#i think legitimately the first guy to eat one must have lost a bet or something

[gender-euphowrya]

seriously though who was the first cunt at the beach to spot an oyster and be like "hm someone sneezed into this seashell. Yummy!"

[spinster-sisters]

Precious. JYN

restaurant worker! au (idk its just gengeral slice of life)

TW: size kink (this is yunho we are talking about) boob stuff (this is me we are talking about, praise, dom! yunho, sub! reader. there is some unwanted inappropriate touching done by an older guy but it doesnt last long.

WC: 5k

-

The very first thing you noticed about the restaurant you now worked at was how hot the manager interviewing you was. Yeah, you had worked with conventionally attractive people before, but most of them found a way to make themselves unappealing through words or actions. Not Yunho however, a month into working as a waitress you had to simply conclude that there was nothing not to love about him. Of course, he was dashing, that much was obvious, but it was so much more than that, he was unbelievably considerate of others and fiercely protective of his crew, he had a million-dollar smile and could charm his way out of any problem with a customer. Not to mention he was built like a God with both the height and muscles to make your mouth water. Yunho was lucky, and things just seemed to fall into place around him.

Of course, you were aware of this, as he made it impossible to forget.

As time progressed you became more accustomed to your coworkers and better at your job, soon you found a place in the tight-knit group of friends that worked together so work was usually fun.

Except for today. You have been at this job for 6 months now and somehow, with the exception of Yunho, you found yourself on a shift solely staffed by newbies without a clue. And it was a very busy night. You had lost count of the number of times one of your fellow waiters had to call you over to answer a guest question or how many times it was you who had to apologize to them for their server's mistake but it was starting to get to you.

You had a brief moment right in the middle of dinner service where all of your tables were eating happily and you would have a moment to rest. You knew that if you stood there for a moment longer you would be called over by one of the other waiters so you quickly made your way over to the bar where Yunho stood at the POS system. You used his size as an advantage and literally hid behind him. Of course, people could still see you, but at least you weren't standing directly in front of the waiter's station where you would surely be bothered.

You heard the man laugh quietly, and though you couldn't see his face you bet he was hiding a smile.

"Rough night?" He questioned, talking in a way as not to draw attention to you.

"Of course I would get stuck on a shift like this. Not a single person on the crew tonight knows what they're doing! I'm surprised you're even here, I thought the gods of the universe loved you too much" you finished your mini-rant in a mumbling tone, rubbing your eyes before looking out into the dining room just in time to watch the newest crew member, a thin gangly boy named Trevor, spill a glass of water all down the front of an older woman, and you groaned.

Yunho chose to laugh quietly again before speaking up, knowing that now that there was a new disaster your conversation would be cut short once the newbie found you.

"Don't be so hard on them, you were that stupid when you first started," he joked before looking back down at his screen.

"No, I was not!" You cried, "besides why is everyone bothering me? You're the manager shouldn't you be dealing with angry customers? That is above my pay grade." You finish as soon as the young waiter spotted you and began to make his way over.

"Because I told them to," Yunhi replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"And why would you do that?" You asked thoroughly annoyed. Coming out from behind the man as Trevor was about halfway across the dining room.

Yunho laughed his brightest laugh. The one that made your stomach swirl with butterflies. He turned finally and looked directly at you, just before the waiter was in earshot he spoke,

"Because you're cute when you're grumpy,"

And that is another thing about Yunho that was impossibly unfair. The man was a relentless flirt. And that wasn't just to you, anytime he made eye contact with anyone it's like he can't hold back the wink.

Finally, your peak time was over. After the incident with the water, the rest of the rush seemed to pass without a problem. There were only about two more hours till you could crawl back into the warmth of your bed and give your feet a real rest.

You had just finish bussing a table when the door chimed again. You could hear the host talking from where you were standing, and her words made your heart sink.

"Well of course Mr. Miller! You want your regular table I'm guessing,"

And then the reply in a groveling tone,

"She better be here tonight, I am starting to think she avoiding me,"

The "she" in question was you. And yes you were. Mr. Miller was a middle-aged sleazy man who came in close to close every Friday night demanding that you serve him. For the past few weeks you have asked Yunho if you could have Fridays off like he did, but due to some call-outs both of you had to come in.

You highly considered running to the back and feigning illness to go home, but it was too late.

"There she is!" The gargley voice called out. Admitting defeated you finally turned to look at him, and with the biggest fakes smile, you could muster you replied.

"Hey, Mr. Miller,"

From the moment he sat down he was already laying it on thick.

"Well, aren't you looking as nice as ever? Some might think you trying something," he winked at you. You had to hold back your vomit. The man was and had been since the moment he first sat at your table 6 months ago that you were his alone, if you spent too much time at another table instead of entering him he would throw a fit. If you didn't laugh at one of his jokes about your body he would throw some line like "come on, give me a smile." If you didn't fully play into the delusion that you were interested in him he would push even harder. And he didn't even tip.

So you played along "Well you know me, I always gotta look my best for you," you said trying to be friendly to appease him, but already knowing damn well that tonight he was going to be insufferable.

You took his drink order and escaped from him as quickly as you could. The other thing you hated about him was how long he stayed. Well after he finished his meal he would stick around for a while watching you. So you weren't even surprised when you felt his eyes on your body as you walked away.

Yunho was observing this interaction from afar completely confused. Friday was one of Yunho's days off every week so he had never seen this before, and he must have looked confused because the host had walked over to him to explain.

"It's weird, right? A child could see how much she hates him but every Friday he comes absolutely convinced that it's her favorite day of the week."

It was getting late, and there were barely any customers left in the dining room when you finally took his empty dinner plate from his table. Not that he was ready to leave yet.

"You know, I've been thinking" he starts before you can walk away, "how does someone as pretty as you end up working at a place like this?" He asks peering at you from over his glass of water.

"Well a girls gotta pay rent," you reply with the fakest giggle ever.

"If I had you, you wouldn't have to work a day in your life," he said, "what do you say, honey, you could quit this place for good," he asked setting his water down and grinning at you dangerously. This scared you. You couldn't help but let your smile falter for a moment, this you couldn't encourage.

"I don't know," was all you could say trying your hardest to make it all seem like a joke. You instinctively step back from the table. In a brief moment, you noticed his hand moving twords your body but it was too late, he had already put his bent fingers on your leg and gripped it.

"Come on, you know I could treat you right."

You physically recoiled but his grip was strong. You were legitimately terrified. He had suggested on a few occasions before that he would wait for you in his car after you close and watched you, he knew which car was yours and could easily follow you. It was clear he didn't take no for an answer.

You didn't know what to do, you simply stood there petrified with the man's grimy hand moving up your leg. Just when it was going to reach the hem of your uniform skirt you were pulled away behind the familiar height of Jung Yunho.

"Sir if you touch any of my employees again I will have you kicked out." Gone was the playful tone that permeated Yunhos normal speech. Instead, he was icy and cold no room for negotiation in his voice. But that didn't stop Mr. Miller from trying.

"Calm down son, me and my favorite girl were just having a polite conversation." He said looking at where you were peeking out from behind Yunho, clearly expecting you to back him up. Instead, you looked anywhere but at him.

"No sir, you were visibly harassing one of my waitresses. it is inappropriate to talk to anyone that way much less if they are working and unable to walk away. If you leave now there will be no further issue." He said, still trying to speak civilly despite his growing agitation. In your desperation to not look at the man you glanced around the room. All eyes, both employe, and patron were staring directly at you. This made it so much worse and chose to look directly at Yunho's side profile.

"Who are you to tell me what to do! I am a paying customer and a loyal patron. I will talk to whom I please!" The older man's voice began to rise clearly not liking the way this conversation was going.

"That girl behind you has been my waitresses for 6 months and if I want to touch her I will!" You heard a fist slam on the table. You jumped and Yunho pulled you farther behind himself. You couldn't help but fist the back of his shirt in terror when you heard the scrape of a chair on the floor. Mr. Miller was now standing, trying his hardest to get in Yunho's face despite how the younger man towered over him.

"If you don't walk away right now ill beat your ass boy!" Miller screamed, getting as close as possible to Yunho. You practically cowered into Yunho's back, still clinging onto the fabric of his black dress shirt like you would physically unravel if you let go.

Yunho stood stoic while the man yelled. Afterward, he took a pause, before speaking.

"Trevor, call the police and tell them we have a customer harassing our staff and threatening violence." He spoke with a defining certainty, no room for an argument from Trevor or Mr. Miller.

Yunho's gentle hand took hold of your upper arm to lead you away from the man. He turned you away from where he stood dumbfounded, and lead you back into the office, and locked the door.

Yunho lead you to one of the two chairs in the cramped room fumbled around for a bit with the water cooler, bringing you a small paper cup to drink from before finally taking a seat himself. The room was small, from the way you were sitting and Yunho's long limb his knees brushed against your own.

You stared and him and he did the same to you, neither saying a word. The man before you looked remarkably calm for the ordeal he just faced but based on the concern in his eyes you looked shaken. You hadn't realized you were crying till the drops landed on the shaky hand still grasping the paper cup for fear of life.

"Please don't cry" was all he said at first. He was silent for a moment but your tears didn't stop. He shifted a bit and the knee touching your own brushed the outermost part of your thigh. He sighed.

"Why didn't you tell anyone how bad he was? Why didn't you tell me?" He spoke calmly. He didn't sound mad in the slightest but his words brought a dry sob from your lips. He looked almost scared for a second before correcting himself in a pleading tone.

"Please don't think I blame you in the slightest. What happened was not your fault," one large hand came to rest almost timidly on your leg.

"I just wish I could have stopped this before it happened."

-

It has been a few weeks since the incident. News of what had happened had spread around the staff quickly and although Mr. Miller had fled the restaurant before the police arrived, everyone on the crew knew that he was not allowed on the premises and if his car so much as pulled into the parking lot the police assured us that he would be escorted off the property for trespassing.

Yunho had insisted that you take the next 5 days off afterward and even when you returned everyone was walking on eggshells around you, not wanting to do anything to upset you.

The closest circle of team members made it a point to have outings every so often as many of you were quite close outside of work, and although some of them (with your best interest at heart) didn't think you should come out, it was once again Yunho who advocated that spending time alone in your apartment would do you no good. So here you were at approximately 9 o'clock outside a small bar/club getting excited about your first night of relaxation since that day.

Once you found your way into the building it wasn't hard to spot your group. Many of them were already drunk from pre-gaming and the rest of them were well on the way. It brought a fond smile to your face. When you joined the group there were cries of excitement and soon you all fell into the groove of the evening.

You had noticed Yunho the moment you walked in because he seemed to be the only sober one of the bunch. Of course, he knew how to party better than anyone, but tonight he seemed satisfied to just watch the rowdiness unfold.

You weren't drinking cuz of the practical reason that you drove yourself here today. After making your rounds talking with every one of your friends you found yourself gravitating to Yunho as you always seemed to do. He was sitting in a circular booth so it was easy to slide in next to him.

"Not drinking tonight?" You asked.

"No. Someones gotta keep an eye on these crazy people" he replied as jovial as always, instead taking a sip of what appeared to be coke.

"Well I guess I will have to help you then"

After a few hours of talking happily with Yunho while also keeping a close eye on your friends, you found yourself, once again knee to knee with Yunho. Except this time instead of sitting in front of him, you were almost sitting on top of him. You honestly had no clue how this happened, but he didn't seem to mind. Actually, Yunho himself was now sitting with his long arm wrapped across your shoulders pulling you even closer to his side.

"YUNHO" one of your fellow waiters fell into the space beside you, but with their lack of coordination they ended up bumping into you enough that if Yunho hadn't pulled you fully into his lap you would have toppled onto the floor underneath the table. But once the crowd of crewmembers was alerted of your guys' presence they all simultaneously pushed into the booth so there was no room to sit back in your spot.

You were blushing now, thankful that your friends were too drunk to notice how Yunho's arm was wrapped around your waist keeping you securely in place. As the talking resumed Yunho leaned down to whisper into your ear,

"This is all right? I can get them to move if you want," though it was probably unintentional Yunhos breath was sending shivers down your spine, which only got stronger when you finally came to realize how much larger he was then you, effortlessly keeping your body snugly against his chest tight enough to feel each breath he took, the hand wrapped on your waist was large enough to palm your whole thigh if he wanted to. And that thought was exciting.

"No, I'm fine," though you sounded a bit shaky you snuggled yourself even further back onto his lap to show your appreciation. He chuckled lowly in your ear before returning to the conversation. But your mind could not be further from it. You had never realized before how incredibly safe you felt with Yunho or more specifically in his arms and chose to instead focus on the weight of his hand on you, the subtle shifting of his thighs underneath your own as he spoke, and the deep rumble that moved your body with his own every time he laughed.

When it came time for everyone to go home you didn't want to. You didn't like the idea of removing yourself from Yunho's lap at all. But alas, it had to be done.

As the two sober friends, you two were talked with calling cabs and making sure everyone got home safely. Until finally the two of you stood alone on the pavement. You felt the need to say something.

"I don't think I ever thanked you," you said turning to face the man in the cold air. He turned his body twords you as well.

"You don't need to thank me for sitting on my lap, trust me the pleasure was all mine," he joked, and you couldn't help but chuckle along with him.

"You know that's not what I meant," you said in a small voice.

"You don't need to thank me for that either, trust me," his big smile turning smaller but sweeter. This confused you.

"What do you mean?"

Yunho sighed with a smile.

"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet," was all he said. But your confused face brought more words out of him. He took a step closer to you leaning down and speaking in a quiet voice he said,

"You, have always been very precious to me, and that day was no different. I would go to much greater lengths to keep you safe if I had to,"

His words, although spoken in the softest tone struck you straight through the heart. You had always dreamed of being with Yunho but you had never imagined he felt the same way. He took another step, leaving almost no room between you.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, bringing a hand up to the back of your head. Words weren't forming so you chose to nod instead.

It only took a beat longer for him to lean down and press his plush lips into your own. Yunho wasn't one to beat around the bush and put all of his passion into the kiss, leading your lips with his own guiding your mouth to respond exactly as he wished.

You put your hands on his firm chest as his other arm circled your waist bringing you in even closer. Your mouths were so intertwined neither of you dared to break the kiss for quite a while, simply enjoy the feeling, but soon the need for oxygen won out. You pulled apart gasping, but still holding each other close.

-

You're not quite sure how exactly you ended up back at your apartment but that was unimportant, what mattered was keeping your mouth on Yunho's. You two had barely gotten through the door before your back was pressed against it in a quick motion.

Along with his considerable height, Yunho also had considerable strength, so when leaning down for you became uncomfortable he chose to instead wrap your legs around his waist and lift you.

In this new position, you were at the perfect height to move his lips to your neck. He found the perfect spot on it before sucking a dark purple mark into the skin, nibbling it a bit before licking it soothingly. The wet feeling of his tongue pulled a new sound from your lips,

"Yunho!" You whined into his ear.

He seemed overjoyed at this reaction and desperate to recreate it he rolled his hips into yours. You could feel his hard length pressing oh so perfectly into your clothed slit you desperate cry could probably be heard three doors down. The man was big.

"You sound so cute" Yunho giggled into your jaw, before pressing a sweet kiss into the skin.

One of his large hands slipped below the hem of your shirt and moved up to the cup of your bra. His long fingers groped your plush breast, holding the whole thing in his hand. The warmth of his fingers and the pleasant squeeze had you whining once again.

"Your so sensitive baby," he remarked, giving your breast another squeeze. In an attempt to keep your noises contained you reached out and pulled his head to meet your lips again. This kiss was much more desperate than the others both of your lips moving so fast it was hard to keep up, your teeth clacking together in the process. Yunho rolled his hips into yours again and you squealed into his lips.

Keeping you as firmly planted on the kiss as possible Yunho's hand fell from your chest back to your hips before pulling you completely off the wall and your arms instinctively clung to his broad shoulders.

Your apartment was only one bedroom so Yunho had bo problem blindly navigating the way to your bedroom. As soon as the door was open you were practically flung backward onto your bed. In an instant Yunho found his way onto your bed, once his back was pressed into the headboard Yunho took hold of your body and manhandled you onto his lap facing him, you were once again faced with just how big Yunho was. Both of his arms wrapped around your body pulling you close and positioning your heat directly over his dick, where an impressive tent in his jeans rubbed directly into you. The loose skirt you were wearing did nothing to cover your panties. You kneed into him finally taking the initiative to grind down repeatedly onto him.

"Awe, baby you look so cute like this, all flustered and needy. Look you're making a mess on me." You hadn't noticed how wet you were until this point but he was right, you were completely soaked through the thin material of your underwear, and with each roll of your hips, you were dampening his jeans.

"Yunho," you begged "please touch me,"

"But you look so good like this. I could watch this all day. Sitting pretty on my lap, just waiting for me to fuck you."

"Please?" You cried still desperately chasing the friction his jeans were giving your clit. He flashed his million-dollar smile before giving in, slipping one veiny hand into your panties cupping your whole heats in his hand for a moment, wetting his fingers before sliding two long digits into you. You showed your appreciation in a moan and clung to his broad shoulders again.

"Please Yunho! I want more. Please fuck me." You begged.

"Not yet, baby, I gotta open you up first. Don't want to hurt you do I." As he spoke he speaks the pace of his fingers scissoring them open inside of you stretching you wider. You bucked into his hand.

"My little baby is fucking herself into my hand. How cute," your exhaled loudly then dropped your head onto his shoulder tugging at his shirt begging him to remove it. Yunho chose to first use his free hand to slide your own top of your body before taking hold of your neck and pulling your upper body away from his. With your help eventually, his shirt was pulled from him leaving your view of his beautiful chest and bulging muscles open to admire.

You almost forgot about the hand moving inside of you while you ran your own up and down the Yunho's chest, trying to feel every bump and ridge there was. Your eyes were glazing over in wonder, but you were soon brought back to reality when another finger pushed inside of you, joining the others in your pulsing pussy. Your head rolled back in a moan.

"Like what you see baby? Because I am really enjoying this view." You were sitting so pretty on his lap your skirt had been pushed up and your soaked lacy panties matched your bra perfectly. In all the movement your chest was starting to spill out of your bra.

"Baby you look so fucked out and small right now and I haven't even done anything yet, are you sure you need me to fuck you?" He asked teasingly.

"Yunho, please," your nails began dragging down his golden skin leaving a trail of red lines, "please, please fuck me." Spewed past your lips. A wicked smile graced his lips.

"You want me to fuck you into the mattress?" He asked.

"Yes! Please!" This was almost embarrassing but if anything your flushed tone only made him happier.

"No, I don't think I will." He said pulling his finger out of you.

You whined.

Yunho undid his belt pushing his pants down just enough to pull his expressive length out of his boxers. You watched with bated breath as he stroked himself a few times before meeting your eyes.

"How about you ride me instead?"

You nodded eagerly almost lunging forward. Yunho helped support your body as you hovered over him, before lining you up and pulling your body down onto him. The stretch was painful at first, you could feel him deeper than anyone else had ever reached but you clenched down on him appreciatively. You took a moment to gather yourself, half expecting him to thrust into you, but he stayed perfectly still. You meet his eyes with your own going wide and he giggled.

"I'm not moving baby if you want to get fucked you have to do it yourself." As he spoke he pulled both hands off you, resting them on his thighs.

You sat breathless for a second longer, unable to form a coherent thought, but the sudden twitch of his dick inside you brought you back to the task at hand. Slowly but surely you began moving, lifting yourself till only his tip was inside you before falling back down. You both groaned satisfied but it only lasted a second before you repeated the action, and then again, and again, slowly building speed each time and realizing quite moans every time he filled you up completely.

You had now set a fast pace, you were unsure how long you could keep it but the growing pleasure filling your abdomen kept you moving. Yunho's eyes were trained on you, switching from your blessed out face, to your bouncing tits, to where his long dick was disappeared into your cunt each time it reappeared coated in your juries.

"Baby, if only you could see yourself right now," he spoke over the sounds of skin slapping and pretty moans, "honestly you look good enough to eat sweetheart"

His words of praise-filled your ears and encouraged you to move faster, desperately clenching on his dick feeling it twitch return along with his deep rumbling groan. Your hands were still firmly planted on his chest and you used this grip for support trying once again to increase your pace. Your thighs were beginning to burn but it felt too good to stop, not when you were this close.

"Yunho, please help me," you whined, your legs faltering in their attempt to keep moving.

"Oh? But you're doing so well baby," he said with an adoring smile watching your face.

"Please Yunho?" you asked running your palms down the ridges of his chest once again. Your building pleasure had started to plateau as you couldn't keep up the pace, your thighs starting to burn even harder. You were so close but you couldn't put yourself over the edge and if growing moans from the man in front of you were anything to go by then he was right there with you.

He seemed to consider this for a moment before chuckling.

"I guess my baby is just not strong enough to make herself cum. I suppose I could help with that."

You only had time to breathe a sigh of relief before you were thrown back onto the covers. Yunho's large frame loomed over you with a sinister smirk. You barely registered the anticipation in your body before he slammed his entire length back into you. Setting a brutal pace. You cried out instantly and your voice rang through the walls of the apartment like a symphony.

Each time Yunho's hips connected with your own he hit that perfect spot inside of you bringing more noises from you. One of his hands came down onto the mattress beside your head and the other took hold of your thigh using it to maneuver you into the exact position he wanted.

Now Yunho was grunting along with you trying hurtling both of your twords your orgasms at an incredible pace. Just as you were about to be thrown over the edge Yunho connected your lips again swallowing your moans. It only took one more perfectly timed thrust before you came toppling over the edge. Although your lips were still connected, it didn't do much to help the lewd sounds spilling out of you. The pleasure came from your core in waves, arching your back and making your legs twitch violently.

Not long after you came down from the high your body began pulling away from Yunho's thrust but he held you in place.

"Just a little longer baby, I promise."

And just when the buzzing pain of overstimulation subsided, Yunho filled pulled out of you and spilled his sticky cum across your body. He stood above you for a moment, you both were panting but you were clearly the more worn out of the two.

Yunho's eyes moved across your whole body once before meeting your own eyes.

"Your precious"

[nugnthopkns]

i’ll wait and i’ll listen

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of deafness/hearing loss, cursing, i think that’s it

recommended listening: new song | maggie rogers & del water gap

a/n: hi! first and foremost, i want to say that this is based off my own personal experiences with a deaf father, and it is in no way a reflection of how other people or families with hearing issues operate. this is just how we live and how my dad goes about life. with that out of the way, enjoy some soft nolan content i threw together in 45 minutes. pretty sure i made this gender neutral, but please point out any mistakes!

There’s no legitimate reason for you to be so apprehensive about Nolan meeting your parents.

He’s a great person who is all you could ever ask for in a partner. The two of you get along like peas in a pod, and honestly most of the time your relationship feels like two friends hanging out. Of course there’s a bit more romance involved – but being with Nolan is so easy you barely have to think about it. 

Your parents aren’t the issue either. They’re both incredibly supportive of your relationship, and anything else you do. If it weren’t for them, you never would have left home – they’re the ones who packed the car and drove you all the way to Philadelphia. You never would have met Nolan if they hadn’t practically forced you out of the house and into the world. 

Truthfully, both parties would probably get along great. Your mother is kind and welcoming, and your father has interests similar to Nolan’s. Your younger siblings adore him – they came to visit one weekend and you took them to an afternoon game at Wells Fargo Centre, and afterwards the four of you went out for burgers. Since then they talk to him regularly, and have been begging for you to return home with Nolan. You can tell your parents are getting antsy too – after all, you’ve been with Nolan for nearly two years. 

Yes, Nolan has a busy schedule that doesn’t allow for much travel, but there have been plenty of opportunities over the years for everyone to get together. You’re the one who always comes up with a reason for him not to meet your parents. One time you were ‘sick’, another you were too busy with work to make the trip home. It isn’t that you’re worried they won’t approve or that Nolan will resent them. You’re apprehensive about bringing Nolan around because you’re worried there will be a communication barrier. 

Your dad is deaf, and Nolan doesn’t exactly enunciate his words well. His voice is also exceptionally deep, which doesn’t help much. It isn’t a secret, your father’s hearing issues, and you’ve spoken to Nolan about them numerous times. Most of the time it’s you fretting about it getting worse and he listens intently while you sob into his chest. Since the hearing loss came from years of working around loud machines, it was gradual, which was frustrating for him. You were in high school when he got hearing aides, but eventually they lost their desired effect. Now your dad relies on reading lips and other non-aural markers like hand gestures to fill in the gaps. 

“Babe, I have to meet them at some point,” Nolan says through a mouthful of pasta. “Especially since I plan on sticking around.”

Your mom had called earlier in the afternoon to ask when you were coming home next. The upcoming weekend is free in your schedule, and when you told her she insisted you bring Nolan. He’s out for the season with the migraine related issues so you couldn’t exactly lie and say he was going to be out of town. Instead, you fed her some bullshit excuse and said you’d check to see if he could move some stuff around. 

“I know,” you sigh. “I just don’t want you or my dad getting frustrated if talking doesn’t go smoothly.”

Nolan pushes his chair back from the table and walks to stand behind you. He rubs your shoulders soothingly and leans down to whisper in your ear. “There are a million and ten other ways I can communicate with him Sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.”

Deep down, you know he’s right. There’s no reason the two of them can’t communicate, even if they can’t do it verbally. After discussing it more and ironing out all your doubts, you call your mom back to let her know both you and Nolan will be coming. A small weight lifts from your chest, knowing that you’ll get the first meeting over with, but dread slowly creeps in. There are so many ways it could go wrong. 

☼☼☼☼

You and Nolan stand on the doorstep of your childhood home hand in hand. As if he can sense how nervous you are, Nolan squeezes gently, reminding you of his unwavering presence. 

“Whatever happens isn’t going to change the fact that I love you,” he says, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. 

To steady yourself from the negative thought swirling in your brain you lean closer to Nolan. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and uses his free hand to knock on the door. Less than two seconds your sister is bounding towards the door and flinging it open. 

“Mom! Y/N and Nolan are here!”

She steps to the side and lets the pair of you in. You shrug off your jacket and hang it on the rack behind the door – Nolan copies. As soon as you’re inside the entryway your mother is wrapping you in a massive hug. 

“I’m so glad you’re home darling,” she says, arms tight around you. “Was the drive okay?”

You go to answer her question but her attention is turned to your very tall boyfriend who is standing beside you like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“You must be Nolan. It’s so nice we could finally meet. Y/N has told me a lot about you.”

Nolan clears his throat before speaking, his deep voice echoing slightly off the ceiling. “All good things I hope,” he laughs, looking to you for reassurance. 

Nodding your head, you join in his laughter. You travel farther into the house, giving your brother a fistbump when you pass him in the hall. When you moved out your parents converted your room into a sophisticated guest bedroom, so there aren’t any embarrassing posters from your teenage years on the walls for Nolan to make fun of. You quickly unpack your suitcase, wanting to get back downstairs and spend time with your family. It’s been a while since you’ve been home, and you missed them more than you thought. 

“Is your dad here?” Nolan asks, hanging the couple of sweaters you guys brought up in the closet. 

You glance at the clock on the wall, you shake your head. “He’ll be home from work just before dinner.” 

The two of you head downstairs to chill with your siblings, but not without sharing a few kisses that make your spine tingle. At your brother’s insistence the four of you head to the basement to partake in an air hockey tournament. Though Nolan can hold his own in the NHL, he’s rather miserable at this iteration of the game. Your sister eliminates him in under five minutes, and after a hard fought battle you defeat your brother. 

Nolan tries to coach you before the gold medal game but you laugh him off. “Nol, you were terrible. I think I can hold my own.”

He breathes out harshly through his nose, but you know he isn’t upset with your teasing. “Fine,” he mumbles, “See if you can win without my all-star advice.”

Your sister manages to win in a shootout. It was a close game, and you challenge her to a rematch after dinner. She accepts, insisting you’ll lose again. Nolan bets he can race her around the property, so you move outside. Your mom lets you know dinner will be ready soon, and you throw her a thumbs up. 

Though your sister is a fast runner, she’s got nothing on Nolan’s six foot frame. He passes her with ease, cheekily throwing her the finger as he rushes by. You’re the finish line and instead of stopping when he reaches you, Nolan throws you over his shoulder and continues running through the yard. 

Your laugh rings out as you kick your feet. “Put me down!” you shriek. When he makes no attempt to prove he listened to your cries, you try again. “Nol, come on, put me down. If you fall it’ll be really bad.”

Knowing you’re right, Nolan stops moving and gingerly places you on the ground. His hands move to cup your face and he plants a warm kiss on your lips. You refuse to let it get too far, but you lean into him slightly and sigh when he pulls away. 

In the distance you hear your mom calling for dinner. “Kids, it’s time to eat,” she says. “Your father just got home.”

Your heart beat rises exponentially, and your steps drag slightly as you get closer to the door. Nolan notices, but doesn’t say anything. Instead he flashes you a smile that’s reserved just for you and makes your heart melt. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make sure I don’t mumble.”

In the dining room, you guide Nolan to sit beside your dad. You figure it’s the spot where he has the best chance of hearing your boyfriend, and no one seems to protest. They give each other a polite nod while the rest of you rush to place everything on the table and serve the food. 

Once everyone is sitting, Nolan takes the initiative to introduce himself. “It’s nice to meet you Sir,” he says a bit slower than his normal speaking voice, making sure to clearly enunciate his words. 

There’s no response from your father, and you suck in a breath. You watched him focus on Nolan’s lips while he spoke, but you fear he still couldn’t quite understand what your boyfriend said. It takes a few more beats for him to process what was spoken, but then your dad is cracking a smile and holding his hand out for Nolan to shake. 

“Glad Y/N isn’t hiding you from us anymore. I thought the first time I’d meet you was at the engagement party.” His voice is a few decibels louder than everyone else’s, due to not being able to hear himself, but Nolan doesn’t seem to mind. 

They slip into an easy conversation about work and hunting, asking each other a million questions. There’s barely room for any one else to contribute but the rest of you don’t mind – it’s been a long time since your dad has been able to go this long without asking someone for assistance. Of course there’s a few bumps in the road – Nolan not speaking clearly or looking elsewhere while telling a story, but that was to be expected. You step in when needed, repeating phrases and recreating scenes with hand actions. Overall, the meal goes swimmingly, and the two men leave the table eagerly to swap stories. 

You spend the time catching up with your mother, and she gushes over how Nolan is handling everything. “He’s doing so well,” she exclaims. “He’s so patient with your dad, waiting to make he understood what was said before continuing, and he doesn’t have an issue repeating himself a few times. You really lucked out Y/N.”

“I know,” you say honestly. “He’s simply the best.”

It’s a few hours later that Nolan finds his way back to you. You arch your brow, wondering what he got up to, and he explains that your dad took him for a walk in the forest to show him the deer he’d been tracking the past couple of weeks. It’s heartwarming that they get along so well, and you feel a little silly for fretting over what would happen. 

☼☼☼☼

“Your dad is nice,” Nolan shrugs as you crawl into bed beside him. “I could hardly tell he was deaf most of the time.”

You tuck yourself into his side and hum. “He does a great job of not letting it define him,” you agree. “But thank you for being so patient with him.”

A small peck is placed to your shoulder blade and you sigh at the contact of Nolan’s lips on your skin. “He did grumble about how my voice is too deep,” he laughs. “Said he could barely hear me. Once I knew that I made sure to speak clearly and let him read my lips.”

You’re speechless. None of your friends or past romantic partners had made that much of an effort to treat your dad like he was a person. They got short with him for needing them to slow down or repeat themselves, and often would refuse to see him again. It’s part of the reason you were so hesitant to introduce Nolan – you wanted to protect him from another person who might treat him differently because he can’t hear.

“I really fucking love you,” you whisper into the darkness. 

You can practically hear the grin in Nolan’s voice as he speaks. “I really fucking love you too.”

The rest of your stay will go just fine, you think as you drift to sleep. There was nothing to worry about, and you can’t wait to watch a friendship blossom between your dad and boyfriend. 

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe​ if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

[santouryuuu]

× HC : ZORO, MIHAWK, AND KIDD REALIZING THEY'VE FALLEN IN LOVE ×

pairing : zoro x reader, mihawk x reader, kidd x reader

requested by : anonymous

I am loving the scenarios and headcanons! I must ask (this might be difficult), what would Zoro, Mihawk, and Kidd react to realizing that they might have fallen in love?

��××

oml i finally finished this 💀 I'm so sorry this took so long 😔 school was really hectic and I couldn't find any time to write 😔 but I hope that it came out ok! Honestly had no clue how to write this, I hope I responded to the prompt correctly 😅 On a side note I can't believe this account reached 100 followers already!?? TYSM! ♥️

×××

🍶 He honestly had no idea what he was feeling at first. The dense motherfucker thought he was dying.

🍶 Nami, Robin, and Sanji had to tell him.

🍶 "oh... oH..."

🍶 He feels a bit scared because he doesn't feel like it would work out and maybe you're not interested and he's also scared about getting his heart crushed and—oh god.

🍶 Starts to blush a lot whenever you interact with him or whenever he sees you.

🍶 Was really grumpy and insecure at first, but seeing you always makes his days better so he's accepted the fact that he's hopelessly in love.

🍶 Since he struggles to verbally express himself, he thinks his actions would say a lot.

🍶 So he does start hanging around you more often and makes tons of excuses for you guys to hang out together.

🍶 "Hey, we ran out of sake, let's go buy some."

🍶 "Can't you—oh wait a minute."

🍶 Zoro thinks his poor sense of direction is a blessing during these times. Whenever he unintentionally gets the both of you lost, he gets the chance to spend more time with you.

🍶 He does also start to get protective, but it is very low key. When a guy starts flirting with you, you bet your ass Zoro's staring him down from behind the scenes.

🍶 When you go out alone, he tries his best to tail you to make sure you're safe, but ends up getting lost in the process and you'd end up looking for him.

🍶 He tries his best to spend a lot of time with you because for him that's basically like confessing to you

🍶Zoro spending a lot of time with you means that he really enjoys your company and would want to be in it forever.

🍷Well I mean he's more aware than Zoro that's for sure.

🍷 Doesn't really hate the idea but doesn't like it either. He's actually scared of you getting hurt if people found out that you were his weakness.

🍷He would try to organize himself first, and try to assess his feelings.

🍷Was he really falling in love or was it just infatuation?

🍷Mihawk doesn't act any differently around you, but once in awhile he goes out of his way to do something special for you.

🍷You're touched because it's so sweet, but really very skeptical because it's so unlike him.

🍷"Did you lose a bet with Shanks?"

🍷"No."

🍷"Okay..."

🍷Almost anything he does for you usually has a lot of hidden meanings and he just hopes that you are sharp enough to notice.

🍷He'd literally be one call away. Mihawk is unable to be by your side at all times, so if you ever decide to ask him to visit you (even if you were in Level 6 of Impel Down) he'd already be on his way.

🍷If you ever get caught up in any trouble, he'd most likely be the one to bail you out or fix your mess.

🍷You got caught by some Marines? Oh look it's Mihawk's boat

🍷Basically literally there for you no matter what.

🤖 oh lord.

🤖 Of course Kidd would deny having feelings for you.

🤖 He'd spend most days being passive aggressive to you or sometimes just ignoring you.

🤖 Honestly, Kidd just expected you to start liking him one day then maybe hopefully confess to him so he doesn't have to do the work, cause that shit's embarrassing.

🤖 Obviously that did not happen and he just ended up becoming grumpier as the days went on.

🤖 Kidd really hated the fact that just a look from you could give him two left feet or how you getting hurt in battle could send him into a blind rage.

🤖 Killer eventually had to talk to him.

🤖 "Do you think by ignoring and insulting her, Y/n's just suddenly gonna start liking you?"

🤖 "Yeah, that was the plan."

🤖 Kidd had to grow some balls and decided to face his feelings head on.

🤖 He would always subtly show affection while insulting you.

🤖 "Goddamn it! You're such a fucking idiot!"

🤖 "Save it, I know I fucked up."

🤖 "Yeah, you did! What do you think would've happened to you if I didn't get there in time?!"

🤖 "Please stop doing that, it's dangerous and you look stupid."

🤖 "Can you not put the crew in danger? Go back to your fucking room and sleep."

🤖 "Jesus, you look like you haven't eaten in days. Let's go get something to eat."

🤖 Kidd doesn't actually do any legitimate courting, just being his usual asshole self around you is already more than enough for him, because technically speaking if you can't love him for who he is, he wouldn't have liked you in the first place.

🤖 Although the first few days would be him in denial and being cold to you, Kidd would eventually warm up and start trying to show a bit of affection to win your heart.

[olicitysecretsanta]

One Day

This fic is my gift for @feilcityqueen who loves missing moments. By @tangled23works

Rating: Teen and Up    Words: 1500    Relationship: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak

I hope you’ll enjoy this one, my friend. It is set in Season 2, a little after Oliver makes that stupid mistake in Russia. Have fun reading!

November 2013

Felicity stared at the stupid gadget that her annoying friend from college had sent as a prank. The thing was built like a watch but it obviously didn’t function as a one or at least like any watch that she knew. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure what it was. She was tempted to break it with a hammer and claim it had been an accident but a bet was a bet and if she lost she would have honor it. Yup, that was not allowed. 

The continuous sound of metal clanking on metal disrupted her concentration. If her vigilante boss-slash-friend could stop doing that for one minute, she might have a chance to actually concentrate.

  As if he had heard her thoughts, he jumped from the salmon ladder on the unforgiving concrete. He made it seem effortless, moving quietly like a jungle cat but she knew it was the exact opposite. Felicity had once tried to climb on the thing, while Oliver was on a mission of course. Thankfully, Dig had caught her trying to get to the second rung before she could get hurt. It was higher than she had expected which had made her dizzy in seconds. That was the day she discovered her fear of heights was legitimate and not just a remnant of their break-in last year in Merlyn Global.

  “Fe-li-ci-ty”

  She jumped and turned around so fast that her ponytail smacked Oliver on the arm.

  “You need a bell. A big, brown, cowbell that rings whenever you move.” She made a mental note. “Yup, that’s what your Secret Santa is bringing you for the holidays. Not that I drew your name during this year’s Secret Santa at the office but if I had, I would definitely-”

  “Breathe, Felicity.”

  She fixed her glasses. “Why are you so sweaty?”

  His expression showed nothing but she could tell that he was amused. “Have you ever tried the ladder? It’s impossible not to be sweaty after thirty minutes on that thing.”

  “Wow, that’s the most words you have spoken to me since Russia. Are you sure you don’t have a fever or something?”

In hindsight, mentioning Russia and referring to Oliver’s escapades with TheOneWhoShallNotBeNamed might not have been such a great idea. The humour vanished from his expression and he reached for the nearest towel, turning his back to Felicity.

  “I know things have been fraught between us…”

  “Have they?” she mocked. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Felicity,” he sighed. 

  “You know, Oliver, saying my name isn’t considered a full sentence. Could you please use a little more grammar and syntax?”

  He grunted and threw the towel away.

  “And you’re back to brooding.” She threw her hands in the air. “Whatever, Oliver.”

  He put on a gray henley with a lot more force than was necessary.

  “What do you want me to say? I already explained-”

  “Yeah, let’s not revisit that particular discussion, thank you very much. It was hard enough to stomach the first time.”

  Their eyes locked for a few moments. In his gaze she could read the remorse and guilt eating him alive. There were a few other emotions buried under that but she had not mastered the art of deciphering his feelings yet. Suddenly, with a clarity that had been missing from her life for days she realized she didn’t want that. Making him apologize over and over would not make her feel any better. And Oliver Queen had enough things in this lifetime and the next to feel guilty about. He didn’t need her adding to that pile of misery.

  Russia had been a blessing in disguise. Her inappropriate dreams had just started to take shape when Oliver’s one night stand had delivered a blow more powerful than any lecture she could have given herself. The thought was like a bucket of cold water thrown to her face. Oliver didn’t see her that way. Sure, he liked her and she would bet her entire Doctor Who tea set that he respected her but it wasn’t the same. Still, the fact that he slept with that woman of all the women in the world, the one that tormented her and spread vile rumours in QC, rumours he had no idea about by the way, was a low blow.

“So,” she said with a forced lightness she didn’t feel, “I’m in trouble.”

  “What’s wrong?” He took a menacing step forward as if there was an invisible enemy he would have to fight.

  “Calm down, big guy!” Felicity rolled her eyes, then blushed a bright red. “I didn’t mean big like big down there,” her gaze dropped towards his cargo pants without meaning to, “even though I’m sure that your penis must be at least average-sized considering the size of your-”

  Oliver grabbed her shoulders before she could go on. 

  “Oh my God,” she squeaked and fell on his chest, “someone kill me now. Where is the damn league of assassins when you need them? Call Sara! I could use an assassin right about now.” She kept mumbling even though the sound was muffled because she was way too embarrassed to stop and apparently her brain to mouth filter was permanently broken. 

  Oliver’s hand was stroking her back softly, gentling her as he always did whenever she said something mortifying. He didn’t seem to mind that he was more often than not the focus of her inappropriate babbling. Most of the time he found it amusing and he never hesitated her to hold her. At least, he had never hesitated before Russia. These days they were overly polite and kept making sure no hands or arms or legs were ever close enough to touch. It brought tears to her eyes.

  “Hey,” he breathed.

  Felicity looked up at him biting her lip. “I’m sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

  She took a deep breath, inhaling soap, leather and something that was pure Oliver and stepped back. He let her go but one hand lingered on her shoulder.

  “So,” she pointed to the device on her workstation to shake some of the awkwardness, “I have a friend from college. The only one I’m still in contact with and every year we place a bet. We find a gadget, something that is not accessible to the public yet and we send it to each other. This year it was her turn and this thing is driving me crazy. I know it might seem silly to you but I can’t lose, I just can’t.”

  “What happens if you lose?”

She loved the fact that even though he was a tough, scary vigilante he never mocked her concerns or laughed at her.

  “I have to wear a Christmas headband. A red one. With reindeer antlers.” She shuddered at the thought. “And I don’t know if I told you but-”

  “You’re Jewish.”

  “Yeah, which makes it even worse somehow. Anyway,” she stopped abruptly and stared at him in surprise. “You remember that?”

  “I remember everything about you, Felicity.”

  Cursing herself for her inability to control the flush that spread on her face, she harrumphed and picked up the watch that wasn’t a watch.

  “Wanna help me figure out this thing?”

  It was an olive branch and he knew it so he smiled and stepped closer. Felicity wanted to giggle at the thought that Oliver Queen, the man who couldn’t figure out the apps on his brand new iPhone would be able to help her in this case. It would be akin to her trying next Wednesday to shoot the bad guy with a bow and arrow.

  “Why are you laughing?”

  “No reason. I just remembered something.”

  “Huh,” he replied frowning and turning the device upside down.

  “Careful with that. I don’t know what it does and I don’t think that Martina would ever purposely send anything dangerous but still…”

  “This was made by Kord Industries.”

  Felicity grabbed the watch and lifted it closer. “How do you know? The Kord Industries logo is distinctive and I don’t see it here.”

  He took her finger and stroked the metal. “Do you feel the carving? It’s a beetle. That’s Ted’s idea of a joke.”

  “I don’t get it.” Felicity didn’t like the things she didn’t understand. Mysteries needed to be solved.

Oliver ignored the question in her eyes. “Guess who owes me a favor?”

  “Mr. Kord himself?”

  He nodded and smiled like a kid at Disney store. His eyes were filled with excitement and something else. Pure pleasure. Solving this small mystery together, working as partners was important to him. Perhaps, more important than she had realized. For a moment, she could see the child he once was, mischievous and happy, causing trouble along with his best friend Tommy. It was so rare for the Oliver that she knew to show any kind of enthusiasm that she felt a painful pang in her heart. So, even though things were still complicated and she was by no means ready to forgive and forget, Felicity knew in her bones that they would get past this. One day.

[mergatroid-jones-blog]

Twin Mickey

(A short story)

* 1 *

I don't have a name. That's because there's nobody to give me one. There's nobody to call me by it either, due to the nature of my particular birth defect. I'm three eighths of one inch tall. Not only that, I don't have my own body. Not exactly. I live in my brother's head. We're twins I guess. Some kind of conjoined twins--only instead of being conjoined on the outside, I live inside his head. He doesn't know I exist. Nobody does.

For all I know I'm a very common medical phenomenon. Micky's never had a brain scan-- maybe I wouldn't even show up. That's my brother's name: Micky Van Buskirk. It's sort of my name too, since I don't have one. I stole a little piece of my brother's name. I steal a little piece of everything he has. I'm a parasite. That's what I've decided. Or maybe I'm cancer. I certainly don't do anything to help him. All I can do is sit around his head and complain. He can't hear me, no matter how loud I shout. You aren't designed to hear from the inside. I figured that out.

But that doesn't matter. I still scream about everything. What else do I have? It's like I'm chained to the floor in front of the worst TV show, and I can't reach the remote. Forever.  My brother really might be king of the idiots.  Like all the best idiots, he's just clever enough to convince himself that he's being awfully rational in any given situation. He's convinced himself that everything he's ever done was absolutely the only thing he could have done. He probably thinks he's had a really hard time of it. He hasn't.

I  know literally everything about him, but his motives are a mystery to me. Like when he stole Jacob Yockey's jacket in high school. It was sitting there, all lime green and fake-leather, and he just put it in his backpack like he'd been planning it all along. He didn't need the jacket, and he wasn't some kind of kleptomaniac. That was the only time he did something like that. He put it in the back of his closet and there it sat. He didn't wear it, and he didn't have anything against Jacob Yockey either. Jacob Yockey never hurt anybody. One day, Jacob mentioned that his jacket was lost, and my brother was there. Micky laughed, and he said “Soggy pickles.” What the hell is that??

That night,  he actually put the jacket on for the first and only time. He was still wet and naked from the shower.  He posed and made faces at himself for at least three minutes. My brother is barely five feet tall, quite fat, and covered in thick, curly, black hair. He's not physically attractive.   I heard Jacob Yockey lives in Toronto now, and he's gay and breeds expensive dogs. Good for Jacob Yockey I guess. He sure was funny looking in high school.

* 2 *

You would think that self-loathing and egotism would contradict one another, but they make surprisingly genial bedfellows. My brother will be convinced that he is worth less than the scum under a pretty girl's fingernail. Then in the same hour, he'll realize once again that the world is almost entirely  idiots, and that he miraculously isn't one. If they'd just ask the non-idiots, the world would get along better. Again, these sentiments seem like a contradiction, but my brother has never noticed the inconstancy. Most people don't seem to notice inconsistencies like that.

Perhaps they would notice if they spent a day as a pimple. That's how I think of myself: a brain-pimple. Like when you get a pimple on the inside of your nose, but deeper. My brother is always picking his nose, and he's not subtle about it. He used to eat his boogers, and he didn't stop until he was sixteen. He really is a disgusting shit. One time when we were about seven, he took off his pants, crawled under the  bed, and peed into the carpet. For no reason. What reason could he have possibly had? He just did it to test his body? To test the carpet? That carpet is still there by the way, and I doubt anybody has ever shampooed it. I  think I really hate him.

If I had to live in somebody's head, it didn't have to be such a boring nincompoop. Mickey Van Buskirk has never done anything I would care to watch. Weird stuff sure. Gross stuff, definitely. But nothing good. Once he spent a whole day sorta following around this old man who carried a trombone. I guess he thought the guy was a creep, but who's the creep when you're stalking some old guy all day? Weird stuff, he does. Gross stuff he does. I've seen him lick a banister after a pretty girl touched it at least nine different times. Nasty.

* 3 *

What a miserable little shit. Here's what happens every time: he gets a shitty job and he hates it. And he hates it more and more for a whole year. Then he throws a fit, quits, and gets a new shitty job. He's like clockwork. After high school, he told our mom he was going to be a pharmacist. Whatever happened to that? He was never going to be a pharmacist and he probably knew it. I'm sure Mom wasn't fooled. She's not stupid like Mickey.  

My brother has only ever had one girlfriend that lasted, and that's because she's an even bigger idiot than he is. Angela is her name. They've broken up four times. They broke up again last week.  He made out with her sister Kara. She did it to piss Angela off. He just did it because it was on offer. Fucking idiot. The thing was Angela wasn't actually all that mad about it. Kara was getting revenge for previous transgressions. But it brought up all this drama, and everybody hates each other now.

Good riddance.  I hope I never see those two again. Talk about entitled.  Not one of the three of them can form a cogent thought. Angela literally sets fires and puts them out for fun. But Mickey can't  find words to voice this legitimate concern other than “You're a psycho-bitch.” That doesn't tend to help. But who cares? She walked out and maybe it'll stick. Mickey got good and drunk after that. He got high on pills too. Good. I can share in that.  Then he looked at a bunch of “furry” porn. Disgusting. I really hate him.

* 4 *

He had hated his job at the print shop for almost a year, so I wasn't surprised when he threw a tantrum at work. My brother has always been able to throw a tantrum for what seems like no reason. I think he must plan it in advance. The printer was being crap, and Annie was blaming him for it as usual. So he started throwing boxes everywhere and screaming “It's fucking bullshit, and I can't fucking bullshit!” He said the word “bullshit” twenty-seven times in total. I counted. He ripped off his Clayborn Printing shirt, threw it at Annie, and walked out. She didn't say a word. I don't know if she was angry or amused. At least she had to deal with the printer herself. Horrible woman.

Then what did he do? He called Angela crying and babbling incomprehensibly. I was surprised she hung up on him. Good for her. Then his classic pity party. I've seen it a thousand times. He buys a fifth of Wild Turkey and gets some pills. Angela is kind of a pill head and he's kinda one too when he's with her. Then he rolls down the windows (even if it's winter) and blares Linkin Park at full volume all the way to Foy Point in the national forest. It's isolated. It's also incidentally where he lost his virginity to Sarah Spiller who later turned out to be somehow related to us. Good going.

He did what he normally does. He drank as much of the fifth as he physically could. He smoked every cigarette he had. He used his lighter to blow a fireball with the bourbon, then he threw the bottle (still one third full) into a tree. All that was normal. Then he went for the pills, and I noticed he had brought every bottle that Angela had stored at his house. Most of them were almost empty, but it was quite an array. He dumped them all out into a Halloween candy-pile on the picnic table. He was going to kill himself! I screamed at him “YES! Do it! Finally, I'm done with you! I'm fucking done, you piece of living shit-fucking shit!” I really was excited.

* 5 *

He looked at all the pills, and he shuffled them around. There would have been enough to kill ten Mickey Van Buskirks and a thousand brain-pimple brothers. Then he arranged them by color. Then he shuffled them again. Then he took a little yellow one. Then he took a handful. No good. He couldn't swallow them all. He didn't have any water, and the bourbon was all over a tree. He puked. Now there were two Halloween candy-piles.

Foy point overlooks a creek, and it's not all that far down if you go through the brambly parts. Mickey did. He really wanted to die. I was proud of him. He took a Styrofoam cup from  Frosty Time, and filled it in the creek. The brambles cut him up, but he was too drunk to care. He took two handfuls of random pills, and swallowed them with creek water. Then he screamed “I did it!”

He had. I've never wanted anything more than to die. I would have been jumping up and down if I had legs. But then, Mickey Van Buskirk had an attack of cowardice. He was too much of a coward  even to take the coward's way out. He clutched at his uvula for dear life, and life it gave him. He made himself puke. Then again. Then again. More candy-piles. It was horrible to watch. He was covered in it. If he had waited just five minutes, I bet he would have been too far gone. What a failure.

* 6 *

He woke up the next day, sunburned and thirsty. He was covered in little cuts, and vomit, and Wild Turkey. I woke up too. Alive. I really hate him. Before he drove home (well below the speed limit) he produced his pocket knife. It always makes a satisfying click when he takes out the blade. A lot of things were carved into the picnic table. A crude owl. A penis. A fancy heart. One message said “Be happy.” Another said “Smoke a fat blunt biotch 420!”  Another said ambiguously  “Is waterlogged and so am I.”

It was important for Mickey to carve something into that table. It must have been important for him to stare at it so long.  Something big had happened there, and he needed to commemorate it. He needed to write a message of his own: to speak and be heard. After at least three minutes of staring, he carved his statement on the table very large above the owl.  Here's what it says:

“Fuck”

[cleanedupkenny]

A List of Reasons Why I’m Sorry to Kota Ibushi (begun April 2015, ended January 2018)

Dear Diary,

Drama-Free 2019 can only press forward if I purge myself of all the drama, right?

So, after Invasion Attack 2015, when I did... that thing, I called Michael in kind of a... state. He suggested that I start this list and not show anyone (”anyone” meaning “just Bullet Club,” basically). I think mostly he was just sick of listening to me cry for three hours straight. But it helped. I think.

I’m hopped up on video games and energy drinks and not sleeping next to my Ibutan on the anniversary of our glorious reunion and I might regret this but you know what, I DON’T HAVE TO BE AFRAID OF THE BULLET CLUB ANYMORE AND I FEEL FREE, DAMN IT.

It’s a little hard to read from all the tear stains it’s gathered over the years, but Diary, here’s what I can make out:

Fuck fuck fuck I can’t believe I did that

Why did I do that I don’t even like AJ Styles like as a human being

I don’t even like bullets OR clubs what am I even doing [2019 note: there’s a little more here, completely smudged by tears]

Was any of that an actual apology... ooooops. Kota... I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I ruined that for you. I’m sorry you’re not champion right now. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m just so, so, so fucking sorry. I am going to regret that for the rest of my life, which is going to be miserable, and empty, and [2019 note: more tear stains]

Wait. What the fuck was I talking about? I’M NOT SORRY, I DON’T REGRET IT, AND I AM DEFINITELY NOT MISERABLE. I’m the reigning, defending IWGP junior heavyweight champion AND I’M A WAY BETTER ONE THAN YOU EVER WERE OR COULD HOPE TO BE! SO. THERE.

Oh, reading that back just now was... ehhhhh.

WHATEVER, it’s still true, and I will prove it against Kushida at Dominion! He’s just this Back to the Future fanboy, haha, can you imagine anything so dorky?

Now I’m trying to imagine explaining what Back to the Future is to you because you don’t watch movies and what your face would look like and now I’m sad again. Why are you like this? Why????

...aaaaaand I lost to Kushida.

I’m hiding in Matt and Nick’s hotel room to avoid having to tell the rest of Bullet Club that I just don’t like strip clubs and they’re not gonna make me feel better, okay, and why would that make me gay? I’m not even gay! I’m bisexual! Those are two different things!!!

I was tired and wound up just blurting to Tama “I’M NOT GAY” and then... didn’t follow that with anything. So now I’m a fucking coward, and he didn’t even look convinced anyway. I hate everything. Everything except the memory of when you’d let me lay my head in your lap and cry or sleep or just breathe or whatever while you’d twirl my hair around your fingers oh god fucking damn it [2019 note: you guessed it, more tear stains]

I beat Kushida! I’m definitely better than you again! And I’m about to celebrate by having sex with a woman that Tama picked up for me because he’s a great and thoughtful and caring friend!!!!

Um. She seemed nice. And didn’t even stay the night, just blew me a kiss and walked out. I feel weird. I’m gonna have to be way more enthusiastic about her to Tama. Shit.

Why can’t I just have casual sex like normal people do? Why??? On New Year’s this year I found the one other sober guy in all of Japan and was like, okay, this is fun, sex can just be fun, but it just felt like when you’re at the doctor’s testing your reflexes. That was like last night, too. But I couldn’t explain that to Tama, either, and he clearly didn’t buy my fake enthusiasm, so he definitely still just thinks I’m gay and that it needs to be corrected. I hate this. Is this title even fucking worth it? Remember the few times you’d top because you knew when I just needed all my feelings fucked out and afterwards you’d hold me while I cried? And it felt better than anything else in the world? How could I have ever let myself lose that? I’m gonna bring this back to its original purpose. I’m sorry I never realized how great I had it.

It... wasn’t all that great, now that I think about it.

When were you gonna tell me you were moving up to heavyweight?

I wouldn’t have stopped you. Did you think I was going to stop you? How could I? How could anyone stop YOU from doing literally anything at all, honestly?

I just... deserved a conversation. I was your partner. In more ways than one. You couldn’t give me that?

What did you want from me? Did you just like, want me to be your sidekick forever?

Did you... want me at all?

Or... was I just your tag team partner that you fucked sometimes?

[2019 note: wow, this was just a tissue, here]

Well, I lost to Kushida again. If you cared, I bet you’d be happy. Where the fuck did you go, anyway? Not that I care. Because from here on out, it’s my time. Shit’s about to happen. I have a fucking PLAN.

What’s the one thing better than kicking that bastard out of Bullet Club and taking his place as its leader?  Making my first order of business declaring that the Young Bucks and I are better than all of them, mwahahahaha. You should’ve seen Tama’s face. You could have. Seriously, where are you?

WHATEVER, I DON’T CARE, I AM WINNING CHAMPIONSHIPS AND BEATING YOUR GOD TANAHASHI AND THEN SINGING KATY PERRY TO CELEBRATE. FUCK YEAH.

...”research institute”??? Oh whatever I DON’T. CARE.

MY FIRST G1 AND I’M GONNA WIN, UNLIKE SOME PEOPLE. WINNING WINNING WINNING.

Hold the fuck up. WWE? You’re going to fucking WWE????!!!! What the fuck??????????? Is... is something actually wrong with you? Did you come back wrong? Who are you?

IT DOESN’T MATTER I’M DOING THE G1 LA LA LAAAAA

I WON THE G1 FIRST GAIJIN EVER and if I did it with your moves it’s to prove I’m better at them than you are and if I mentioned you in the press it was just to rub your face in it HA HA HA HAAAAAA!!!!!

And no one will ever tell me how to celebrate again, damn it. If I wanna eat ice cream with Matt and Nick damn it I’m gonna and the rest of them can just fuck off to their booze and their strippers and god knows what else! I maybe said that aloud to them. Because I fucking can!!!

Matt asked me if I was okay and said uh, yeah, I’m going to fucking Wrestle Kingdom to become the heavyweight champion, which YOU have have never done, why wouldn’t I be? And he was like, that’s just it, though, you keep talking about him. So I kind of stopped talking.

Remember how we used to celebrate? Not that I am. Not that it meant anything to you.

I’m gonna be generous and assume that you lost to TJ Perkins because you were so overwhelmingly impressed by my win. What has happened to you???

OMG I heard you’re not signing with WWE which... um... fine. That’s fine. Good career choice, that’s all.

You’re all over the place now. Except my place. Which is fine! I have Okada! Must focus!!

Uhhh. Turns out Okada is champion for a reason. Um. I need to rethink... everything. Yeah, I used one of your moves again. Whatever.

The fucking Bullet Club, I swear. “Kenny, come out with us, you’ll love these girls!” (NO.) “Kenny, why don’t you let anyone but Matt and Nick second you, what, are you playing favorites?” (Uh, duh!) “Kenny, did you really murder Adam Cole?” (...no comment.) “Kenny, what exactly is Cody Rhodes doing here?” (Being interesting, okay? He has potential. He seems like someone I’d actually get along with, too, unlike you pieces of shit.) I’m gonna hide with Matt and Nick some more. And Marty, he’s cool, even if he still checks out my junk when he thinks I’m not looking. And Cody, I guess.

I see you went viral for shooting fireworks onto yourself and then moonsaulting off a car. Pffftt. It’s like no one knows you. It’s WAY the fuck weirder that you went to WWE.

I hung out with Cody alone and wound up kissing him. I realized what a bad idea this was before it got any further (I legitimately forgot he was married for a second, where the fuck is my head at?), but going by the look on his face, there was... damage... done. So I ran. Like you ran, I imagine, once you realized how much I... loved you. I loved you.

I love you. Part of me always will. I want to be the part that doesn’t. I don’t think it’s working.

Cody almost ruined my rematch with Okada, like I ruined your match with AJ, so, yeah, I fucked up there. I’m still pissed, though. How were you not this pissed? I’m totally going to make him pay for this, how did you not do that to me? Did I want you to? Was that why I did it?

Well, I’m not sorry. Just like I’m not sorry for texting Brandi right now.

I ran in on Cody’s match with Okada and I keep thinking about that instead of the actual title I just won. I’m going to meet Brandi and I don’t know who I am anymore. This is starting to feel like a confessional. Well, it’s sure as fuck not, or ever going to be an apology, ever again.

Well, that was dumb. Brandi is terrifying. I couldn’t even get it up. Then she demanded to know what I did with Cody. She threatened to waterboard me. Do they still do that in America? Why am I asking you?

I’m so glad you’re never going to actually read this. [2019 note: DRAMA-FREE 2019, we believe in transparency this year, damn it!]

.........................................................................................

You’re back.

You’re not in my block.

I need you to make it to the finals.

I need to make it to the finals.

I need this. I need you to know how I felt. How I feel.

That’s all.

Wait... what happened? You... you’re out of the running.

You really never cared about me. That’s it. That proves it. Not me talking about you in the press endlessly and you not dignifying it with a response. You were never much of a talker. But... you couldn’t even wrestle the way I know you can, the way that should get you to WIN the fucking G1.

I get the message. Fine. Fuck you, too. I’m gonna keep doing what I’m good at - better at than you, that’s for sure: winning.

I pinned him. I pinned Okada. You couldn’t have ignored that. I made sure you didn’t. You like my gear, Ibutan? I’m gonna keep proving how much better I am than you when I wear to pin Naito tomorrow, too.

...........What.

What the fuck were you doing there?

What do you want from me?

Don’t you want to just fight me? I’m sure you think you can still beat me. I wanted to prove you wrong. Come on, goddamn it, make me prove you wrong.

Why did your hands have to feel like... your hands? They felt like... like... part of me. A part of me I lost somewhere.

Why does your voice have to be so soft? Why did you have to be so gentle? So tender? So... caring? You don’t give a shit about me, remember?

You don’t. You don’t care. You never cared.

Please don’t make me think you cared.

I actually got on the phone with Michael to pass along that last message. I don’t care how childish it was, I needed you to hear that one thing. His response was to ask me if I really believed that.

I can’t. I can’t not believe it.

I have a bad feeling about this thing with Cody, like it’s gonna get ugly. I told him to stay away from you, just in case. If nothing else, I’m still the leader of Bullet Club. They all recognize that! They’ll keep him in check against you, at least.

I just... don’t want him to mess with you. You don’t need to get mixed up in this. It’ll get ugly. Like I said. That’s all it is.

Oh, great, of course the second I have my back turned, he messes with you! What was I thinking, honestly? Motherfucker...

I want to tell you... be careful. He’s gonna bring Brandi, and they’re gonna cheat. Maybe I’ll tell Michael to tell you. You don’t know them. It’s only fair.

Or... he’s gonna... flirt with you? What the...?

I want to fucking slap him every time he touches you.

Please kick the shit out of him.

You Phoenix splashed the life out of him! I wish that was literal!!!!

When he said I don’t love you like he loves you... I...

How’s your English these days? Maybe you didn’t understand him! Anyway, New Year Dash tonight, and you’re stuck with him again. I’m... I’m sorry. I’m genuinely sorry, once more. I don’t care how bitter I am. He shouldn’t be your problem.

Well. Since I can’t hide behind trying to recruit Jay White or my triumph over Jericho here... people keep asking me why I stopped Cody, and honestly? I don’t even know why they’re asking. I didn’t even have to think. I just ran. So when someone asks, I just stare at them until they stop asking.

I hope you’re okay.

Jesus christ, they’re making you tag against Cody AGAIN? Him trying to maim you last time wasn’t enough?

I see he’s just doubling down on me supposedly not caring about you. He wishes. I don’t wish, though. Not anymore. Those years we were together were real, and they mattered, and I can’t just rip them out of me. I’d be ripping out my spine. My guts. Oh, fuck it. My heart. Anyway, as long as Cody keeps his hands off chairs, I think you can take care of yourself. You’re tough, and as far as what he’s saying goes, I don’t think anyone’s fooled anymore. If they ever were.

After I beat Jay... maybe you’d want a shot at this title. You deserve it. You deserve... something. You always did. I never wanted to stop you. I just wanted to talk. I could’ve talked. I know I could’ve tried. I wish I had. I’m really sorry I didn’t. I’m sorry it took me three years to come around to that. I’m sorry I can’t just tell you this right now. But I will. Eventually. It’s gonna be hard, but I’ll figure out how to do it. I just have to.

I can’t sleep. Not when I can watch you sleep for the first time in years. What a fucking day. What am I gonna do with this notebook, now? I apologized to your face. And you... you apologized too. I wanted to apologize for ever doubting you, but you knew, you knew why I did, and you said you were sorry. Oh, Kota... [2019 note: ah, there are the waterworks again!] I don’t know what’s next. I don’t know what we’re up against. I don’t know if you want to team with me again. I don’t know how much Matt and Nick are really on our side, although I hope they are. Losing them would be almost as bad as losing you, by now. I don’t know if I’ve got the Bullet Club, but I’m not gonna lie, that power doesn’t suck, and I’ll hang on to it as long as I can. What I do know, now, is that if someone forces me to choose, I’ll choose you, over anything. I love you, and you love me. I felt it so many times, when you chased them away, when you hugged me, when I was inside you... I feel it everywhere. I always did, I think. Maybe I’ll keep this notebook as a reminder of how not to be an idiot about it. Or at least as a reminder of how NOT to apologize to you, because a lot of this... eeesh.

I feel so cleansed, Diary. I wish I could hold @goldenxstar right now. At least, unlike four years ago, I’m confident that I will, soon enough.

xoxo,

Kenny

[veterveter]

Hi there, it's the anon who saw Gandía on the subway!

You're completely right, it had been kind of haunting me for days... My brain just travelled towards it every now and then, like "you saw Gandia in the subway, have fun dealing with that bout of knowledge". I'm glad you liked my trauma story!

Are you MAGIC? I truly am gay bike anon!!! I don't think I am why are annexes anon? But honestly, I am not sure, and I can have forgotten?? When I'll see the ask again, I'll probably know and I'll tell you whether that was me or not. I love how you realized it was me by the sheer weirdness of the asks, I love how my chaotic energy apparantly radiates even through the internet ehehehe

Your description of Gandia made me snort and then laugh so hard, I had to actually stifle my giggles so everyone in the train I was in whilst reading this wouldn't go "???" (I literally clasped my hand in front of my mouth, then realized how futile that was because of the face mask hahahaha)

So, I googled Promising Young Woman, and I directly knew who you meant, and he does look a lot like Moscow! Also, the movie looks great and I'm definitely going to watch it soon (after I finished my exams, or, y'know, to avoid having to study for those sksksk)

YOU'LL MAYBE WRITE ME A ANDRÉS X GANDÍA FIC??!!! AHHH I WOULD LOVE THAT!!!! I truly thought I was crazy when I realized that there was such weird energy between the two of them in that scene, with the way they were eyeing eachother, the way Gandía walked around Andrés, but turns out I'm not the only one who thought so :) And indeed, "gay bike anon" is not my birth given name, but I'll gladly take it as my second name/ as a nickname :)

Oh no! I hope you're okay and that you're not slowly melting away behind your computer... We've been having hot temperatures here as well, nothing close to a heatwave though, even if everyone acts like it is. (It has been around 26-27 degrees Celsius for a while, and everyone was going crazy about the national plan for heatwaves on Twitter...Like, no, just don't... For a nationality often portrayed as brutally honest and very matter-of-factly, we can get incredibly dramatic sometimes sksksk) It's colder now, though, we've had a few days with rain and now I think we're back to normal temperature for the time of the year.

I'll let you know! That is such a good idea, I'm going to practice Martín's speeches in the mirror right away, the eyepatch would make an interesting look... I'll wear my black suit and shirt with black brogues, my father probably has a dark gray tie which I can borrow. I'll just have to find a cane somewhere. Oh, and fill my bag with muffins. I'll practice my chaotic screaming (well, tbh I don't think much practice is necessary anymore) to channel my inner Martín. Maybe I'll even bring my Berlín funko pop, tell him "remember Alfredo Kesmann, you know, the risk analyst you looked at as if you were a lion and he was your prey, huh? Well, look at who he turned out to be..."

By the way, I just read you Little Mermaid AU and it was just so beautiful, so cute, whilst they still remained the assholes interesting characters they are <3 Martín thinking a fork looked like a weapon made me laugh so hard, because it definitely is a weapon to another version of Andrés sksks. Also, I was listening to MIKA on shuffle and when I was reading your Little Mermaid AU, 'Underwater' came on and ugh, the song was fitting so well for them, poetic cinema.

Gay bike anon ❤️❤️❤️ To quote some Motion City Soundtrack: It had to be you // I knew it was you. I'm happy you saw my stray ramblings @ you. Should you choose to continue talking to me (you should, I love you, gay bike anon, please continue to be my friend), I'll continue to tag them under # only love for gay bike anon. There, that is you.

I'll be surprised if you're not why are annexes anon [if you are a separate person, humble apologies, come @ me for my crimes] but I'm also going to gatekeep that ask for x number of weeks or months because prompts are hard to keep the mystery alive. I love how you say you'll maybe recognise it, if it is you. I also sometimes look at things I've said and I'm like "well it's my account so it must be me, but I could swear I am not me--" I'm so glad you're gay bike anon because it's literally your name now so if you weren't them??? It'd be like naming a child something peaceful and the child turns out to be everything but. Which almost happened to yours truly, I'll have you know. Dodge that bullet, I did. Also, if you were not gay bike anon, you'd be like "¿¿qué?? what does that even mean??". (I was so delighted by the ask that I sent a screenshot to my friend and since she didn't watch the semis, this was her reaction.) You have the perfect chaotic energy, dear friend. Recognisably so.

I love your phrasing, by the way. "My brain just travelled towards it every now and then". I can perfectly envision this scene, you're just trying to live your best life (travelling by the subway, buying cookies, that sort of thing) and your brain is just like hey guess what???? SUBWAY DRIVER GANDÍA!! thanks brain, that's nice, I guess. The plot twist is that now this story also lives rent-free in my head, but I truly do appreciate it. Thank you again for sharing it.

I'm glad you also feel me re: lawyer guy in Promising Young Woman!! I'll take all the reassurance I can get that I'm not simply too LCDP-obsessed. I really do recommend the film, it was really good and so nicely filmed. Her hairstyles? The outfits? The colours and the framing??? Gorgeous. Come @ me with your thoughts once you've seen it, please. ✨ Also, bestest of best luck for your exams!! I have all the faith in you. Do your best and reward yourself accordingly afterwards, the reward part very important! Maybe you can buy yourself a tricorne. This is foreshadowing for how you're going to be a pirate, by the end of this reply. And for the record, I'll consider myself prompted to write this subway driver! Gandía fic, and some day I will absolutely consider actually writing it. Just you wait.

We had like an entire week of 30+ degrees (and I'm from Finland, you know, so that's definitely illegal temperatures here) and it was just, ugh. But it was actually raining yesterday - I'm sure it started around the time you sent me this so I'll credit it to you, thank you for the rain, dear friend - bless!! everything was so dry. I'm glad to hear your temperatures are normalising too!! Climate change can go away, thanks.

I absolutely lost all coherent thought when you said "I'll practice my chaotic screaming" hgjrfkpfjeghr yes you do that, it sounds 100% legitimate. You'll make the perfect Martín, hanging out with your totally super platonic best friend in Funko pop form. Hissing at Gandía, should he come too close. Threatening him with the Funko. Leaning on your cane but like, menacingly. You might also need a Denver to lead you around, should the eyepatch impair you depth perception.

Also, after you've had all this practice with the eyepatch, you can become a pirate. Or a privateer, first, and then through a series of unfortunate events, you can be drawn to a life of crime. The money is just so much better. And guess what? Yeah, you bet the captain of the ship is the spitting image of Arturito. Good luck, you. :) At least you can mutiny.

Ahhh I'm glad you liked the Little Mermaid thing! Martín absolutely gets that the pointy thing look exactly like a weapon, even if he's not necessarily imagining Andrés to stab someone with it for insulting his clothes. You know, one of these days I was tagged in a tag thing and I mentioned about how much I currently love Underwater?? (mandatory shout-out to @es-imposible because I'm stealing her taste in music for my own) Manifestation. Or one brain energy. Poetic cinema.

I hope you'll have a great week, gay bike anon!! Take care of yourself!! Drink lots of water, eat lots of cookies, stay safe from Gandía / any lookalikes. Best of luck for your exams for a second time! All the best, dear friend. See you around! 💌

[embracetheapocalypsewithme]

Cursed Land, Part 2: September

This is the second part of a multi-chapter fic for @ladylorelitanyfanfiction‘s / @ladylorelitany’s Monster Mash challenge. Part one is here:

Part 1: The Black Box

Part 3: The Call of the Void

Part 4: The Abyss

Summary: Rebecca begins to read Negan’s private journals from his first few days on the road after the world ended. What could have happened to him while he was wandering to make him so fearful of a certain part of the region in the northeast that he won’t even mention it? Perhaps the journals will reveal more of his past...

Word Count: 3,354

Warnings: Language, horror, and (hopefully) this is legitimately frightening.

Part 2: September

September 7

Writing this in a nice, fresh fucking notebook, like it’s the first day of school or something. Shit. Maybe it would have been the first day of school today if the world hadn’t ended, huh?

I don’t even really know why I’m writing this shit, or who I’m writing it for. I’ll probably be one of those dead fucks soon enough, wandering around trying to take off people’s faces. I guess I just want to keep track of the days. Today was the end of the first day on the road, and it’ll be hard to keep track of time without some kind of log.

I couldn’t stay in that house alone anymore. Too many memories for me there. The road is more dangerous, for sure, but it’s also new and open. I feel like I can breathe again out here.

But I’m lonely.

Dead fuck sightings: 25.

September 10

Wandered for the last few days. Finally made it out of the city this morning. No more tall buildings. Now there’s just suburbs, parks, and McMansions all around me. Fucking ugly ass, overpriced shit architecture…Lucille hated that shit just as much as I do.

Fuck I miss her a lot. It’s hard to think about her too much. Fucking fuck this sucks.

Camped out in the middle of a playground. Feels wrong to light a campfire here, but fuck it. Not like there are any kiddies around to burn their little hands in it or something. No homeowner’s association to bitch me out for it either. Ha! Bet those prissy fucks died on day one of this shit. Who’s laughing now, Mr. McMansion Motherfucker!

Dead fuck sightings: 12

September 12

The suburbs are getting decidedly less suburb-y. The houses are further and further apart, and are either big and expensive-looking, or run down little shacks. Looks like I’m starting to hit the rural areas. That’s probably not a bad thing since less people = less dead fucks coming at me.

At least, that’s what I fucking hope!

I guess a bunch of them could form some kind of roving mob ‘o’ flesh-eaters and swarm onto the road at any minute. Wouldn’t that be a fucking fun way to go? At least they’d probably tear me apart so that I wouldn’t come back as one of them. Maybe.

Dead fuck sightings: 9

September 15

Yep. I fucking knew it. I’m in the woods now. The houses are basically miles apart and most of them are really fucking shitty looking. There are thick-ass woods everywhere and let me fucking tell ya: they’re spooky as fuck.

Less walkers around here though. So, I guess I’ll take spooky woods over actual danger.

I’ve always been bad with directions, but I think I’m headed north east. There’s really no rhyme or reason to my wandering; I’m just trying to stay the hell away from the cities. They’re fucked.

It does get kind of lonely at night, and I hope that I meet an actual living fucker here soon. Could use the company.

Dead fuck sightings: 5

September 17

Someone’s following me.

They think that I can’t tell, but I can totally fucking tell. I may look big and stupid, but whoever-the-fuck is a really shitty stalker. I mean, at least try to cover up the sound of your footsteps, right?

I can almost feel them watching me right now while I write this over the fire. I don’t know why they don’t just approach me. Better not mean me any harm because I will sure as shit put a stop to that ASAP.

And, yeah, I just heard a twig snap behind me. Fuck fuck fuck.

Write write write…just a big dumb fuck pretending to write his fucking journal. Blah blah blah. Come get some you stupid fuck. I fucking dare ya!

Dead fuck sightings: 3

Creepy stalker sightings: 0, but I know you’re there motherfucker!

September 18

Creepy fucking stalker made contact this afternoon. 

Turns out, creepy fucking stalker is a not-too-bad looking woman who’s scouting for a group a few days from here. She goes out looking for other survivors while the rest stay in a little place in the woods. Doesn’t seem super fair to let her go out all alone, but maybe everyone else is feeble and would only slow her down?

We’re heading back to her camp now. We should be there soon. Maybe my luck has finally turned around! I could use a fucking break and some company. If we can fortify the place and start growing food, maybe we can all get through this. There’s safety in numbers and in time we can start rebuilding a little.

Fuck, I wouldn’t mind trying to repopulate the world with my new companion. She’s looking not too bad sitting across the fire right now…

Dead fuck sightings: 1, but it was mostly harmless, so does that count?

September 19

My former stalker’s name is Gail, by the way. We’ve been getting to know each other during the trip back to her camp. Not like that…well, not yet anyway…

Any-fucking-way, Gail says that she’s originally from a small town not too far away from this camp she’s in now. Evidently, the place is a ghost town called Falling Creek that she used to visit for kicks as a teenager in the “before times”

(Doesn’t that just sound so fucking dramatic? Before Times? But, I guess the situation is a tad fucking dramatic, after all).

The place was abandoned way back in the early 1940s. Like, the town was bustling one day and then winter came and by the next spring everyone just kind of fucked off. She says that there are a lot of creepy stories about why everyone left, but what good ghost town doesn’t have spooky stories about it?

The place probably just lost their source of income and everyone decided to go to greener pastures or whatever the fuck.

Anyway, Gail and her group decided that it would work well as a base because no people = no one to get infected and try to eat you. I like the way she thinks.

Seems to be working out too because we haven’t seen any deadies in days. Oddly enough, I can still smell them though. It seems like that dead body smell just follows us everywhere we go. Maybe it’s all in my head…some kind of PTSD maybe? I just wish my symptoms weren’t so fucking gross.

The weirdest part is that Gail says she can smell it too. Here’s hoping that the camp has cleaner air than these woods. We should be there tomorrow if we keep making good time.

Dead fuck sightings: 0

September 20

Fuck yeah, motherfucker! We are at the camp now! 

Just arrived this afternoon, and the folks waiting around here seem pretty relieved to see Gail. I’m relieved to see a goddamn bed, even if it is pretty vintage and crawling with dust mites.

(Don’t think about the dust mites, Negan. It’s better than whatever crawls around you all night when you sleep in the woods anyway…)

So, these are the folks here at the camp with me:

Gail: Of course, my lady stalker. Really nice, no-nonsense kind of a gal. Saved my ass from probably starving to death in the woods. Gail’s pretty fucking cool, if you ask me. Nice butt too. (I’ll stop now…)

Max: One of Gail’s neighbour’s kids…well, former neighbour.  Poor kid’s mom got eaten and Gail took him with her. Cute kid. Thinks he’s tough, but he can’t be more than 50lbs soaking wet.

David: Another neighbour of Gail’s. Dude had a pretty good gun stash (because that’s how small town folk do, I guess?), so when shit went real sideways, Gail hauled ass to his place with Max in her pickup. After a few days she and David decided to jump back into the truck with his boom-sticks and they came to Falling Creek to get away from the hustle and bustle of the metropolis of Maple Pass. (just kidding…who the fuck has ever heard of that place?) I high-key think he wants to fuck Gail. But then again, who doesn’t? (I lied about stopping.)

Alan: David and Gail picked him up on their way to Falling Creek. He was just walking along like I was, minding his own business. Must have seemed harmless enough. He’s a quiet guy. Hard to tell how old he is – got one of those faces where he could be 28 or 48 and both would make sense. Says he’s half Native American on his mom’s side. Spent time all over the place and never really settled down until things got all weird with the dead rising and stuff. Guess that’s as good enough an excuse as any to stay put for a while.

Mary: Teenage girl they found in the woods a few weeks ago during one of Gail’s expeditions. She doesn’t really talk. Like, at all. Poor thing is totally fucked up and traumatized by whatever it is she saw before Gail found her. She just kind of walks around like one of those dead fucks most of the time. I don’t even want to think about what she witnessed to make her like that. Truth be told, she kind of gives me the creeps, but I’m trying to at least talk to her (…at her?) ...Maybe eventually she’ll snap out of it.

Speaking of creepy, Falling Creek is pretty eerie in and of itself. Gail says that she used to come here with her friends to drink and fuck as a teenager. Seems legitimate to me. The place is 100% deserted, and nature has started to take it all back. Everything’s crumbling and overgrown with weeds. It’d be the perfect place for kids to come and be sure no one else would follow them.

Who the fuck would come here otherwise?

Dead fuck sightings: 0

September 25

Missed a few days of writing. Just trying to get used to being around people again, I guess. It’s weird to have someone to talk to…

Gail is great at conversation. She’s just so warm and nice. Like a pair of fucking undies fresh out of the dryer cradling my balls. Soothing. Maybe this is the start of something good for us?

It’s fucking hard to talk sometimes and be open with people again. I was never really good at it. Even with Lucille. Sometimes I wonder if I made her worse in the end. She spent every day trying to bust down my defenses, and what the fuck did she get for it? Cancer!

I know that’s not how cancer works, but there are moments when you have to wonder if things could have been different.

Dead fuck sightings: 0 (ghost towns for the fucking win!)

September 27

Gail wants to go out on another of her expeditions. I told her that there was no way I would let her go out there alone, but she shot that right the fuck down. Says I’m too big and noisy and that she can sneak around a lot better alone. Makes sense, but I am 100% still not keen on the idea.

No one else seems to share my trepidation though, so I guess I should have more faith in the lady. She knows these woods pretty well and she can handle herself. Not like there are any dead fucks in the woods around here anyway.

(Side note: That’s a little weird, isn’t it? I know that this place is a ghost town, but you’d think that at least a few would wander in from the surrounding communities…)

I guess I’ll just twiddle my fucking thumbs and wait for her to come back. She leaves tomorrow morning…

Dead fuck sightings: 0

Found written on the back of the previous entry’s page in Negan’s handwriting:

The weeds will take it back. Nature will always take it back.

Everything goes down to dust in the end.

Ashes. Ashes.

Now all fall down.

September 29

Went to write today and found the fucking poetry or whatever the fuck written on the back of the last entry. It’s in my handwriting, but I don’t remember writing that at all.

Do people sleep-write like they sleep-walk? Is this some kind of weird trauma thing?

Whatever. It’s fucking weird. Not surprising though, given the circumstances.

Gail has been gone for a couple of days. She’s due back tomorrow, and I think I’ll feel a lot less stressed once she’s here again. She’d better show up because I don’t want to go skulking through the woods for her if she doesn’t. They’re fucking spooky as shit at night. And dark.

Alan and I have been getting along well. He’s telling me all kind of fun facts about the area. Old stories passed down from his grandmother about the place. Some Native American legends and stuff mixed in. Real interesting stuff.

Makes the time pass faster anyway.

“Life is very long…” Who wrote that. Was that T.S. Eliot? In The Wasteland? Or The Hollow Men? Maybe it was Oscar Wilde? Who the fuck knows anymore!

Dead fuck sightings: 0 (surprise, surprise!)

October 1

Last night was super fucking weird. And, to be clear, I mean super fucking weird in a world that is already really fucked. So that must tell you about the level of fuckedupedness that went down. I’m trying to think of where to even start with this and it’s hard to pinpoint.

I guess the first thing was that Mary started whistling.

It was just around sundown when I noticed it. Kind of a faint and soft sound; it was a melody I didn’t recognize, but it was the first real noise I have ever heard her make, so I thought it was pretty fucking cool.

I walked outside of the main building and saw her sitting on a bench beside the doorway, just whistling away. She was looking into the woods, which were already dark as fuck by this point. I sat down next to her on the bench and just listened to the sound.

It was kind of fucking pretty.

It was around this time that I noticed that the dead body smell had come back.

Less pretty.

I wanted to quiet her down since sound seems to draw them to us, but by this point Max had come out and sat down on her other side. I didn’t want to be a dick and discourage the poor thing from making noise, so I just kept an eye out for anything unusual.

After a few minutes David joins us and starts asking Mary about the song. Stuff like, “What is that you’re whistling?” and “Where did you learn to do that? It’s awful nice!” Of course, she doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even really acknowledge any of us being there. Just keeps on fucking whistling to herself.

Her eyes were just staring out into the tree-line. It was almost like she was looking for something. Maybe she was trying to call one of the deadies to us for shits and giggles?

Mary ends the song, but holds the last note for a long time. It’s high-pitched and almost hurts my ears just thinking about it. Like a tea-kettle that’s boiled and waiting for someone to finally take it off the burner. The sound just keeps going and going. It seems like forever, and I’m honestly getting a little fucking weird-ed out. I swear she never even blinked or took a breath the whole time.

All of a sudden the door slams open and there’s Alan looking like he’s seen a fucking ghost or something. He runs up to Mary and before I can stop him he’s shaking her and telling her to stop. He’s not mad…just like, panicked? He’s got a hand over her mouth by the time I get up and drag him off.

Mary stops and just looks up at him with these big, brown eyes. It’s almost like she didn’t know what she was doing, or didn’t remember. The girl looked genuinely confused as shit.

Alan apologizes to her, and then says something like: “You can never whistle like that at night. Do you understand? It calls them to you. Please, never do that again, Mary.”

She nods like she understands and just gets up and goes back into the building. Everyone kind of starts to move away from Alan except for me. I sit back down on the bench and he does the same.

We sit in silence for a few minutes just looking out at the trees that surround the town. Eventually I say, “Do you really think that whistling draws the dead fucks to us? I mean, I haven’t seen any of them since I got here. It’s actually a bit weird.”

He answers, “It is weird, isn’t it? No dead things around, but you can smell the death, can’t you?”

“Yeah. Honestly, I was starting to think it was all in my head. Real fucking relieved that you can smell it too, buddy.”

“I don’t know if that’s cause for relief or concern, to tell you the truth,” he mumbles to himself.

“What do you mean?”

“I’d better not talk about it. It’s something that...” he trailed off like he was trying to find the right words to explain, “In my grandmother’s culture, there were things that you just don’t talk about. You don’t even think about them. They’re that powerful. Things that live in the woods. Things that can be called to people who seek them out without realizing, until it’s too late and they’ve laid their own trap. Whether through greed, or curiosity, or just plain old bad luck.”

“You talking about fucking ghosts or some shit, Alan? I don’t really believe in this kind of supernatural shit, you know.”

He looked at me, “Yeah, well…in a world where the dead walk, who’s to say that ghosts aren’t real. And for the record: No. Not ghosts. Ghosts would be infinitely better than what I’m thinking of right now.”

At this point I’m getting exasperated with the guy. I mean, if you’re scared of some shit just say it. Don’t play coy with this “Oh it must not be named aloud!” bullshit. I was about to call him out on this when the bushes to our right started to rustle.

Look, I’m a big fucking guy and I can hold my own in a fight, but I’m not too big to admit that I just about shit myself when that happened. I think that feeling was mutual for Alan because we both got up real fast and spun around to see what was making the noise.

It was Gail. Of course it was. In all of the weirdness of the evening I almost forgot that she was due back that afternoon. She grinned at us and her face was cast in an orange glow from the setting sun. She looked tired and a little worried, but hot as fuck in that moment.

“Hey fellas!” she called out at us, waving, “Sorry to startle you. And sorry for being late. Had a little bit of a hold up in the woods. Got turned around for a couple of hours.”

This actually made my heart skip a beat. I mean, I’m not in love with the lady, but she did save my ass and I feel like I at least owe her one. The idea of her lost out there alone really fucking freaks me out. Especially since she knows these woods so well.

After a few minutes of me playing the concerned guy who needs to know “How did this happen?” and “How can this never fucking happen again?!” she calmed me down and we all went back inside for some food and more conversation.

Here’s hoping that she at least takes someone with her next time she’s out there.

Dead fuck sightings: 0, but at this point I’d welcome them over weird whistling girls and Alan’s creepy bullshit.

[unbreakablerelationship]

Fanfiction: The Pocky Game (Bakushima)

Chapter 1: The Party

Rate: T+

Plot: Kirishima accidentally kisses Bakugou at a party and now Bakugou has to decide if he liked it. 

Genre: Romance, Action, Drama 

There was nothing more annoying to Katsuki than tonight’s plans. After losing a bet with Yaoyorozu, he has no choice but to go to a party tonight. He wasn’t the party type and wanted to keep his cool edge, but  that wasn’t the case. After was selecting a regular orange flannel to match his white t-shirt and cargo pants, he grabbed his phone, and bolted for the door.

The crisp fall air gave Katsuki a comforting touch to the nose. As he stood in the middle of the road, he contemplated on the amount of worth this party was for him. He could come up with a dumb ass excuse to say why he didn’t need to go. However, his ego couldn’t bare to imagine hearing the words of his classmates mocking him. Bakugou clearly chickened out. What a total jack ass, thinks he’s so cool that he can get away with anything. That wouldn’t be very manly of him. It pissed him the fuck off. So he quickly strolled down the street with his hands tucked in his pocket.

“Yo, Katsuki-san!” Shouted a familiar voice. “Ready to party?”

Katsuki paused before turning to glance at his classmate and friend, Kirishima Eijirou. He sported a muscle shirt with tight jeans and a scarf around his neck. His friend didn’t look half bad but he wouldn’t admit that. Eijirou looked more excited than ever with a grin as wide as the horizon and undulated movements.

“Hair-for-brains.” Katsuki responded.

Kirishima responded, “Mineta’s parties are always the best! Don’t sweat it. It’ll really be a party once you show up!”

“Shut up.” Katsuki replied before proceeding down the street. Eijirou followed after him like a puppy.

Mineta’s parties had always seemed to have a new story behind each one. Something new or interesting apparently happened every year. This party is very popular since it’s the last night everyone will be living home because tomorrow everyone will move into Yuusei’s Dormitories. Everyone was going to be there, even Katsuki. He could tell Eijirou was trying to enthrall him into the party but he wasn’t in the fucking mood. Far from it. He can’t believe he lost that bet. He would just show up and leave ten minutes later as planned.

“I hear the music from here!” Eijirou exclaimed and sped towards Mineta’s house.

It was a large modern home at the corner of the street. Although it’s pretty calm on the outside, he could hear music buzzing on the inside. Eijirou knocked on the door as Katsuki watched reluctantly. Tsuyu answered the door and immediately invited them in. The party was similar to a movie with roaring music, people dancing, socializing, and of course--red cups. Alcohol. How fucking cliche. People maneuvered around each other and brushed passed while others danced the night away. But Katsuki practically bumped and shoved his way through to a more open area of the home. It was a skinny hallway situated between kitchen and living room.

“Whoa, Katsuki actually made it guys!” Yaoyorozu jeered. “You’re not a punk after all!” “Fuck you, I came because I’m a man of my damn word.” Katsuki spat.

Eijirou responded, “A man of his word is a man in my heart.”

Eijirou’s admiration made Katsuki’s heart leap for a moment. He didn’t mind his praise yet it drew his attention tonight. It must have been this stupid party make him sentimental or whatever.

“KACCHAN!” Deku called. “Kacchan, Kacchan is here, can you believe it, Iida?”

Katsuki turned his direction to the sound of Deku’s call. His skin was as red as Eijirou’s hair. His eyes were wide with wonder and his stance was staggered. Deku was drunk.

“Can’t hold your liquor, huh, Deku?” Katsuki laughed. “What a bitch!” Deku slurred, “I-I don’t understand..why you’re mean to me...do you like me Kacchan? Is that it?”

Everyone froze in their place from Deku’s sudden claim. This angered Katsuki, how dare Deku make him look like a fool? He didn’t like Deku at all; in fact, he was Deku’s rival! Not to mention, love made people weak. He was going to be the greatest hero of them all so he wasn’t worried about gooey shit like that.

Katsuki growled, “The fuck did you just say to me?”

Iida interrupted, “I think it’s time for our fellow classmate to get rest!”

Iida shoved Deku down a path of people but it didn’t calm Katsuki’s furious rage.

“Can you believe that fucking shit-headed idiot? The hell do I look like?” He growled.

Eijirou explained, “He’s intoxicated, what do you expect? Only a man can hold his liquor.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

His friend took a step back from Katsuki, he knew giving him room was the best option right now. In fact, a few people backed away from him and gave him off looks during his frivolous outrage. The blonde could feel his balled fists sizzling as he grew tense. His classmates noticed too and immediately grabbed for cups. Katsuki had to lighten up and alcohol was one way to do so, or so they thought.

Once Yaoyorozu finished mixing a drinks, she handed them to Mineta who refused to hand the angry teen the drink. They insisted it be Eijirou but Tsuyu figured it would be better for her to hand him the drink since she was the calmest.

“Hold it, hot head.” Tsuyu insisted.

Katsuki responded, “The fuck do you want?” “Will you take a break?” She coaxed. “This drink will cool your jets.” “I don’t want fucking alcohol.”

“Be a man, Katsuki-san.” Eijirou begged. “Why not show everyone how much better you are at holding your liquor than Midoriya! I’ll have a few cups myself.”

That hurt his ego. He obliged before even considering what sort of alcohol was even in the drink. He gulped it down without it touching his tongue like he remembered reading online. Everyone cheered when he finished and urged him to continue but he didn’t agree. The first cup was full and he was feeling a little dizzy. But he felt powerful and better since that damn Deku scrub couldn’t hold his. He could handle his liquor better than his rival and had just proven it.

“Katsuki-san, you alright, man?” Eijirou asked as he held his friend’s shoulders.

“Fuck off, hair for brains. I’m perf.” Katsuk answered.

Just before Eijirou was going to ask if he needed help sitting, they were invited by some classmates outside for air. He thought that would be better than being surrounded by all the noise and people.

“I can walk for my fucking self!” Katsuki roared.

“You’re right. Sorry.”

Once they were outside, there was a lovely patio full of luscious flowers and chairs. His classmates sat in a circle with chairs and Katsuki slammed into one of them. Partially because he was tipsy and partially out of toughness. The people sitting in the circle included: Jirou, Kaminari, Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, and Eijirou. It was a surprise to see Todoroki there but Katsuki didn’t care.

“I’m here for Yaoyorozu. As you can see, she’s the life of the party.” Todoroki explained since his presence awed all his mates.

Yaoyorozu replied, “I sure as hell am, Mineta needed help with the party and insisted I help host. So to continue this party, how’s about a game?” “I’m not playin’ any shit games with you losers.” Katsuki responded.

Everyone grimaced and booed at him with distaste. Katsuki always ruined the mood with attitudes but he legitimately didn’t want to play. He wanted to sit and get rid of this shaky feeling. So everyone ignored him and continued with their conversation.

Yaoyorozu continued, “It’s the pocky game!”

She took out the box of chocolate pretzel sticks and a long empty alcohol glass bottle. The rules of the game were whomever the bottle was positioned at is the ones who would eat the pocky from either end of the stick. Everyone in the circle agreed to the rules, even Todoroki. Which was out of character and made Katsuki suspicious. Why would he want to play such a childish, hormonal game?

“Well, let’s get this started!” Eijirou rejoiced. “Ladies, our lips could be sealed!” Since Eijirou was so entertained, Yaoyorozu decided he go first. He spun the bottle quickly and it eased to a slowing stop. Everyone gasped. It landed on Katsuki Bakugou.