in my AU but anyway— 😀).

Step 1: Show up at the right moment, when they are at their lowest. Act nice, very nice, and make yourself look less intimidating, by changing into something that’s not only small, but also capable of protection. Hence, a gun (gun-tank hybrid whatever—maybe he’s a triple changer like my AU).

It’s his way of communicating that he trusts you/sees your potential, and that you better could trust him because he will protect you, and guide you, and care for you, etc.— He’s totally not luring you into a false sense of security so he could use you. 🙂🫠

Step 2: Use information you know (to get even more personal) and high emotions to your advantage.

Step 3: ?????????????

Step 4: Profit until you get what’s coming to you.

Dammit why is he so magnetic? Forget the fusion cannon, that’s the scariest thing about him people!

My overall theory:

Genvo tragically said too much. Maybe he was trying to impress and gain Megs’ favor (somebody who he already looks up to), so he mentioned their (or just Ulchtar’s) clan (part of the Cybertronian defense force? Oh boy).

They’re numerous, fliers, and most valuably of all, some are outliers (have powers). Skywarp’s teleportation. The Rainmakers’ acid. Sunstorm’s radiation. Oh, how destructive that would be in a fight…

So, he put a tracker/recorder on Genvo (with or without his knowledge), wanting to find out what the clan’s deal was. Or maybe he or Soundwave just straight up stalked them via their alt modes, I wouldn’t be surprised. Are they interested in a side? Apparently not, and for Megs that’s a problem. Let’s make them interested.

Akin to the Aligned novels, he blows their territory up, intending to blame it on the Autobots. Genvo, perhaps aware of Megs’ plan/true intentions, is merely one loose end to tie.

In the end, Genvo wasn’t special or that useful, but he made for good fridge stuffing.

Idk how Omega Supreme factors into this. Maybe Optimus did blast Genvo. Nevertheless, Megs once again proves that he is the biggest selfish douchebag who cares more about himself than Cybertron’s future (unless proven otherwise?).

And I hope Carly wins/finds happiness along with Spike. Peace out. ✌️

[pikahlua]

Fourteen Days of MHA: Day 7

First Impressions

I've had something of a day, so I couldn't come up with much for this one. But since the topic is first impressions, I kinda felt like this would be the best one to use some unfinished stuff of mine? Stuff that's likely never gonna BE finished. Basically this is an excerpt from one of my write-ups that is a reenactment of my first impressions of Katsuki Bakugou the first time I watched MHA.

[excerpt begins below the cut]

Season 1: Episodes 1-2

I hate shounen rival characters. No really.

I find them repetitive, reductive, and tropey as all hell. They don’t read like real people to me. They don’t make any sense to me. As far as I can tell, they just exist to be difficult, to represent some boiled-down theme of competition that must contradict the protagonist’s perspective for the sake of being a foil. It’s just a mechanism to provide challenges to the protagonist when the storyteller can’t find a way to come up with creative new challenges. They’re all basically the same character with the same personality with the same hangups with the same insecurities with the same “character development,” and if you’ve seen one you’ve seen ‘em all.

Enter Katsuki Bakugou.

This basic bitch.

On principle I hate him. I hate his stupid little smug face. I hate his voice. I hate his goals. I hate what he does and how he thinks.

Actually, hate is too strong a word. Because what I really hate is being subjected to the monotony of another predictable rival/lancer character. So here I am, praying for a sign that there will be some sort of break in this monotony. Please, MHA, prove me wrong.

Okay, not gonna lie, this shot did something to my heart.

Oh? Oh, is he actually insightful? Are we gonna resolve his arrogant shit this soon?

I’m in shock too, Izuku.

...oh.

Oh great. Total slow burn. [heavy sigh]

Heh. Points for the lampshade.

Wait, is this show self-aware?

Season 1: Episodes 3-4

Okay Katsuki clearly took something away from that experience because he is doing the whole anime-boy-staring-out-the-window-in-contemplation thing.

Whatever. Aloof rival alert. Except it’s not an alert because they’re all like that.

Whoa, that escalated quickly!

Oh. He’s just like that. Gotcha.

That’s...actually notable, since “that day” was sometime in April and now it’s February. Okay, something’s definitely up, but I’m just not sure which version of The Rival we’re dealing with here. And maybe if I cared, I’d try to figure it out. But I don’t care enough to stop watching and think about it, so, meh, I’ll let the show tell me when we get there. [/the most naive]

God, I relate too much to both sides of the interaction.

Um. “Friends?” Is that-? Are you implying-?

Are you just a grump?

Oh, okay, I see what’s been up. He’s totally aware of how awesome Izuku is, and he’s jealous or in denial. Understandable, since he wants to be the top hero. Sucks to be the rival, my dude.

Actually, wait, if he’s been aware of Izuku’s greatness since episode 1 or 2, he’s like one of the few characters in this world who seems to get it? Which is...kind of surprising for this early on?

Season 1: Episodes 5-7

Wait, what?

Are you telling me he’s actually hot shit? Fucking great. Ugh.

Oh, oh my god, the show IS self-aware! Oh okay I’m totally here for this shit!

Oh, it’s a CATCHPHRASE.

[end of excerpt]

You already know how it all ends lol.

[meowmeowriley]

@forestshadow-wolf Had asked about Duo Fatui, and you know what? Fuck it! Have what will eventually be the opening to the fic ❤

Ghost and Soap are placed on desk duty for a year after an op gone sideways. They decide to make the best of it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Captain price roared as he stormed into the med bay.

Soap and Ghost were both laid up in separate cots, on either side of the room. Both now stared at him, wide eyed after his outburst.

"Sir," Ghost started but Price was not going to hear him out.

"No! Soap, what the hell were you thinking?!"

"Sir," Soap attempted to speak but Price cut him off as well.

"What the fuck were you thinking, giving a civilian your plate carrier?" Price seethed.

"Sir, he had important intel, we couldn't afford to lose him, and our route to exfil was taking heavy fire." Soap spit out his words quickly, probably to avoid being cut off again.

"Exactly sergeant, heavy fire that you took! You were shot, and you're a hell of a lot more important than some random scientist!" Price could feel his face getting red as he yelled. "And you!" He turned to face Ghost. "Now you're out of commission, because of his bloody fuck up!" He gestured sharply at a pouting Soap.

"We're the same blood type, I wasn't about to lose him over something I could easily help with, Captain." Ghost said flatly. To anyone else it would seem like Ghost was calm, detached even. Price could tell he was holding back his own anger.

Price found himself pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He wasn't actually angry at them. Soap had saved a man with insanely useful information. Ghost had saved Soap. He was angry that he hadn't been there to protect them himself. He was angry that he almost lost two of the best soldiers there ever were. Two of his men. He was angry that now they were both one kidney lighter. The transplant wouldn't take too long to heal, but the risk of rejection or infection meant he could still lose them. "One year." That garnered confused looks from both men.

"Um, no boss, the surgeon said-" Price cut Ghot off again, further souring the man's mood for sure.

"That the risk of rejection and infection will be significantly reduced after six months. I am placing you both on desk duty for one year, starting the day you get discharged from med bay." A horrified silence filled the room. "I hope you boys can find a way to keep yourselves entertained while Gaz, Roach and I pick up your slack." It may have ben a bit harsh, but he needed them to understand how important their lives were. To the world, to the team. To him. With that, he left the room.

***

"Ah'm sorry, Ghost."

"Shut it, Johnny."

"Ah am though."

"No." Ghost opened his eyes and leaned forward, looking at his hands. After Price had stormed in, ripped them a new one, and stormed out, he had leaned back in his bed and closed his eyes in an attempt to dissuade the rising rage. "If we're sorry, Price wins. That crabbit old man can kiss my arse. We did the right things."

"Hmmm... I have an idea." Ghost finally looked over to Soap again, urging him to continue with his eyes. "We're gonna be stuck on base for a whole year, aye?"

"Aye..." Ghost was unsure where this was going.

"We should do something unhinged, something incredibly stupid and pointless, every day. We'll have some random recruit record it, someone different every day if we can. At the end of the year, we'll play it on a projector in the mess for the whole base to watch." Soap was grinning at him. "Show Price what happens when you bench two of the craziest son's o' bitches in the SAS.'

It felt like a bad idea. Like making a deal with the devil. Like it would at least make the year of bullshit ahead of them go by faster. "I'm listening..."

[lavenderterra]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒

𝐁𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑

Content; Absolute floof and chaos

Usage of alcohol

Nothing suggestive

Pre established relationships

Xavier

You had been invited out by Tara for a night of drinking and karaoke after the last influx of Wanderers in the no hunt zone, you were three drinks in, and it was your turn to sing, it did not bother you when you had picked Supernova by Aespa. You were there to have fun anyways right? Though the last person you’d expect to run into on a night like tonight was Xavier. You seemed shocked and he seemed surprised, though he was half asleep (sleepy boy) he had taken a moment to look at you.

“Y/N?” He seemed confused as to why you were grabbing a microphone and why he heard the instrumental to a song he heard through your headphones before while you’ve come back from missions and can’t comprehend words to speak what so ever. [thisboywillliterallyusehisevoltoputonalightshowwhileyoursinging]

“I’m like some kind of supernova.”

You don’t realize he’s there until you notice his evol surrounds you in a pretty light show. Despite how drunk you are you still wander up to him to give him a big hug.

He ends up carrying you home. Good thing you’re neighbours right?

Zayne

Mans was not prepared to see how drunk you were especially when you had chosen to sing Super lady by G-Idle but you wanted to let the stress of your last mission go, and this is how you were going to let off the steam you needed to let off wether you could handle your alcohol or not. “Y/N is there any reason that you’re so inebriated?”

You wave him off before you start singing. “ I am a top Super Lady, I never lose yeah. (‘Cause got a super power) I am a god, super lady” Cue the second hand embarrassment from the doctor, part of him is intrigued though.

Secretly being the little shit he is, he’s filming you so you can witness your drunken shenanigans when you’re hungover. He definitely enjoyed watching you let loose. You are a hunter after all, of course in the end you walked up to Zayne regretting everything you’d had to drink. “Please take me home-“

“Sweetheart, you did this to yourself.”

“So mean.”

Rafayel

Girl you are not living this down, he’s going to embarrass the hell out of you the next day. You two had bumped into each other walking into the bar the same time. You were meeting up with Jenna and Tara and the rest of your hunter squad to celebrate your success on your latest discovery in terms of dealing with Wanderers.

“Y/N is this what you do when you’ve decided not to be my bodyguard” You let out a laugh before speaking slightly. “C’mon me having a little break after killing this last mission? Yeah I’m here to let loose.” You let out a soft smile and its a smile you know he can’t resist because he loves seeing you happy.

He puts his hand on your head before telling you to have fun. You nod before running off where the rounds of shots and soju begin. You’re a very giggly drunk so you’re always laughing.

“Hey Y/N I miiight have put your name in to sing next” Tara had drunkenly admitted which caused you to laugh again before getting up to grab a microphone

Sticky by Kiof had started playing.

Everything was a blur and you had started singing. “How long before we fall in love—“

Raf is already live streaming your drunken antics

Sober you is going to k*ll him.

Sylus

Leaning back in his seat seemingly amused its not often you see the leader of onychinus outside of the n109 zone let alone in the very karaoke bar you frequent. You almost act as if you don’t notice him and the twins watching you.

You feel his amber eyes on you while you’re with your friends but also you notice Mephisto watching you at a distance. You scoff slightly before taking another shot. You got up out of your seat, and made your way over to the white haired male.

“Juuuuust what do you want now?” You huff looking at him. “Sweetie, I’m not sure you’re rambling on about now. I’m just enjoying my night like you are.” You raise an eyebrow before hearing your name called up next to sing.

You turn on your heels before heading toward the stage grabbing a microphone. Were you extremely wasted? Yes. Did you give a damn? No.

Purple Kiss’ Pretty Psycho started playing.

“I’m a freaky Purky.” You spoke into the microphone before beginning the song.

Sylus was amused. Luke and Kieran were filming.

You weren’t living this down.

[vaile-elenya]

Look I may be completely wrong, I don't cliff jump into bodies of water on the regular so forgive me if I'm wrong, but how is Elrond not injured by the fall?? The pan down from the waterfall to the cliff made the cliff look incredibly high. Not to mention the possibility of rocks at the bottom of the waterfall. My first reaction to it was “YOU’RE GOING TO DIE!” (let’s pretend that we don't know he lives)

How afraid of Galadriel and Gil-galad was he to think that was his best option? Especially if he didn't know if he'd survive.

People do cliff jump for sport but the difference is how they land in the water. I don't know if Elrond is a seasoned cliff jumper because the surface tension could kill you. Yes, he is a half-elf but I don't gravity or the water cares that much.

Can someone smarter than me figure out how tall that cliff was and see if it was survivable? If it wasn't, then he really parallels Elwing, she didn't know that she'd survive. It was Ulmo that saved her. It was a suicide attempt to keep the silmaril away from Maedhors and Maglor.

If I am right about the cliff being high enough to kill him, then maybe Ulmo saves Elrond too. In my brief-as-hell research, Ulmo knew Eärendil’s father so maybe he's fond of the family. Ulmo is said to dwell in deep rivers, so it could be possible that he saved Elrond. What a parallel if I'm right

This is just a headcanon and massive speculation on my end, so I'd love to hear your thoughts. Like this me screaming at the sky type of headcanon, I’m not expecting to by right 😂

Ohhh, I had the same thought when Elrond made that jump! To me, it looked deadly. But what struck me the most was how the other Elves seemed so... unbothered? It might not be the perfect word to use here, but neither Galadriel nor Gil-galad seemed very concerned that Elrond might have been killed by that jump. I can’t tell if it's because they have this unwavering hope and goodness in their nature, or if they just knew the jump wasn’t as fatal as it appeared, but something about Gil-galad stationing guards at every crossing and Galadriel almost immediately assuming Elrond had gone somewhere else, rather than imagining him at the bottom of the ocean, makes me think the jump might not have been that dangerous—at least not for someone with Elven heritage 🤔

(Also, it did make me a little sad we didn’t get a moment where Gil-galad or Galadriel expressed concern, like “I hope he’s alright,” or even better, “We’ll deal with the rings after we find Elrond. First, let’s make sure he’s safe.” 💔)

But! With that said, I totally see the parallel to Elwing here. Elrond might know this waterfall by heart, but in a situation like this, you just can’t help but wonder if things might not go as smoothly as planned. I think you can see that fear on his face—his eyes show so much pain:

This is the look of someone painfully hurt, painfully scared, and painfully disappointed—knowing it's either give up the jewels or, possibly, face death. You can almost feel the pain of this realization in his expression, especially in the first two shots 💔

The moment we see Elrond from behind, with Gil-estel on his cloak, it feels like we're meant to draw a mental comparison to Elwing and the Silmarils. I can only imagine what that must have felt like for him 😭 I’m seriously tempted to write a fic exploring everything going through his mind in that moment. If this was a book, I'd want an entire chapter from Elrond's POV, just to know what he was thinking 😭

And! I love the idea of Ulmo saving Elrond!!! I was going to say that when I read your tags on my last answer. There’s something so beautiful about Ulmo quietly watching over Eärendil's family centuries later 🥺 It honestly makes so much sense!!!

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

People continue to misbehave with the shows being generously provided via fan sub, which means we might have to jump through more hoops or be forced to wait awhile to finish them soon. The good news is that one of them has been picked up for international distribution by Netflix, so we will eventually see it all one way or another! For this week, we still got our two fan subbed shows, with the last one airing weekly on Gaga.

Smells Like Green Spirit

This week we explored comphet, as all of our gay characters lived or relived failed experiences attempting to be attracted to women. Perhaps not the specific gay experience you had on your bingo card for this show, but certainly one many queer people go through. I appreciated that despite featuring an episode about gay boys puking when confronted with sex with girls, the story didn't villainize the girls at all. Fuji is a terrifyingly competent and confident queen and she bounced back from Mishima's rejection with no problem (and with a sapphic twist??). Instead this served as both another way for Mishima and Kirino to bond, and to show Yanagida still dealing with the same thing at an older age. I'm not entirely sure yet what the show is trying to say by putting Yanagida and Mishima on parallel tracks this episode, but I am paying attention. Meanwhile, Yumeno continues to hover around being both viciously homophobic and overly interested in Mishima at the same time. I don't love this romance set up, but it's definitely coming so I am bracing for it.

Love is Like a Poison

I LOVE THIS SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOW. It continues to be both smart and funny as hell, and the character and relationship dynamics are cooking with gas. Here at the halfway point, both men have realized they've fallen in love with someone they shouldn't have, and seem stumped as hell about what to do with that. I love love love that Shiba fell for a scammer even knowing he's a scammer, and Haruto fell for his mark when he had no intention of taking this man seriously. I just want them to figure out how to make this work so they can live happily ever after investigating fraud, doing domestic chores, talking to their succulents and having lots of hot sex.

Chaser Game W 2

This week Fuyu's terrible mother was dispatched with surprising swiftness when Fuyu kinda out of nowhere developed a backbone. Okay, I guess! But before that, Yeoreum got to shoot her shot with Itsuki, who inexplicably turned her down after one drunken night. There truly is no accounting for taste. It seems that Yeoreum is not yet admitting defeat, so we'll get to see her again next week, yay!

[ladykailitha]

Permanent Tagging List Take Two!

Hey, guys it's that lovely time again when I go through my permanent tag list and remove people that haven't interacted with my stories in awhile to clear the way for new people.

So here's the deal, you'll have one week to respond to this post. I will post it again every week so that hopefully if you don't see it the first time, maybe one of the others will.

NO JUDGMENT! I swear it. I just want to know if you're still interested so that if you're not, people who are can take your spot.

UNTIL THIS HAS COMPLETED ITS DURATION THERE WILL BE MORATORIUM ON ALL FUTURE REQUESTS TO BE ADDED TO MY PERMANENT TAG LIST!

I love all the requests I'm getting to be added to it. But I am at 44 on my permanent list and if it hits 50 then there is no way to add people to a story's tag list. Something I really don't want to do.

You can tell me if you want to be:

Removed from my permanent tag and all my stories

Removed from my permanent tag list but keep you on all my stories

Removed from my permanent tag list but only some of the stories (let me know which ones)

Stay on my permanent tag list but be removed from all my WIPs

Stay on my permanent tag list but be removed from some of my WIPs (let me know which ones)

Stay on my permanent tag list and all my WIPs.

My current WIPs so that you know what I'm currently working on:

Well Met By Moonlight: Steve is a werewolf, Eddie is a vampire and there are strange and horrible things going on in Hawkins. No Upside Down supernatural creatures AU.

Never Hold Back Your Step...: Boy With a Bat book 2. Sequel to Can Anybody See Me? Season 2 Au where Eddie picks up Steve as one of his lost sheep and him and Steve get together. Set immediately after book one, Steve has to get through high school and his new summer job. Only this is Hawkins and danger is always lurking around the corner. Featuring season 3 AU.

Icarus: Eddie makes it big with Corroded Coffin as Steve and Robin seemingly struggle with menial jobs. Only there is more than meets the eye with the up and coming metal band The Fallen as Eddie learns that the lead singer and Steve is one and the same. Now they have to manage three private lives with super stardom. The path to love never was smooth.

Sweet Home Indiana: Sweet Home Alabama fusion. Eddie and Steve get married when the first state makes gay marriage legal. But soon a rift forms between them and Eddie leaves. Now almost a decade later, Eddie's back in Hawkins looking for a divorce so he can marry his fiancee, Chrissy. But when he arrives, Hawkins starts feeling like home in a way he thought he lost long ago. Now he has to chose between his new life in Seattle and his old life in Hawkins. But not everything is as it seems and that makes things harder. For everyone.

Paper Hearts: Post Season 2 Valentine's day AU. Hawkins is doing a fund raiser for senior ball, people can buy paper hearts to give to their friends and lovers. Pink for friends and red for lovers. Steve doesn't have a girlfriend this year so he decides to get twenty pink hearts to give to girls that wouldn't normally get any. Cue Eddie finding that adorable and to do the same for Steve so he doesn't feel so lonely on Valentine's. They fall in love.

So here is the list of people that haven't liked, commented, or reblogged my stuff in about two months.

@danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @emly03

Some additional info!

I remove people who haven't interacted with any of my posts in more than 60 days. This is anything I post: chaptered fics, one-shots, and rants, whether or not they've been tagged.

What does interact mean? Comment, like, OR reblog. It doesn't have to be all three. Hell it doesn't even have go beyond a like. Though, really reblogs are the best because it means more people beyond the tag list can see it.

If you've done any of those things in less than sixty days, or have said that you're going through a rough patch and interaction will be down for awhile, you are still on the list.

I put up the option to be removed from certain stories because @maya-custodios-dionach said that they didn't like a couple of the stories (omegaverse and metal band Steve) and I thought oh, why don't ask people what they want to be tagged IN?

And in the last couple of days I've had about half of my tag list chiming in and tell me what they want. It's fantastic! Open communication for the win!!! It makes me giggle that no one has asked be from Boy With a Bat book 2, though. Literally everything else has.

Most of my regular permanent listers have made themselves known on what they want to be tagged on, but if you just like the post without commenting, I will take that as option 6 and move on. These people don't HAVE to comment or like, you'll stay on the list regardless.

But if you have stories you would much rather not be tagged in, I'd like to know, you know. ;)

@itsall-taken @spectrum-spectre @chaosgremlinmunson @i-must-potato @carlyv

@vecnuthy @irregular-child @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet

@disrespectedgoatman @tinyplanet95

[elliesflower]

i saw you in a dream [5]

summary; you attend ellie's open mic performance. and meet her...roommate.

chapter; 5/? 3.1k words

cw (per chapter); recreational marijuana usage, language

an; hi lol. i love u guys, thank you endlessly for dealing with my slow updating of this story. anyways, i think this may be my favorite chapter yet, please let me know what you think! i love a good cliffhanger ;) (as always, find it on ao3 here)

chapter 4 here

Friday came entirely too quickly—you breezed through your last final exam on Thursday, which left you way too much time to anxiously anticipate your upcoming…event.

“Date!” Dina exclaimed. “Ellie asked you to go because she likes you, it’s practically a date,” she singsonged, twirling a piece of hair around her finger childishly.

“Yes, because I’m sure we’ll have so much time to talk one-on-one and gaze longingly into each other’s eyes in between performances,” you replied sarcastically, continuing to rummage through your closet. “And, you don’t know that she likes me, maybe she just asked me because I was right there.”

“Okay, for someone so smart, sometimes you’re a little stupid,” Dina said, and you shot her the most evil side eye you could manage. “Ellie may or may not like you like that, but she likes you enough to invite you to something that sounds personal and important to her. This is your in! Now, you just have to get flirty.”

“‘Get flirty?’ Do you even know me at all?” You scoffed, turning to face her. “I am, like, the most awkward human being on the planet.”

“Okay, I take it back,” Dina laughed, standing up. “Let’s just focus on finding you an outfit.”

“What the hell do you even wear to an open-mic?” You complained, turning back to continue looking through your closet. 

“You could wear something of mine, if you want,” she suggested.

“Uh, no thank you,” you smiled, pulling out a plain black mock-neck from the depths of your closet, turning around and holding it up to your chest.

“Hey!” Dina gasped. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“No offense, but I don’t really think…whatever look you have going on is the one for me.” It’s not that you didn’t like the way Dina dressed, rather, you really did like it—but expressing yourself through clothing had always been hard for you, sticking to more muted tones, blacks and greys. Dina’s wardrobe was loud and colorful, she always looked so put together, and she never seemed to wear the same thing twice. You admired it, really, but still found yourself gravitating towards more basic clothing.

“Whoever said saying ‘no offense’ actually makes a statement any less offensive needs their ass beat, to be honest,” she replied casually, and you could hear her sorting through hangers in her own closet. “Just try this, at least. It would look nice with that shirt, I promise!” She was shoving a colorful chunky-knit cardigan into your hands before you could protest, and you grimaced. 

“I don’t know Dee,” you held up the sweater, contemplating. “I never wear stuff like this.”

“Just put the damn sweater on and let’s go!” She smiled at you. “Don’t you want good seats?”

You rolled your eyes, but went to look in the mirror nonetheless. “As if there’ll be a fight for front row seats at a college open-mic.”

“Oh perfect,” she sighed exaggeratedly before rummaging in her desk drawer. “Then you agree, you have time to split this with me before we leave?” She held up a small, white tube, and you pursed your lips. 

“Okay, fine,” you gave in, quickly pulling your shirt off over your head before pulling on the black long-sleeve. 

“Just one hit.”

—

You did not, in fact, take just one hit. It was more like four. Or five…or six, or who could keep track, really?

It seemed like a good idea, a little something to take the edge off, maybe soothe the bundle of nerves that had formed in your stomach and in your brain and in your chest at the thought alone of seeing Ellie—god forbid, having to make conversation with her.

And while it did help a little, you hadn’t smoked as much as Dina, so it still felt as though your heartbeat grew louder with each step toward the theater. All that stood between you and Ellie—and, well, a handful of other attendees and performers—was a short corridor. 

“It’ll be okay, just chill out,” Dina tried to subdue you, and her voice was thickened by her intoxication, slower and almost more serious. Her eyes were low as she smiled over at you, bumping into your shoulder softly. 

“Thank you, Dina, because telling someone to chill out always works so well,” you quipped, shaking your head as she led you through the doors. Though, you did try to chill out, as it were, taking a deep breath and sliding the sleeves of the oversized cardigan up your forearms, nervously tugging at the neck of your long sleeve, fidgeting with anything you could think of to distract you from—

“Oh!” You exclaimed as you ran directly into a body around the corner, staggering backwards slightly before someone was gripping your arms, keeping you steady. Your eyes trailed up the body before you were met with—oh god, “Ellie!”

“We have to stop meeting like this,” she laughed melodically, smoothing her hands down your biceps before flashing her teeth at you. The chatter of the other attendees faded into the background as you felt your body heat up under her stare, painfully aware of her hands that were still on your arms. 

You could do nothing but let out an awkward laugh in response, nodding your head as she took her hands away. Dina cleared her throat obnoxiously from behind you and you turned your head to give her a look that you hoped conveyed: please for the love of god save me.

“Hi, I’m Dina by the way, or you probably know me as ‘the roommate,’” she said, sticking out her hand past you for Ellie to shake, and you had to admire her confidence for a second, the way she could unapologetically be herself in any situation. You’d think that from spending so much time with her, some of that confidence would have rubbed off on you, but no, you were still just…you.

“Nice to meet you, Dina,” Ellie smiled, and her voice was laced with honey, rich and slow spilling from her lips. She reached her hand past you to shake Dina’s, and you moved out of the way slightly.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Dina dropped her hand and stood next to you now. You looked over at her in shock, and you hoped the shaking of your head and wide eyes weren’t noticeable. 

“Uh, not so much,” you laughed nervously, trying to subtly kick Dina’s ankle. 

“Wow, you really do have that guitar player look to you,” she ignored you, gesturing to Ellie. “I love the tattoo!”

Your eyes were daggers glaring into the side of Dina’s head, but neither her or Ellie seemed to notice—though it was debatable whether that was good or bad. Ellie chuckled, instinctively looking down at her arm and holding it out as if to show it off. You felt like sinking into the floor, watching her arm flex as she rotated it, skimming her fingers down the length of her forearm, tracing the pattern. 

“Thank you,” she was slightly bashful, despite her eagerness to show off. She caught your eye for a moment and—were her cheeks turning red? It is pretty warm in here with all these bodies…yeah, that’s it. 

“Well, anyways, nice to finally meet you Ellie, I’m gonna go grab a snack,” Dina smiled politely between both you and Ellie, before patting your shoulder and slipping away. Oh god, why would she leave you to talk to her alone?

“I’m so glad you could make it,” she said, and suddenly everything was fading away again. You took a moment to look down at her outfit, trying to be as discreet as possible. She adorned a light blue flannel, cuffed just above her elbows and a pair of dark Levi’s—her hair was pulled back, save for a few pieces that fell loosely around her face, which you noticed she tucked hastily behind her ear when a strand tickled her nose before she said, “I love that sweater, by the way.”

Dina was going to have a field day with that one. 

“Oh, thank you!” You exclaimed, instinctively wrapping your arms around yourself. She smiled at you before continuing. 

“Anyways, I’m up last, so don’t feel like you have to stay for the whole thing, if you get bored or anything,” she explained, pointing at the stage behind her. “I’m just glad you could make it.”

On the inside, you were swooning, your eyes were in the shape of hearts and you wanted to reach out and embrace her—you wanted to smell that warm vanilla musk and the earthy savor of weed, you wanted to tell her you wanted nothing more than to spend all your time with her, know her inside and out, you wanted it all. 

“No, no, I came here for you,” you said instead, making fists around the material of your sweater and smiling at her. “Of course I’ll stay.” 

Ellie’s face flushed again, and you continued to insist it was due to the heat of the room. She glanced behind her, and you followed her gaze to see Dina filling up a plate with what looked like one of everything from the table. 

“I should go get ready,” Ellie mumbled before turning back to you. “Why don’t you go grab some snacks with Dina and I’ll catch you after the show?” She sounded hopeful. You nearly choked. 

“Yes, I’ll be here!” Of course you’ll be here, where the hell else would you be? You mentally face-palmed yourself before she was giving you a smile and disappearing into the crowd. You took a deep breath and made your way to the snack table, where Dina was still loading up. 

“Oh, hey!” She said when she finally saw you. 

“Hey, thanks so much for embarrassing the hell out of me,” you complained, stealing a cheese square off of her plate. 

“Embarrassing you? Please, I was helping you,” she laughed before stuffing a grape into her mouth. “And it kinda worked, didn’t it? I set you up for a nice little chat with your girlfriend.”

“Oh, shut up,” you bumped her shoulder, but you couldn’t fight the warmth that climbed up the back of your neck. “Let’s go grab a seat.”

The acts that preceded Ellie were actually entertaining—a few songs, a poem or two, and a stand-up act that wasn’t…terrible. Not to say it was good but…you know. 

And then the host, who you assumed was Ellie’s roommate, was waltzing back on to the stage as the audience applauded, her short black hair reflecting almost blue in the spotlight. She was eclectic, all mismatched patterns and silver jewelry that hung from her neck and her wrists and her ears. She was funny and vibrant, commanding the attention of everyone in the room every time she stepped onto the stage to introduce the next act. 

“Alright folks, please give a warm welcome to my best friend, the one and only, Ellie Williams!” She tucked her microphone under her arm before clapping, moving out of the way of the small stool that was behind her. Best friend? Ellie had only said she was her roommate. 

But it didn’t matter, because Ellie was walking on to the stage with her guitar in hand, smiling nervously at the crowd. You clapped as loud as you could, trying to reposition your body so that you could see her slightly better over the heads in front of you, though you doubted she could see you from your seat somewhere in the middle row. 

“Uh, good evening, everyone,” Ellie started, positioning herself on the stool and pulling the microphone down to her level. “I’m gonna sing a little song for you guys, if that’s cool.” There was a bit of scattered applause and Dina whooped loudly from beside you. You smacked her with the back of your hand. 

Your heart was beating out of your chest, partly from the excitement at getting to see Ellie perform, and partly from your second-hand stage fright. Even though you weren’t the one performing, you always seemed to absorb the nerves of the performer, just waiting for them to make a mistake, even if you didn’t want them to. You especially wanted this to go well for Ellie, and you bounced your leg nervously as she positioned her guitar in her lap. 

She strummed the first few chords and you nearly had a heart attack.

C, A-minor, F-major. You could probably play those in your sleep, now. 

“Holy shit,” Dina whispered from beside you, and of course, she knew too, from the hours and hours you spent listening to the song, practicing the song, getting taught the song. 

“Did I drive you away?

I know what you'll say

You say, ‘Oh, sing one we know,’

“Dina,” you whispered back, leaning into her, but not being able to peel your eyes away from Ellie. “Is that…?” But you already knew the answer. 

“Dude. She’s so. Into you.”

“But I promise you this

I'll always look out for you

Yeah, that's what I'll do,

You couldn’t help the smile that slowly spread across your face as you leaned back up, watching Ellie lose herself in the song. Suddenly, you were back in her room, the air thick and heavy, watching her sing softly and strum along when she thought you weren’t watching—that little crease between her eyebrows and the dreamy look in her eyes as she sang with the voice of a thousand angels. 

Maybe you had a hard time believing Ellie was into you, but she picked this song knowing you would be here. There was no denying that. 

“La, la, la, la, o-oh

La, la, la, la, o-oh,

The song ended entirely too soon, and she was smiling, standing up and adjusting the microphone back into a higher position. Applause was erupting from every side of you and you clapped as though you were the only person in the room, as if she could see the intensity in which you showed your recognition and your appreciation and your utter giddiness. 

The host was waltzing on stage again before you knew it, and gave Ellie a hug. You ignored the jealous twinge in your heart, for god’s sake you had literally hung out one time, and the applause continued as she thanked everyone for coming, wrapping her arm around Ellie’s waist and requesting one last round of applause for all the performers. You continued clapping, watching Ellie raise her guitar in the air like a glass of champagne for a toast, before the host whispered something in her ear that made her smile. You again ignored the skip of your heart, instead focusing on Dina’s hand gripping your arm. 

“Oh my god, you have to go say something to her, ask her out, something! The suspense is literally killing me,” she whined, pulling you along as the lights slowly turned back on and people shimmied out of the aisles. 

“I can’t just ask her out, it’s not that easy for me,” you replied.. You wished it was easy for you, you wished you could be more like Dina, just walk right up to her and say: I think I really like you, and we should go out sometime. But your anxiety paralyzed you, rendered you completely helpless when it came to love and lust.

“I swear dude, if I have to sit through any more of your pining and love songs I might request a roommate swap,” Dina said, leading you back to the snack table. “She likes you. And if you can’t see that at this point I don’t know what else to say.” You pouted a bit, like a petulant child, crossing your arms over your chest and surveying the room. Before you could even formulate a response, Ellie was emerging from a group of people who had gathered opposite the table. You quickly uncrossed your arms as she caught your eye and made her way toward you. 

“Oh look, who would have guessed,” Dina muttered, popping a grape into her mouth. She smiled exaggeratedly at Ellie before grabbing a handful of crackers. “I’ll leave the two of you to talk,” and you wished so badly you could flip her off without it being obvious. 

“Hey,” Ellie said quietly, and her voice was almost timid--a laughable comparison to barely five minutes ago when she had the entire audience wrapped around her finger. 

“Ellie,” you breathed, shifting your weight from one foot to another. “Your song choice was…inspired,” you said, wrapping an arm across your body. She looked down at her feet, and you wondered if her cheeks would be rosy when she looked back up. 

“Oh, yeah,” she looked up at you now, and you were right. Except, it wasn’t actually that warm in here. “Well, it’s a good song, you know.” Her hand went to the back of her neck, just like it had before, and you wanted to pull it away, to intertwine your fingers and just tell her, just tell her you want to go out, somewhere where she doesn’t have to teach you to play guitar and you can just talk, and mentally map the freckles that littered her face and learn about how she got that scar in her eyebrow and find out if she’d rather go to a tea house or a coffee shop and fuck, you had to ask her, now, before you lost the courage and your mouth was moving before your brain could catch up, 

“Ellie, I was wondering if--” 

“There you are, superstar!” A voice suddenly came from behind her, and you recognized it immediately. The host--or I guess, Ellie’s roommate--oops, wrong again, Ellie’s best friend, was appearing behind her, grabbing onto her shoulder and looking at her with admiration. Ellie seemed surprised to see her, somehow, as she turned to face her, plastering on a smile that looked…forced. 

“Oh, hey,” she replied, before the raven-haired girl was pulling her into a hug. You stood awkwardly as they embraced, looking down at the ground in an attempt to seem casual. Oh god, you couldn’t believe you were actually about to ask Ellie out on a date. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” the girl said abruptly, pulling back as if she’d just noticed your presence. She left an arm around Ellie’s waist, and you noticed the way Ellie suddenly appeared tense. Like, in a bad way. 

You offered the girl a small smile and stuck your hand out politely, giving her your name. She took it and shook firmly, her small hand deceivingly strong. Her eyes were painted with thick, black eyeliner, and they raked up and down your body. You felt like shrinking away under her intimidating stare, averting your eyes after a moment.

“Uh, this is Cat, my roommate,” Ellie said after an awkward pause, giving you a sheepish look. 

“And best friend,” she chimed, pulling her hand away. She leaned into Ellie’s side, resting her head on Ellie’s shoulder and using her free hand to pat her chest. 

“Ellie and I go way back.”

chapter 6 here

[drabbles-mc]

Let Me Know

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

For Week 7 of @buckybarnesevents's Hot Bucky Summer: Who's This?

Warnings: 18+, language, light angst, mentions of blood/injuries

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: Roommates to lovers?? Don't mind if I do! 😂 It was so fun to write for Bucky again! I haven't written much for him as I've been doing other events for other fandoms, but trust he is still bouncing around my head always haha. This got away from me in the best way. Hope you enjoy!

MCU Taglist: @artemiseamoon @garbinge (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

You hadn’t heard from Bucky since he left for his last mission. That wasn’t something that was necessarily unusual—it wasn’t uncommon for him to drop off the radar for a couple weeks at a clip. You’d known that was part of the deal for a long time, long before the two of you had started whatever relationship it was that you had now.

At first you two were just roommates. Hell, you didn’t even want to refer to the two of you as friends for a while at the start. It wasn’t that you disliked each other, but Bucky didn’t seem like he was really the type who was keen on making friends. He was civil with you, cordial, but it wasn’t as though the two of you spent a lot of quality time together. He spent most of his time in his room unless he was showering or cooking. The times when he was home alone you’d come back to the apartment to find him in the living room, but once it was the two of you again, he’d soon retreat back to his own space. You mentioned to him on more than one occasion that the living room was considered a common area for a reason—it wasn’t as though only one of you could be there at a time, but he always found a way to brush the comment off.

It wasn’t until he came home in the middle of the night from a mission while you were in the kitchen making yourself a midnight snack that the two of you had any interaction of real substance. You heard the apartment door open and you were automatically on-edge. Bucky was known to come and go at all hours, and while no one had ever tried to break into your place, you knew that there was always a first time for everything.

So, you grabbed a knife from the knife block and slowly crept towards the door. You heard someone let out a soft grunt, followed by heavy booted footsteps on the floor. Your grip around the knife handle tightened as you held your breath. Reaching around the corner, you quickly turned on the lights and stepped around the corner, effectively not only scaring the shit out of Bucky, but also yourself. You were a lot of things, but one thing you were not was someone who thrived in fight or flight situations.

“Jesus,” Bucky said, bracing himself against the arm of the couch, recovering once he realized it was you. He made a small gesture to the knife in your hand. “What the hell are you doing?”

You huffed, heart still pounding inside your chest as you let your arm drop carefully back to your side. “What the hell are you doing?” you shot back.

His brows knit, confused, like the answer was perfectly, obvious. To his credit, it was. “Trying to come home?”

“It’s almost 2AM. Why didn’t you just stay—”

“I wanted to be in my own bed,” he cut you off. He shook his head at you. “Why am I getting interrogated for wanting to be in my own apartment?” He paused. “Why are you awake at 2AM?”

You pointed back towards the kitchen with the knife, which would’ve been more amusing if either of you were less frustrated or less exhausted. “Wanted a snack.”

He huffed out a laugh, one that almost sounded a little bit amused. “Right.”

“Want some?” you offered, like an olive branch. “Quesadillas.”

“At 2AM?”

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t have to have any of it. Just thought—”

“I’m good,” he cut you off, “but thanks.” He watched as you nodded, both of you still just standing there, occupying the same space because neither knew what move to make next. “Goodnight,” he finally said, prying his hand off the couch so he could slowly keep making his way towards his room.

You stepped to the side, letting him pass. You couldn’t help but notice that he was moving slower than usual, not quite limping but definitely stiff. “Do you need—”

“I’m good.”

You sighed, letting your head drop back so you were staring up at the ceiling. Someday the two of you would get through a conversation where he actually let you finish your sentences. Once he shut his bedroom door behind him, you shut off the lights in the living room again, retreating back to the kitchen to put the knife away and finish making your snack.

You were just putting the dishes in the sink, thinking you’d rather do them tomorrow than right in that moment. Right when you reached to turn the kitchen light off, you heard footsteps again. Lighter this time, but still slow. You stopped and waited.

Bucky came all but hobbling into the kitchen. He made a beeline for the refrigerator, opening the freezer side and pulling out a frozen water bottle. Immediately he brought it down to his leg, rolling it against his thigh over the lounge pants he’d changed into.

You frowned slightly at the sight. “Anything I can do?”

He shook his head, eyes still fixed on his leg. “No.”

You nodded, not looking to push things with him, especially not at the given hour. “Okay. Well…you know where to find me if…” you trailed off, not really sure how you wanted to end the sentence. Really, you didn’t know what you could offer him that he wouldn’t be able to do for himself. It felt wrong to not put the offer out there, though.

He nodded, still not looking at you. “Thanks.”

You turned and were going to start heading back to your room. Just as you were going to round the corner into the short hall that separated your rooms from the rest of the apartment, you looked back over your shoulder to see Bucky peering into the fridge again, this time looking for something to eat rather than just an ice pack.

With his back to you, you could see a stripe going down his shirt, just beside his left shoulder, where he was bleeding through. You frowned, considering for a moment if you should say something or not. He’d never been one for unsolicited commentary.

“Bucky?” you said, leaning against the wall.

“Yea?” he responded, still digging around the fridge for something that required no effort to eat.

“I, uh, I think…I think you’re bleeding?” You watched as he finally looked at you, glancing back over his shoulder like he was trying to figure out if you were being honest or not, not that you’d lie about something like that but he still didn’t trust anyone off the rip. You made a vague gesture to the area where the blood was, not that you were really close enough for it to matter. “Your shoulder.”

Recognition washed over his face, quickly followed by annoyance. “Shit.”

“I’ve got bandages,” you nodded towards the bathroom. “If you want, I can…I mean just so you don’t bleed everywhere.”

The apprehension was clear as day on his face, but he knew you were being practical. Plus, he really didn’t feel like having to get new shirts and sheets if he didn’t have to. He sighed, finally giving in with a nod. He shut the fridge door, opening the freezer and tossing the water bottle back into it with a little more force than necessary before shutting that door too.

When you came back to the kitchen, you found him sitting at the counter. His back was to you, his shirt clutched tightly in his metal hand as he braced himself on the edge of the counter. You didn’t say anything as you set the box of bandages down next to him, taking a couple out so that you could try to completely cover the cut that was running along his back.

It was the first time you’d ever seen him without his shirt on. He was always at least in a tank top when he came out of his room, always made sure he dressed before stepping out of the bathroom after his showers. Until now you’d thought it was just a courtesy thing, the same way he never really stayed in the living room or kitchen with you for too long. But as you looked at his back, seeing the scars and the bruises, you had a whole new understanding of it all.

“Is it bad?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You shook your head, and it took a moment for you to remember that he couldn’t see you. “Not too bad. You won’t, uh, you shouldn’t need stitches. Bandages for a couple days should be find until it scabs over a bit.” You paused, delicately placing the first bandage on the upper half of the cut. “This is gonna sound stupid,” you started with a laugh.

You heard the sharp exhale he let out through his nose, the closest thing to a laugh you’d heard from him in a long time. “Good. Love that.”

You laughed a little harder, heat flaring up in your face. “I just, I don’t know, I guess I didn’t realize that you could…I just thought that since you’ve got that super soldier thing…”

“I’m not invincible,” he said, his tone sarcastic but not nearly as mean as it could’ve been. “Takes more to do damage. Heal quicker. But I’m not…yea.”

“Hmm,” you hummed in acknowledgment as you applied the second bandage.

“What?”

“No, nothing, I just, I didn’t know. Feels weird to ask.” You chuckled nervously. “God forbid it sounds like a weird threat.”

He glanced over his shoulder at you, looking exhausted but also a little amused. “Didn’t want to ask what it would take to kill me?”

“That’s not what I said,” nervous laughter spilled out of you, your entire face and neck feeling like they were on fire. Stepping away, you threw the little slips of paper from the bandages into the trash, finally looking Bucky in the eye again once you did. “You should be all set. Honestly, if you really do heal quicker, you’ll probably only need those on for the next day or so.”

“Thank you,” he told you as he got up off the stool at the counter.

You nodded, offering up a quiet, “You’re welcome,” as he went back to the fridge again, t-shirt still clutched in his hand. You chuckled softly. “There’s enough to make another quesadilla if you want.”

Things had started to change between the two of you after that. It was slow, gradual, but you noticed it. You never went out of your way to bring up what had happened that night, because really it wasn’t that big of a deal—it wasn’t like you’d had to reattach a limb for him. It was just a couple band-aids. But it was enough to tip the scales just slightly. It started off with small things. When Bucky would cook while you were home, he made enough for both of you. Depending on what you were watching, he’d accept the invite to sit in the living room with you to see whatever show or movie you had on.

Over time, your conversations stopped being quite as one-sided. You didn’t think that Bucky was ever a chatterbox even on his best day, but it did eventually get to the point where he was giving you answers that were more than two or three words at a clip. He’d ask you questions instead of just you asking him things. Not only that, but it seemed like he was actually listening to the answers.

After that first night in the kitchen when you’d been ready to stab Bucky with a kitchen knife, he promised that he’d make sure to text you whenever he got back after a mission, giving you an ETA so you wouldn’t freak out again. It was a small but appreciated gesture. No matter the hour, you were pretty much always up, and always cooking or eating something when he got home. In the back of Bucky’s mind he knew that you did it on purpose, one gesture in return for another, but he didn’t allow himself to process the full weight of it, the real comfort that he could get from it. Too afraid to acknowledge it out loud in fear that it was going to get taken from him.

Then one night after he got home from a mission, walking into the apartment at an hour that was too late to be nighttime but too early still to be morning, he found you standing at the stove in the kitchen. He lingered in the doorway, every muscle in his body feeling exceptionally heavy after how things had played out in the field. As much as part of him had wanted to come straight home and collapse into bed, another part of him was looking forward to the exact sight that was in front of him now.

“It’s nothing fancy,” you said with a laugh as you turned around, one plate in each hand, “but—” You stopped short when you looked up and saw the state that bucky was in. “Holy shit.”

His eyebrows lifted just slightly at your reaction. He knew why you’d reacted that way, but he was too tired to get into it all. You set the plates down on the counter with a light clatter before quickly making your way to the other side of the counter to him. His face was littered with bruises, a small cut through his eyebrow and a few others on his cheek. Nothing that required a doctor’s visit, but you knew that if his face was this bruised, the rest of him was too.

“What happened?” you asked, reaching out to touch his face before you could think better of it.

He flinched slightly at your touch, and it was only then that you realized what you were doing. Bucky saw the panic flash across your face and he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t get it out. It’d been a long time since someone had been gentle like that with him.

“Long story,” he finally said with a shake of his head.

You nodded, trying to be understanding while also knowing there was no way you could try to wrap your head around the situation. “Right.”

Bucky saw the way that your eyes would drift from his to the bruises, worry in your expression as you tried not to stare. It was the most visibly beat up he’d been in a while upon getting home from a mission. Reaching out, Bucky rested his right hand against your shoulder, his grip gentle, warm even through the fabric of your t-shirt. You were extremely aware of the fact that it was the first time Bucky had ever touched you like that, given a passive form of affection.

“It looks bad,” he conceded with a weary chuckle, “but I’m alright.”

The ends of your mouth turned up just slightly as you nodded. “Okay.”

When he came back to the kitchen after changing and dropping off his things, he found you sitting at the counter patiently waiting for him. He plopped down heavily in the seat next to you, neither of you saying much for the moment as you ate what was essentially going to be an extremely early breakfast.

You grabbed both your plates when you’d finished, bringing them to the sink. Checking the time on the stove, you sighed, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to fall back to sleep at that point. The best you were going to be able to hope for was going to bed extremely early the next night to make up for the lost time.

“I’m gonna make coffee,” you said over your shoulder as you grabbed a mug for yourself. “You want some? I know you’re probably just gonna pass out.”

Bucky stared at you, watching you going through the motions of something so simple, something he had definitely seen you do plenty of times before. He cleared his throat. “I’ll take one. I slept on the plane back,” he lied, desperately wanting to sleep but now tempted to try and stay awake with you at least for a little while. “Won’t be able to pass out for a bit.”

He listened to your hum of acknowledgment as you reached up to grab a second mug for him. He sat for a moment, trying to piece apart all the different thoughts and feelings racing through his mind. It was impossible for him to look at anything but you as you leaned forward, bracing your hands on the edge of the counter to keep yourself upright while you waited for the coffee to brew.

Getting up off the stool, Bucky walked over to you. Your mind was miles away, and you didn’t hear him walk up behind you. It wasn’t until he tapped your shoulder that you snapped to attention. You flinched, spinning around since he caught you off-guard. You nearly smacked into him, not expecting him to be standing so close to you. He always managed to leave a buffer between the two of you.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice unsteady when you didn’t mean for it to be.

He nodded. “I’m good.” He paused, racking his brain for the right words. “Thank you,” was all he managed to come up with, but it was better than nothing.

You laughed, a little breathless from the fact that he was still standing so close to you. “It’s nothing.”

Neither of you moved, or spoke, you hardly even breathed in the next few seconds that passed. Bucky didn’t take his eyes off yours and it had you feeling like you were about to melt into the floor. Taking a deep breath and a leap of faith, you reached up towards his face again, your fingertips gingerly touching his cheek. He didn’t pull away, determined not to make the same mistake twice. A smile involuntarily spread across your face at the acceptance of your touch, your hand shifting just slightly so that you could better cup his cheek, your thumb lightly grazing his cheekbone. Your touch ghosted over the bruises blooming over his skin.

You were about to ask him if he was sure that he was alright when he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. It was a split second, over just as soon as it started as he pulled away, trying to gauge just how big of a mistake he’d just made. His eyes searched yours, heart pounding in his chest. You beamed at him for a moment before bringing his lips back to yours, kissing him with purpose, feeling the way that he was instantly trying to meld himself into you.

As the days and weeks ticked by after that, it was as though the two of you started to forget that your apartment had two bedrooms. Most of the time Bucky stayed with you in yours, but every now and then you’d find yourself tucked safely under Bucky’s comforter and in his arms in his room too. There was never a conversation about it, and in the back of your mind you knew that maybe there should’ve been. But it was working so well, the last thing you wanted to do was complicate it, potentially ruining something that was so precariously created between you.

And now here you were, pacing the expanse of your apartment’s living room, waiting for some sort of confirmation from Bucky that he was back home and in one piece. You were used to him going silent, but you usually heard from him before anything about his work hit the news. The fact that the television going in the background had running coverage saying that there had been another successful mission, saying there were more details to come even though there never were, had you on-edge when your phone refused to chime with a message from Bucky.

You spent a few more minutes waiting, pacing, before finally deciding that fuck it, you might as well show up and hope for the best. So you grabbed your keys and took off out of the apartment, making sure that you locked it up on the way out.

You found yourself standing in the lobby of the building, helpless to do anything but stare and gawk at everything around you. You’d never been to their base in Brooklyn—never had a reason to when Bucky lived with you. You didn’t even know where to start.

Luckily, you didn’t have to stand there overwhelmed on your own for too long. You turned your head towards the sound of someone clearing their throat. You knew who he was, because Sam Wilson’s face was everywhere these days, but he had no idea who you were. You would’ve assumed that even if he didn’t have a mildly confused look on his face.

“Something I can help you with?” his tone was cautious.

Clearing your throat, you nodded. “Yea. God, I’m, I’m sorry. I know I probably shouldn’t just,” you fumbled, trying to get your sentences together, “I just, shit. I’m looking for Bucky?”

The confusion on his face intensified. “Bucky?”

“Yea, I’m—”

Whatever the conversation was about to be between you was cut short by the sound of Bucky saying your name. He sounded just as confused as Sam had, only Bucky had a thick layer of annoyance layered on top of the confusion.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, brows knit tightly.

“I just got worried when I saw the news but I didn’t hear anything from you. I thought you—”

“You can’t just come down here,” he cut you off, and for a moment your mind flashed back to how the two of you were months and months ago now. It stung more than you’d bargained for.

“I waited but then I got worried, alright? That’s not, you know, that’s not ridiculous of me. You always tell me when you get back.”

“Sorry,” Sam was looking back and forth between the two of you before his gaze finally landed on Bucky, “but who’s this?”

You both answered simultaneously, but the problem was your answers weren’t the same.

“His girlfriend.”

“My roommate.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up as he looked back and forth between you. You felt like someone had let all the air out of your lungs, like you were about to deflate and crumple right onto the tiles beneath your feet. Bucky’s annoyance faded only slightly when he registered the words you’d said, but he was still too off-kilter and confused about the entire thing to say or do anything.

“Right,” Sam said, clearly a little uncomfortable. He turned to you. “Well, it was nice meeting you. I’ll leave you two to…this.”

You shook your head, trying to ignore the sting of tears in your eyes, the smoldering anger you could feel in the pit of your chest. You made sure not to take it out on Sam. “I’ll leave. I’m sure you have important things to take care of. It was really nice meeting you, Sam.” You turned your head to look at Bucky. “Guess I’ll see you at home, roomie.”

Bucky only got half your name out before you turned on your heel and started to take off for the door. He sighed, chin dropping to his chest. Finally picking his head back up, he looked over at Sam, who was just shaking his head at him.

“What?” Bucky snapped.

“You messed up,” Sam said with a laugh, clearly not feeling any pity for the man standing with him.

“Helpful. Thanks.”

Sam shook his head. “She was just worried about you, man.”

Bucky sighed, not wanting to get into all of it. Nodding towards the elevator he said, “Can we just wrap this up?”

Sam chuckled, getting more amusement out of Bucky’s situation than he should’ve. The damage done wasn’t irreparable, which was the only reason he found any humor in it. “Sure.”

When Bucky got back to the apartment later that night, he opened the door to find all of the lights off. He let out a deep sigh as he stepped inside. He dropped his bags just inside the door, untying his boots and leaving them there as well. He maneuvered through the apartment in the dark until he landed himself outside your bedroom door. He saw the thin strip of light coming out from underneath it, so he knew that you were home and most likely still awake.

Taking a deep breath, he gave your door a couple light knocks as he said your name. When he didn’t get a response, he rested his forehead against the wood paneling of the door. “Please let me in.”

After a few long seconds of silence, you said, “It’s open.”

Bucky let out a sigh of relief as he turned the doorknob and let himself in. Once he stepped inside, he shut the door behind him again, like it was an extra layer of privacy in your already empty apartment. He leaned back against the door, giving you some space as he watched you purposely not look up from your laptop.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked, resting the back of his head against the door.

You shrugged, fingers flying across the keyboard, still not looking up at him. “Is there something you think we need to talk about?”

He knew that he deserved some of the attitude. It was only fair. Letting out a sigh, he pushed off the door and walked over so that he could sit on the edge of your bed. “I didn’t expect you to show up like that. It caught me off-guard.”

You finally looked up at him, anger in your eyes but sadness too. “What would you like me to do instead next time I think you’re in a hospital or dead somewhere, Bucky?”

He tucked his chin towards his chest for a moment. “Things just got hectic. I didn’t have time—”

“I get it,” you said, and honestly you did. But it did nothing to mitigate your worry. “But do you get where I’m coming from? I,” you shook your head, “I count on you to tell me you’re alright because no one else will. Your team doesn’t know me. I’m not gonna get a phone call or a visit from someone who works for you guys. I’m just your fucking roommate so—”

“Hey,” he cut you off, resting his hand on your arm as he did, “stop.”

You leaned back against your headboard. “Your words, not mine.”

He frowned as he nodded. “I know.”

“That was shitty.”

He nodded again. “I know.”

You sighed, finally setting your laptop off to the side. “I know that we never really talked about everything with us, and that’s, you know, that’s on me too.” You paused, waiting for him to look you in the eyes. “But do you really just think of me as your—”

“No,” his voice was as genuine as it’d ever been. “I just, I froze up. I wasn’t expecting to see you there, wasn’t expecting Sam to—” he huffed, stopping himself short as he shook his head. “You’re not just my roommate.”

A weak smile crossed your lips. “Good.”

“I don’t wanna lose you,” he confessed.

You shook your head. “I don’t wanna lose you either.” You let out a soft laugh. “Which is why you gotta let me know you’re okay when you get home.”

He smiled, nodding. “That’s fair.”

Letting out a deep breath, your body relaxing a bit for the first time all night, you took his hands in yours and pulled him into you. “Come here.” You draped your arms around his neck in a hug, feeling the way his arms wound around your waist.

He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “I’m sorry.”

You let your head rest in the crook of his neck for a moment before pulling away so you could get a good look at his face. You gently cupped his cheek. “It’s okay.”

He let his forehead drop to rest against yours. “We okay?”

“Depends,” you said, a little bit of laughter in your voice. “If I’m not just your roommate, does that mean I’m your girlfriend?”

He chuckled, nodding. “Yea, it means your my girlfriend.”

You beamed, leaning in to kiss him. “Good.” Pulling away from him, you swung your legs over the edge of your bed, standing up and holding your hand out for him to join you. “Come on.” You saw the confusion on his face as he put his hand in yours and elaborated. “There is still plenty of time for our homecoming snack.”

He smiled as he let you tug him off the bed. “Lead the way.”

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Basement Bros

I haven't done a ghostbusters au fic in a while, so it's time to sow the seeds of romance between you and König. He's a little gremlin in his lab, but dammit somebody's gotta get through to him and it's gonna be Recruit. I believe in you, Recruit. That's why I'm shoving you down into the basement with the Big Gremlin (tm) and making you sit together.

CW: None. Ghosts? Maybe.

Wordcount: 1.9k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

Basement Bros

“Hey, Recruit!” you heard Horangi before you felt him clap his hand on your shoulder as he leaned around into your vision, “can you go check in on König? He’s trying to do something to the proton packs, but I just wanna see if he needs any help.”

“Why don’t you go ask him?” you grumbled.

“König’s weird about people going into his lab,” Horangi explained.

“Then why are you sending me in there?” you shot him a dirty look, “isn’t he gonna bite my head off?”

Horangi shrugged, “Maybe. Better you than me though.”

Before you could argue further, Horangi had scurried down the hall to leave you in the dust.

Of course Horangi would saddle you with this job right before you had to go home. Of course he had to do it when you knew König would be at his crabbiest. Which, your supposed, is exactly why Horangi chose you to do the job.

It wasn’t that you disliked König by any means, and it wasn’t that he disliked you. It’s was just… Well, he’d hardly spoken to you since the day he told you about his grandfather’s life in Austria during the World Wars. Hell, he seemed to go right back to how he always was: shy, trepid, afraid to even say ‘boo’ to a ghost. Literally. He’d not been able to fight against a class one specter you had to lock away, lest it nibble on his bootlaces any longer. That said, you figured it was less that he was ‘afraid’ and more that he was distracted by the readings on his latest invention, too invested to notice the little spook munching away on his aglets. He’d howled up quite a storm when Nikto shot his boot though.

König was a strange creature to deal with. One day, he’d be open enough to share a room with you when drinking coffee. Out on the field, König was brave and daring. He was almost inspiring in how brave and confident he was. If you were honest with yourself, a bit hot too.

You shook your head clear of the thought. You? And König? Like that had a snowball’s chance in hell. König had one love in his life and that was science. He was a scientist through and through and nothing could change that about him. If you wanted to get close to him, you’d have to accept that you’d always play second fiddle to his love of ectobiology.

You sighed as you pulled the basement door open. You liked König, but he just made it so hard. He was difficult to talk to, harder to understand. It was miserable trying to get close to him. You felt like the ghosts he chased after would always catch his eye before you.

In the basement, you followed the sounds of drills and hammering to an opening where König was hunched over a small device.

“Hey König!” you called out.

The man jumped and whirled around to look at you. He glanced over you, held up a big hand for a tiny wave, then turned back to his project.

“So, uh…” you voice was drowned out by the sound of a drill boring into metal. When the drilling stopped, you tried again only to have the same thing happen all over again. You gave it a third shot, only to be met with similar results. You sighed, and walked around to the table and took a seat.

König raised the welding visor to give you a look from behind his mask.

“Horangi asked me to check on you,” you explained.

“I am fine,” he grunted and pulled the visor back down.

“Okay,” you nodded and leaned back on the stool. You drummed your hands against the tables, only to snap them to you chest when a shower of sparks nearly fell upon them.

You looked at the glowing embers and back up to König.

“If you want to stay, get some gloves and goggles,” he curmured.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You gladly swung around to go and grab a pair of gloves and slid a pair of clear plastic safety glasses over your face. You wriggled your fingers in the the thick fabric, happy to find they weren’t a bad size for you. You heard the drill again, and smartly grabbed a pair of soundproof headphones.

“Alright, gottem,” you said as you threw yourself back into the seat.

König only nodded and continued drilling. You watched the sparks fly up and shower over his welding mask before flying out behind him. A couple more drills, and he set the tool down to the side. He pulled up his mask to reveal the cloth mask underneath.

“You really wear your mask under the other mask?” you snorted.

König’s glare was withering, whether it be from being tired or if he was actually irritated was beyond you. Either way, he didn’t try to shoo you off, so that had to count for something.

“It’s comfortable.”

“Is it?” you laughed.

“Comfortable enough,” König replied as he plugged in a soldering iron.

You decided not to push it. Sometimes, it was best to let König be. Instead of bothering him, you contented yourself with watching him work away on the circuit board in his hands. He hissed a couple of times when he made a mistake, but it was interesting to watch him clean up his mistakes and try again.

Though the silence felt awkward at first, you found it to be rather companionable as time went on. König was surprisingly easy to share space with once he was left alone to his own devices. You were able to get your emails done from your phone in a staggeringly short amount of time. You even managed to clear your inbox before König had finished one side of the circuit board. You finished off sending a few texts by the time König finally flipped the board, leading to you having nothing in particular to do anymore.

You eventually put your phone down on the table to focus back on König. He seemed perfectly content with the silence. If you weren’t unsure about it, you felt like you might have even been able to say he looked positively relaxed. You almost wanted to take a picture to commemorate the moment.

König put down the soldering iron and held up the board to the light. You watched as he tilted it back and forth, then brought it back up to his face for closer inspection.

“Is everything alright?” you queried as you crossed your arms over the table.

“So far…” König muttered, “everything looks right.”

You nodded as though you understood what he was saying. With how focused he was on the circuit board, you were able to get a good look at him, a rare occurrence indeed. Usually he was huddled away in a back corner with Nikto or scrambling out of sight in search of something or another. More often than not he was grabbing a new device he wanted to show off. You smiled at the memory of him wrestling Hutch for a new meter he made that measured how radioactive spirits were.

“So what’s this for, anyways?” you asked as he got up from his stool.

“This?” König held up the board, “or that?” he pointed over to the counter behind him, where a great mess of electronics were tangled together in a heap.

You glanced between both before settling on, “Both.”

“This,” he held up the board, “is to measure the relative humidity and temperature of a room and compare them against each other. This,” he sauntered over to the trash heap, “is one part of a series of relay signals we can install around a haunt location to track the relative humidity and temperature of each room, allowing us to more accurately follow a paranormal entity’s movements through a monitored space. It’s connected to a program Hutch has been working on to help guide us more easily through a client’s home. It has the side benefit of giving him a better layout of the haunt location so he isn’t guiding us through the dark, so to say.”

“Sounds pretty complicated,” you nodded slowly.

“It’s only just coming together, but I think it’ll really change our whole operation!” König cheered, “Roze and Horangi keep telling me I’m a money sink in this company, but this device could truly revolutionize ghost hunting!”

“Wait,” you held up a hand, “there’s other ghost hunters around?”

König narrowed his eyes, “Ja? There are? Have you never heard of Team Fantom 141?”

You shook your head.

“British team located in South Kensington, London,” König explained, “they’re pretty impressive, but not nearly as advanced as what we’ve got. There’s also the Shadow Company, but that’s on the opposite side of the country.”

“So it’s most American and British?” you concluded.

“Nein!” König shook his head quickly, “there’s a Russian group called Inner Circle, but they are…” König cringed, “they are not so good. Very difficult to work with. There’s also the Opfor in the Middle East, they’ve got a few branches. Oh and a couple of different groups in Brazil and Peru, and one that runs in Trinidad and Tobago. Other than that,” König shrugged, “they’re all hacks.”

“I didn’t know there was anybody else who dealt with real ghosts,” you hummed.

“Of course there are!” König laughed, “we didn’t get this idea all on our own! Well, actually, we did, but that’s a different story.”

“Wait, you guys didn’t know of any other real ghostbusters before you started this whole thing?” you asked.

“We didn’t know anything about it,” König admitted, “we just thought there were hacks. That, and a few religious institutes, but we were very excited to learn about others! Though, well, the Shadow Company was founded after us. TF 141 and us really built off of each other to get set up.”

“So you guys talk to the others a lot?” you leaned your elbows on the table.

“Of course!” König turned to start working on his equipment, “it’s how we’ve managed to come so far so quickly! Technology like this doesn’t just appear overnight, ja?”

“Makes sense,” you replied.

König returned back to tinkering with his work. You admired him for a moment, but eventually you felt the urge to stretch your legs and leave this shoddy basement.

You passed by him with a wave and a smile, not really paying attention to him and instead focussing on figuring out the route home. If nothing else, at least you could tell Horangi that König was fine. You barely noticed a faint whisper.

“What was that?” you ducked your head down to see König as you headed up the stairs.

“I said it was nice having you here,” König replied, still timid but a bit louder.

You smiled brightly.

“It was great being here!”

“You should come here more often.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull.

“You think so?” you called back.

“Ja,” König nodded primly, “it would be nice to have some company.”

You smiled back at him brightly, “Alright, well, I’ll think about it.”

“Please do,” König’s reply was a bit too quick to be natural, but the sentiment wasn’t lost on you.

As you walked out of the basement, you realized that you were the only person on the whole Ghostbusters team to officially be given an open invitation to König’s lab down in the basement. Somehow, without even trying, you’d managed to get the most prestigious honor in the entire group.

You decided that on the way home, you’d get yourself a half pint of ice cream. After today? You deserved a little treat.

Konig Dump

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