#if scratch had a bug. you were just fuck it and found 30 ways around it

[florshedworf]

i totally get the frustration at the wording of certain words/certain things being banned etc but i want you to laugh at it for once. artfight isn’t a big corpo with hundreds if not thousands of paid employees. a majority of the staff is volunteers. and also. isn’t is somewhat hilarious that prescribed/unspecified drugs are banned but weed/smoking/etc are not. like we live in some sort of fucked up parallel universe where prescribed drugs are solely for pleasure and hard drugs are meant to treat disease. is that not at least a LITTLE funny

[senyuuno]

Bloomed Color: Oikawa Torū

A/N: Yaku's fic is here. 

          Tsukishima is here. 

           Osamu’s here.

  Enjoy reading.

Y/FF- Your favorite flower

---

Being called by Oikawa at the back of the gym seems like a dream for his fans. However, is it even possible that you are in front of him now?

"Yahoo, YN-chan!" He beamed a smile at you. Your eyebrows shot up.

"Yes, you called for me?" You asked and he chuckled. You refrain yourself not to smile at his sudden reaction.

"Do you need me for something, Oikawa-san?" You seriously asked him. Well, you are a student council member and you just excused your self for a bit because it's a special request from Oikawa.

He stopped chuckling and gave you another smile-"This is hard," he sighed.

"Okay. I...like you, " he almost whispered looking away from you. Stunned, you do not know how to answer.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I like you." He stared at you. Your mouth agape- Wait. It's impossible right? Is he playing with me? Yes. After all, the Great King is popular with girls and he wasn't able to find a girlfriend so that's why he's trying to get you. Thoughts like that flooded your mind.

"Oikawa-san, I know that you're busy with volleyball and you must be frustrated, however I don't have time to play with you," you said and gave him a little bow.

"I'm not playing though. " You looked upwards to him.

It stung your heart when you saw his hurt expression. It was just for a moment until he scratched his nape-"So?"

Your throat begins to burn. Now what? You do know that he's lying. Then, you felt it. The feeling of your head almost spinning, a little taste of blood after gulping and the soft petal of sakura inside your throat.

"Sorry. Please excuse-" you did not finished your sentence and rushed to the comfort room.

Inside, you keep coughing until three petals was coming out. You stared at your handkerchief already stained. Three minutes had passed and you bitterly smiled. See? He did not even come to check up on you.

Yes. You are in love with that popular guy. It started when you saw him training alone during the first half of your third year, after that, you attended all of his matches. However, having such kind of illness makes you clutch your heart. When you found out about it, you were happy at first, until you realised that you got no chance to him that's why you chose to hide it.

And just a while ago, he joked about liking you.

"Seriously? How shitty of you, Oikawa-san." You bit your lip and tilt your head upwards in order for you not to cry.

The next day.

"Is Y/N-chan here?" Your eyes went round when you see Oikawa standing in front of your classroom's door as girls started to circle around him, giving him snacks and bentos.

He just gave them a smile and when he spotted you, he raised his hands up and waved at you-"Y/N-chan~". You immediately received glared from the girls and questioning looks.

That is when Iwaizumi came and smack his head-"You're in the way, crapykawa."

"That hurts, Iwa-chan," he pouted.

After Iwaizumi gave you little greetings, he went inside the classroom as Oikawa trailed at the back of him. The girls started to rumble and still try to get his attention when Iwa gave them-"The fuck's with this annoying crowd?" In an instant, the girls went to their seats still stealing glances to this beautiful setter who's infront of you now.

"Ne, ne, you left me yesterday. Something came up?" His voice whispered.

"Ah, yes. I'm sorry about that," you gave him an apologetic look.

He placed his hand on your desk and had his other hand on his chin. Shit, that face. An amusing smile drawn to his face.

"I'm not pushing you but would you date me?" Again, he whispered. Only the two of you is capable of hearing it. You gave him a puzzled look-"I already gave my answer yesterday." With you answer, he sighed.

"Y/N-chan, I..."

"Oye. The teacher will be here soon," Iwaizumi stated, urging Oikawa to get back to his classroom.

The next days...

"Y/N-chan, good morning!"

"Have lunch with me?"

"Y/N-chan, watch me play today!"

"Let's get some soda during break."

And today...

"Won't your answer change?" He asked you while you are organizing the files for the sports festival that will be held next week.

"No." You answered, trying to keep your self busy. His presence is enough to disturb you. See, your heart's beating fast.

"Why?"

"I told you to stop playing already."

"I'm not playing."

"Yeah yeah." You just hummed.

"Y/N, I like you. "

"Please stop." You gave him a stern reaction and turned your back at him. Again, you left him there.

When you're far enough, you looked back to see if he went out with you. You firmly hold the files when no one's coming out.

"See? You're just toying with me." You whispered in thin air.

Three days had passed since your last talk with Oikawa, since then, you haven't been bugged nor seen him inside the school campus. This day, it was unusual for Iwaizumi to be late.

The teacher and Iwa was outside and it seems that they were having a serious conversation. You thought that Iwa was coming in but after bowing to the teacher and meets your eye, he walks away.

Does it have something to do with Oikawa?

After your class, you went to the student council meeting when-"Have you heard?"

"Yeah. Was he injured? I heard from Iwaizumi that Oikawa-kun won't be participating in the sports fest."

[7:30, evening. Chi*ka Hospital]

"Have you decided on the Doctor's proposal?"

"Iwa-chan, I'm happy that you got to stay by my side at the very end. This is bad, I want to cry badly but it's unmanly." A slight laugh covered the whole room.

"Tell the club that I'll miss them-Ouch! You're hurting me more than I am already!" Iwaizumi cuts him by smacking his head again.

"Don't say it in the way you're like dying, bastard!" He threw the paperbag to the bed where Oikawa's currently lying.

"From the team, " Iwa uttered as he took a seat.

"Oh, do they know?" Said Oikawa who started to drink the lemonade inside the paper bag.

"Only the four of us know."

"Thinking you're so popular but the only girl you liked rejected you. Hah, being weak, huh?"

"Stop it! Why are you rubbing it always on my face?"

"Shithead. If you confessed your feelings during our second year, then it must not have come to this. You, catching hanahaki is almost impossible. Tch." A long line coming from Iwaizumi.

"But I thought that it was nothing at first! And confessing is hard, you know?" He pouted.

"You really are a trash. Annoying."

"You see, I thought Y/N-chan liked me back. I got ahead of myself when I think I got a chance since I always saw her at our every match and her hot glances towards me."

"Pervert."

"Wan'na here something more perverted? The first time I got to look at Y/N-chan closer and when she congratulated me, I went home as fast as possible to-"

"That's disgusting! Don't continue or I'll kill you before you die." Iwa warned him, throwing eye-daggers to Oikawa.

"Tee-hee~"

Iwa released a long sigh-"When are you coming to school?"

"Eh? We're not talking about volleyball?"

"Shit! You really piss me off! I'm going home!" Iwa stands up and grab his bag.

"Already? I'll be lonely." He whined.

After opening the door, Iwa glanced at Oikawa-"That Y/FF, throw it all up until it's gone. And don't die, Oikawa. "

You froze up when Iwa said those lines. Yes. You were there the whole time. Of course, you came together with Iwaizumi when you said tou wanted to visit him, since you thought that he was really injured, but he told you to wait for a bit as they started their conversation.

His tall height looms in front of you, an eye contact with Oikawa's childhood best friend. You were clutching your throat when he speak up again.

"I agreed for you to come visit him since the both of you are pure idiots. I cant stand seeing the both of you not expressing your true feelings and stagnant. And you don't have to be afraid, he...likes you so much it's annoying that he skipped practice ro confess ro you. " Iwa muttered. There's no more secrets. Oikawa's hanahaki disease that he's been enduring for almost two whole years and yours for barely 5 months.

"The color of that flower inside you, it was his favorite."

"T-Thank you, Iwaizumi-kun."

He averted his gaze-"Now go inside. He'll really die if you don't see him soon." Even though its just meant to be a joke, you clutch your chest.

You relaxed yourself before opening the door.

"Did you forget some-" as he turns to your direction whom he thought was his bestfriend.

His eyes went round after seeing you again-"Y/N?"

You went closer to him-directly at his bed. No more holding back, no more shyness, no more secrets. You just let it all out-hugged him tight while burrowing your head at his chest.

"E-eh? W-wait, Y-Y/N. This is..."

"Can I hear it one more time? Please?"

"W-what is it?"

"Your feelings?" You felt him tense up at your request.

"I like the girl who gave me another inspiration not to quit volleyball, the one one who congratulated me during our match with the monkeys, her name is Y/N. I like you, Y/N." You hugged him tighter, feeling your chest wells up in happiness.

"I like you too. Sorry for pushing you." You whispered.

You were about to let go when you felt him pulled you closer, his arms encircling your uncomfortable form as you heard small sobs.

"Really?" His voice hitched.

"Yes. "

"No turning back? You're mine now?" It was as if he can't believe it, after all the pursuing he's done with you.

"Mhm." You answered.

"Y/N-chan, you're serious?"

It's funny to think that it has reverted. It seems like he can't believe your words as you were to him at first. The flowers that slowly filling his lungs, almost suffocating him, and yours that just started to be one-slowly vanishing.

Oikawa clutched his abdomen, still having you in his arms. He felt it.

"Oikawa-san, are you okay? " You forced yourself to pull away as you noticed his actions.

"Is it still there?" You asked him concerned. You held his hands-"Should I call the doctor?"

His eyes fixated on you, gaze following your whole movements.

"Tell me I'm not dreaming." You stopped on your tracks upon hearing him, and smiled afterwards.

"Oikawa-san, can I kiss you?" You said closing the gap between the both of you .

"French?" You widen your eyes and due to shock you accidentally hit his abdomen making him groan.

"Is that something you'd do after confessing?"

"You...you..." You can't continue those lines with that reddish face.

***END

[eyezari]

math tutor (tsukki x f!reader)

you’ve been annoying tsukishima to be your math tutor considering he was the top student and he keeps rejecting you,, one day you finally give up and ask the second top student for help and he clearly was not happy about it

consider this!!!

→ gender-neutral y/n!  

→ little angst.... if you squint..

→ possessive tsukki?? is this even a warning

→ not punctuated correctly

“just this one question? surely...!” you plead, holding tightly onto your textbook. you were so close to failing this semester and you really needed your average to be lifted through the upcoming exams. when everyone thought it was the easiest subject, you found it the most difficult. 

so you’re back again, the next day. tsukki was used to you coming up to him every lesson to ask for help,, in fact its been going on since the beginning of the year. and he never helped. not once. 

you don’t know why you kept coming back and begging him when you knew damn well he was gonna give you the same harsh answer. he would say things like, ‘are you dumb? of course not.’ or ‘not in a million years.’ and his personal favourite, ‘please come back during business hours.” (you still don’t know when that is)

yamaguchi, who sat next to him looked at you two amused. “please! this is probably the most difficult one yet. khan academy didn’t help. i’ve tried everything.” tsukishima didn’t even bat an eye, he didn’t even spare a glance and his head down onto his page. you sigh. 

“y/n, who do you take me for?” he finally said and you sigh again. you were seriously lost and the math teacher is always out of the room doing whatever. the revision notes, you just didn’t understand. and your friends just gave you shallow explanations. 

the reason why you went to him in the first place is when you overheard him teaching another girl in class. she didn’t understand anything but it’s like he adapted her learning method and explained it to her like it was the easiest thing in the world. after that, that girl never failed to get good grades. ‘why doesn’t he wanna teach me?.. it’s just one question..’ you thought. 

to be honest, your heart would just ache whenever you thought about it. he decided to help someone else and they passed the whole year but couldn’t give you a single answer. you groan, scratching your head when you read the question again. then you turned to hinata, “hey, tsukishima has helped you guys out before right?”

“tsukishima? yeah but he gave up after and refused to teach us anymore, lol.” he smiles at you before going back to playing with his volleyball keychain. oh. so it was really just you who he refused to help. maybe it’s because you’re not close? no, you’ve known each other for quite sometime.. as.. friends. wait, no.. acquaintances? your jaw dropped as you realised, ‘does he not even think of me as a friend......bruh..’ 

you shook your head and just kept doing the rest of the practice test, skipping questions that you were unsure of.

the next week after you marked your practice test; you realised you were still way behind. you barely passed half of it, with an underwhelming score of 30 out of 58. you still didn’t understand most of it. not even photomath explained well. you sneak a peek at tsukki’s paper... 58 out of 58.. huh. interesting. he recently went on a training camp for volleyball club and still managed to study well. you stood up to stand in front of his desk which was next to yours. 

“tsukki.” you try and get his attention, but with his headphones on his head, it might be difficult. you repeated his name several times, nervously fidgeting with your fingers. you noticed he was in a sort of sour mood after his volleyball training camp and you couldn’t help but to feel bad you were disturbing him. 

with a scowl on his face, he removes his headphones. “what now?”

you became even more nervous now that his attention was on you. “um, can i just ask how you did the quadratic relations part.. i just don’t quite understand.” you said quietly. 

he only glared at you. “y/n, you must be fucking with me.” he said suddenly, catching you off guard. “how many times do i have to say no? it’s been too long. don’t you know how to give up? you’re so annoying honestly, get it through your brain. i’ll never teach you anything” those words hit you like a truck. especially because they came from tsukki. 

tears stung at your eyes and honestly, you were at a loss for words. you wanted to apologise and explain yourself but you couldn’t. a thought went through your head, ‘maybe it is annoying to constantly ask him for help..’ 

you muttered a “sorry” before quickly returning to your seat, not to mention that yamaguchi was quite shocked too and gave you an apologetic smile. you felt extremely embarrassed he just said that in front of the whole class. a few minutes later, you excused yourself from class and ran to the bathroom just to fix yourself up. somehow, you were choking on your tears.

it really shouldn’t have hurt you this much, but knowing you made tsukki dislike you even more just hit a different nerve. 

the next few days, you’ve been trying hard. but clearly not hard enough since you are still barely passing the revision. you were extremely disappointed in yourself since you did make an effort to learn but it simply wasn’t enough. you really wanted to apologise to tsukki but knew it would make things worse so you didn’t even try to talk to him. but you were hopeless, you just needed the explanation to the topic because you didn’t have anyone around you to ask. 

then you had an idea... the second top student named saiki came back from his trip. surely he’d help you just a little bit. you glance to your right, to where his desk was. and he did attend school! working up the courage to ask him, you turned to him. “welcome back.” and he smiled at you, waving at you. 

“how are your studies?” he said, resting his head on his palm. 

you groaned, “bad. i am literally hopeless at this. do you mind just explaining the parabola thing? i just don’t get it.” this caught the attention of many people around you. especially tsukki. your classmates suddenly thought it was weird you weren’t bugging tsukishima, maybe you have finally learnt your lesson. 

yamaguchi’s ears perked up as well, and suddenly everyone was lowkey trying to listen. “yeah!” and you smiled brightly. saiki moves his desk to get closer to you and he starts explaining the problem. at first it was confusing, but he tried to dumb it down for you as much as possible. you were seriously grateful because you understood most of it.

“thank you so much, jesus christ.” you sighed in relief. “so it opens downwards and the directrix is 2?” 

“yup. good job.” he pats you on the head. you smiled back. 

“wrong.” someone called out randomly, and you turned to your left to see it was tsukishima. “it’s 4.” he looked displeased. extremely.

saiki looked lost. “hm, i wonder where i made the error. do you mind explaning it to me then?” he asks tsukki.

his face darkened. “i do mind,,” and saiki just smiled awkwardly.

“y/n, it’s been a couple weeks. i’ll teach myself and i’ll get back to you later. is that fine with you?” saiki offered, returning his desk to the original position.

“yeah, thank you.” you grinned. you turned to your left again and saw tsukishima basically frowning.

why is he so rude today? what’s going on? is he okay? your head fills with random thoughts as you worry about him. 

the lesson seemed to go for hours and the heavy atmosphere between the two of you grew and it was excruciating. when you were finally dismissed, you had to stay back to clean the classroom. but you didn’t expect tsukki and yamaguchi to stay back too, considering they have club activities.

“hey yamaguchi, don’t you guys have club activities?” 

“yeah, we do but tsukki is on class duty. i’m about to leave soon.” he said sheepishly, grabbing his bag. 

so coincidentally you were on class duty with tsukishima. out of all days, you sighed heavily. 

you two were left in the class and he didn’t hesitate to start moving the desks. but you stood still, and stared at him. he was so pretty. 

heat rose to your cheeks as you recollected your thoughts and started packing up. it was an awkward silence as you two tidied the room. you were in the middle of wiping the board when he suddenly said, “open your textbook.” 

you were taken back. “what?” 

“you heard me.” he said bluntly. “open your textbook.”

“but why?” you stuttered a little bit.

“do you want me to teach you or not?” 

your face flushed. teach you? your mind blanked. “hnnn...” you couldn’t form coherent sentences “yes.. please.” 

he began to tutor you the study material. tsukki was obviously frustrated trying to teach you. it was like teaching a cat how to do dog tricks after all. you scratched your head at one question, still not getting it. 

you pursed your lips. it’s been 10 minutes and you’re not past the first half of the question. tsukki groans. “what you do is..” he explained it perfectly. but it went straight through your ears. you were too busy staring at his features, he was so close to you. 

this was the first time you realised how hard you fell for him, and tears pricked your eyes as your cheeks began to turn red. holy shit. i really like him. but chances are, i’m just a nobody to him. 

“y/n. are you even paying attention? this is why i didn’t wanna teach you.” he pinched his nose in stress. your heart sank. you didn’t want to inconvenience him any further.

“we can stop now, it’s getting late and you still have club activities right? i can buy you snacks tomorrow. thank you tsukishima.” you said with a sheepish smile. 

he furrowed his eyebrows. you just used his real name and not his nickname. he just found it odd how you wanted to stop so soon. you started packing up your things.

“it’s not even past 5. you need to learn this chapter.” he said abruptly. 

you stood up and grabbed your bag. “no, no seriously, it’s okay. i’ll just study tomorrow and-”

he grabbed your wrist and pulled you down. “and let you talk to saiki? no thanks.”

you were speechless once again, face red once more. “only i can teach you. understand?” he looks at you right in the eyes and all you wanted to do in that moment was to disappear. reluctantly, you nod. 

‎ ‏ ‐ ‑ ‒ – — ―

you can clearly tell my language is eu/au LMFAOO its the ‘surely’ for me GUYS COMMENT PLS ! I NEED INTERACTIONS 

[randomoranges]

a bit nsfw for discussions about sex - or lack thereof haha

rock band au part 30

It was the start of the third week of lockdown and Edward, somehow, was slowly getting used to Étienne’s presence around the house. He was surprisingly easy to get along with and they were learning to navigate around each other. It was still – a little too polite and awkward for Edward’s liking, but he supposed it was better than being at wits end with Étienne and regretting having him over.

 At the time being, Étienne had gone out for a walk of his own and so Edward had the house to himself for a rare moment. It was almost weird to think that this no longer was his norm and with so much time at home, he seriously needed to make himself a list of things to do, before he became completely bored.

 The list was put off for a while longer, when his phone rang, and he saw that it was his sister calling. He settled on his couch and accepted the call, glad for the distraction.

 “So, have you gone completely bat shit insane yet?” Edith asked as a form of greeting.

 Edward rolled his eyes, not even surprised, “Not exactly – keeping – busy,” He said, even if it was a different kind of it.

 “Decided to remodel the kitchen after all?”

 “No – I might just if this goes on, but – well, I may have found myself with a roommate.” He said, cautious, not wanting to make a big deal out of it.

 Edith was silent for a moment, “How the hell did you manage a roommate during a Global Pandemic?”

 “Well – he’s a friend – he needed a place to stay – and I wasn’t going to let him live on the streets!” He could just imagine the headlines now; famous Canadian musician – darling prince of music of Québec, found homeless on the streets of Edmonton. No. He couldn’t let that happen.

 “That’s – awfully generous of you. Anyone I know?” She sounded skeptical and he couldn’t say he blamed her.

 Edward was very glad his sister hadn’t yet hopped on the whole Zoom bandwagon and hadn’t asked for a video chat. She would have never let him live the sudden tomato-soup look of his face.

 “Sort of?”

 “Tell. Edward tell!” She demanded, suddenly excited at the prospect of hot gossip.

 Edward looked at his ceiling and wondered why he’d even told his sister any of this. She didn’t need to know, but – then again, part of him had been itching to share the fact that Étienne M Maisonneuve was rooming with him. This wasn’t an everyday thing, after all.

 “Remember Les Maisonneuves?”

 Edith was silent for a moment, “Who?”

 “The band I really like,” He said, exasperated.

 “Oh – yeah, your merry group of nobodies. Yeah, what about them?”

 For her information, they were not a merry group of nobodies. They were gaining traction and had even been nominated for a few awards after their last album had come out – thank you very much.

 “Well – one of the members – he was in town and got stuck – so – yeah, he’s here.”

 “Oh, I see.” Edith told him flatly and for one brief, glorious moment, Edward dared to hope that it was the end of this conversation. “Wait – is it the one you fucked?”

 “Edith!” He near shouted, sputtering, appalled, and embarrassed all at once.

 “Oh my God, it IS!” She sounded way too gleeful about this.

 Edward tried to form an answer, but the only things that came out of his mouth were series of incomprehensible sounds that did nothing to convince his sister otherwise.

 “So that’s why you haven’t gone off the deep end with cabin fever – you’re having the gay sex.”

 “Good Christ, Edith! Don’t be crass.” He could feel his face heat up even more. It was one thing discussing sex with a partner, another when his sister made a joke of it. Or reminded him that he was not, in fact, “having the gay sex” and that he would have very much liked to have “the gay sex.”

 “Well – you’re both guys. You’ve fucked each other. Call a boot a boot.”

 “I’m going to hang up.”

 “Oh – hang on – wow, so do you realise that if I hadn’t insisted and threatened you to go to the stupid concert and live a little you would not even be in this situation at the moment. Like you wouldn’t even be getting pandemic laid. You better fucking thank me.”

 “For the love of – we’re not fucking! There is no pandemic gay sex!” He yelled, unable to handle anymore of this. It was a really good thing Étienne was out at the current moment. It would have been even more mortifying otherwise.

 “Wait – you’re telling me you’re actually living some shitty porno plotline and somehow or other you’re not taking advantage of it? How much do you actually hate your life, Edward?”

 “It’s not that!” He defended. “I’m very much well aware of the situation and the – opportunity – but, I’m not just gonna pounce on the guy either. I have class. I’m not that desperate. Plus – I don’t want him to think I’m some weird fetish groupie or something. It’s strange enough we even slept together once – let alone on multiple occasions. Like – the fact that we met because I had a VIP ticket sounds fucking strange on itself. I don’t want to make it weirder.”

 “But you want to.” She stated simply and obviously. “Have the gay sex with him,” She clarified, as if it was really necessary.

 “I’m not stupid, Edith. Sure, it would be great. Yes, I would like to. But – he hasn’t – exactly – made a move either!”

 “What is this? The eighteenth century? You don’t have to court or wait for him to drop his hanky for you. Just talk to him, good God – it’s a miracle you even got each other naked once.”

 “Please stop talking.” He bemoaned.

 “Edward – do me a favour; stop living like an ostrich and live a little.”

 “It’s a Global Pandemic, or did you forget?”

 “I have not, thanks – but please stop being a sad mop.”

 “Fine, but keep out of my business and my sex life!”

 “Fine – but you’re missing an opportunity.” She practically sing-songed and Edward had heard enough. Had been put through the ringer enough. He didn’t need his younger sister to give him “relationship advice.” He was a grown assed man. He would – figure it out on his own.

 “If I tell you I’ll talk it over with Étienne, will you leave me alone?”

 “Only until I remember to bug you about it next time.”

 “How bored are you if you’re that invested in my life, all of a sudden?”

 “For your information, I am living my best quarantine life, thank you very much. You’re the one who brought your boy toy up.”

 “I did not!” He yelled, “And he is not my boy toy!”

 “Maybe we should have a little family Zoom next time – you could introduce me to him.”

 “I swear, I will hang up for real this time!” He said, even though they both knew he most likely wouldn’t.

 “Well, lucky for you, you won’t have to – I gotta run anyways – bye!” She cheerfully hung up and Edward flopped back on his couch, winded and exhausted. He really did need to talk with Étienne. If anything he could – let him know that – if ever he had an itch he needed to scratch – no, that sounded lame. How the hell was he even supposed to tell his celebrity-crush-turned-pseudo-friend-and-roommate that he very much wanted to sleep with him again? And then – how awkward would it be if Étienne had moved on? Obviously, Edward would respect that, but – he didn’t want things to be weird, considering they were living together and had nowhere else to really go to.

 This would be a problem for a different day – his head hurt and he’d given it enough thought for the day.

--

PREVIOUS: XXIX

CURRENT: XXX

NEXT: XXXI

[slash-em-up]

War of the Neighbors pt. 4: The Collector x Reader

Here’s your Valentine’s Day special!! I hope you’re all spending today with your loved one, or treating yourself extra nice!!

This is nowhere near as edited as it probably should be, so please excuse any errors.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

———————————————————————

Asa strode into the main lab promptly at 7:30 AM.

Several of the interns liked to joke that you could set your watch by Dr. Emorys schedule, and they were not at all wrong.

He’d walk in carrying his satchel and a cup of black coffee, pass by the security desk and and other fellows or interns trying to get an early start on their projects – barely sparing them a glance - then close the door to his office and do… whatever it was that Dr. Emory did.

The interns suspected he had some kind of Frankenstein-esq bug hybrid in there that was going to break out and wreak havoc.

His fellow doctors and professors just thought he was a major tool who had a god-complex and like to occasionally pop his head out and make them all look like idiots.

One was more correct than the other; but neither was too far off.

Today… people were staring.

And giggling.

Asa’s steps slowed just the smallest bit as his jet eyes flicked quickly from person to person, trying to sort out why they were paying him extra attention this morning.

His brow furrowed as he opened his office door and stepped inside.

It looked like a Valentine’s Day-themed bomb had gone off in the small room.

Everything wall to wall was covered in red, pink, and white hearts; boxes of various candies and cookies were stacked on his desk, and every inch spare inch of space – even the scratched tile floor – was covered with dozens upon dozens of roses.

Asa blinked.

“Oh Dr. Emory, that’s so sweet! We didn’t know you were seeing anyone!”

The grey-haired department secretary had sidled up to Asa and had clasped her hands in front of her bosom – eyes wide and bright at the veritable monument to the most ‘romantic’ of holidays.

Before Asa could reply, she was already shuffling past him, grabbing the white card conspicuously placed in an obscenely large arrangement of red roses.

She smiled broadly as she opened up the envelope and started to read.

“My darling Asa, Hang in there, buddy. We’ll find someone next year. Stay positive! Here’s looking forward to finally using all that lube for something other than car maintenance. Love, Asa”

The silence that echoed across the lab was awkward in the extreme.

Asa could feel his face heating and before anyone could say anything (or his damn blush got worse), he snatched the card away from the wide-eyed secretary and slammed his office door in her face.

Leaning against the closed door, the large man rubbed his eyes under his glasses, already feeling a migraine starting to form.

The bright colors lit up the normally staid and subtle décor of the room. Asa groaned in annoyance as he surveyed the mess. His attention turned to the small slip of paper grasped tightly in his hand and he quickly looked it over…

No other names, all typed, generic stock paper… Fuck, that wasn’t helpful.

Tossing the card into the waste basket, Asa gingerly stepped through the detritus - avoiding a pyramid of sprinkle-covered bonbons as he made his way to the desk.

Stopping at each bouquet, he aggressively snatched the attached note; becoming progressively more and more angry as he read the printed cards.

“Sweet Asa, you make me tingle all over, I don’t know what I’d do without you. <3 “Little Asa”

“Doctor Emory, thank you for being our #1 subscriber! You’ve singlehandedly kept us in business. - BustyBabes.com”

“Doctor Emory, we’re sorry to inform you that your order of our book ‘500 Sexy Feet for the Single Man’ has been delayed. Thank you for your patience and have a lovely Valentines Day. - Feet Fetish Forum”

“Asa, you’re the love of my life. Never change, my handsome man! - Love, Mom”

Taking a deep, calming breath Asa carefully and methodically ripped the offending pieces of paper into tiny shreds.

He could feel the predatory sensation that always preceded a hunt swell in the back of his mind. He was going to find whomever did this and destroy them.

Grabbing at a pile of boxes, he began rummaging through the labels, the wrapping, even the damn bows – looking for anything familiar or that might give some indication as to who really sent them.

When the third stack of Godiva chocolate truffles began to lean a bit too precariously, Asa was close to giving up.

He gazed despondently around the room, looking for any clue he could sink his teeth into…

… wait…

He moved quickly over to a plate of prettily wrapped cookies with a unique, but cheaply printed bakery label…

This looked familiar.

Where had he…

Oh.

The pieces began to fall into place as he recognized the logo on the label as the same one he’d seen on his neighbors business license.

You’d done this.

His mind raced with next steps and cold, rage-filled thoughts as he held the plate of cookies in his hands.

A loud pounding on the door shook him from his plotting; only to freeze him entirely as a loud, male voice shouted:

“ASA EMORY, THIS IS THE POLICE!”

Asa stiffened, ready to run.

How had they found him?!

The voice rang out again.

“COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!”

Shit, shit, shit, shit…

“YOU’RE UNDER ARREST FOR BEING TOO SEXY!”

He most definitely did not scramble – he moved with purpose – towards the entrance; twisting the lock quickly as heavy electro-beats began to pulse through the door accompanied by a chorus of feminine screams.

Fuck.

———————————————————————

The glass of champagne you were sipping on was getting tepid.

It wasn’t particularly unusual for you to be alone on Valentine’s Day; but at the very least in years past you’d had close friends nearby to keep each-other company during your ‘Singles Awareness Celebration’.

But moving to a new town to start your business had taken you away from all that – and you were feeling the absence.

You were trying to take your mind off of it by working through a few cookie recipes that had been giving you trouble. No one wants to eat a crunchy macaron….

A knock on your door pulled you from your contemplation.

Your brow furrowed as you glanced at the clock. It was nearly 10 PM, who in the world would be knocking now?

Shuffling across the room, you wiped your hands on your pants and slowly approached the door.

Pulling at the heavy oak, you froze as soon as you saw who was standing in your entryway.

Asa Emory looked ominous in the shadows cast by your porch light. He had clearly just come from his work, as he was still sporting a button-down and sweater vest combo… his tie and hair looked like they had gone through the ringer.

His hands were clenched around the platter you’d had delivered to his office early this morning – the logo for your shop prominently displayed.

You stared at each other for a few moments, neither saying anything.

Grinning a bit under his angry glare, you finally broke the silence.

“Sooo… what did you think of the cookies?”

[cassiecasyl]

hey, mr. stargazer

prompts used:

Whumptober Day 10: Blood Loss + Day 25: “I think I’ll just collapse right here, thanks” + Day 30: Wound Reveal

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Warnings: Self-Harm, Relapsing, Depression, Blood

Title taken from Straight Razor by Matt Maeson

Read on Ao3

His fists clenched and unclenched, hands anxiously and erratically moving. He shook his head, eyes wide and close to tears, so scared. No. He couldn’t… A shiver worked through his body, and demons picked up the melody of the wind to sing. It was storming in New York City, just as it was in Peter’s head. His gasping breaths joined the thunder in the texture of the dark clouds.

He couldn’t disappoint them like that. Though, they wouldn’t ever have to find out. The guilt would be all his, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, would it? Fingers grazed over scarred skin, first gently, then digging into it and scratching. In shock, he stopped, holding his trembling hand away from his thigh.

It wasn’t fair. How he didn’t fit, no one wanted him, he didn’t belong. I don’t fit, I don’t fit, I don’t fit. It was his personal mantra, repeated endlessly in moments like these. He was a cracked puzzle piece, never to click in again. The desperate urge underneath his fingertips only grew with every shallow breath stumbling out his mouth, but he didn’t want to relapse, did he? They’d never find out though. 

What was the point in staying clean when nobody gave a shit? Being clean was the norm. He didn’t fit. He’d gone months without a blade against his skin, at least by his own hand, but it was not like anyone congratulated him on trying, or succeeding. It was just expected. 

Frustrated, Peter briefly closed his eyes, letting tears escape. It was the middle of night, and he should be sleeping if he wanted to have any change at having a clear mind the next day. He was lost in his mind’s maze, spiralling down forever, no end in sight. Whenever he calmed down, the thoughts returned, and he was thrown in for another round. Groaning exasperatedly, he buried his face against his fists. He had to sleep, but at this rate he’d never get to.

Tears blurred his room, adding to the shadows. The razor blades in their little box on his desk taunted him with their siren’s call and fucked up promises. Peter was scared as he hesitantly reached out to grab them, contemplating it. 

~~~

“Peter, you seem to be injured. Should I call Mr. Stark?” Karen quipped up right as he stepped into the suit. Peter flinched at the reminder of last night’s deeds, and how they weren’t healing like they’re supposed to. It was worrying, to be honest. 

“No, Karen, it’s alright,” he assured her before climbing out of his window. 

It was a quiet night. The streets were still cold and wet from the storm, and though the city had quickly found its groove again, it seemed somewhat slow. Maybe, it was him, he thought then as he watched the masses come out of the underground station. A weight had been pulling him down all day, draining and exhausting him. It was his guilt, he presumed, or just a bad day. Nothing he couldn’t make up for by patrolling.

A cry for help awoke him, and he quickly swung down towards it. Just as he landed, the criminal looked up from where he was holding a knife threateningly at another guy. The victim ran as soon as he had the chance, and the thug gnarled. “Look what you’ve done, Bug-Boy! This was a perfect steal, and you had to ruin it. But that’s just what you do, isn't it? Ruin things.” 

Peter almost found himself nodding, but then deflected: “I’m not the one with the knife threatening innocent people here.” 

He went in to attack, shooting a web towards his arm which he quickly dodged. The man only laughed. “That’s my job, dipshit.” 

“Yeah, well, my job’s to catch criminals like you.” Spider-Man webbed up his arm, but the thug’s knife easily cut through it, and then only halted as it sliced deeply into Peter’s arm. He jumped back in surprise. 

“What? Are you scared already? You’re gonna cry for mommy to come get you?” He mocked Peter, stepping ever closer, holding out his knife. Peter watched him, observed his movement, his confidence in his weapon. He was nothing without that knife. 

“‘Course not!” He dropped and kicked his opponent’s feet from under him, taking him down and quickly securing the weapon. Then, he webbed up the man to the ground. “Who’s scared? Not me!” Without further ado, Peter left the crime scene. 

Pain steered through his arm as he swung, and Peter grinded his teeth together to stay in the moment. Tears blurred his vision that was decorated by little blotches. They distressed him, always dancing around, never on the same spot. Like a single pixel within TV static, he was unable to catch them. Peter almost face-planted into a building as Karen pulled him out of his thoughts. 

“Peter, you are in need of immediate medical attention. I advise against straining your arm further,” she informed him, and Peter shot out a web last minute to deviate his course from the building in front of him. “I have notified Mr. Stark.” 

Panic swept him over, infecting his mind and breath. “No!” He settled on a destination, a roof to land on, while he scrambled through mudded thoughts. “Don’t tell him, please, Karen!” 

“I am required to notify Mr. Stark should you need help. I’m sorry, Peter.” 

With the slightest contact to the ground, Peter’s feet slide out under him. Instinctively, he balled up and rolled over the gravel some dumbhead had decided to spread over the roof of this particular apartment building. “Fudge,” he swore, laying there, looking up at the dusking sky. No stars to see. 

His ankle throbbed slightly, adding to the pain, but Peter ignored it. Laying here, he felt strangely calm, and still so, so tired. Maybe, he could just close his eyes and drift away, then he wouldn’t have to face Mr. Stark. He could just forget about the guilt still sitting in his bones, and the confession that was sure to come. 

The cold from the stones underneath seeped into Peter’s body, sending shivers through him, and starkly contrasting with the warm blood flowing out his right arm. It was a weird sensation, and he blinked dazedly as a headache built behind his brows. “I wish there were stars,” he whispered, searching the darkening sky. 

His eyes were slowly falling shut, and Peter was ready to succumb to sleep, as Karen announced: “Incoming call from Tony Stark.” It made him jump, and filled his limbs with the energy of a thousand ants running around nervously. Peter hated it. He just wanted to sleep, was that too much to ask? 

“Hey, Peter, I’m on my way,” Mr. Stark greeted and Peter focused on the familiar sound of the thrusters in the background. It was calming, soothing, and lulling him back to where he wanted to be. “Just hang in there. How’re you feeling? Peter?” 

Peter hadn’t realized that he had needed a minute to answer. “Tired,” he provided, longing in the word. “I wanna go to sleep.” 

“Pete, listen to me. It’s important you stay awake, alright? Can you do that for me?” Peter hummed, wanting to close his eyes just for a brief second. Just a little bit. “How about you tell me what happened, hm?” 

He hadn’t expected the tears. The harsh memory of what he’s done, and the guilt which let him to be careless. He hadn’t paid enough attention. It was his fault he was laying here. Peter didn’t like how strangely okay he was with it, but he didn’t want to hurt Mr. Stark. I already did, he remembered then, choking on the shame and digging his fingers into his thigh. 

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed. 

“It’s okay, buddy,” Tony answered, “It’s gonna be alright. No need to apologize.” 

“I’m sorry,” Peter repeated. “I-,” he started, but the weight caught his tongue. He couldn’t. “I relapsed.” 

“Oh, Pete.” Metal arms wrapped around him, but somehow, they weren’t as cold as the ground. There was shock in his voice, and so much worry and hurt, and Peter knew it hadn’t been worth it. It never was. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Sh, it’s alright. You told me, and I’m proud of you for that, Pete. And next time, just remember our promise, alright?” 

“But-” 

“I don’t care what time it is. If you need to talk, I’m here.” Peter nodded, wide-eyed and crying. His eyes stared through him, having a glassy tint to them, reminding him of the impending threat that Peter’s injury was. “I suppose that’s from that criminal Karen told me about though?” he asked, pointing at the deep gash on his right forearm, trying to remain calm. But Peter only answered with another nod unlike his usually talkative self. Tony wrapped some cloth around the bleeding wound before he picked up his protegee with shaking hands. As he did so, Peter’s head lulled against his shoulder, sending further panic through his veins. Later, people wondered about the flash of red in the sky that night.

Tag List: @starrynightdeancas

[everosfics]

At last I can breath

Warning: several bad words

A/N : so this took forever🙂 Sory about that. You ever have it all written but there’s this chunk you know you need but don’t know how to put it there well that was like two parts of this chapter, so enjoy what I have come up with. See you next chapter.

Ch.2 A year of transition

Lila POV

“Finally that bitch is done, won’t even look at me, sure I lost a few battles like when I lost Agrest but no mater there’s bigger and better out there. So What, one person won’t make my tower crumble and a small crack is just a minor distraction.

So long as Dupain-Cheng only has her little blondes to back her up it’ll be fine.”

Mari POV

It’s been about a year now since Lila’s return and while she has been a pan in my side and a huge agitator, I really don’t think she has been the hardest part of my life. God just saying that makes me feel horribly stressed, like oh yeah it’s junior year college scouts, senior class study abroad program planing, Akuma fights, all on top of a pathological Liar who has it out for me. Oh well I’m so fucking tired right now it’s been such an emotional year from the struggle to get use to Lila, to realizing that there’s only a few people out there that I can really trust. Thank god for Chlo without her I don’t think I would have made it through all that’s happened this year.

“Hey Mari were all going to go work on the ideas for the fundraiser are you coming.”

“Yeah I’m coming, can’t wait to see what each class is thinking about doing.”

***

Last year in the bathroom

“ Dupain-Cheng what the fucking hell was that. Who the hell does she think she is. I swear this is ridiculous.”

“Chloe what do you want.”

“From you nothing , from that sleaze ball an explanation on who the hell she thinks she is it’s not like you have done anything to her other than question her story.”

“I’m fine Chloe there’s nothing you can do, and why are you trying to help me anyway”

“Ugh. Dupa-, Marinette I may not show it but I am extremely thankful to everything that you have done for me, my family, and my reputation here at school. You have helped me in so many small ways and actually seeing what I was like, is a punch to the stomach. So I’m sorry and I hope I can make it up to you some way.”

“Huh huh huh *gasp* Chloe, I got here as fast as I could Mrs Bustier didn’t want to let me out with so many students already out of class.” *record scratch* sees Mari on floor. “What’s going on in here?”

“Sabrina listen to me I need you to understand this, Lila is threatening anyone who is standing against her so I need you to go back to class act like you didn’t see us and hang on every word Lila says. Ok. I’ll tell you the rest later tonight when we get back to the hotel, just know that as of right now you’re a spy and I-we need you to get close to Lila.”

“Okay. It will be alright Marinette. See you tonight Chlo.”

***

“Chloe I’m worried about Adrien, have you seen him recently?”

“No I haven’t, not outside of school and even then he’s all gloomy with that leach hanging off of him.

“Hey Marinette can I talk to you?”

“Sure Kagami what is it?”

“Well I kinda wanted to do it in private it’s about Adrien.”

“Kagami whatever you have to say about him is fine to say in front of Chlo she’s worried to.”

“Ok, well you know how we have practice after school every other day”

“Yeah?”

“Well last week and again on Monday I saw him with bruises and nail marks across his body, the bruise I get sometimes in practice we can get hit to hard but there were so many I think something is happening at home, and the nail marks I know I don’t see him in class but how is it going with that Rossi problem.”

“She still clings on him but based on what you’re saying I think he probably has been pulling away and she is holding on tighter.”

“Mari, Tuskugi I’ll need your help but I think we need to inform Mr. Agrest or at least Natalie of what we believe to be happening.”

“Your right Chlo but I don’t know how we’re going to get a chance with how close Lila has gotten with Mr. Agrest and his brand.”

“If I may, my mother has been discussing my need for understanding the context of when it is appropriate to lash out and I believe we have yet to focus on abuse in all forms along with what bullying is.”

“Go on Tuskugi?”

“I believe that if my mother was to approach the school with an interest towards seminars in these subjects we could go around both Lila and interference from the elder Agrest”

———

“In the recommendation of several of our families it is a pleasure to present to you our assembly on bullying and abuse.”

(After assembly)

“Nice Tuskugi you did it”

“Chloe it’s Kagami you can use my name. Any way I’m going to be here for good mother is allowing me to continue in this school so long as I keep up with my practices.”

“Well, Kagami, it’s good to have you on board even if you won’t be in class with us.”

(Some where else in the building)

“Hey Lila, I think that you need to start giving me some space from now on,”

“Bu-bu-but why?”

“Well my father saw the nail marks you are leaving and has requested that we spend time apart so that my arm may heal”

***

In Marinette’s room

“Mari I feel funny”

“Chloe I’m working if you aren’t dying can you bother me later”

“But Dupain, Sabrina’s undercover and no one else will listen.”

“Huff, Ok what is it Chloe”

“Well it’s not horrible but eveytime were around kitty section I feel funny, but it’s only when everyone is together I feel nothing when we’re in class and everyone is there.

“Maybe your just mad because no one is really doing anything inside class so when we’re out of it your mad.”

“Marinette that’s not it and you know it, braced on the facts Chlo only feels nervous”

“I’m not nervous”

“When it’s the entirety of kitty section which means her reaction is caused by Luka.”

“Ooooh Chloe has a crush!”

“DO NOT”

“Yes you do”

“Yes, Chloe it is most probable you have a crush on Luka similar to back when I was discovering what it was like to similarly enjoy the presence of another”

“Oh shut up” Chloe said as she launched a pillow right at Kagami who ducked it making it hit Mari, unleashing a pillow fight that would lead to the girls having a pillow fight until both Chloe and Kagami where picked up by there rides.

***

“Bug!!!!” “M’lady” “Tentōmushi.”

It’s all I can hear as I gasp from the puncture that I now have right through my lung. All I can see are rushing shapes as Luka tries to get to his bracelet and the suddenly I can breathe again, I see Luka make a call and all of a sudden bee is there with her stinger at the ready, my heart is still racing but I don’t know why. I start running towards the akuma but Chlo”s already there with her venom out and monster frozen then I’m running as fast as I can to chat because he has the akumatized item and then that’s it the swarm is released and it’s like I know what’s happening.

“I’m running out of time, everyone go home and recharge we need to talk I’ll meet you on top of the tower in 30 minutes”

———

“Bug why are we here?”

“Well it’s been about six months since the forced reveal and public change of users. I feel as though we now need to confirm our identity with each other since before that time each of you had been serving for over a year.”

“But why now?”

“Why?! Because I almost died today we almost lost and I can’t tell anyone unless I’m in this suit. We need support and no one else can give it to us so we need to build our on support team inside and out of being suppers. So I will be going home to a safe space and any of you who are ready to know who I am and share your secret with the others can follow me. I will never hold this moment against you and I will leave my location visible if you need to take your time.”

“Chat are you coming?”

“Wherever you need me.”

———

“So now that we all know what does that mean. Where do we go now?”

“We go no where, we trust and have each other’s backs.”

“Well I personally don’t know why we did this Mari you knew who all of us were and I knew who all of you were, I even put together who Rena, and carapace were.

“Wait how did Chloe know before me M’Lady”

“Well, actually I don’t know?! Chloe how did you know”

“Well big we all know how you are and I sort of put your personality together from that and then no one in Paris is as sunshiny as Adrikins here,”

“humf”

“Don’t humf me you know it’s true. And after that well me and Luk’s started talking and there was something so calming about him and how he took care of everyone. Then of course I noticed how there was really only one more of us left, two if we count Sabrina but Gami was the only one that makes since because well look at her she’s vicious and loyal and most importantly is the only other one of us that has dark hair.”

“Well that’s fair.”

“Wait I still don’t get how you confirmed it?”

“Oh I gave pollen free will she can do whatever she wants whenever and the only downside is that I have to ask her if we can join battle.”

“WHAT!!!!!”

“What do you mean what? Of course she has free will why would I ever keep her like a servant.”

In a meek voice “I’m the guardian and even I didn’t know that they didn’t have free will, Tiki I'm so sorry I didn’t know. As guardian you now have free will Tiki. Adrian go get the Miracle box we have to free them all and no one but Tiki stayed out.”

“Kwamis’ as your guardian I wished I had known that you had no free will and as your guardian I am granting you that freedom but I wish to still have a connection with each of you, as you will work on your own in your own way I hope to keep your miraculous with me and your users so that if need arises we must only tap on them to call to you and inform you of your need, never to merge without your express permission but to work as partners not masters. Do you accept these terms?”

“YES”

“As guardian, on these terms all Kwamis’ under my care are free to do as they wish and will always have a home with each other and a family in there new found partners.

***

(Present)

“ Mari were here we’re going second pay attention Aurore just came up with an auction as a fundraiser.”

“That should work great well just need to do a bit more around the gaining items and how much of the revenue we will get to keep. Now after our pitch we will probably need at least six more ideas and committees to execute them, overall we need eight to even think about doing the trip for the whole senior class even if we get a sponsor other than whatever school we enter for those 6 weeks.”

“Bug your always thinking a head, just focus on now and we’ll deal with the rest after we come up with the finalized schedule for the bigger events.”

Tag list : @thezestywalru

[draconida]

Shance Fic Recs

Well, while I was in my AO3 profile, I realized how many bookmarks I have! So I've decided to make fic recommendation lists.   [This list will have other parts, and I include fics with Kuro and Sven]

1- Black to Blue by PuppetMaster55

Lance, the undisputed (no longer, since he finally got the team to stop questioning his position like a month ago) leader of Voltron finds himself in the absolute strangest scenario: being the Blue Paladin.

Lance, still finding his place on team Voltron, wakes up to the weirdest world: one where he's the Black Paladin.

OR, I take a universe where Lance was always the Black Paladin and have him swap bodies with canon Lance, throwing both sets of teams for a trip.

[This fic is the beginning of a series in process, super recommended]

2- Black & Blue by starboyshiro (this author writes a lot of love to Shiro)

“Something wrong, babe? Did you have a bad day or something?” Shiro asks, plopping down on the couch next to Lance.

“Nothing happened, I'm just looking at all of these cute cats thinking about how much I want one, but can't have one.” Lance frowns, resting his head on Shiro's shoulder as he continues to scroll through Instagram.

Shiro can't stand to see his boyfriend upset. That's been a proven fact since Day One of their relationship. It's only natural that when Lance mentions his disappointment at never owning a cat, Shiro goes above and beyond to cheer him up…

3- I Fold by starboyshiro [Explicit]

“Do you even know who I am?”

“Am I supposed to?”

“Most people around here do.”

An intense poker game turns into a rather steamy night. Can this scrawny grad student handle the force of the famous journalist Takashi Shirogane?

4- Is That A Bowl Of Popcorn In Your Lap Or Are You Just Happy To See Me? by munchiesafterdark [Explicit]

“How many bags should I do?” Shiro called, waving the four unopened packs in his hand at Lance questioningly.

“I think two should be fine,” Lance shrugged. “We can always pop more if… we…” He trailed off, train of thought vacating the station as Shiro turned his back to him to put the remaining packs of popcorn into the cabinets. His hips swayed to an unheard rhythm, defined muscles flexing as he reached up and slid the popcorn into place on the top shelf. Lance’s eyes trailed down to the V of his back, the sweats hanging low enough for him to spot the curve of his round ass. Yet another anomaly of those pants was the manner in which they accentuated his bottom while still remaining baggy around his legs.

The obnoxious ding of the microwave nearly startled Lance out of his skin. His shift on the couch must have been audible, Shiro raised a brow at him over his shoulder, a cocky smirk crossing his lips as he leaned over to retrieve the finished bag of popcorn.

Fuck, he was toying with him! Well, two could play that game!

5- Nasty Smoothie by strawberrylovely

Lance works in a smoothie shop. Twice a week, a certain customer comes in and orders a nasty smoothie. Lance is head over heels.

6- A Hit and A Miss (tletoe) by strawberrylovely

Basically, Lance goes to a party with Hunk and blows his friend a kiss. However, he wasn’t expecting the cute stranger standing in front of Hunk to think the kiss was for him.

7- you should let me (love you) by godsensei

There’s something in the bathtub. Suddenly, Lance is pissed at his past self for watching so many horror movies with creepy shower scenes. He’s certainly too young and beautiful to die like this, right?

Right, totally.

He hesitates, but creeps forward, peeking slowly behind the curtain.

Hm. There’s a hot guy in there.

8- just call me daddy by proletaricat [Explicit and omegaverse]

It's the typical a/b/o story - someone's off their suppressants, surprise heats, bam sex! Except this time Lance escapes capture with the help of Hunk and Shiro has to apologize for his behavior later, interrupting Lance in the middle of his Altean telenovela. Then they bang. It's... it's basically just a PWP with daddy kink and knotting.

9- Sometimes Playing Around with the Occult Can Turn Out Well (Like... REALLY well) by gorgawesome [Explicit]

Lance had the best costume prepared for this Halloween Party. He was totally gonna slay and finally get laid for the first time in MONTHS!

Except it's Halloween Night and he's stuck looking after the family bookstore, because local robberies or something. Honestly? He was too busy pouting to be listening.

Can an awful, boring night turn for the better? Yes. Yes, it can.

10- I found religion between your thighs by KillTheDirector [in process]

He had been topside for over four decades, enjoying the freedom he never had down in the pit. Routines were established then broken then reestablished, but Shiro abided by them because that’s what kept him alive.

Then he met a witch that was more suited to being an incubus than him.

11- One Symbol Off by Silas_Writes [Explicit]

anonymous whispered: Incubus/succubus shiro and witch lance use summoning circles and potions inappropriately

12- To Seduce the Seducer by singtolife [Explicit]

At a college party, Shiro meets Lance, and they hit it off immediately. Only to find out after they have sex that this amazingly sexy guy was a little too good to be true.

13- Blue Skies in Stockholm by Shanced [Explicit, non-con and Kuro]

Lance gets captured by Shiro (who was fused with Kuro by Haggar) and the rest is self indulgent kinky sex. Lance gets raped and wrecked by Shiro and develops Stockholm syndrome, or the likes of it, Shiro can apparently unfuse with Kuro and they have a really good time.

14- Treadmill by kitausu

At 2 minutes of torture in, Lance heard the buzz/click noise of someone’s electronic key activating and opening the door to the gym. And of course, because this was Lance’s life, Hunk had pushed him onto a treadmill with a mirror right in front, affording him an absolutely stunning view of the man walking through the door.

Had Lance loved till now? He was pretty sure that he had never even felt an emotion before seeing the beautiful male specimen reflected beside his face in the mirror.

or, Lance waxes poetic about Shiro's everything, and Hunk set it all up in the first place.

15- Black & Blue & Red All Over by thesynapticsnap

When Lance shows up to the gym with a limp and covered in bruises, Shiro assumes the worst (spoiler: It’s nothing bad! Nor anything kinky, surprisingly).

16- Car Door Blues by ShiekahKami

Shiro never would have expected that accidentally knocking that cute guy out could change his life for the better.

17- Give It a Shance by YonaDawn [in process]

The domestic life of Shance. At least until they become Twitter and Youtube famous. Then it's a wild domestic life.

18- Bowling for Balls? by EllaAniMine

They were just supposed to be bowling... It was harmless fun, or it was supposed to be.

Lance thought he was being funny, but a message that was supposed to be a joke was sent, and now Lance isn't laughing.

19- llévame si quieres by kalakauuas

Shiro takes his dogs to the park and meets the world’s cutest uncle and his niece.

"Lance and his little niece, petting Shiro’s dog, looking soft and serene; it’s like nothing could ever be truly wrong in the world if this is able to happen. What Shiro wouldn’t give to have this sight in front of him over and over again. He scratches Sirius behind the ears, and gets a reassuring lick in return as an act of solidarity. You’ve got this. Man’s best friend, for real."

20- (Mg,Fe2+)2(Mg,Fe2+)5Si8O22(OH)2 by starboyshiro

Lance and Shiro decided to expand their little family and adopt a dog. What they name him is rather questionable.

21- You're Worth More by AbandonedLibrary

Lance wanted to prove his pod his worth after that jackass rolo came in with black pearls in hand.

As the pearl expert in the group he needed to keep his name sake.

Though... Lance learned there are things worth more than pretty pearls.

22- Curiosity Caught a Cat by c0cunt

Shiro has been distancing himself from his friends and family for a long time. All he really has now is Matt's cat, Zekrom. At least, until a man crashes into his balcony to pet his cat.

23- Head Over Heels by saecchii [Kemonomimi and Explicit]

Shiro gains a new roommate, who he is absolutely smitten with.

24- Stray Cats by kitausu

Lance is really enamored with the cute guy who keeps coming into his pet store and buying WAY too much cat food.

or, Shiro moves into a new apartment and sees how many strays there are in the parking lot and just HAS to feed them.

25- Kiss the Bees by kitausu

Lance is smitten with the beekeeper next door.

26- BlueVoice by kitausu [Explicit]

Lance runs a relatively popular voice RP blog and one day hears his own voice coming out of the headphones of the really hot guy next to him at the gym.

27- Change of Plans by kitausu

When Shiro is left at the alter, he decides to go on his honeymoon alone. Enter Lance, the man Shiro had hired to take him and his would-be bride on a month long tour of Europe.

28- To The Grooms by AChapterCanBeABook

There is no better way to celebrate the best day of your life than reminiscing with the people who you love the most and who have been with you through nearly every step in your life. Let's not forget a little bit of embarrassment which goes along with best men speeches, especially if your best man is your brother and the other best man is his accomplice in this whole thing. nevertheless, it doesn't fail in livening up a wedding as well as making in just that much more sentimental.

29- Tell the Truth by thesynapticsnap

Lance is bitten by a 'love bug', turning him into a blushing, stammering mess around his crush- Shiro. Shiro helps him deal with the negative side effects, learning more about Lance's crush and considering his own feelings as they talk.

30- Guess Again by thesynapticsnap

Keith confronts Lance about something he witnessed during a team mind-melding exercise…too bad he’s got the wrong culprit.

31- Smooth by thesynapticsnap

Lance’s first meeting with Shiro doesn’t go as planned – it turns out so much better than he expected.

32- Blind Date by kitausu

“What’s the crisis? I thought you had a blind date? Didn’t go well?”

Lance wailed, collapsing into the couch with a dramatic sigh.

“Yesss, Hunk. He’s too handsome. He’s just so hot. You would not believe what he did to me. I still can’t believe it.”

or, Lance goes on a blind date and can't handle how hot Shiro is.

33- SandMan by Might_suck_but_thats_ok

Shiro goes on a blind date with Lance.

34- Lucky by zombiegardener

Shiro accidentally tells Keith that he's dating one of his frenemies from high school over a Saturday morning phone call, because how is this his life?

35- Boundaries by zombiegardener

It's really hard to keep a relationship secret when you're making out in the middle of a hallway.

36- beauty queen on the silver screen (living life like i'm in a dream) by heavenlyrare

What do you give to someone who already holds the world in their palms?

OR

The sweaters Shiro’s mom knits him every Christmas actually serves a greater purpose for once.

37- Text Me by strawberrylovely

Shiro, trying to get away from two girls who won't stop flirting with him, sits down next to a stranger who he pretends is his boyfriend. The stranger, who has pretty blue eyes, goes along with it.

38- Undateable by strawberrylovely

Lance just wishes someone would date him. Shiro offers to do just that.

39- Black Friday by strawberrylovely

Lance is gonna get that stand mixer. Unless of course a handsome stranger gets to it first.

40- Midnight Tradition by strawberrylovely

Lance goes to a New Years party and meets a guy named Shiro. They may be strangers, but they kiss at midnight anyway. After the party, Lance doesn’t think he’ll ever see Shiro again. That is until the next New Years party when the two meet again and a tradition starts.

Parts 1 / 2 / 3

[fyeahbecachloe]

the one where beca doesn’t like dogs (3/?)

Beca/Chloe Rating: T Word Count: 1967 Summary:What looked like an emaciated wolf was currently lying on her floor glaring at her. Eyes wide, Beca stood there frozen afraid it would attack her.

OR

Beca doesn’t like dogs but she’s dating a veterinarian so she’s pretty much screwed.

READ ON AO3

True to her word, Chloe did take full responsibility of MJ over the next few weeks. She took him to work every day and brought him back when she was finished. Depending on their schedules, sometimes Beca was home before them and sometimes she came home late to the two of them cuddling on the couch. On the weekends, Chloe would take him to the park or play with him outside. Beca barely had to worry about him.

Except for his fur. Huskies, Beca found out, shed. A lot. Now that MJ’s fur has almost fully grown back and he gained back his weight, he was shedding like crazy. Beca would find tufts of fur EVERYWHERE. She had taken to lint rolling herself every day before leaving work. Chloe, of course, promised she’d sweep and vacuum the house on a daily basis which Beca protested to right away

“You’re my girlfriend, not my maid I can clean up after the giant fur ball. That’s why god invented swiffers.”

It amazed Beca how much fur can accumulate in just one day. MJ looked at her curiously every time she brought out the vacuum. She had thought, like most dogs, he would be scared of it but he just followed her around while she ran it over the few carpeted areas they had in the house. MJ was very curious about the detachable hose.

“Yes, dude, I’m getting rid of all of your fur,” Beca told him as she used the hose extension to vacuum the couch. She playfully aimed it at him and to her surprise; he rolled onto his back presenting his belly. Beca looked around to see if she could get Chloe’s attention from the other room but she was nowhere to be found. “What?” she asked the dog but he just stared at her, upside down, with his tongue sticking out. Beca looked down at the vacuum extension and then started going over his belly with it and pretty much vacuuming him. MJ’s tail started wagging like crazy.

“You’re such a fucking weirdo.” Beca was laughing as she continued to vacuum his belly.

“Are you vacuuming the dog?” Chloe’s amused voice came from the other side of the room.

Beca smiled. “Yeah, sometimes you just gotta go to the source.”

--

“I’m taking tomorrow off. I’m exhausted,” Chloe announced after she finished getting ready for bed. She climbed in next to Beca who had her laptop with her working on some last minute things. MJ was already in his own bed on the floor next to theirs. Beca had given up on the whole “no dogs in the bedroom” rule because it seemed like it was the only thing Chloe said that he refused to follow. It was fighting a losing battle. The only real time they kicked him out was during sex because having a dog in the same room you were having sex in was very very weird.

Beca looked up from work as Chloe cuddled up next to her rubbing their bare legs together. “Perfect timing since I will be working from home tomorrow.” She saved the file she working on and then shut the laptop close. She set it aside on her table and moved closer to Chloe, very aware of the leg that was now moving between hers.

“Yay, I get to spend the whole day bugging you while you work,” Chloe said as she lazily traced her fingers against Beca’s back, lifting her shirt to feel skin. Beca shivered.

“Babe, you’re about to start something you can’t finish.”

Chloe gasped in faux offense. “Who says I won’t finish? Or you won’t?” She grinned and moved her thigh up, pressing against Beca’s center.

Beca sucked in a breath and grabbed a hold of Chloe’s hips to stop the beginnings of a grind. “Chloe, you’re two seconds from falling asleep. Don’t pretend you haven’t fallen asleep in the middle of sex.”

Chloe laughed and removed her leg but pulled Beca closer. “For your information, Beca Mitchell, I fell asleep shortly after sex. Not during. Stop ruining my reputation and spreading false rumors.” She leaned up and pressed a kiss to Beca’s lips and reached over to turn off the lamp. “But yes, I am sleepy, so stop talking, you’re keeping me up.”

“You’re so annoying.” Beca turned around and let Chloe spoon her from behind.  She took Chloe’s hand and put it under shirt and over her stomach.

“Do you need a belly rub, too, Bec?”

“Shut up, oh my god. Go to sleep, you’re keeping the dog up.” And on cue, MJ made an annoyed grunt. “See? Go to sleep, dog!”

Chloe started drawing circles around Beca’s belly button and smiled against her shoulder when she felt the muscles twitch under her finger. “He has a name, you know? How would you feel if I called you ‘woman’ all the time?”

Beca snorted. “You call me that every time I do something you find annoying.” Of course it was always in jest.

“How hard is it to refill the Brita pitcher?”

“Go to sleep, Chloe.”

“You forgot to refill the pitcher again, didn’t you?”

“I’m leaving you.”

Chloe kissed her shoulder. “You’re stuck with me forever.”

--

Beca started her days a lot later when she was working from home. She was awoken up in the most wonderful of ways with Chloe’s head between her legs and bringing her to an orgasm in her waking moments. She was just catching her breath when Chloe replaced her mouth with two fingers and made her come again while smirking at her.

“That’s for being so goddamn annoying last night,” Chloe winked before going to the bathroom.

Beca laughed and looked down to find where Chloe put her shorts and underwear. “Babe, where are my clothes?” The shower turned on.

“You don’t need clothes when you’re about to shower with me!” Beca quickly ran to the bathroom while discarding her last item of clothing. Chloe was already in the spacious shower and she stepped in and was immediately pulled into a kiss under the hot spray.

“Wait,” Beca said pulling back. “Where’s the dog?”

Chloe’s eyes grew comically wide. “Are you seriously thinking about MJ when I’m about to give you your third orgasm before 9 o’clock?” Beca opened her mouth to retort but realized she got nothing. “He’s in the yard, Bec.” Her eyes were twinkling with amusement.

“Oh, right, duh.” She nodded and gestured for Chloe to continue.

Chloe grinned and backed Beca into the shower wall and then sank to her knees. “Hmm,” she mused and lifted Beca’s leg so it was over her shoulder. Beca gripped onto the railing that she may or may not had installed customized for situations like these. She wasn’t keen on finding “sustained fall in shower while having sex” on any hospital discharge papers. Chloe made sure Beca had a proper grip. “I’m trying to figure out when I turned you into a pillow princess. I mean, 3 to 0 really isn’t fair.”

Beca’s snarky retort died on her tongue because Chloe’s was on her clit. God, her girlfriend was annoying.

--

After her very blissful morning, (which she did reciprocate, she was not a pillow princess, thank you very much) Beca was in her in home studio working on one of her many ongoing projects. She preferred working from home because it was more relaxing and her creative juices flowed more. And working in her pajamas was a bonus. Double bonus when Chloe was home with her and her distractions were a welcome.

Beca was approaching 3 hours of nonstop working while Chloe caught up on all her TV shows she didn’t have the time to watch. She didn’t even realize it was nearly lunch time until she saw Chloe in her peripheral leaning against the door of her studio. Beca pulled the headphones down from her ears.

“Hey, babe, what’s up?”

“Well, I was going to make us lunch and  then opened our fridge and pantry and realized we haven’t gone grocery shopping in forever.” Chloe walked into the studio and stood behind Beca’s chair and was already massaging the knots in her neck. Beca let out an appreciative moan. “I’m going to make a grocery store run to pick up essentials for lunch and dinner tonight. Will you be okay with MJ for a couple of hours?” Hearing his name, Beca heard the pitter patter sounds of MJ’s paws against the hardwood floor as he trotted into her studio. A space he knows he’s not allowed in but he sat down next to her chair anyways.

Beca narrowed her eyes at him but he just gave her the same look back. “Yeah, I’m sure I can handle Cujo for a couple of hours. Go get us some sustenance, please.”  She leaned her head against the back of her chair and gave Chloe a goofy upside smile.

Chloe leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Okay, be good.” She leaned down and kissed MJ’s head too before leaving the studio.

Beca frowned as she watched Chloe walk down the hall. “Are you talking to me or the dog?”

“Both!”

MJ barked the same time Beca yelled “Rude!” He followed her to the back door before looking out the front window as Chloe’s car pulled out of the driveway. MJ let out a little whine as the car disappeared down the street. “Dude, she’ll be back. I think you’re becoming a little codependent.” He grunted at her before returning to his tennis ball.

Beca got back into a stride for a good 30 minutes when she felt a weight in her lap. She looked down and saw MJ had placed his head on her lap and looked up at her with what could only be described as puppy eyes.

“What’s up, dude?” She unconsciously scratched the back of his ears the way she’s seen Chloe done a hundred times before. His tail gave a half hearted wag. Beca resumed work and she continued to pet his head but MJ let out a high pitched whine and was still giving her the same look.

“What?” Beca furrowed her eyebrows, not quite sure what to do. “Chloe will be back in a little bit, I promise.” But MJ just made a grumbling noise, sat down, and stared at her. He whined again and then barked. “Dude, what? I don’t speak dog.” MJ almost looked annoyed before he got up again and this time tugged on the bottom of Beca’s pajama pants with his teeth.  He looked at her again and then headed for the door and sat down.

“Do you want me to follow you?” MJ’s tail started to wag when Beca finally got up and he turned around to walk towards the living room with Beca following him.  He led them to the couch and then laid down by it.

“Okay now what?” Beca asked him and then he began to paw under the couch. “Is there something under there?”  Beca knelt down and looked under the couch and laughed. MJ had pushed his tennis ball under the couch and couldn’t reach it. She had to lay completely on her stomach to retrieve it and MJ copied her actions. When she got back up, Beca handed the rescued tennis ball for him to take.

“You must be the dumbest smart dog ever.” MJ barked appreciatively and took the ball from her. “You want to play fetch with that outside?”  But MJ was already waiting by the French doors that led to the backyard.  “I’ll take that as yes.” Beca took the ball from him before opening the door and he ran outside.

“Okay, MJ, go fetch!” And Beca threw the ball across the yard, smiling.

[ivyveil]

Feeling Spirited

the one where it's a throwback to when Harry and Y/N were just friends and Y/N's drink helps her forget

A/N:  A Continuation of LITP (masterlist here) TW: alcohol 

The sky was dark. Had been for weeks now, the clouds clustering together to formulate something thicker than the water making up their essence. A fog was settling, clouding up your thoughts or ability to rationalize any of your actions. Acting with blind impulsiveness didn’t align with the rest of your usual characteristics; even your wildest nights generally took prior planning, but bottles had been a source of solace against the bitterness of confusion, the anxiety of life.

It hadn’t been an issue, not really, because you knew how to handle yourself when drunk, and knew the reaches of your limitations with alcohol. But trouble started brewing when your 5:30 pm started when everyone else began their 9:30 am. And when you thought you were only going for one more drink, but ended up with four glasses in your sink.

The drinks in the morning were simply to calm your nerves, settle the anxiety bubbling in your lungs. And the one at lunch was to offset the chance you would freak out in the middle of your presentation, and the second was because the restaurant offered you a free one.

Was only polite to accept.

It had spiraled into drinks at sporadic times throughout the day, never so many as to make you stumble while walking back to your desk, but certainly enough to only need one or two more when you went home, to slip over the edge. Even looking at a bottle seemed to get your mind in a safe place.

Nestled between the space of your wall and the bedroom bookcase, was a plastic bottle of Smirnoff, half-empty and pitifully groaning as it was tugged out. The books watched silently, probably feeling much superior because they were considered a more refined pastime.

The vodka didn’t seem to give a fuck.

You winced considerably when it popped out of its hiding spot, the familiar panic gripping your bones that you were a teenager again. Hiding alcohol from parents, keeping it in safe spots so any stranger’s eyes would only spot a pristine home, a girl who respected cleanliness and experienced minimal, if any, breakdowns.

The truth was always nestled somewhere deeper, whether it was beneath clothing in drawers, behind bookshelves, in the back of your bathroom cabinet, or underneath your bed. The truth usually tasted like shit, too.

That you were in your 20s and continuing the practice of secret drinking, of playing pretend to appease some authority that wouldn’t give a damn, now that your license said you were of age - it both amused and disgusted you. A restricted sense of adulthood, surely, a lack of freedom to openly be the drunken mess you felt inside. Perhaps it was acceptable to turn a blind eye to it in adolescence, but when you had become a regular at the liquor store, it felt more like a ruse.

Suppose it replaced your blood, you wondered, holding your arm up to the lamplight and inspecting the hint of veins against your skin. Suppose it congealed in the veins, a substrate for your demons to thrive on. Perhaps it could be better than the life of intangible anxiety that crept against each wall, became every shadow, lurked in everyone’s unsuspecting glance.

The nerves were rattling in your teeth, you could feel the invisible bugs of anxiety nipping at your chest and legs. If this was what it took to become calm, maybe it wasn’t so bad. Only a few drinks, more people probably did it than they would confess to.

“It was another shit work day,” you divulged to your cactus, padding back from the bedroom, to the living room, only to shlump against the couch. The cactus only watched, perhaps having come to the conclusion its advice would never be properly considered and it was only a waste of breath. Or photosynthesis. You weren’t sure on the particulars of horticultural language.

“I can’t scratch off how fuckin’ lonely everything feels,” you continued, mindlessly itching at your legs, not needing to be prompted by anything in particular.

Your apartment felt hollow, exasperated by the emptiness in both mind and soul. Curling up on the couch with some bottle had become a ritual, of sorts, yet you weren’t sure what good could come of it.

A shrine of glass and plastic bottles decorated the spaces above the kitchen cabinets, around the corner from where you were presently cuddled. Each one tallied a few night’s of shame, but cumulatively you supposed it was a nice Pinterest trick. Show the nonexistent guests how bougie you were, buying cheap whiskey and vodka. Make them think you had parties all the time, when they were only parties of one.

Your glass was ready, waiting patiently on the table, as you filled it to the brim with the nasty clear liquid.

“I think you’re my true love,” you cocked your head at the glass, taking it in for all its perks and limitations. Regardless, it was still there with you. All that mattered, to an extent.

You couldn’t really stand the shit, had to stick your tongue out like a fucking cat after each shot to bear the taste down your throat. But drinking wasn’t particularly for enjoyment, not these days. It was like a medicine to keep yourself calm; it felt like your whole life revolved around it, because to an extent, it did. But your sanity was on the brink of collapsing, and you were determined to do whatever you could to keep yourself calm.

It was at that moment, with your eyes squished shut and your tongue smacking against the roof of your mouth to distract from the sensation, that your phone buzzed. It was also on the table, next to the stack of marbled coasters and the multitude of TV remotes (why did services give you three remotes for one machine, you still didn’t understand).

I’ve missed you. Wanna come out tonight? x.

Harry and his mates, the group you loved and hated equally, would gather for beers at the Ale Tavern each Thursday evening, a letting-off-steam of sorts before the glorious Friday blessed their workload. Harry had met them through various means, photoshoots, interviews, or just networking events, and had hodge-podged the group together so you two would have a social setting to hang out when he was in town.

Which was, you reminded yourself, mostly because your friends list was lacking at the moment. Most of them, dear to your heart, had received promotions or were traveling around the world for the majority of their work, while you waited at home for nothing to happen. And for nothing to happen again. And maybe once more, for the heck of it.

Some of the group’s members, the ones teetering on the outskirts like leeches, looking for a better opportunity, often treated you like you were off, a bit. A screw loose in the mind, an instability in your essence.

When words came out of your mouth, their eyes would instinctively widen, as if your breath was mixed with unregulated insanity and electric nonsense, so you’d typically keep to yourself. Was the only way to survive the brutal bar nights, with small talk and curious glances at your best friend, who would spend the whole night dodging questions and smiling for photos.

Harry found your silence weird, every time, since you were often the life of the party within his other social groups. You felt his other pals were more genuine, allowing you to exist unapologetically. Plus, small talk was practically banned at those hang-outs, which was another reason you felt you got along well with them.

With your Ale Tavern group, though, Harry had the tendency to nudge you gently, when you were in the corner of the booth stirring a Long Island, and ask you what was wrong. Which would, in turn, increase your unwillingness to be engage with more people -- because why were you well-known for being strange, why couldn’t you simply be a dilution of yourself and pass as OK?

Another buzz, another text.

You poured another shot.

I’m proud of you btw, you’re doing really well. x. :)

Another buzz, another text.

You winced before knocking the shot back, your tongue shooting out on instinct after.

Speaking of, should I come over? If you don’t want to be around drinks…

Giggling to yourself at the unfortunate timing, you swayed a bit on your couch and repositioned your legs to tuck under your ass. One of the green blankets draped over the couch fell to the floor during your transition, and your eyes trained on that spot, waiting to see if it returned.

It didn’t. Gravity was a fucker, only headed one way.

Harry was sweet to care, truly, but if he saw you in this state you knew how it would go. The disappointment would swell in his eyes, he would gently try to pry the bottle out of your hands. Thinking about the situation, even as a possibility, made your fingers curl against the plastic a bit more stubbornly.

“It’s too late, I’m nothin to be proud of,” you informed your phone, frowning as you attempted to scroll up further in your texts with him. There was nothing, though, but it didn’t register until it buzzed once more, and your scrolling resulted in a new text appearing.

I’m just gonna come over. Is that okay? xx.

“Okie dokie,” you mumbled, poking each letter with your index finger until the message was spelled. You sent it.

The cactus groaned in the back, whispering to the lamp, “He is going to be so fucking pissed when he sees her like this.”

Harry was the one who consistently found you passed out at the bar a few streets away from your home. The bartender had found your phone the first time, when Harry was calling (and the ringtone was an obnoxious version of What Makes You Beautiful that you had stumbled upon once, not an important detail but once that made him blush at the time) and had informed Harry that his friend would probably need help leaving, given your state. His number became a regular one to call.

So Harry would help you home, rub over your face gently with a washcloth in a hearty attempt to get off your makeup, and hold your hair back when you came to and felt the drinks for a second time.

Quiet pity and a particular sort of confused hurt would reflect in his eyes, when you had the guts and stability to look at them. He was usually under the impression you were staying home, getting over a cold, busy with work, etc. - and that was why you weren’t able to make it to some mutual friend’s birthday party. After all, that was what you had told him, anyway.

Neither you nor Harry spoke about those nights, when it was the morning after, or even any night after.

You had sent him a text, weeks ago, after guilt had rusted away the stubbornness in your bones. You informed him you were going to try and stay sober for a bit, not liking the way it had made you feel. He was happy about it, it seemed, because the worry was absent from his smile the next time you ran into each other. His hug was a bit tighter, but then again, that was just Harry being Harry.

Your soberness lasted four days. Then you were back, standing in front of the cabinet, with that pathetic acceptance you loathed about yourself. How one aspect of your soul could so resiliently rule the rest, made no sense. You didn’t know how to fight it, though, and so the glasses and bottles came out once more.

You gave your cactus the most awful side-eye you could muster, before extending yourself fully out on the couch. Your fingertips felt like they were touching clouds, clouds intermingled with the deep current of black waters, which meant you had drunk a bit more than you had meant to. An accident, surely, but it didn’t stop you from rolling over on your side (and almost off the couch), huffing at the bottle.

It glugged like a drunk whale trying to drown, pouring out another shot.

Someone was stroking your hair. It felt nice, the rhythm of their fingertips against the curls, stopping at the edges of your forehead, before moving back and gently starting again. The motion was kept on one spot of your head, as well, which was a personal favorite of yours. The movement throughout the whole head was just craziness. Everything had a greater chance of messing up when it came to full-head-hair-strokes. And only one person had heard that drunken rant before (except for your cactus, but that usually kept to itself about your rants. As most cacti do.)

“Yeh up?” someone mumbled, throat thick. They sounded half-asleep, and their fingers slowed as they waited for an answer.

Your head was still smashed against a wave of Smirnoff, too blurred to put two and two together and recognize the need for a response. Anyway, you didn’t appreciate the fingers stopping, so you grunted softly to signal that.

They didn’t continue, this person seemed really fucking set on getting you speaking. Your mouth felt glued, in a thicker, denser sense of the word. Your tongue felt perfectly content resting against the back of your teeth, your lips staying shut.

It was when you became steadily more aware of your surroundings, how it wasn’t a pillow under your head but denim, smooshed against your cheek. How your head was sloped up from the rest of your body, how a blanket was tucked around your person and even your toes were covered by the tassles on the end. You were on someone’s lap, surely, and in the depths of your mind you wondered, with a slight giggle, how scandalous a drunken night alone, in the comforts of your home, could get?

“Who’s asking?” you managed to croak, your fingers reaching outwards from the confines of the cozy blanket, seeking the bottle you knew would’ve been hidden at this point. The question was pointless, you knew him by his cologne. Hell, you knew him from how he stroked your hair, for Christ’s sake.

It was the improbable sense in your gut that hoped it was someone like Chris Evans who had you cuddled up against them. Maybe he was in the midst of robbing your home (Marvel might’ve gone through budget cuts, it happened to the best) before stumbling across your sleeping body. Maybe he found your Chinese takeout, too, because you were awful at remembering to eat leftovers. Although it would be disturbing on most levels of sanity, you could find the loveliness in the situation.

If it were Chris Evans, that is.

“Harry. ‘Ve got long hair, ‘m yeh best friend. Yeh told me I could come ove’’,” Harry teased quietly. It was sort of unsettling, how humor was in the words but his actual voice was void of emotion. He was worried.

You were quiet, unsure if this was a situation in which Harry would take over the conversation if you stayed silent long enough. There weren’t many words you had to say, anyway, your present situation must have been clear enough when he walked in. Plus, his knee was nice to rest your head against. Speaking would just lead to eventual motion, which was already turning your stomach at the thought.

The two of you listened to the distant hum of your freezer kicking into place from the kitchen, the soft rattling of ice cubes tumbling into the tray you had set out. Harry seemed content on waiting for a response, of any type, or maybe to see if you fell asleep. It was entirely possible this entire conversation had happened earlier since Harry’s arrival, and you had passed out again.

If you were to move your head, you felt, something really unfortunate would happen. Like vomiting. Or the world ending. Or having to look Harry in the eyes.

His fingers stopped fully, just resting against your cheek. They were embers, most definitely, and you wondered if you could start a trend for Harry Styles Cheek Burns. Probably wouldn’t catch on. Bit of a health hazard, perhaps. It was difficult to know for sure, because once a thought formulated in your mind it seemed to expand outwards into the galaxy, becoming so diffused in the stars you weren’t able to piece it back together again.

“What’s been goin’ on, Y/N?”

His eyes were on the back of your neck, trailing up to your cheek. It wasn’t unsettling, how you could feel his gaze with your mind – or, at least, it didn’t feel so, at that moment, with him. It was just natural, how you understood him.

He sounded tired. He sounded like he had been working on asking, for a while, and the slight strangled noise that twisted the softness of his voice signaled that you had really fucked up. This wasn’t a joke, anymore, it wasn’t for shits and giggles like it was when you would out-drink his Irish friends at the bar.

All Harry wanted was an answer, a few words so he could just know what to do. Alcohol was an issue with a few other friends, ranging from binge drinkers to alcoholics, and Harry was comfortable enough spending nights dry with them. Essentially, he was comfortable because they told him where their boundaries were, and he could navigate those easily.

Yours, on the other hand, were completely blank. How it felt, to watch you slip out of your daily self, into some shell that no one else seemed to notice, it drove him crazy. How was he supposed to ask why his best friend was leaving, how he could stop it?

There was no way Harry could order you to quit drinking. To be honest, he didn’t know if it was just alcohol, and some subconscious level of his mind was on alert for that phone-call. Another one, with you shlumped in some dim-lit bar with seedy men clinging on the walls with tongues snaking out, sniffing the vulnerability in the air. Or an even worse phone call.

Shudders erupted from the base of his neck, down to his spine. He didn’t even want to think about it.

He didn’t know how to save someone who didn’t want to be saved. Someone who wouldn’t even open up to him about it. He wasn’t sure how to respond with you not talking to him about it. You two were best friends, he told you things his own mother didn’t know about. What could be so bad, you couldn’t tell him?

Entering your home to find you, initially unresponsive, on the couch with a hand dangled against the carpet, a bottle clutched in your fingertips, was nothing short of terrifying. His heart had plummeted through his stomach, his chest felt tight and he wondered, with the worst case scenario always coming first, if you were alive.

“Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck. C’mon Y/N...this isn’t funny, c’mon wake the fuck up - oh my god, c’mon don’t leave me here, wake up.”

Helplessness could only sharpen its hold on his throat with time, his voice growing steadily higher-pitched, when he didn’t know what had happened. After gently (and then roughly) shaking your shoulders, and finding that you weren’t unconscious but simply napping (“I thought yeh were dead, Jesus Y/N, don’t do that again”) and he had chuckled a bit when your eyebrows came together, not quite stirring enough to register his panic, and you had dipped again in the haze of dreams.

The smile on his face seemed maddening, the swelling tears in his vision seeming more appropriate for the situation, but he supposed it was simply a reaction to overwhelming ‘what the fuck’ feelings. This wasn’t one of your stupid jokes, the type where he would laugh without realizing because you had laughed at yourself, which just triggered him to laugh more and – no, this was something beyond the scope of seriousness that he knew how to deal with.

You were fine. You were fine. You were okay. It was just a little too much to drink, the coldness of your hands was just normal. You were fine.

He had lowered himself onto the couch, moving your head to rest on his lap, so his fingertips could feel your pulse as he stroked your hair with the other. Authorities weren’t needed, he had felt, you were just napping. (He had still texted his family doctor, though, just to make sure.)

“Just had a drink o’ two,” you whispered, staring at the wall.

He hummed, his fingers resuming the strokes against your cheek. Harry could tell it calmed you down, how your breath evened out and your eyebrows relaxed. Even as you were coming out of the safe space of intoxicated padding, even when the glimmer of soberness clung to your eyes, he needed to feel you physically there.

His heart hadn’t stopped feeling tight.

“Wanna tell me why?”

“I don’t know.”

The words left you in short gasps, as your fingers curled against the denim of his jeans. Your eyes stayed open, glazed over slightly, somewhat with tears and somewhat with that emptiness that had been ripping you apart lately. How was something so non-existent so prevalent in your existence? And why was it that all you had nowadays, was a bunch of ‘how’s and not much else?

Harry nodded slowly, sniffling quietly. Maybe you didn’t know the words, you couldn’t explain what you were feeling. Maybe he was beginning to understand that he couldn’t understand. That the spaces of your world were compressing in so many angles, it was dizzying the amount, the walls were closing and you were the only one in the room. He couldn’t enter it, he couldn’t pull you out.

“Do yeh need to throw up?”

The familiarity in the question, it pulled from his lips without hesitation or urgency. He was used to this, you realized, guilt flooding your senses and kicking some of the haze away. Harry’s nights with you were, nowadays, commonly associated with toilets and toothbrushes, with him gently prying a bottle out of your hand and listening to your rambles that mainly consisted of the various alcohol brands you could think of.

You nodded, knowing the nausea hadn’t gripped your eyes shut yet, but it would soon.

“’Kay,” he sighed, raising his arms so you could scoot out, “let’s go on, then.”

Once more, it felt too much like a routine. Like a horror movie where you were lost as to how you got here - in a schedule that felt both so normal and incredibly wrong. 

He shouldn’t have to do this, he shouldn’t have to be here.

It was all you could think of, a looped tape in your mind, with his broad hands carefully holding onto your hips to help you maintain your balance. (You had started refusing to be carried to the bathroom, after Harry hadn’t made it in time. Wasn’t one of your better nights, that was for sure.)

Harry had even gotten in the loose habit of braiding your hair as you were bent over the toilet, your legs immediately going around and him sitting close behind. It was reminiscent of those massage trains girls used to do at sleepovers, but more ‘adult’ and trashy. 

“C’mon, feel like that one was the last?...No, ‘kay, that’s fine, yeh just gotta get it all out, hm?” Once your hair was plaited, his hands would softly rub against your back until you nodded, signaling it was over for the night. He would normally be quiet for it all, having spent the night clubbing with you and attempting to switch out your drinks with waters, but this time was different.

“I want yeh to do what makes yeh happiest.”

You had rested your cheek against the cool lid, not feeling the next wave of nausea. It seemed like you were in the clear, your head’s pounding had substantially lessened, but you didn’t move. Harry had more to say.

“And this, this isn’t it. You’re the best friend I could ask for, Y/N...I can’t watch yeh like this, anymore.”

You sniffled, nodding bleakly and with a shaky hand, you wiped underneath your eyes, reaching up blindly to pull at a few tissues to mop up the mess on your face. Harry’s hands drew to a still, before gently resting on your shoulder.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah? Talk ‘bout it in the mornin...yeh can call off work, and we can figure it out,” he promised. Harry made a mental note to email his therapist for some recommendations for alcohol abuse therapists, just for resource options.

When you had the courage to look behind you, the voice in your mind faintly recognizing you hadn’t looked at him directly that night, the first thing that caught your attention was the tear streaks down his reddened cheeks. His eyes seemed bigger than normal, looking at you cautiously.

Harry gave you an attempt at a smile, the wells only overspilling with the action. He gave a little shrug with his shoulders, as if saying ‘what can be done about it?’ before patting your shoulder twice.

Hastily wiping at his cheeks, Harry slowly rose to his feet, sniffling, all while you were still curled against the toilet. You watched him silently, the disgust that typically followed your night’s routine finally catching up and settling in your bones. If you could crawl out of your skin, you would’ve, no second thought.

Harry held out a hand for you to hold onto, carefully helping you up, waiting as you wearily brushed your teeth and gargled some Listerine, and led you over to your bedroom. No words were exchanged between either of you, but as the covers were pulled back, you pulled your arm out from Harry’s light grip, staring at him.

“You shouldn’t have to do this,” you shook your head, “I’m sorry I’m like this. You shouldn’t have to do this.”

Harry had moved over, settling in on his side of the bed, pushing one of the pillows over to your side (he only liked having one, for some reason). When you spoke though, he immediately started shaking his head.

“Stop it, won’t hear it. I’m here ‘cause I wanna be...if I didn’t wanna be, I wouldn’t. I care about yeh, want you safe.” It was clipped, not unkind, but to the point. 

You didn’t respond, letting the night cover over the conversation like a drape, a thick blanket taking over your eyelids. Nestling under the covers, feeling the warmth of another human being to your left...hearing the rustling of the covers as Harry got comfortable beneath them…

You felt the cover lift from your body as Harry moved underneath it, his arm securing around your waist and pulling you comfortably closer to his chest. His head tucked against your shoulder, his lips pressed familiarly against your back. You smelled like alcohol, as if it stained your pores, but he didn’t mind too much. Just liked knowing where you were, that you were safe.

“Harry?”

Words felt different in the complete dark, more confessional. It was safer, to say these sorts of things. As if they could be more easily written off, than it spoken during the day. Your mind was shutting down for the night, you could see the swirling storms of dreams out against the grey horizon. But you just needed to say...

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. For not leaving me.”

“’Course. ’M forever yours,” he mumbled, holding you tighter.

“Goodnight, Haz.”

 “Night, love.”

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

A/N: Check the masterlist of LITP here, and let me know your thoughts if you would like!  

[iamkatehardy]

Dessert (Eddie Brock x Reader)

Requested by: @bxbblesstuff

“Heyyyy.... yeah it's me again, sorry if I'm bothering, but could I get an imagine with Eddie Brock where the reader is British and well, if you're a Brit in America you could have some struggles like not being understood. So let's say that they are like in a date and the waitress does not understand the reader. Sorry if it's too much. Love your blog, bye”

Author’s Note: I’m sorry if I butchered the British slangs, but I don’t use them frequently, don’t kill me if you’re a British reading this , please 😂 for those of you who aren’t familiar with some of the slangs, I put the meaning 😋

Also, first time writing for Eddie, and as I’ve said before, I don’t usually do it, because there are so many great fics with him around,that I don’t know if I can make something worthy 😛

Warnings: Things get a little spicy in the end... Swearing, Descrimination.

Let me know what you think, loves ❤️

Dessert

Eddie worked with you for some weeks now. You and him hit it off right away; you loved how pure and genuine he was. He found you quite interesting too, from the thick British accent, to how lovely you looked when you were huffy, not to mention you were a sight for sore eyes.

You were in charge, the editorial manager, but you were very laid back, treating every person in there equally. For the first time, Eddie knew when his boss called him to her office it didn’t always mean trouble, sometimes it even meant being praised.

He often talked to himself, at first you wondered if he was crazy, but over time you discovered that that was just Eddie being Eddie; he wasn’t all there sometimes, but he was the sweetest, and hard worker.

Eddie was alluring, and you had been plucking up courage to ask him out, you just had to become become better acquainted with him first, to make sure he would accept just because you were his boss. He had been thinking about the same, but he wanted to make sure Venom understood he shouldn’t step in, because Eddie wouldn’t know how to explain the whole situation to you.

After staging the whole situation in your mind for couple hundred times, you decided to do it.

“Eddie, could you come to my office, please?” - You asked him.

This time he thought he was in deep trouble, he had been absent from work for almost a week.

“Sure...” - He was noticeably nervous.

“ I won’t be biting you, I swear.” - He made you laugh , and you walked to your office. Effie trailed behind you.

You sat down, relaxing in your chair, but when Eddie sat down he was all but relaxed.

“Bloody hell, am I that scary?” - You removed your glasses. Eddie shook his head.- “ I was just wondering if maybe we could grab dinner after work, one day.” - You said, with an expectant look.

Venom, who sometimes had an awful timing, decided to intervene.

“Eddie, do we eat bosses?” - Eddie heard inside his head.

“What? No!” - Eddie said in annoyance.

“Oh, sorry... Hmm, ok...” - Your smile faded, as you thought his answer was meant to answer your question.

“Fuck... No (Y/N), I didn’t mean...” - He scratched his head , taking a deep breath. - “Look, I’ll be right back, my answer isn’t no, yeah?” - He got up, rushing to the bathroom and locking himself inside.

“We do NOT eat bosses! At least not (Y/N), she’s everything but evil...”

“Hmmm...” - Venom grunted in his head.- “Not even the eyes? I like her eyes.”

“I like her eyes too, and that’s exactly why we won’t eat them! We won’t hurt her at all , ok?”

“ What if I get hungry? Really hungry...”

“NO! And I’d really appreciate if I could have dinner with her, with no trouble. I could get you a ton of chocolate of your choice...” - Eddie sighed.- “I like her, I really do, I can’t show you to her just yet, that would frighten her.”

“That would cost you at least 15 boxes of chocolate”

“I’ll give you 30 then!”

Eddie walked back to hour office, where you remained, crestfallen.

“Only if it’s today!” - He smiled.

“I beg your pardon?” - You looked up at him.

“Let’s have dinner tonight (Y/N), I’m really looking forward to it!”

“But I thought...”

“I’m sorry for what just happened, I was just nervous, never meant to decline your invitation, I couldn’t. Pick you up at 8?”

You giggled, because he was probably telling the truth, Eddie being Eddie again, one of the reasons that made him so cute.

“8 is perfect for me!”

After work you went home and immediately dolled up for the occasion, you wanted Eddie’s jaw to drop, and it did, in the second he laid his eyes on you when he came to pick you up. He knew the very professional you, not the casual version, but he was dying to.

Eddie was glad Venom was behaving , but he was so nervous that even without Venom bugging him, he was afraid to screw things up at any minute.

“Eddie, the chair. Remember the movie in which you cried , the other night, pull the chair for the girl.”

He pulled our chair and made a note in his mind to give Venom extra chocolates for that one.

“Thank you.” - You smiled warmly at him, impressed

A waitress came and delivered you both the menu.

“Oh, thank God! Besides cream crackered (tired) , I’m completely Hank Marvin (starving)! I’m salivating just by having a butchers (having a look) at the menu!”

Eddie smiled, he knew you always used British expressions and a thicker accent when you were truly excited, and that was definitely a good sign for him. The waitress shot you a side-look, as if you were from another planet.

“I’m absobloodylutely gobsmacked! These all sound and look great. But I’m feeling homesick today, so maybe I’ll ask you to get me some laverbread for a starter, then I’ll have a Scotch egg and chips, could that be?” - You smiled nicely at the waitress.

“I’ll trust your good taste and have the same!”

“I’m sorry ma’am, perhaps you could speak slower, and in a more understandable English?” - The waitress said almost laughing on your face, of how odd your accent sounded to her.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, this one isn’t a good one, can we eat?!”- Venom asked excited.

Eddie was shocked with how inconvenient the waitress had been, and he almost felt like letting Venom bite her head off.

“That’s par (disrespectful comment), miss. Definitely not how you should treat a punter (costumer), but sure, I can try to translate my English for someone as dim (with lack of common knowledge) as you miss.”

“You really shouldn’t (Y/N) , I think you speak beautifully.” - Eddie put his hand over yours, reassuring you.

The waitress looked at you with a mix of disgust, confusion and ignorance.

“Look, I’m nearly losing my plot (going crazy) right now. It’s a shame how people make you feel like an alien sometimes. What a poor ability to understand people’s roots and culture some people have, but you’re taking the biscuit!”

“(Y/N)” - Eddie got up. - “Let’s go, I won’t let anyone make you feel bad, or ruin our evening.”

“It was an absolute clanger to come here!” - You got up , trying not to lose it. - “Have a nice evening!” - You stormed out the restaurant, Eddie followed you and grabbed your arm gently.

“I’m really sorry about that (Y/N)...”

You fought tears back.

“Did you ever feel like an alien Eddie?” - You looked up at him.

“All the time, yeah...” - He caressed your cheek.

“It’s just... So fucking revolting when people misjudge what they don’t fully understand, when they don’t even make the smallest effort to...” - Eddie knew this better than anyone. And there she was, the huffy (Y/N) he found so cute, but with a hint of sadness , which he wanted to make disappear. - “ I’m sorry I ruined the dinner...”

“First of all, it wasn’t your fault, and who said it was ruined, huh? What about going to my place and having a douchebag-free dinner? Well, except for me!” - He watched your lips curving into a smile , only he could do that in that moment.

“You’re no douchebag!” - You nudged him and you both went to his house.

You refused to let him make the dinner alone, insisting in helping him in whatever tasks you could. Eddie was lovely when he was focused, doing his mental checklist, as you watched him in delight. He wanted things to be just perfect, he just didn’t know his presence was all that you needed for everything to be perfect.

After enjoying the meal, you both sat on the sofa, chatting over a glass of good wine. From time to time Eddie had a piece of chocolate, just to keep Venom in check. He offered you some.

“No, thanks, you’re sweet enough already, if I have more sweetness in my life right now, I’ll have diabetes.” - You giggled.

The warmth of a few glasses of wine and the depth of the conversation made you both get closer.

“But do you know what dessert I wouldn’t mind having right now?”

You moved closer, leaning in, and your lips brushed on his, your heart fluttering. He ran his fingers down your check, bringing you closer with his other hand, until there was no empty space left between you. Your arms reached up, tangling around his neck, as he pressed his tongue gently to the seam of your lips, delving inside your mouth sweetly, the second you let him.

You had imagined this moment, but it never made justice to how good it felt in reality, the warmth, the feeling spreading throughout your whole body.

Eddie kept hungrily kissing you; the way your lips felt on his , that must have been the definition of magic, it obliterated his every thought, his mind was locked in that single moment.

His hand , which was resting on your waistline, suddenly turned black, Venom decided it was time for Eddie to make the next move and touch your skin, slowly sliding under your shirt. It was warm, and slippery.

“Eddie, you’re tickling me, I can’t focus like that!” - You broke the kiss laughing and took a moment to breath, opening your eyes and resting your forehead on his.

“I’m sorry...” - He smiled, and kissed you again before you noticed his hand. He then took it off your waist, shaking it frantically , trying to make Venom understand that that was not the moment for him to step in.

He pinned you between him and the sofa, his body pressing against yours. You bit his lower lip , pulling it playfully, and he lost control, letting a low moan escape his lips.

“Eddie, that’s not the physical reaction you have when I bite people...” - Venom made a cheeky remark.

“I just love dessert, man...” - Eddie got up, lifting you and helping you wrap your legs around his waist, as he filled you with kisses on the way to te bedroom.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

“I am looking for Holland Vosijk.”

 She looked around the room, only barely holding back a sneer. There was a scratched-up entertainment center, the sort of cheap particle-board thing you buy at a discount store, with an old TV playing American football.

 How she loathed American football. 

 Three boys sitting on an ancient pea-green plaid couch that sagged in the center looked up simultaneously, identical sneers on their very different faces, only for the expressions to drop into nervous fear when they saw Marjori Dane.

 That was normal. 

 Marjori Dane had always struck fear in the hearts of men, and she liked it that way. All men but one, anyway. That one man, her brilliant mild-mannered husband-to-be, was the reason she was out here, in a small college town in Bumfuck Nowhere, Illinois, in the first place. 

 Marjori had come to collect her fiance’s wayward runaway son. 

 She had followed his trail across five states of interviewing acquaintances, picking up the occasional box of personal items he'd left behind, and on one memorable occasion, two ex-significant others (a boy and girl) who were living in the same place, may or may not have dated him simultaneously, and remembered only that he'd gotten into a pine-green van older than he was with someone named either Tim or Toby.

 "I dislike repeating myself, boys." She slid off her sunglasses, revealing narrow, feline eyes that were a startlingly bright, nearly unnatural blue against her pale skin and dark hair. Her cheekbones were set high and she knew exactly what effect her face had on men (and more than a few women). “I asked you a question.” Her voice was deep, melodic, with the vaguest hint of the accent of the land of her birth.

 “Holy shit,” One of the boys said, almost breathing out the words with a kind of awe. “Am I just high or are you taller than the doorway?”

 “It’s an old house,” Marjori replied dryly. “The doors were made shorter then, this one is only six feet tall. You are both high and I am taller than the doorway. Also, it is 11:30 in the morning, you probably should not already be high… or at least not high enough to hallucinate.”

 “What the fuck else am I going to do around here?” The boy asked, and Marjori had to admit she had no answer for that. This was the saddest place she had seen so far, and it was cold outside, with a wind that cut and bit down to the bone. None of these boys were dressed for the oncoming winter, although the baseboard heater against the wall was valiantly chugging out a kind of lukewarm air that at least held off the worst of it.

 “Whatever shortens your miserable days, I suppose,” She said, shrugging her shoulders. “I asked if you have seen Holland Vosijk.”

 “Nobody with that name crashing here,” One boy said. "Shit, what is that? French?"

 Marjori Dane's lip curled and all three boys broke out in a cold sweat. "It. Is. Not.      French.    "

 “Are… are you a fairy?” A red-haired boy asked.      

 “Am I what?”

 “Ha, Rylie, you’re high as balls,” The dark-haired one said with a grin. He was missing one of his teeth. 

 “Man, look at her,” Apparently-Rylie said. “She’s not human, dude.”

 A blond on the end, who looked a little bit like her own Athos, said, "Wait. I think he is here. Up in the attic."

 "The attic?" The redhead frowned, thoughtfully. “You think?”

 "Isn’t that guy up in the attic Hol-something? The nerd that cooks for us all the time? That might be him.” He gestured vaguely behind him, where a hallway that seemed almost to slant to one side led further back into the dilapidated, nearly-abandoned house she’d found herself in. “There’s stairs, two sets. You go up one, walk down the hall, then turn and take the other. Just keep going up ‘til you get there. If that's the guy, he sleeps up in the attic now, has for three days or so."

 "Why?" She'd seen the attic window from outside. It was busted open, there'd be no protection from the elements up there. He’d feel every inch of that awful breeze outside.

 "Because Big Shot keeps bugging him to get into his pants."

 "That's what he gets for being hot," Rylie said with a sneer.

 "Pfffft. Shut the fuck up, Big Shot doesn't care about that. Yeah, lady, he's up in the attic." She raised an eyebrow, and watched the boy swallow nervously. "I mean… yes ma'am."

(Click the link to read the rest)

[thelastspeecher]

Hello! If you are still accepting Halloween prompts, what about 2. Apple Orchard for the Reverse Portal Stanley AU? (I'm picturing what starts out as a cute bonding opportunity with Stan and his kids but turns into a fight against a shriveled apple monster XD Or just whatever your muse inspires you to write~) Or, possibly, 9. Hiking in the woods with the Pheonix Stan AU? Thank you for sharing your wonderful writing with us!

Day 01   Day 02   Day 03   Day 04   Day 05   Day 06   Day 07   Day 08Day 09   Day 10   Day 11   Day 12   Day 13   Day 14   Day 15   Day 16Day 17   Day 18   Day 19   Day 20   Day 21   Day 22   Day 23   Day 24Day 25   Day 26   Day 27   Day 28   Day 29   Day 30

8. Hiking in the woods

Here you go!  As you requested, some Phoenix Stan AU (different from the Phoenix Enchantment AU, bc in this case, only Stan gets turned phoenix, and it’s temporary), walking in the woods.  While trying to decide what to write for this, I stumbled across an ask I got, asking about if Ford would ever get turned into a phoenix.  And right then and there, I knew what this ficlet had to be about.  Enjoy.

Word count: 1353

Send me a number for a fall-themed prompt!

              “Are yousure we’re going the right way?” Ford asked. Stan rolled his eyes and shoved aside a tree branch.

              “No.  I’m not. I’m just tryin’ to look for somethin’ I recognize.”  They were wandering through the woods, tryingto find the magical object that had turned Stan into a phoenix a few monthsago.  Today was Stan’s last day inGravity Falls, before he went back to Gumption to take up his farmhand jobagain.

              “You ledme to believe that you knew where the magical item was.  But we’ve been searching for hours, and youcan’t even remember what the magical item looked like!” Ford said.  Stan coughed. A few red feathers flew out of his mouth and landed on his shirt.

              “Thesefuckin’ feathers,” Stan muttered.  “Whenis that gonna stop?”

              “If I couldexamine the magical object that transformed you, I might have an idea of that,”Ford said.

              “I know.  That’s why I agreed to try to find it again,even though I’m pretty sure you’ll just end up whammied too.  And I told you back at yer house.  I can’t remember much of what happened when Igot transformed.  My guess about wherethings are is only slightly better than yours.” Stan brushed the feathers off his shirt. He stopped walking and put his hands on his hips, surveying hissurroundings.  A chickadee landed on his shoulder.  “Aw, shit, get off!” Stan shouted.  The chickadee flew away, twitteringangrily.  “Damn birds.  I’m sick of bein’ Snow Fucking White.”

              “Again, Imight be able to predict when that side effect will wear off if-”

              “-you canexamine the magic thing, I know,” Stan replied. His eyes widened.  “Wait.  I recognize that!”  He charged into the undergrowth, crashingthrough bushes and trees.

              “Stan!”Ford called, following his twin.  For awhile, Ford couldn’t see Stan; he could only tell where Stan was by the soundof branches breaking.  Finally, hestumbled into a clearing.  Stan wasalready standing in the middle, staring at an old stump.  “Stan, did you-”

              “I foundit.”  Stan pointed at the stump.  Resting on top was a glimmering red gem.  “I’m startin’ to remember now.  I saw it, thought it looked worth a decentchunk of cash, and decided to pocket it. Big mistake.”  Ford walked overcautiously.

              “Remarkable,”Ford breathed.  Stan shifted uneasily.

              “This wasa bad idea.  I shouldn’t have showed yathis,” Stan mumbled.  He rubbed the backof his neck.  “Let’s- let’s just forgetthis happened, okay?  We should leave thestone alone.  It- it shouldn’t bedisturbed.”

              “Stanley,I think I can handle it,” Ford said with a scoff.  “I’ve been dealing with magical paraphernaliaever since I arrived in Gravity Falls.  Iknow how to be careful.”

              “That’sBS,” Stan said under his breath.  Fordscowled.  “…Whatever.”  Stan shoved his hands in his pockets.  “I’m gonna head back to your house and finishpacking.  I wanna get outta thisweird-ass town.”

              “If that’swhat you want to do, I won’t stop you,” Ford said.  He adjusted his glasses and peered closely atthe gem perched on the tree stump.  “Fascinating.  Truly, fascinating.”

—–

              A weeklater, Ford was in the clearing again with Fiddleford, scrawling down pageafter page of information on the magical stone.

              “I’m notsure what else we can uncover about this gem,” Ford said.  Fiddleford sighed.

              “Iknow.  But we can’t risk upsettin’it.  If it goes off on us like it wentoff on Stan, well…”  Ford reached slowlyfor the gem.  “Ford.”

              “I wonderif it can sense intent.  Stan wanted toremove the stone to steal and pawn it.  Imerely want to study it, learn its secrets.”

              “I don’tthink a magic rock is goin’ to distinguish between why people are tryin’ toremove it.  I think it’ll just realize it’sbein’ moved and try to defend itself.”

              “Goodpoint,” Ford muttered.  He shrugged.  “Only one way to find out!”

              “Stanford,no!”  Ford’s hand closed around the gem.  There was a flash of light.

—–

              Somethingwet landed on Ford’s head, startling him awake. He looked up.  Through a thickcanopy, he could make out cloudy sky.  Anotherraindrop landed on him, this one directly in his face.  He shook his head.

              What happened?  Why am I in a tree in a rainstorm?  He looked around.  I seemto still be in the Gravity Falls woods. Not anywhere near the clearing with the mysterious gem, unfortunately.  There was a loud crash from somewhere to hisleft.  Voices began to carry to Ford’sperch in the tree.

              “He’sover here, Fidds!”

              Stan!

              “How canya tell?”

              Fiddleford!

              “If Iknew, I’d tell ya,” Stan grunted.  Hefinally fell out of the undergrowth, landing directly at the base of Ford’stree.  He looked up.  A grin spread across his face.  “Told ya!”

              “I didn’tdoubt ya knew where he was,” Fiddleford grumbled, emerging from the bushes and joiningStan.  “I just questioned how ya knew it.”  He squinted up at the tree.  “Yer right, though.  That’s him.”

              “Stanford,come down here!” Stan called.  Fordruffled his feathers, unsure of how to get down.  He froze.

              Wait. Feathers?  Dread mounting,Ford looked down at himself.  He let outa squawk of shock and tumbled off his branch.

              “Gotcha!”  Stan grabbed Ford right before he could hitthe ground.  He set Ford downcarefully.  Ford inspected himself.  “Yep. Told ya you’d get whammied.  Butyou didn’t believe me.  Now look whathappened.  You got turned into a phoenix.  Just like I did.”

              “But I was so careful,” Ford saidwoefully.

              “Notaccording to Fiddleford,” Stan said. Fiddleford looked at Stan.

              “Notaccording to Fiddleford what?”

              “Huh?”

              “Whatwere ya respondin’ to?”

              “Fordsaid that he was bein’ careful with the gem.” Stan frowned at Fiddleford.  “Iheard him loud and clear.  Did you notunderstand?”

              “No, Ididn’t.  Just sounded like a bunch of chirps‘n squawks.”

              “Huh.  Guess bein’ turned into bird for three monthshas its upsides.”  Stan grinned crookedlyat Ford.  “Looks like you’ve got atranslator, Sixer.”

              “That’s good.  It seems like I’ll need one for theforeseeable future.”

              “Nah, youwon’t need me around that long.  Fidds isalready partway done with the cure you guys whipped up to de-phoenix me.  I mean, you were gone for a week and a half.”

              “…I was?” Ford chirped.  Stan nodded. “I- I don’t remember any ofthat.  The last thing I remember is touchingthe magical gemstone.”

              “What’she sayin’?” Fiddleford asked.

              “He sayshe doesn’t remember the last week and a half. His last memory is touching the gem.”

              “Oh.”  Fiddleford pursed his lips.  “Maybe you were in a fugue state this wholetime.”

              “Why would I suddenly come back to myself?”Ford asked.  Stan translated forFiddleford.

              “Don’task me,” Fiddleford said.  “Yer the one whatdeals in magic.  I just build robots.”

              “Maybe ithas somethin’ to do with me?” Stan said slowly. Fiddleford and Ford looked at him. “I mean, I could sense where Ford was, I can understand him.  Maybe us being twins and both of us beingaffected by the gem influenced the enchantment? Or somethin’ like that.  I dunno.”

              “No, that seems like a valid hypothesis,”Ford said.  “Don’t doubt your instincts.” Stan grinned.

              “I guesswe could try to look into the research a bit more,” Fiddleford mumbled.  “I did just fin’ly get my hands on that book ‘boutavian enchantments.  Maybe there’s somethin’in there.”

              “Oh, yes!” Ford enthused, bobbing hishead up and down excitedly.  Stanchuckled.

              “You lookgoofy as hell, Ford.  Can’t believe Ilooked like that fer as long as I did.” Stan tapped his shoulder.  “Hop onup.  We’ll head back to your place.”  Ford did as he was told, taking flight andmanaging to land on Stan’s shoulder without scratching him too badly.

              “Luckily,we still have all the stuff from when Stan was a phoenix,” Fiddleford said.  “Includin’ the food.”  Ford grimaced.

              “Oh, no. Does that mean-”

              “Youguessed it, Sixer,” Stan said cheerfully. “Bugs for dinner!”

[sirens-gemberry]

You’ve Unlocked a Cutscene from “Soren Ren-egade Sharp”!

Continue?

>Yes

No

Warnings are for the following: Blood, Violence, and slight alcoholism! Stay wary, Farmer! 

There's a couple reasons why my sister never let me into the mines. For one thing, it was really fucking cold. Like- holy shit my fingers are numb kinda cold. For another thing, I wasn't very strong. So mining was always a bit of a chore for me, compared to my impeccably strong and equally strong willed sister. 

Yet, when I found out she had gotten sick not too long after my arrival to the Valley, I took it upon myself to venture down for her. She protested briefly, and we argued about it for a good hour or two, before eventually sighing and shaking her head. “... Fine, it might help you get stronger anyway. Just stay within the first 20 floors at most, okay? Don’t forget to be home before midnight, either.” Yasmine had said to me, as her friend- and at the time crush- Harvey was preparing medication in the next room over. He was humming a tune under his breath of a song I couldn’t quite place. I nod, a determined grin on my face and the usual pep in my step as I wished my sister well and turned to head off for the task ahead of me. Yasmine’s quest was simple. Get 24 copper ores and bring them to Demetrius. Now, this particular week we were a bit short on copper, as we had been upgrading our tools for the next season. Normally my more experienced sister took on this task, but with her being basically forced to rest- that left me in charge. Despite as confident as I sounded to her, I was actually a bit nervous. After all, there were more than enough times I had seen my sister covered in bruises and bite-marks. First time I saw this, I joked that she hooked up with some dwarf in the mines, before she briefly socked my shoulder and gave me a bruise to remember. She briefly told me of her expeditions in the mines, and all of them sounded fascinating- if not terrifying. Not to mention unhealthy, as she had far too many stories of these trips for just staying a little over a year.

That was a few hours ago. Right now, I’m currently resting my head against the elevator wall, going down… down… and further down, all the way to level 20. She had floors up to level 65, and I was half tempted to challenge myself further by going down to floor 30… But I figured going 5 floors beyond her maximum requirement was more than enough to make her proud of me. I am stronger than she thought, just watch! I yawn, softly, shaking my head. I should've gotten more sleep last night. I reach into the bag, taking out an energy drink I snatched from my sister’s fridge on the way out before chugging the whole thing down. If it killed what little my immune system could deal with, eh, whatever. The bell dinged just over my head, drawing me from my thoughts as I slipped the now empty can back into my bag before trudging onward into the dark mines. Only a few lights shone overhead, and unfortunately for me, I only had a few torches. ‘If I want to be able to see well, I’ll have to carry what I have.’ I mused to myself ‘Hold the torch up, and keep pressing forward.’ So that's exactly what I did. I hum softly, occasionally setting the torch down beside me to take my pickax out and swing at a copper filled stone rock, grinning when I found a few pure pieces and sticking them into a smaller bag I brought with me for good measure. I hear a gentle squelch behind me, and I frown. ‘Monsters. Why wouldn't there be monsters?...’ I think with a dead panned expression, taking out the rusty sword my sister had given me a few days after I moved here. I figured I would use it more if some vines got in my way, but I sigh and twirl the sword in my hand before whirling around and swinging the damn thing… straight into the gut of a small, green slime. “...Oookay that looks vaguely… unpleasant.” I say to it, gently retracting the sword. I stick out my tongue with a slight groan to see some slime had stuck to it, before yelping and blocking its path when it jumped at me. “Damnit- okay you want death?! Then death comes for you!” I swing it again, harder this time, and it chops clear through the slime, yet it hardly seems phased. I sigh, and shake my head. Stupid liquid-y slime… whatever. I had to get this done, and get out.   It took a few more minutes of me aimlessly flailing about with this rusty ass sword, but the slime finally fell apart into a goofy puddle at my feet. I sigh, shifting my boots until they feel relatively normal on the ground again, and keep walking.

A lot of the trip ended up in similar escapades, mining with a slight struggle to pick up the pickax over my head, and dealing with slimes and occasionally what I referred to as ‘the rock crab’. Sure, they dropped decent loot, but it felt unnecessary. Eh, I just needed to get what I came for and dip. I had to remain focused on the task at hand, or it'd be more than likely I'd never get out of this pit. With that in mind, I kept going. So much so, that I didn’t notice I passed my original goal. Or if I did- I wanted to keep going to challenge myself further. It must have been around level 28 or so, after going through and collecting the last of the ore I needed, that I decided to head further down. Who knows, I might find something pretty for lil’ Abigail. She did mention in passing that she liked amethysts… That was… likely one of my many stupider mistakes. That list may be long, but the point still remains. It was mostly a normal room, wide and full with rocks along its edges. Monsters sat in the middle, as if waiting for my arrival. I sigh, swinging my pick until it was firmly strapped to my back, as I did with most of my tools, before drawing the sword from my side. “Alright y’pricks, I've already dealt with fuck knows how many of you lot, so let's cut to the point.” I growl to myself, eyes leveling with the group before sighing and charging forward with what burst of energy I could muster. Dodging, blocking, and slicing. I've learned better techniques with the hours I’ve been down here at this point, and I've learned to try and keep my ADD to a damned well minimum if I didn't want to get bit. Still, I take considerable damage, especially when a bunch of slime basically glued my one foot to the floor. “Oh for fucks sake-!” I swear, trying to slice away the slime as I get smacked repeatedly by the other enemies around me, and underneath my feet. Once I dislodge myself, I huff, reaching into my pocket. I didn't want to use this since, Yoba knows I have No clue how this works, but it had to be done if I wanted to finish this up rather soon. I take out a small cherry bomb, it was hardly the size of my palm but packed considerable damage. Lighting the fuse, I chucked the bomb into the crowd of monsters, before leaping back a few feet. “Fire in the- fuck you lot!” I yell, right before I cover my ears to avoid dissociating after the explosive goes off, the ground shaking slightly from the effort. I remain there for a few moments to catch my breath, and to let my over-sensitivity slowly ebb back down to functionality. A few pebbles had gotten in my hair from the small tremor the cherry bomb had caused. Once I manage to open my eyes, I see that the crowd of monsters have all but fallen apart. I sigh to myself, more in relief than anything, as I stagger back over to gather what loot can be mustered. I also shook my hair, trying to free the dirt and rocks that had collected, but to no avail. I’d need to shower when I get home.  

However, when I look up, a thin green smoke had begun pouring in. I raise my eyebrows, rubbing my eyes to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating, before coughing. Ugh, this certainly didn't seem healthy. I recall thinking about how it was getting harder to see, as it was dark down there as it was without a fog clouding the caves. I wave it off as nothing unusual, shaking my head and grabbing my pickax to look for the exit. It was then I feel something shove hard into my back, knocking me to the floor. “Ow, what the hell?!” I turn to look behind me, only to hear a distinct buzzing as something very large, and very wasp like flies right over my head. I couldn’t quite make out what exactly it was, but that’s the best description for those cream colored pricks. My pulse begins to race. If there was one thing that scared me half to death, it was wasps. Wasps, yellow jackets, the likes. Bastards stung me more times than I can count. Honey bees are little sweethearts, though… I digress. Breaking from my train of thought, I groan and wipe some blood off my face, flinching gently as a small shot of pain echos from my lip. “....I repeat, what the hell….???” I get back to my feet, facing the way the bug had originally came from, only to be shoved again from behind, knocking me back over. I swear to myself, for what must've been the upteenth time that evening, as I finally get a good look around me, holding up my torch just enough to project the light around me. My face drops in abject horror. ‘Holy hell- there must have been dozens of these things, coming from fuck knows where!’ It was after I thought that, that the whole mine descended into absolute chaos. Every time I tried to get back up, I would only get shoved back down, getting more hurt in the process as rocks scratched my cheeks, hands, legs and arms. That's not even to mention that this haze I had that was clouding the air was causing me to constantly cough and wheeze. Damn, it's times like this I hated being an asthmatic. Still, I had to force myself up. I had to just get to the ladder and get down… No, no that'd just get me killed. I had to get out of these mines, quickly. I had to get to the elevator. Covering my eyes, and using my rusty sword to block any oncoming onslaught, before opening my eyes as I charged towards the elevator’s exit. Still, I kept losing balance briefly from all the nudging and pushing; stumbling left and right until I reached and grabbed a firm hold of the edge of the elevator. “Gotcha-!” My victory is short lived, as I yelp when there’s a feeling a sharp pain going through my back. One of those wasp fuckers...they had a vicious bite, leaving me feeling drained between the throbbing pain and the likely wound that had opened as a result. I coerce myself to whip around, slicing the bug creature with what little effort I could manage, before backing up into the elevator and slamming the hilt of the sword into the top floor button. There was a distinct thud of the bugs as they slammed uselessly against the mine’s elevator- though notable dents in the metal doors leave my tension unmoving.

As the doors closed, I took a deep breath- trying to summon any energy to move. Or to, at the very least, calm the hell down. I felt it, very clearly as I slid my sword back into its little compartment in the side of my belt, the pounding of my heart that rang in my ears and left me feeling exhausted from head to toe. U g h. ‘Going beyond 25 was probably a mistake.’ ‘Going into the mines was a definite mistake, too.’ Still, I push myself to my feet once I hear the ding of the elevator, making my way outside. It was raining densely by then, and I had to keep myself from limping too badly. The sun had since mostly set, save for a gentle light that poured in from elsewhere- covered by clouds. The pain in my back was growing, and I had to stifle a whine through a stern bite to my lip. Which, quite frankly, only made me whine more from the cut there from earlier. I just wanted to go home and recuperate, however… There was still something I had to do. I had to make sure one of my friends didn't get too worried about me, after all- that’s the last thing I needed to top off the evening. Once I made it back into town, I sighed and swung my bag over, reaching through until I got some gold; putting it into a small satchel. I groan a bit from the pain still flaring from my back, but I’m honestly too afraid to survey the damage right then & there. Frankly, I probably should have, but the pain was making my head fuzzy, and out of sync with the rest of me. I’ll deal with it at home later, before Harvey notices. If he's even still with Yasmine, that is. At least, that’s the hope for the rest of this evening. With that thought in mind, I sigh, bracing myself for some sort of inevitability as I limp my way into the Stardrop Saloon.

The usual scene greets me when I walk inside. A few waves and a quiet laugh, though it does fall eerily quiet rather quickly once everyone seems to notice the state I’m in. Beaten to shit, and by then dripping from the rain. I wring out my shirt just a slight bit, before meandering over to the bars counter. Gus waves from the counter but immediately hesitates- likely noticing the bruises starting to flower along my face- not to mention the cuts I can feel pulsating along my cheeks and nose. He looks, wanting to ask… But says nothing as I sit briefly on one of the bar stools, setting the satchel onto the counter. “The usual, please Gus.” I mutter quietly, as is the usual routine I've done each week since I've moved here. He nods, looking back to Emily- who knew my order down pat by then. She turns to smile widely at me, before gasping. Damnit. “What happened?!” “Ah, got into a bit of a tousle. Don't worry about it, I’ll be good tomorrow.” I shrug off the concern with a lighthearted laugh, even if the fatigue was showing in my tone. Gus seemed to want to drop it, as if he could see the desperation of not wanting anyone else's concern on the matter in my eyes, but Emily persisted. “Soren, at least let me clean off your cheeks, your bleeding-!” She sighs, taking a spare cloth in her hand and reaching over the counter to dab at my face. My nose reflexively scrunches against my face, but I don't bother moving my head out of the way. “Emily..” I sigh to myself, gently pushing her off me once she's finished with my face. “I'm alright. Don't worry. Plus, I already told you-” I give a jokingly goofy grin, “You can call me Ren.” I reassure her, as she gives me a very concerned look through the tangled mass of electric blue hair. “...Okay… But be careful, okay? I don't need you getting hurt.” She demanded, pointing sternly to me. I defensively raise my hands up jokingly with a laugh, but nod all the same. My thoughts swim briefly between trying not to focus on the pain gently pulsating from my spine, and the dizzying feeling from probably being more exhausted than I gave myself credit for. “I’ll be careful, don't worry.” I say after a few minutes, as she turns away to work on my order. She turns back to me, handing me the glasses as she leans closer, whispering gently in my ear. “...You're gonna scare the crap out of him, you know.” She said, raising an eyebrow her eyes flickering over towards the other side of the bar, “I know you've been trying to at least befriend him but..” My eyes follow briefly, before I give a slight shrug. It wasn’t that big of a deal. “I've got it under control, Em. It's chill.” I smile reassuringly, getting up off my stool with both glasses in hand, before strolling over towards the fireplace and leaning against the brick right next to it. I smirk a bit, noticing that Shane- the same person I've been stubbornly trying to befriend for a few months now- has been spacing out into the mug he was drinking out of. I nudge him gently with one of the mugs I offer to him, and he snaps out of it rather quickly. “Hey, what gi-” He stops in what he says, blinking a bit out of probably buzzed confusion. It takes a moment, before finally taking a look at my state before rolling his eyes, relaxing just a slight bit. “Okay, what the hell did you do?” He said as he snatched the mug from my hand, setting the empty one aside in place of drinking the one I had given. I shrug my shoulders, staring at the foam bubbling out of my cup. “Ah, just spent a little too long in th’ pits of hell itself.” I joke, winking playfully. He scoffs. “Why do you still even bother to joke around with me and act like we’re friends?” He grumbled, and I smiled with a bold determination set in my expression. “Since I think you're probably super nice, I mean... beyond that rude shell of yours.” I respond with confidence, despite the uncertainty that lingered in my mind. What I usually expect was a scoff, or a roll of the eyes, or some other dismissive gesture, but instead he laughs. Not at me, for once, but what I had said. I was more-so used to it, from other people in my life. I can be a bit of a joke, that I knew. “Soren, you are a different kind of naive.” He replies with between chuckles as he settled down, taking another hearty drink until the mug was empty. I did the same, leaning back further until I was sitting down. ‘Yeah, I know that, too.’ I refused to voice my thoughts aloud, though, instead crossing my arms. “Maybe so. But hey, it's worth a shot, innit?” I smile, less bold but with a slight softness to it. I was growing weary, eyes fluttering as my body tried to force sleep. I could tell, from the silence that took over for a few moments, that he was debating on whether or not he was going to actually question all the cuts along what he could see. He must have settled on not bothering, sighing and shaking his head. “Whatever you say, kid.” He muttered, to which I pout, just a bit. “I’m not a kid!” I immediately protest, arms flinging out just a bit in overzealous expression. “You're like 4’5”. You're a kid.” “4’10”, first off, secondly I’ll fight you, mister!” I let my offence fade, giving a mischievous smirk, and putting my fists up jokingly. He shakes his head a bit. He tended to do that a lot around me. What can I say? I specialized in being a bother, and an annoyance. I’ve come to accept that.   “You would be knocked out in one hit for starters, missy, even if you weren't beaten to shit.” Shane replies, sighing as I shake my head to dismiss the remark. “Oh whatever!” He hides his amusement behind a slight smile as I go to get up, my stance slightly wobbly. Jeez, did the alcohol already get to me?... However, it was after a few steps that I get an answer. I heard a gasp right behind me. “Holy shit, Soren!-” I look back, confused, as he gets up and shakes his head, “Your back, Soren.” “Huh?” I raise an eyebrow, more curious than before, and reach behind me. A damp warmth takes my hand as I make the grave mistake to check, only to find the darkened crimson shade of blood staining my palm. My eyes widen, with a sick nausea briefly twisting my stomach. “Oh fuck.” “You should get that seen, and maybe fast. That looks pretty bad...” “No, No it's fine. I can fix this myself. I’ve taken scouts, I know how to patch this up. I just...need to head home.” I reassure with a smile. Shane doesn't seem to buy it, and goes to quickly object, but before he even could I had walked right out- hellbent on not letting Yasmine or Harvey know about this particular incident.

“I can fix this myself… I can fix this myself.” I reassure myself as I start walking home, not even listening to see if Shane has followed me. I had to keep pressing forward, it wasn’t an option to let Yasmine or Harvey know. So I kept saying that, just to myself, almost like a mantra. Before I could even feel it through, a wave of vertigo made me trip and fall- and wouldn't you know it? My head slams right into a rock. 

Man, my luck couldn't have been worse today. I saw stars, briefly, with pain shooting through my whole body between the damage dealt earlier, and the striking new pain blooming from the side of my head.  Either way, it instantly rendered my mind unconscious as the blood loss takes hold, some sort’ve muffled groan dying on my lips as it passes. 

[tylerwritez]

Monday June 28

Morning update:

Oh my god.

I was packing my stuff for the big move after my parents divorce and I found an old prayer thingy.

It said:

"Dear Jesus,

Thank you for the music and the trees and my friends and family, and for the time to really look around the world with colorful skies that are so beautiful, the whole world is beautful and in balance and natural and that is how I'm gonna be. I dont want this to be a temporary, spur of the moment thing. I understand now. I realize that it's not the world that's ugly, but the sin that plagues it. I understand what He wants now. I'm sorry, God. I'm sorry, Jesus. I know I'll go to hell no matter what I do but I might as well try to live a holy life.

I understand.

But then, why all these STRONG feeling? Please, you gotta help me through that.

He made us to serve him. I understand that. Give me the strength to serve you, please. I'm so weak.

Sincerely,

Jude"

I felt so angry cos of it. Once I saw all that shit about "serving Him" I immediately ripped it up in RAGE, just blind rage.

I was just a fuCKING CHILD. HOW COULD THEY DO THAT TO ME???

8:50 p.m. update: HOLY SHIT OUCH ON MY WAY HOME I HIT A SIGNPOST COS I WASNT PAYING ATTENTION AND IT RAMMED THE HANDLEBAR OF MY BIKE RIGHT INTO MY DICK JESUS CHRIST IT HURTS GODDAMN

12:38 a.m. update:

Okay so you maybe noticed that today's entries arent really organized and that's cos I've been BUSYyyy

I'm gonna add Litten the pokemon to my kinlist also Piplup

Anyways today I went out with my friends. My dad was mad at me cos my room was all messy cos I'M PACKING MY STUFF TO MOVE?? idk what he expected my room to look like. So anwyays I left the house, me and Erin and Elle, who I'll now be calling Eden because its weird to keep using Elle for reaosns I wont describe...me and Erin and Elle went to the library and I checked out some mangas. I checked out volumes 1-2 of , , and volume 1 of

Then we went to Safeway cos it was too hot to be outside and it was another place with free A/C that was nearby. I stole some Stevia and probably other stuff that I can't recall right now.

We ate sugar cookies (those nice crumbly processed ones with icing on top) at the park, then I went home for supper.

After that i met them at the park and we biked to this Ravine area with like trees and water and a bridge and shit and we were looking for Hagstones which are rocks in the water that get holes worn into them. It's for protection from Jordan's hexes.

We found loads of nasty bugs... but no hagstones. Also the thornbushes scratched up my legs, the bugs bit me up, and the water was sorta nasty and I went on hands and knees in it looking for those rocks XD.

I had fun but it was quite uncomfortable with all the HEAT and bugs.

I got home then and idk not much happened.

I've been eating fruit instead of my usual snack foods and i think its helpful.

1:06 a.m. update:

... I feel like I'm going to cry.

I saw a post about families and now I'm upset because I... I see this shit and I feel like I'm 10 or younger even... all over again. It all comes back to me. The reason I cry at night so often... the reaosn I cant tell reality from shit my brain made up. The reaosn i need therapy and the reason i feel so TORTURED AND IN PAIN...

All I ever needed as a child was love and support and I didnt fucking get that so now any posts about happy families make me feel sad. Especially if they have a kid who is "difficult" in some way... like how I was... who still gets treated well.

Fuck man. I wasnt difficult, I had emotions. I wasnt difficult, I needed extra help. I wasnt difficult, I was trans.

I WASNT DIFFICULT... I DIDNT DESERVE TO BE ABANDONED THE WAY I WAS. holy shit. I was just a child like any other. Literally all I needed was love and support.

Fuck my parents. Now I feel like I've missed out on like... a whole childhood... as myself. Instead I spent it being who you wanted me to be to avoid your wrath.

I'm so sad.

And its cos you saw a fucking child telling you he was in pain and punished him.

I was so young.

Jay keeps misgendering me... he just referred to me as my father's daughter. OH MY GOD... I GET IT! I UNDERSTAND! I GET IT. I DON'T PASS. I GET IT, I LOOK LIKE A GIRL... I GET IT, YOU'VE SEEN ME NAKED. I UNDERSTAND.... I understand that your mind doesn't see me as male... but please. PleAse make some fucking effort. please. cos it actually hurts me to be misgendered cis people could never understand. Fuck man, cis people could never undertsand the shit we go through and I feel upset now because no matter how well intentioned he is... he just doesnt seem to Get It.... or like..I DONT KNOW! IS HE EVEN TRYING?

Like. No matter what I look like, I'm still a guy. I'm no ones daughter.

Sorry. I know I'm being rude about this and I should have more patience.

I'm just sort of upset. Why can't he see me?

Fuck man, NOBODY can see me. I'll never be seen. Cos this isn't fucking me but it never will be.

I hate this. So much. I want to RIP OFF ALL MY FLESH. WHY HAVE I GOTTA BE BORN THIS WAY HOLY FUCK HOLY SHIT WHY CAN'T I JUST BE FUCKING NORMAL GODDAMN IT I HATE THIS I HATE THIS I HATE THIS I HATE THIS FUCK GOD I HATE GOD FUCK GOD ILL KILL GOD IF I EVER FLOAT UP TO HEAVEN IM GOING TO LITERSLLY FUCKING KILL GOD ILL CLAW MY WAY UP FROM HELL TO KILL THAT MOTHERFUCKER FOR DOING THIS TO ME

LIKE HOLY SHIT MY CHEST??? HAS JUST GOT THIS STUFF ON IT AND ITS MAKINF ME SO UNCOMFORTABLE I WANT TO PERFORM SURGERY ON MY OWN SELF.

3:30 a.m. update:

Oh btw one of my friends says their friend had a crush on me in junior high 👀

Idk man its fukcing 3 30 I'm just on my phone. Soon l get off, piss and sleep.

Total calorie intake today was 979 cals.

Goodnight

[gweyson]

how much would u hate me if i asked u to do every single uncommon question for an oc of ur choice?

the absolute madman he actually did it

im gonna put this under the cut sdjkfhsdjfsjkl also im answering for pascal because. Thats My Boy

1. What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

he’s gotten really good at it since he had to start hiding from murder robots... but even before then he was never a super fidgety person so he could sit very still !

2. How easy is it for your character to laugh?

he’s good at pretending everything’s fine when it’s all actually Rather Shit so. yeah pretty easy

3. How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

thinking mostly.... sometimes he’ll talk to someone and drift off from there but it depends on who’s on lookout or how quiet the group has to stay

4. How easy is it to earn their trust?

he tries to remain suspicious of people he meets but at heart he’s too trusting for his own good tbh.... he does try to hold off on trusting stangers these days but hes still a little soft

5. How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

yeah pretty easy. like it’s easy enough to get him to trust you in the first place but once you do something to fuck that up then good luck getting it back lmao

6. Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?

laws arent really. a thing anymore djkfhdljk but when they were he’d like... say laws are immovable and very needed and then do stuff that completely contradicted that view

7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

cooking !! it reminds him of when he used to help his mum out with houseowrk/cooking. he. doesnt really like the feeling because it reminds him that he has no idea if his family is actually still alive or not :(

8. What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child

“stop playing in the dirt”

9. Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?

he doesnt swear heaps but he does enough that it’s not super shocking whenever he does. he sweras more the angrier/more agitated he gets

10. What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

he’d regularly lie to his mum just so he could get out of the house and go to parties lol. he’s not super haunted by it or anything (& he was a pretty good kid otherwise so he figures he was allowed at least this one not great thing)

11. How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

he’ll try to play along until he can figure stuff out but if he cant he’ll just go “what tf is happening”

12. How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?

either gets someone to scratch it or uses like. a ruler or smth

13. What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

he thinks he looks best in green but it’s... not his best colour

14. What animal do they fear most?

big dogs... scarey :(

15. How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

he usually just says whatever comes to his mind tbh. idk how to properly descrive it but like... the way he talks makes him sound smart but not arrogant about it yknow. like you hear him talk and youre like “yeah this is a guy who knows what hes doing”

16. What makes their stomach turn?

not much tbh?? like before everything turned Awful he was studying forensic entomology so like. hes got a bit of an iron stomach lmao. the smell of rotting meat maybe

17. Are they easily embarrassed?

not really? if he does get embarrassed he’s pretty decent at hiding it

18. What embarrasses them?

when he’s the centre of attention in a big group and he can feel everyone staring at him and his face goes all red and aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAA

19. What is their favorite number?

7 !!

20. If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?

he’d go on a really long tangent about it and possibly not even answer the question at hand tbh

21. Why do they get up in the morning? 

to not die, mostly

22. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)? 

he’ll become pretty aloof and just. not wanna talk. he’ll avoid the target of jealousy a bit as well oops

23. How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)? 

he’ll do everything in his power to one-up whatever’s making him envious. it rarely works

24. Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom? 

he is comfortable talking about it !! really the only thing that ever stops him talking about it is if someone else is uncomfortable with it

25. What are their thoughts on marriage? 

he likes the idea ! if he does get married though he wants to do it wayyyyy in the future he’s not ready to settle down

26. What is their preferred mode of transportation? 

before everything went shit he preferred driving, now he walks everywhere

27. What causes them to feel dread?

robots. or when astrid is pissed

28. Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth? 

he says he’d prefer an unpleasant truth but when it actually comes time to deal with it he doesnt go too great lol

29. Do they usually live up to their own ideals? 

he tries... whether he succeeds is another question 

30. Who do they most regret meeting? 

[redacted for spoilers]

31. Who are they the most glad to have met? 

astrid !! as much as he loves everyine else in the group she’s the only one who could realistically protect him if something were to go wrong. shes just more secure

32. Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke? 

not really ??

33. Could they be considered lazy? 

nah not really !! he’s always been a hard worker

34. How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt? 

it follows him around for a loooooong time. whether it goes away or just fades into background noise really depends on the situation but it’s not easy for him

35. How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive? 

he always tries to be supportive !! unless it’s something like. morally disgusting then No but he tries to support his friends even if he thinks whateber theyre talking about is kinda dumb

36. Do they actively seek romance, or do they wait for it to fall into their lap? 

he just kinda waits it out !! when the world was Not Shit his friends would be regularly trying to set him up with people so he never had to work super hard for it :’)

37. Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)? 

i cant remember the name for it but he does the thing where like. he’ll associate thing a with thing b by finding something that connects them togehter? like a syllable in thing a sounds like thing b so. yeah. im good at explaining

38. What memory do they revisit the most often? 

either when astrid helped him bust out of the factory he was trapped working in or just miscellaneous memories of his mum & siblings

39. How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people? 

he tends to ignore people’s flaws which can lead to issues

40. How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

he tries to be self critical but he’s not really self critical enough for it to make a solid difference. usually he has to be told what he’s doing before he consciously realises it

41. How do they feel about children? 

he likes them !! he was the oldest of a lot of siblings so he knows how to handle them & he’s pretty good with them

42. How badly do they want to reach their end goal?

his end goal is to stop robots killing everything & for everything to go back to normal so id say he wants that pretty fuckin bad

43. If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so?

“hey pascal are you into--” “yes”

QUESTIONS FOR CREATORS (I wasnt sure if you wanted me to do these ones too so. shrug emoji)

A) Why are you excited about this character?

i made him for my comic which. i will start one day fdklgjdlkjgd..... also hes just fun to develop ! i gave him a bunch of traits i rlly like and also i made him like bugs a lot so. i am biased

B) What inspired you to create them?

uh. needed characters for the comic hehe.....i cant remember the exact process i went thru when making him?? i wanted someone who was close to astrid/who she could trust, plus i had the idea for a backstory (i think. like i said i cant remember my exact process)

C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?

not really, i came up with the concept before i actually made his character

D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

he’s always had the same appearance !! even though i should probably change it a little because he looks different every time i try drawing him but shhhhh

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

hes someone i would think is super cool but then. would never actually talk to jkdsfhsdjkhfsdjk. he’d be nice to my face but i’m....not sure what he’d genuinely think of me oops

F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

THATS MY FACKING BOY BABEYEYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also excited bc i have angst planned ^____^

G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

he’s too gullible and willing to trust strangers. he should know better but he’s too much of an optimist for his own good !!

H) What trait do you admire most?

he’s always able to put on a happy face when he’s feeling awful because he doesnt want anyone to worry & he doesnt wanna bring anyone down !! he’s always thinking ahout everyone else before himself

I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?

i dont know what this means..... yes??

J) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character?

uhh technically not ?? in his original concept he was gonna be in a poly relationship with 2 others but i cut the other members of the relationship. not because of pascal it’s because i thought the group would get too big and like. they value stealth and sneakiness. plus it’s harder for big groups to travel undetected