#my laptop went in sleep mode twice while i was writing this

[catscidr]

Hallo... can I get some fluff for akademiya dottore where he, fem!reader, and a couple others are on an expedition and eventually dottore finds himself falling for reader cuz they share like all the same interests... 😊 eventually he confesses to reader and reader accepts happily. smiles :)

i. note — if akademiya dottore has ten lovers, i am one of them. if akademiya dottore has one lover, that's me. if akademiya dottore has zero lovers, i am dead. (๑•̀ㅂ•́)ง✧ also i meant to finish this like a week ago but shit happened n then i was bleeding in yamcha pose™ in my bed........ My Apologies ii. includes — akademiya era dottore (zandik), fem!reader and a very special friend :) iii. warnings — nothing but friendly banter and tooth rotting fluff amen. also not proofread we die like [redacted] iv. wc — 3,2k -> also on ao3 if u prefer to read fics there

You wish you had slammed your door shut the second you saw who was on the other side earlier today. Instead of having a relaxing, free day, you were out on a hike with people whom you were acquainted with at best and with one of the biggest enigmas in the Akademiya, Zandik. If it wasn’t for your curiosity and deep yearning for an answer as to why he sought you out specifically to go out on an expedition, you wouldn’t have accepted— but alas. Here you were, sweating your body mass away in the humid, sticky weather of Sumeru. 

The group only got to the other side of the bridge leading out of the city, right after passing through an old tree trunk serving as a makeshift overpass, when you had to take a break. It wasn’t your fault you weren’t used to walking for long periods of time; being a Rtawahist student meant you didn’t need to go outside of the city as much as other darshans. You weren’t the only one that held that sentiment though, so you all (thankfully) took a brief moment of respite before heading on. 

You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t enjoy the scenery at least a little bit. Even though your arm was starting to get sore from shielding your eyes from the bright sun, the flora almost made it worth it. The air felt crisp on your skin and in your lungs, the distant sound of a flowing waterfall was washing away the tension in your shoulders, and you started to think that maybe you should spend more time outside. Watching the water near the mystic domain in the area of Chatrakam Cave, you start to ponder if it would be worth it to go for a dip to cool off while everyone else discusses where to go next... 

“Hey.” 

An impatient voice rips a yelp out of you, pulling you right out of your daydreams. Minty hair obscures the sun, giving your arm a much-appreciated break from shielding your eyes. “We have places to be, you know. Are you ready to go or do I have to leave you out here for eremites to rob you?” 

Blinking away the initial shock, you scoff at your schoolmate’s bluntness and drag yourself up to your feet. “And you wonder why you don’t have any friends,” you huff under your breath, patting away any dirt that had stuck to your uniform. Zandik rolls his eyes and frowns, sharp canines looking more akin to a puppy’s maw than a shark’s. “I don’t wonder why I don’t have any friends, mind you. I already know why I don’t have any,” he retorts, turning away from you to walk away. You grumble ‘sure you do’ quietly under your breath before catching up to him, glancing at the others in your group. “Guys, wait for us!” 

You watch them begin to walk along the left side of the intersection and go to follow them before the aforementioned boy grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “Where do you think you’re going? You’re supposed to follow me. Or did you forget who invited you in the first place?” Yeesh, talk about a short fuse. Being (mostly) used to his sharp remarks, you manage to push down the urge to bite the bait he had laid out for you. “I mean, it’s not like you told me where we would be going or why I’m here. Besides, aren’t we supposed to stay grouped up? Professors have always warned us about Rishboland Tigers roaming outside the-” Zandik cut you off by tugging you towards him, away from the group of students. 

“The stuff I need is over this way,” he said quietly. Irritation seeped through his pores, though for what reason you didn’t know. Wriggling your wrist out of his (lax) grip, you pick up your pace just enough to catch up to his long legs. The cliff to your left provided some nice shade, but the more he led the way the more he picked up the pace. You didn’t even have time to ask about your schoolmates— though it seemed like they were fine with you two splitting up from the group, anyways. 

“Stop going so fast! Hey- what's up with you all of the sudden?!” 

You place a hand on his shoulder in a poor attempt to stop his run for answers. Zandik shushes you with a harsh glare and his index to his mouth, earning himself a baffled expression from you. “What is your problem today?” you hiss, voice quieter than before. Too busy glaring holes into the back of his head, you fail to see the focused and starry eyes your friend had as he looked ahead. He stops walking abruptly, making you bump into him with an elegant ow fuck! Your face had met his nape, minty hair tickling your forehead as you step back to rub the ache away from your nose. 

“I don’t feel like playing charades, Zandik. Seriously, what’s up with y-” he hushes you with a hand motion, frustration boiling in your gut. Ready to give him a piece of your mind, you step to the side to stand next to him; what you didn’t expect to see a few feet in front of him were sentient mushrooms— fungi, hopping and playing around a cluster of ores. 

“...they look like matsutake,” you whisper, glancing at Zandik to catch a glimpse of his face. He crouches down and you follow suit, silently observing the fungi alongside him. There were three in total; they all seemed to be standing still, occasionally... wriggling in place, a dim green light emanating from their thick stems. “Are they feeding on the iron?” you murmur, dumbfounded. Since when did mushrooms eat rocks? 

“They’re absorbing nutrients from the ground. It just so happens that there are an abundance of it around ore clusters,” Zandik explained, the lack of condescension in his tone puzzling you. “How do you know that? You’re not an Amurta student.” Though you couldn’t deny that seeing the fungi in their natural habitat was captivating, even if they were still just living mushrooms. 

The boy exhales sharply, “I don’t care for the fungi themselves. It’s because—” leaves rustle, making him pause his sentence to look around, checking if anyone was listening. When the coast is clear he continues, “they’re... related to ley lines.” You peel your gaze away from the sentient vegetables to look at your friend with a look that clearly displayed your confusion. As the cogs turned in your brain though, you start to piece things together and come up to your own hypothesis about his claim. 

“That makes... sense. They’re part of the forest, so it would make sense if they were extensions of ley lines since they’re kind of like roots...” you mutter your train of thoughts out loud, grabbing a stray stick to draw on the ground. Your sketch was... lackluster, but it got the point across. “Trees are rooted to the ground, and mushrooms grow on trees or around them—” you point at the messy “drawing” of a fungi you just made, “but if they gain some elemental energy from nearby ley lines, then they’ll become sentient!” 

As you exclaim your new discovery, your eyes meet Zandik’s carmine ones— and your face flushes once you realize he had been staring at you this whole time. A choked noise of surprise rips itself out of your throat, the noise startling the fungi nearby, making them scurry away further along the dirt path. He smacks your head, “I told you to be quiet!” 

You don’t have time to protest because a horde of fungi run up to you— so many of them that you couldn’t even take the time to count. A string of curses fly out of Zandik’s mouth, and as he scrambles to get up, he grabs your wrist, pulling you up to your feet to run. “They look harmless, but they can seriously injure you if they’re in a group— book it!” he shouts, jumping up on a moss-covered rock, climbing up on the hill going around the path blocked off by the fungi. He helps you up quickly and you both make a dash for it, in the hopes that they’ll stop coming after you. 

You’re grateful that the sun had started to set before you and Zandik got ambushed, at the very least. The sky had turned a beautiful shade of indigo, orange and pink dotting the horizon and the clouds above. Without the sun sapping away at your energy you were able to get away scot-free and enjoy a breathtaking sunset; you hadn’t even noticed that Zandik was leading you somewhere, too engrossed in the familiar sight of the sky you had gazed into so many times. 

“Look over there,” he places a hand on your shoulder to grab your attention and you look as he points to a small group of fungi. Their shape looked more like drills than mushrooms, and they definitely lacked the “natural” camouflage that their other skin had, since they were white and periwinkle, and not dirt brown. A quiet woah leaves you as you look at them, brain working overtime once again. Zandik walks with you, slowly, away from the fungi before you can get attacked again. 

You begin to ramble about your theories to Zandik when you’re both far enough from the living vegetables, making grand, expressive gestures with your hands to emphasize your thoughts. The sound of your shoes crunching the grass beneath your feet, crickets chirping and the gentle evening breeze rustling the verdure around sound distant compared to the sound of your voice enthusiastically talking about the creatures you encountered. He absentmindedly scolds himself, wishing he had dragged you out of your dorm room earlier. 

“Nara Zandik!” a voice says from behind him. 

“Fucking Archons-” his head whips around to gawk at the culprit; a small, cyan colored mushroom creature. Completely oblivious to the newcomer, you halt your steps to look at Zandik’s mortified expression. “Why’d you stop?” 

The boy’s attention is torn between you and Ararycan, head spinning. Based on your reaction (or lack thereof), you couldn’t see it; which brought up the question. Should he tell you the truth— that there’s currently a “friendly” sentient mushroom right beside you, or should he lie through his teeth and say- 

“N-Nothing. Just keep going, I’ll catch up. I have, uh... a stomachache.” 

Zandik has never been a good liar, but deciding to spare him the embarrassment, you nod. “Alright. Shout if you need me!” You walk off, looking over the hill to admire the large trees below, more akin to giant lotus plant leaves than actual trees. Your form retreats far enough that Zandik’s sure you won’t hear him if he whispers. 

He looks down at the aranara, panicked red eyes meeting oblivious, beady black orbs and a smile that never faltered. “Why did you show up now?” Ararycan dismissed the harsh tone in which the boy spoke (or didn’t understand it); it didn’t care either way. The creature brimmed with optimism. “Nara Zandik should say what’s on his mind!” it says, little arms waving up and down. “The forest is happy, iron chunks are asleep, and the sky is bright! Why is Nara Zandik scared?” 

His brows furrow, lips curling into a pout as he murmurs, “I’m not scared.” The aranara blinks at him, still smiling- waiting. “I’m not,” he repeats, “it’s just... argh, what do I do? Why is my head so...” “Fuzzy?” Ararycan finishes, tilting its bulbous head to the side, the leaves on its head flopping over. Zandik grumbles, hands coming up to cover his face 

“Is the strange Nara nice?” it asks curiously, turning to look at your figure sitting on the hill a few meters away. You lean over carefully, observing the signs of life below; lanterns made from sticks and leaves, dirt paths separating in a multitude of directions and a small, round house with large leaves serving as a roof. Why you had never seen anything like this was a mystery to you, but you figured you’d just pester Zandik about it later since he was the one to bring you here. 

Zandik looks back down at his friend, his expression having softened from just a few moments ago. “Yeah. That’s why I’m being... stupid. What do I say?” 

Ararycan uses its tiny legs to turn back to look at the flustered boy, black eyes focused on scanning his face. “Talk to her about the sky!” it finally says enthusiastically, walking away before the boy can get a word in. “Hey-!” Little noises echo in the same rhythm as its footsteps, but right as Zandik turns around to ask something, the creature jumps up and disappears into the ground. A frustrated groan leaves Zandik’s gritted teeth, having resigned himself to the “advice” the aranara gave him. 

You hear light footsteps behind you, drowning out the noise of your thoughts as you look back to see Zandik grimacing at you. Or not— his eyes weren’t focused on you, but you happened to be in his line of sight, which made it look like he was judging you heavily. Giggling at him, you pat the grass next to you and shuffle away to give him some space. 

“Feeling better?” He remembers the excuse he gave you and cringes internally as he sits down, body stiff and awkward. “Yeah. Sure. Listen, uh...” Zandik trails off, losing his words. He sheepishly fiddles with the scarf draped over his shoulders, ears reddening the longer he stalls. You nudge his side with your elbow, “Did your stomachache affect your cognitive functions or something?” 

The comment slides off of him as if it were water and he was made up of extra virgin olive oil. What did Ararycan say? Talk about the sky... 

“Hey, can’t you see the stars clearly from here?” he manages to say, glancing up to look at the streaks of white in the welkin. You follow suit, mouth agape when you realize that you can, and the sky is so clear that you can see smudges of different colors in the sky. The navy backdrop was covered in soft shades of purple and blue, stars glistening so softly it was as if someone had gently and strategically placed them there. 

“Woah...” you whisper, your eyes sparkling just as brightly as the constellations. You point out the ones you recognize, eager to talk about your field of expertise. "This one right there is called Leptailurus Cervarius, it looks like a cat!” He leans over to look at where you pointed at and there it was, a small cluster of six stars. He couldn’t say that he saw the cat you spoke of, but he didn’t want to bum you out either. 

“It looks like it’s jumping,” he mutters. You turn to face him with a smile on your face, one that rivaled the brightness of the stars above your heads. He thought his heart would jump out of his chest and into your lap— but even then, he didn’t particularly mind if it did. “It is!” You nod quickly, pointing out more constellations with names he wasn’t even sure he would remember the next day. But he wanted to know more, to listen to you talk about the galaxy so much that he could be a Rtawahist student, too. 

You soon begin to grow drowsy, having spent most of your energy talking Zandik’s ear off (not to mention the sprint from earlier). As you wobble, struggling to hold yourself up, Zandik gently takes ahold of your head and places it on his shoulder. The fabric of his uniform felt comfortable, earning him a small smile from you. His mind drifts away for a moment— his heart clenched in his chest as he thought back to all the time he spent with you. 

From your roaring arguments about trivial matters to info dumping on each other, Zandik couldn’t help but wish you’d make more memories with him. Maybe it was selfish, but he didn’t like picturing someone else leaning their shoulder for you to doze off on. If he could be your pillow forever, he would take up the job in a heartbeat. 

...What? 

You jolt awake, surprised by Zandik’s sudden movement. He straightened his back, clearing his throat awkwardly. Thankfully there were any creatures around, or else you two would have gotten mauled already. 

“We should get back.” The suggestion draws a groan out of you as you stretch your arms over your head, flopping back onto the grass. It was slightly cold and soft enough to relax your limbs once again, sleep pawing at you desperately, “It’s nice here though.” 

Zandik pushes away whatever indecent thought had begun to brew in his head from seeing you laid on your back next to him. He carefully grabs the hem of your skirt and brings it down to cover your legs as he speaks, “You’ll catch a cold. Come on, we have to go.” 

You blow a raspberry at him, turning away. “Maybe you will but I won’t. I’m strong, I can easily fight off a measly cold,” and you flex an arm to prove your point. It doesn’t convince him in the slightest, and he pulls you up to your feet with him. You decide not to point out the way he struggled ever so slightly— he definitely wasn’t hiding any beefy muscles under his uniform. 

“Okay fine we’re going,” you huff while dusting off your skirt, “but you owe me!” 

“Owe you what? I’m not the bad guy here.” 

“Uh... a drink. You’re paying for my caffeine next time we go out,” you say, and Zandik rolls his eyes. Very typical of an Akademiya student. 

“Fine. It’s a date.” 

You nod quickly, eager to get a tasty drink and to save a handful of mora the next time you go out. Of course it’s not like drinks were that expensive in Sumeru, but it feels nice to be treated every once in a while- 

“A date?!” 

Some birds fly away in fear from the sheer shock your voice carried out. You gape at Zandik, cheeks flushed brightly and eyes wide like saucers. “Yeah. A date,” he repeats nonchalantly, a stark contrast from the way he was acting just shy of an hour ago. Gone was the nervous wreck that was Zandik. 

“If you don’t want a free drink, you can always refuse,” he teases, nudging you with his elbow in the same way you did with him when you were sitting on the hill overseeing the lotus leaf trees. You scoff, then shake your head, and scoff again in pure disbelief. You were stunned; dumbfounded, even. But the idea of a date didn’t sound as unappealing as you made it out to be. 

You glance away from him and mumble your answer. “What was that? I didn’t hear y-” 

“Fine, it’s a date!” 

He looks at you with a boyish grin, making your heart skip a beat. Was he always this handsome? The moonlight made his hair look ethereal, glowing almost pure white where the light shone directly on it. And his eyes— they looked irresistible. Crimson red orbs appearing to have more of a pink hue to them, though you weren’t sure if that was just your imagination. 

Zandik grabs ahold of your hand and matches his steps with yours as you make your way down the hill, back to where you found the familiar dirt path you had walked on when the sun still shone brightly in the sky. As you get closer to flat ground you notice a small horde of mushroom-shaped... mushrooms, and get hit by a wave of déjà-vu. Although asleep, the fungi were blocking the path back. 

“...How are we supposed to get back?” 

[fuckingfuckityfuck]

Professor

A/N : I will never ever forget this gif.It lives on my mind rent free so I decided to write something about it.My first ever complete smut so forgive me if there are a couple of mistakes.Practice makes perfect.

Warning/s : S M U T

Pairing : Professor Negan x reader

You are running late to your first class of the day get.You wished you had waken up at least 10 minutes earlier so you could've taken a bath.But the odds aren't in your favor today.Of all the days you could be late,why does it had to be today?

Professor Negan isn't someone to toy with.Especially with how serious he takes his class.That is why he's your favorite of them all.Being hot and attractive as hell is just a bonus for you.

You cursed and cursed as you stumble through a crowd of students.God,you wished that time would pause and let you breathe for a moment.Your knees still feel weak even after having a good night sleep.

A few students came out of the bathroom and you hastily come inside.Putting your bag beside the sink,you look at yourself at the mirror.Despite trying to brush your hair earlier while walking,it looked like a bird's nest.It was everywhere.Your cheeks are red from the adrenaline rush.In short,you looked like someone who just had sex.

You grabbed your make-up pouch and applied a thin layer of make-up,trying to look decent and not just some whore who got her brains fucked last night.

You wanted to impress him.You sure did got his attention when you raised your hand and volunteered to do the presentation.But here you are,already 5 minutes late to his class.With one last look,you looked pretty good.You just hoped that the skirt would do the trick.

You knocked twice,trying to be polite and not wanting to embarrass yourself more by just stepping in.You heard shuffling inside and the door is immediately opened.

Kyla,your best friend,was already looking at you with a confused look.You were never late.And then you saw him by his desk,with a hand on his hip.His hair was neatly combed back,his white shirt hugging his physique so well.Geez,you wanted to pounce on him.

"Rule number one we discussed on our first day was to never ever be late on my class.But you,Miss Y/LN,is breaking that number one rule." He said while pointing his finger at you.You looked down and prayed that this day go fast.

"You happily volunteered for this presentation,and now you're *checks his watch* 15 minutes late?Care to explain why?" He asked.

You looked up and saw his eyes dance with humor and his oh so famous cocky smirk.It made you weak.You can't just tell everyone that you were fucked to your limits last night,you just can't.So you had to make a relevant excuse.

"I was up all night reviewing and studying for the presentation,sir,i swear" You explained and pleaded.

"Why don't you prep your things and everyone will finish their quiz?You'll take yours after this class." He said and before you could even reply,he was already walking towards his desk.

"God,you are such a mighty fine sight of a woman" He said while looking over your choice of clothing.

You smirked and opened your legs toward your laptop camera,wearing nothing but a red baby doll corset and a matching thong with a suspender belt.You knew you looked good.

"All for you,daddy.I'm your good little girl" You said seductively.

He growled and you saw his hands open the zipper of his pants.

"Fuck yes,doll.You're all mine." He said and went to his hands up and down on his gorgeous length.Suddenly,your throat went dry by the sight of it.A huge girth glistening with a precum,you wanted to lick him dry right there and then.

You grabbed your pink rotating rabbit vibrator and turned it on.Fixing your eyes on him as you put it against your clit,you felt yourself moaning at the delicious vibration on your skin,sending goosebumps all over your body.

"That's my good fucking girl,putting a show for me.Now tell me,how much do you want my big fat cock,doll" He asked and watched you play with yourself.

You closed your eyes at the thought of him fucking you merciless under him,his hands pulling your hair,his lips on your neck.You wanted to feel him stretching you out.You wanted him so bad.

"I want you to fuck me til I'm sore,daddy,I want to feel your cock deep inside me" You moaned out,feeling yourself getting near to the edge.

"And i will,doll.I will take my time savoring every inch of your body.Especially that tight young pussy of yours,I will fucking take my time eating you out with my tongue."

"y-yes daddy I want you to make me cum" you moaned.

"Open your damn eyes and look me in the eye.I want to see you cum" he said and you opened your eyes.You switched the mode of vibration to the maximum.

Your knees are shaking,you can feel yourself tighten inside.You stopped yourself from closing your eyes.

You were both looking at each other.Taking in his every movement,you saw his cock pulsate against his hand and a white streak of cum came out.

"Now,be a good girl and let daddy see you cum" he whispered and you came.

You moaned out his name as you felt yourself shake from your release.

"God,you look so beautiful" He said over the laptop camera.

You rolled your eyes and waved him goodbye.

"Yeah,sure,I look like a pimp,Negan" You said and grab your towel to clean yourself.

"You're my dirty pimp.I wanted to punish you earlier for being late but I saw that tight little skirt."

You laughed.The skirt did worked.

masterlist

[hellevator-mp3]

letters to no one (and everyone) || Part 3

Pairing(s): Platonic!Hyunghyuk, Platonic!Wonhyuk, Hyungwonho

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1100+

Warnings: None

Author Note: okay so this is really rushed bc!! i have no motivation for this story rn!! so uh yeah there’s that lmao n e ways i hope y’all enjoy~

minhyuk hates confrontation.  however, maybe confrontation involving hoseok isn’t so bad after all.  

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tuesday rolled around quickly, the morning light making minhyuk stir from a fitful sleep.  he vaguely debated just staying and moping around the apartment, but those plans were tossed out the window when jeonghan burst into his room, loudly announcing that they were going out for breakfast and that he had better hurry up, or else he’d be left behind.  

he vaguely considered just giving up and going back to bed at least three times during his morning routine, but finally stumbled out of his room fully dressed, bathed, and with his toothbrush hanging from his mouth as he searched high and low for a match to the sock he held in his hand.  silently, jeonghan held up the match from his position on the couch, almost as if he could read minhyuk’s mind.  minhyuk quietly thanked him, heading back to his room to finish brushing his teeth and pull his socks on, before grabbing his phone and making his way to the living room.  it was empty, save for sungjoo who was waiting patiently for him.  

the two walked out together, sungjoo offering his arm for support as minhyuk pulled on his shoes, before they joined the rowdy couples in their trek to their favorite diner, and the only one that could seat all of them.  it was a peaceful start to the morning, as far as minhyuk's group of friends and roommates went.  they all divided off into their own conversations as the food arrived, and some didn't talk at all.  half of the group had classes while the other half didn't, but they all started late in the afternoon so the group was free to mess around.  

minhyuk sat at the end of the booth with sungjoo next to him, and so it made sense that he could see the door.  it also made sense that he could see the people walking in.  what didn't make sense was the sight of hyungwon and his boyfriend hoseok entering the diner, almost immediately meeting minhyuk’s gaze.  hyungwon whispered something to hoseok, who’s gaze flickered between minhyuk and hyungwon, before nodding.  hyungwon walked up to the hostess desk, while hoseok made a beeline for minhyuk.  it didn’t take more than a second for hoseok to pull him up by his elbow, gently, and pull him to the side.  

“listen, hyungwon explained the letters to me, and i just want to let you know it’s okay, and to say thank you for making him happy.  when he read that letter, his face lit up and i could see how happy it made him, so thank you.”  hoseok rushed out, his voice soft so he didn’t attract the attention of the others - which was near impossible, given that the whole group was staring at them anyways.  minhyuk just nodded, whispering a quick “you’re welcome” before hoseok was rushing back to hyungwon, the latter wrapping thin hands around the former’s bicep as they walked to their table, following the hostess.  

the whole table began to question minhyuk when he sat down, but he just shook his head and continued eating, ignoring their questions.  

it wasn’t long before they were trudging back to the apartment, minhyuk immediately retreating to his room since he was one of the people with classes that day, along with sungjoo, jinyoung, and jeonghan.  he finished off the last bit of an assignment that was due, and shoved it into the backpack sitting in his desk chair, along with his laptop and charger.  soon enough, sungjoo was calling him and saying it was time to leave.  the four of them left, jinyoung and jeonghan walking slightly ahead, leaving sungjoo and minhyuk to lag slightly behind.  

minhyuk told him what hoseok had said, the other listening in silence as he explained.  he stayed silent, contemplating what to say.  “who all did you write letters to?” he asked, glancing over at minhyuk to gauge his reaction.  

minhyuk lost himself to his thoughts, considering whether or not he should answer truthfully.  after realizing that his oldest friend could see through him when he lied, he hummed thoughtfully and replied, “hyungwon and hoseok, obviously.  also im changkyun and lee jooheon, yoo kihyun and sohn hyunwoo too.”

sungjoo looked thoughtful.  “and out of those six, you know there's two couples, right?”  hyungwon nodded in response, responding that there was no way he didn't know of the most popular couple in school - lee jooheon and im changkyun, who were childhood friends that recently revealed their relationship.  lee jooheon was the star baseball player for their school, and almost always had girls and guys alike hanging off of him.  it was a definite surprise for one of their classmates to find the two tucked away in a storage closet with their lips pressed together and their bodies even closer.  word spread faster than the door had slammed, and suddenly the two were thrust into the spotlight as the one of the first openly gay couples, aside from hyungwon and hoseok, as well as jeongyeon and her girlfriend nayeon.  

minhyuk shrugged.  “besides, it’s not like i ever acted on, or will act on, my feelings.  plus, everything that i felt for everyone except the last two is gone by now, so i’m not bothered.” he tacked on, feeling the sudden need to explain himself.  sungjoo nodded, before the two in front of them circled back to tell them that they were gonna be late if they kept going at this speed, so the rest of the way there was spent in silence, aside from the pounding of their feet on the pavement.  

when classes were over and minhyuk showed up for his shift at the cafe, hyungwon was already manning the counter, with hoseok sitting in one of the booths near the window.  minhyuk quickly threw on his apron, getting to work making orders as hyungwon took them.  they worked in harmony for a while, until it was time for hyungwon to switch out with one of their other coworkers, the aforementioned jeongyeon.  minhyuk watched hyungwon and hoseok leave the cafe, the latter waving at him before they walked out the door.  minhyuk was slightly confused, having never interacted with him outside of their earlier conversation, but didn’t bother to dwell on it.  he had better things to do, like make a iced coffee with twelve pumps of sugar free vanilla, an equal amount of hazelnut and caramel, a splash of soy, enough coffee that it hit the middle of their logo, with ice, before it was tossed in the blender.  twice.  

by the time minhyuk was finally closing the cafe, he had a twitch in his eye that only a good night’s rest and at least thirteen business days away from people could cure.  

he didn’t get what he wanted, as he was awoken at seven am sharp the next day, by a frantic sungjoo who had entered what the group liked to call “mom mode”.  

it wasn’t a very pretty sight.  

[waltzshouldbewriting]

Nemesis (Ghostmind Story 4)

By JD Jackson

First thing first, yes we are all fine.

That being said, you are all probably wondering the reason behind my recent online activities. Well, it all started about two AM when Dan was out helping investigate some weird gas thing.

It started for me when he barged into my room at 2:45 looking like a truck ran him over, minus the injury part.

“What’s wrong?” Was the first thing out of my mouth before my instincts finally kicked in. “Don’t answer that.” I ran from my computer (yes I was still up, sue me) to my bed, where I brushed off the papers I had all over it. I grabbed my weighted blanket, ordered Dan to lie down, and told him to relax.

“You need music - no you don’t,” I said, running through what Dan usually needs while in shutdown mode. I turned off my writing playlist, dimmed the lights, and fetched him a bottle of water.

Aaliyah called me just as I was about to call her.

“Is Dan at your place?” Aaliyah asked. She sounded half-asleep.

“Yes,” I replied, balancing the phone with my computer as I walked out to the living room. “He’s completely zoned. Do you know what happened?”

“Someone attacked him.”

“What?”

My parents were already in the living room, both on the phone. I plopped on the floor and opened up a window on my laptop.

“Let me find a picture,” I said. “See what I can find out.”

I put the phone down, already switching to research mode.

I found a video of the attack in half a minute. My mom handed me a notebook as I wrote and sketched what I saw.

Young. Our age? Design on shirt. One-way fight. Obvious training. Wasn’t seeking to kill, only hurt.

Questions began to form, and that’s when I started with the weird posting on social media.

Does anyone recognize his style of fighting?

Any idea on his symbol?

Anyone recognize him?

Another video came up, this one with a clear picture of the other person’s face. I snapped a screenshot and did a reverse image search just as a few responses came back in.

His fighting is very mixed. Can’t identify any one style.

If I had to guess, he had some jujutsu training mixed in with it.

I found his Facebook page, but it only listed what was definitely a false age and location, and a friends list. So I started searching for his friends.

That logo reminds me of Divinity White’s logo when she was Savage Serpent.

More googling, and I started connecting the dots. A photo on a friend’s timeline here, a jujutsu studio website from his hometown here.

After about thirty minutes, two police officers came to check on Dan. After some convincing from my parents, Dan came out to meet them.

“Any idea who attacked me?” Dan asked. His voice sounded flat, uninterested, but to me that just meant he was still in shutdown.

Police officers don’t know how to deal with him. And they haven’t had to yet, I realized. Not with his device. Which was still on his arm, shattered.

“Not yet,” one of the police officers responded.

“I know,” I offered. “His name is Jason White. He is sixteen years old, trained at an old rundown jujutsu studio in his hometown. He’s the son of Divinity White AKA Savage Serpent. Ms White was a member of the FOCOPI, back twenty years ago. She quit after a bad injury, and eventually married and became a lawyer. Her old secret identity was found at two years ago, shortly after which she and her husband were murdered by someone orphaned by the FOCOPI, which then left Jason orphaned. He moved in with his aunt, who still lives near the FOCOPI headquarters. And there’s an ongoing investigation to see if his aunt is the person behind the new FOCOPI member Avidizer.”

“FOCOPI may be evil, but they don’t involve kids,” one of the police officers said.

“Unless,” I replied. “The kid takes it upon himself to be involved. Jason has had two amber alerts since moving in with his aunt, but resolved quickly. One of the kids in his school with a less secure account seems to think he ran away.”

The other police officer raised an eyebrow. “So what you’re saying is the kid has a role model whose in FOCOPI, which is motive. And he likely tried more dangerous initiation tactics by himself.”

“Until FOCOPI gave in and gave him a safer mission,” I concluded. “Taking on Ghostmind, a superhero with no physical skill.”

“I’ll admit, it makes sense,” the first police officer said. She looked at my parents. “Your child is a good researcher.”

My dad chuckled. “It’s probably all that time they spend researching for that novel.”

“We’ll look deeper into what you’ve found, but we’ll still stay open to other explanations- though this one sounds solid.” The police officer looked at me. “Ever think of getting a job in criminal investigations?”

I made a face and shook my head. “Not creative enough for me.”

The next hour or so, police came and went from my house. I showed them how I did my research and the photos I’d found. Those who had time to react were impressed.

Dan’s parents came over, and the whole Davis Family stayed the night. Then, just a little after sunrise, it was time to start the next day.

Dan was already excused from school, and his mom called in with a family emergency, but the rest of us had to trot on to work and school. Not that I didn’t try to stay with him, but I was close to failing in two classes (like that mattered in the moment) and neither Dan nor my dad wanted me to stay.

So I went to school, despite having no sleep. And slept through most of my classes. When I got home, Dan and his mother were passed out in my room, so I took a nap on the couch.

The rest of the day was spent recovering from that morning. My mom forced us all to eat, even with no appetite. I spent the evening scrolling Tumblr while Dan played video games on his phone and his mother conversed with my parents.

She wanted to head home, but Dan was feeling sick from anxiety and was wary of riding in a car. Neither of them like the house (we are a messy family), and Dan complained once or twice that he should’ve walked the extra ten minutes back to his place initially. I did the best to keep the area clean, but it felt hopeless. Claudia and Aaliyah both showed up after dinner, and Aaliyah brought a tool kit to work on Dan’s device.

That night I didn’t stay up until 2 AM, but I still found myself woken up with a crash around the same time. I was sleeping on the couch, Claudia in one of the recliners, and Aaliyah had moved downstairs to work.

“What was that?” Claudia asked, sitting up.

“I don’t know,” I replied.

My parents creeped out of their room, my mom with a flashlight and my dad with a bat.

“Did you hear that?” My mom asked.

Claudia and I both nodded.

“Get Dan and go downstairs,” my dad barked.

“Why?” Claudia asked. “There’s police officers-“

“Do it.”

Dan was already awake, and he barely complained about the woody smell as we descended the stairs. I led them to a corner, and Aaliyah and Claudia moved a table to cover us.

Dan sighed and leaned his head against the cold wall, his breath speeding up. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest.

“It’s just a precaution,” Claudia whispered. “There’s no reason to panic.”

“I know,” I answered. “Doesn’t mean I can stop.”

“Shhh,” Dan hissed. “Stop talking so loud.”

Something thumped, startling me and Claudia.

“Aaliyah, how long is the repair going to take?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

“Too long,” Aaliyah said.

“That’s not an answer!”

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it’s not a good idea.”

I sighed. “It would make me feel better if we had a plan.”

“It’s four to one,” Claudia stated. “We could take him.”

“This is a horrible idea!” Aaliyah said.

Dan shook his head. “He’s too good of a fighter.”

“It’s four to one,” I repeated.

“I’m sure he’s trained for that,” Dan replied. “And none of us has.”

“I know a thing or two about strategy.” I looked around the room. “Now if I could only think clearly...” Closing my eyes, I did my best to concentrate. Just pretend it’s a scene in a novel.

“We have only one entrance,” I reasoned. “Umm, let’s see - we could take him by surprise - maybe, uh, nevermind, that wouldn’t work.” I continued to ramble, but slowly an idea began forming. “I think I have a plan. We need a net.”

It wasn’t hard. Claudia and I were able to sew a few stronger pieces of cloth together, and then I found small bolts in my dad’s work box that we tied to the end. Claudia took the net as we moved into position.

Claudia and I pressed our bodies against the wall next to the stairs just as the door creaked open. My heart was pounding even harder, but I forced myself to breathe slowly and softly. I listened as an unfamiliar gate walked down the stairs, ignoring the shaky feeling through my limbs.

Then Jason White stepped into the room, and me and Claudia tackled him with the net.

The good news is that we caught him by surprise. But, as Aaliyah expected, it didn’t take long for him to react. He landed an elbow into my stomach, and I stumbled backwards as pain flared. I hit the wall and collapsed, muttering a few of my favorite curse words under my breath.

Claudia recovered. Apparently, cheerleaders have high pain tolerance (which I do not, hence me lying on the floor in pain at this moment in time). She threw herself onto White and managed to wrap the net around his face in a smooth motion. It wasn’t enough to bring him down, but Claudia grabbed the edges and yanked, bringing White’s head down and making him stumble. Claudia elbowed him in the side of the head, knocking him into the wall, while he still struggled to get the net off. She kneed him in the stomach, and he punched her in the face in defense, making her stumble backwards.

White managed to toss the net off. Aaliyah had yet to finish her repairs.

I took a deep breath in, going through a quick grounding exercise. It made the pain worse, but I found I could focus. Now, all I needed was a stroke of genius.

And, impossibly, I had one.

I pushed myself up and forced myself to move to the other side of the room. White, who was still focusing on Claudia, turned my way just as I reached my target - a basket of spray paint. I grabbed a bottle, popped the lid, and sprayed it right into White’s eyes. It didn’t blind him as I’d hoped, but he did stumble backwards with a nasty wince.

Sometime during that sequence of events, Aaliyah managed to fix Dan’s device. Which was good, because a second later White punched me in the face and I went down.

“He has some type of device on his waist!” Dan called.

“What?” White asked, spinning around. He nervously patted his belt. “No I don’t!”

“A little protective of your doodad?” I asked, forcing myself up onto my knees despite the massive face ache (is that a thing?) spreading from my jaw.

Claudia, who, despite a bloody nose and a black eye, was sneaking around the side of White, took the hint. She launched forward, grabbing the device with amazing reflexes, and tossed it at Aaliyah. Aaliyah caught it, and held her wrench up to it like a knife to a throat.

White halted.

“You like this, don’t you?” Aaliyah asked. “It would be a shame if something... happened to it. But I figure if I’m smart enough to invent, I’m probably smart enough to destroy. After all, it’s supposed to be easier, right?”

White scowled. “What do you want?”

“For one, stop punching my friends. In fact, if you leave now, in the morning I’ll leave this somewhere for you to find.”

“Why would I trust you?”

“You don’t have much choice, do you?”

White huffed. “If you don’t return it, you’ll pay.” Then he turned on his heels and left.

Later that day, someone informed us that White used that device frequently to sneak pass police officers and guards. None of us know what happened to the device, since Aaliyah turned it over to the SGU.

And honestly, none of us care.

All I know is that two days later and Dan is still in panic mode and my cheek still hurts.

[crowned-ladybug]

Take a Moment

Power went out for a bit over an hour last night while it was already getting dark out, so the only thing I could do was surround myself with every lightsource I could get my hands on and write. And because I had no inspiration for anything else or energy for longer things, I just bestowed my situation upon the characters.

Characters: Dark, Anti

Ship: Danti

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: none.

The lights flicker once, twice before going out completely, shrouding the room in shade that slowly but surely gets darker as the sun sets. Dark raises his head and looks around mildly as if this was all just a minor inconvenience and not something halting his work and making the death of his laptop's battery inevitable. He leisurely saves his work and turns said laptop off before he stands from his desk. He needs to go see if it's just a fuse or something affecting the whole street, and he expects to run into Anti while he's there. To be fair, he's probably already lighting candles to help the situation. Well, here's to hoping they aren't all scented ones and that their living room doesn't end up smelling like a B category soap store.

The moment he steps out of his office, Dark is blinded by piercing white light from the other end of the hallway. Then he hears a hastily muttered "fuck, sorry", and once the light is directed at the ground instead, he can see Anti standing there with an apologetic smile. He has his phone on flashlight mode in one hand while his other arm is cradling three candles, all in glass cups. Dark doesn't want to know the chaos that would ensue if he dropped them.

"Power's out," Anti states the obvious once has made his way over to Dark stand in front of him, and he lets him take two of the candles without complaints. It's a shitty conversation starter, but oh well, at least it is one. "It made me feel fucking weird."

"You can sense fluctuations in electricity now?" Dark asks, trying to be casual but sounding more smug instead.

"No, but I guess all wifi and half the digital devices all around me dying all at once is bound to make me feel something," he rolls he eyes playfully, but doesn't much seem to care about Dark's tone. He looks at the candle still in his hand, then sniffs it (which includes actually bumping his nose into it, because he miscalculated the movement), then grimaces. "This doesn't even smell of anything. What a rip off."

Dark allows himself a small smile and obediently sniffs the candle too when Anti pushes it towards him. "Are you all right, though?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," Anti says, nonchalant but genuine. He doesn't expect Dark to lean forward and press a quick kiss to his forehead though, at least not judging from the way his ears flick in surprise and joy. "What do you wanna do now?"

Dark stays silent for a moment, thinking. He can barely see anything anymore aside from Anti and the circle of light his phone paints onto the floor. Judging from the sirens wailing outside (how did he not hear them before?), the problem isn't only affecting their house. While there are no windows in the hallway, even in a room with natural light they will soon be in complete darkness without electricity. It's not a big enough problem to jump to someplace else though. Whether it lasts for five minutes or the whole night, they can wait it out.

"Let's just get comfortable in a room we can light up somewhat properly."

They end up withdrawing to their bedroom. Dark sits on the bed, leaning back against the pillows and trying to find a position that won’t hurt to move from. He keeps a good book nearby, but doesn’t open it yet. Anti had gone on an epic quest (his words) to retrieve the rest of the candles from the living room. Now he busies himself with lighting them all around the room, taking much joy in finding good places for each of them and briefly complaining about how the fairy lights above the bed need to be plugged in and don't work from batteries. Dark watches him go about his business fondly.

"Do you wanna tell ghost stories?" Anti asks with badly-veiled excitement in his voice as he places the last candle on the windowsill.

"If you would like. But you will be the one losing sleep because of them, not me."

Anti only gives an offended grunt in response, more so at the faint amusement in Dark's voice than his actual words. But he doesn't mention the ghost stories again, because Dark is indeed right, and for a powerful demon Anti can very much scare himself into insomnia by reading too many creepy things on the internet. Instead he flops onto the bed, sprawled on his stomach and taking up most of the space Dark has graciously left empty.

"Hey, Dark?" Anti starts again, one ear flicking as he lays his head sideways on the sheets.

"Hmm?"

"What do we do now?"

Dark sighs. "Anti, you're an adult, I'm sure you can-"

"No, I mean we," Anti pushes himself up to lean on his elbows, and the tiny trace of annoyance is already gone from his voice as he smiles. "Now that we've got the romantic lighting down, I wanna do something with you, not just...read or listen to music or whatever."

"Oh," Dark's face visibly softens and Anti is hit of a sudden wave of 'holy shit, look at him, I love him so much'. He picks up his book and puts it on the bedside table as a silent agreement to whatever Anti feels like doing. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Hmm...truth or dare?"

"I don't think it would be as fun just with the two of us."

"Oookay..." Anti rolls onto his back. He so obviously doesn't have any viable ideas, but that doesn't mean he's letting this go. He wants to spend time with Dark, stupid ideas be damned. "20 questions?"

"I would say neither of us need such an excuse to ask each other questions."

Anti huffs a breath and takes his time to just stare at Dark, both because he's right (and if he thinks about it, it's a wonderful thing) and because he's smiling. He understands that smiling is not a big part of Dark's nature, but he'll never stop thinking he looks amazing whenever he does smile. "Okay, I'm out."

"Well, that was quick," Dark says, sinking more into the pillows behind him and eyeing Anti curiously.

"Shut up. I wanted to say let's paint each other's nails or do make-up things, but it's way too dark for that," he feels a little annoyed that he doesn't have any more ideas. He will have to more consciously prepare for the next power outage, whenever that may come to happen.

"We can do that tomorrow, if you'd like," Dark offers softly, and the way he says it makes it obvious that he isn't just being polite, he'd enjoy it too.

Anti flails his arms in the air with joy, grin wide enough to show off a considerable amount of his sharp teeth. "Fuck yes!"

Out of ideas, they end up sitting side by side, pressed up against each other. The distorted colours around Dark ripple for a moment, then they wrap around Anti too. It feels nothing different and it doesn't drain his colours either, but it's a reoccurring display of how Dark considers him part of his comfort zone. Anti doesn't think he'll ever get used to all the happy feelings being reminded of that gives him.

They share Anti's earbuds and listen to music from his phone, trying to find songs they both enjoy (which is, surprisingly, not that incredibly hard, despite Anti's very sporadic music taste and Dark's love for heavy metal).

Two songs in, Anti is already humming along, his ears flicking lightly to the heavier beats. He doesn't want to sing and ruin the peacefulness of the moment, knowing that his voice when singing is absolutely horrid and cracks more often than if he were going through puberty. So he sticks to humming. Not outstandingly good and flawless humming, but a happy one at least.

When Anti checks the time on his phone a few minutes later, he finds that the power has been out for over an hour. Neither of them care much past the initial information.

The fourth song turns out to be one Dark is familiar with enough to know the lyrics. It starts out as him humming too, but by the time the first chorus rolls around, he's singing quietly. Anti ceases his humming, puts his head on his shoulder (with a little manoeuvring) and just listens. Dark seems to get the hint, and his singing gets just a little louder and braver, and Anti closes his eyes happily. At least one of them knows how to sing, and he doesn't much mind that it's not him.

In the middle of the fifth song, the lights flicker and then fully come back on. They look at each other, and Anti grins when he knows they're thinking the same thing. He stops the music before sliding off the bed and makes his way to the lightswitch. He flips it off, coating the room in the peaceful dim light again, flickering ever so slightly like candles usually do. Dark wraps an arm around his back and kisses him when he climbs back onto the bed.

When the next song begins, Dark presses a kiss to Anti's head, and then starts to sing again.

[reekierevelator]

A Visitor

A short story by Brian Bourner in times of covid

We had been in the grip of the covid-19 pandemic for well over a year but the new vaccines finally had it on the run. The country was opening up again. We were at last officially allowed to mingle freely. But the world had changed.

Radio and TV still talked endlessly of the problems faced by students who had missed out on education, of how domestic abuse cases had soared and mental health problems had multiplied. The light the pandemic had thrown on endemic problems of race and poverty constantly reverberated. People had reached a new appreciation of who were society’s real ‘key workers’ and knew they were undervalued and criminally underpaid. Floods, fires, and murders, still barely achieved a mention even in the local news.

Business practice had also changed radically. Companies like mine now saw no reason not to allow employees to continue to work from home. Like many other firms they were in the process of selling off their office building for conversion into much needed housing.  Visual contact with other people via computer technology had become the normal mode of interaction. Lack of interpersonal social contact no longer singled you out as unusual in any way. The exotic video meetings and video phone calls of a couple of years ago had long since become boringly routine.

I had always been asthmatic and a brush with tuberculosis a few years back had hardly helped. The constant pandemic fear of infection had marked my psyche indelibly. For people like me, at high risk from the virus, shielding and self-isolating for months on end had become second nature, the new normal, and was psychologically imprinted. I lived like a medieval hermit in a cave, dependent on local villagers to bring me food. At thirty-seven I was otherwise self-sufficient, happy to live alone in isolation. The last thing I wanted was to risk infection from physical meetings with other people.  

Occasionally new variations of the virus still cropped up here and there. Announcements of quarantine arrangements and local lockdowns had become mundane, barely newsworthy.  Likewise, there were still deaths and hospitalisations, but not the thousands experienced at the pandemic’s height. Health was no longer top of the government’s agenda. Despite innumerable ‘long covid’ cases, and people suffering long-lasting psychological after-effects, the government’s focus had shifted inexorably back to the economy.  

 When the doorbell rang on Monday morning I was slaving over my laptop, just as I had been all morning, trying to complete a company report. I was still in my pyjamas. I still needed to wash and dress ahead of a video business meeting scheduled for 12.00 noon.  But the doorbell was insistent. Angrily I threw open the front door expecting to find yet another box of groceries on the doorstep, or some hot food I’d forgotten I’d ordered, or even some parcel delivery man waiting for a signature.

Instead I found myself facing a woman dressed rather shabbily who was carrying a grubby old holdall.  Initially shocked at the lack of face mask I remembered that things had moved on. Her mud-spattered black coat was buttoned to the top and flapped around a slender body. Though hairdressers had been open for a few weeks now she had clearly been unable to secure an appointment. Her frizzy auburn hair sprouted from her head like weeds. A long narrow face attempted a smile but her skin was lined and weather-beaten. She looked exhausted. Her dark eyes, set far back in her ruddy crumpled skin, bored into mine, pleading and watery. When she opened her mouth and said “Hello Martin” recognition slowly began to dawn.

Over the course of the pandemic I had virtually forgotten what manners and social niceties were appropriate for visitors. “Gina,” I spluttered in surprise, “how nice to see you.”  I cautiously ushered her into my flat, squeezing myself against the wall in commemoration of the recently abolished two metre distancing rule.

“I’m sorry if I got you out of bed,” she said, entering the living room while I rushed to throw a dressing-gown over my pyjamas. And even before sitting down she launched into her tale of woe. “It really drove me crazy. I’ve never ever been stuck indoors for that long before.  Shops, restaurants, pubs, galleries - all shut down; nothing to do and nowhere to go. Work all disrupted too; jobs furloughed or disappearing. Just watching endless murder dramas on TV, or reading books about murders, or listening to radio presenters I’d like to murder.  Still, you look well. I knew I could rely on you.”

It was strange because in fact I had not seen Gina for three years, and it felt like far longer. I searched my brain for her surname and eventually came up with McLaughlan. We had met at Manifest Destiny, a large advertising and design practice. Though we were in different teams there our paths crossed occasionally. She never said much, only once or twice mentioning that she could only bear the work there because the building was almost entirely glass so that inside she almost felt she was outside.

From what I could remember she had mostly been attached to another colleague, Ruby Maguire. She seemed to trail around after Ruby a lot. And Ruby was someone else I had not seen for a three years, not since I’d left Manifest Destiny for an administrative post with Box Clever, the cardboard box manufacturer. It had proved a wise move. The firm had done great business during the pandemic. It had expanded and I had been promoted.

Gina told me she too had moved on from Manifest Destiny, not long after me. She had gone from billboard designs to helping organise and design outdoor film sets. It had entailed working freelance but sounded a lot more interesting than designing cardboard boxes. “But,” she went on quickly, “the pandemic killed it all off stone dead.” She turned towards me with an angry grimace. “And when the wok vanished the pandemic ate all my savings. No official help for the likes of me. I couldn’t even pay my rent. No more sleeping in my lovely sun room. I ended up in a cramped hostel. It was hellish.”  The resentment and hatred in her tone was palpable. “It drove me demented. And when the hostels closed to prevent the virus spreading I tried sleeping on the floor of anyone who would let me. It was unbearable, often like being stuck in a cupboard. Sometimes I couldn’t find anywhere at all suitable and just lived rough, outdoors in all weathers, but at least not suffering, lost in some little, dark, unknown room.”

“Good grief Gina, that’s awful, I’m so sorry.” And having commiserated I told her that of course she was welcome to take a bath and stay the night. I rustled up a quick meal for her which she ate looking longingly out of the window. And later I dug out some spare pyjamas. When I showed her my tiny windowless spare room her face froze and she stood rooted to the spot.  She looked about to turn, dismiss the offer and run away, but recovered herself in time to mutter vague words of thanks.

I showed her round the rest of the flat then raced to turn up just in time for my video conference. My hair was uncombed, I was still in my dressing gown. On screen my boss and our potential customer both wore worried frowns, obviously thinking I would have been as presentable wearing a large cardboard box.  

Gina slept through the rest of the day.

After finishing the meeting, writing up notes, dressing, and grabbing a sandwich I phoned the old unit at Manifest Destiny. I hoped someone here could give me a bit of background since I barely knew anything about Gina.

“Hello, Manifest Destiny, Terry Ryland speaking.”

“Hi, it’s Martin Hislop here. I used to work at Manifest Destiny.  I wonder if there’s anyone there who remembers Gina McLaughlan. She’s popped round to see me unexpectedly, obviously regards me as a friend, and might stay a day or two. I don’t want to seem a total socially inept  idiot but I’m afraid I can’t remember anything about her. I don’t want to put my foot in it. Is there someone who could spare a few minutes to fill me in?”

“Well there’s me I suppose,” Terry replied noncommittally. “All the staff work from home now. It’s my turn to be the telephone exchange today. It’s a rota system. I can’t shout a question out across the office floor any more. I’d have to contact staff individually.”

“Well, do you remember Gina yourself?”

“Yes, I think so. Worked on billboards. She always kept close to Ruby. Ruby Maguire sort of looked after her. She had some kind of problem, couldn’t stand being indoors, got wound up with it. So Ruby would take her for regular breaks outside.”

“You mean she was claustrophobic?”

“Yes, that’s it, good worker but a little bit off her trolley. They called Ruby her mentor but she was more of an unofficial carer.”

I thanked Terry for talking to me and understood why my spare room had not seemed as attractive to Gina as I’d imagined.  It would be much better if she stayed with someone who understood her condition, say Ruby.

 It was later in the evening, just as I’d pulled out my mobile to search for Ruby Ellison’s contact details,  that I heard Gina emerge from her room and rustle around in the kitchen. I was thinking that if she stayed a while I’d need to order more food and my expenses would increase when Gina slipped into the living room beside me.

“I was wondering,” I began brightly, “since my flat’s very small, why not ask Ruby Maguire if you can stay with her for a while?”

The suggestion generated no immediate response but her eyes narrowed and I caught a mean and suspicious glint.

She stared at me silently, her lips curling, and eventually muttered, “No, I’ll be happy enough here.” It came out as a sort of low growl as if she was daring me to argue.  

I looked back at the phone screen.  The search for Ruby Ellison had found dozens of references. But I was shocked to see they were all about Ruby’s death. Police were continuing to investigate the case of thirty-two year old office worker, Ruby Maguire, found dead in her flat. Apparently she had lain there for over a week until her manager had noticed she wasn’t bothering to log in for Zoom calls any more. The circumstances were suspicious. The police were requesting information on anyone seen entering or leaving Ruby’s flat in the week before her death. I looked up from the screen and blurted out “Heavens above, it seems Ruby has died!”

I was even more startled as Gina suddenly leaned over me, grabbed my phone and threw it at the wall. I was flabbergasted. I stared at her in shock.

“If you’re not happy about me staying on here, maybe you better leave yourself,” she said as if it was the most natural suggestion in the world, an entirely reasonable proposition.  As normal as smashing mobile phones against walls. There was a manic undertone to her voice.  Ignoring the question I jumped up and tried to brush past her. But she grabbed hold of the dressing gown I was still wearing and I saw the blade of my own kitchen knife flash in her hand.

 Fortunately, I managed to twist myself around, allowing my dressing-gown to fall to the floor, and rushed out the living-room door as she came after me.  I barely managed to reach my bedroom and slammed the door shut. The door had a lock and though I’d never used it before, I did then.

She was outside the door, fumbling with the handle and breathing quickly. ‘Ok, let’s get together,’ she panted. ‘Ruby always said you liked me. She said you only ignored me at work because relationships had to be kept on a professional footing.”

“Ruby was good to you,” I shouted. “Why did you do it?”

“Ruby tried to lock me up. All night in a tiny room.  I was only allowed outdoors for one hour a day. She tried to blame the government, said it was a lock-in, a government ruling.”

“A lockdown, it was a lockdown.”

“She made me live in a room the size of a cupboard.  Said it was all she had. Said I couldn’t go outside.  We argued more and more.  Struggled. Then she died.  And I left.”

“And came here.”

“She said you were a good man, knew your address.  I thought it would be different for us.  We’d be good together. We could live together, sleep in the living room with the curtains open. But you want to lock me up in little room too. You’re just as bad as Ruby.���

“You’ve got it all wrong,” I yelled, and then the carving knife was thrust in through the door jamb.

The woman was delusional. God knows what had got into her. I opened my bedroom window and yelled “Help!” over and over at the top of my voice.

Fortunately, neighbours called the police.  By the time they arrived Gina had escaped through the back door but the neighbours had spotted her leaving and the police soon picked her up.

I was still trembling, partly from the shock of the knife attack and partly from seeing several people occupy my flat for the first time in ages. I went over the details several times answering the police questions.

“It was unbelievable,” I kept repeating. “The woman seemed almost normal but she was clearly deranged. She came at me with a carving knife. You wouldn’t think a little thing like claustrophobia would be enough to tip you over the edge like that.”

One of the policemen commented matter-of-factly, “Oh yes, we’ve seen a lot of that kind of thing recently. Mental health problems. Old people’s dementia worsening till they’ve completely forgotten their relatives. A chap round the corner said life wasn’t worth living if he couldn’t meet his old cronies in the pub. Topped himself.  The coronavirus, eh?  It drives people mad.” Then to change the subject he asked “What’s your line of work?”

“Oh, at moment I’m designing cardboard boxes shaped like coffins. Natural burials. Environmentally sound. There’s been a big increase in demand recently.”

[the-sanders-sides]

Stereotypical High School Movie AU - Chapter 3

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, swearing, mentions of a panic attack, mentions of a concussion, mentions of fights, mention of p*rn (message me if I forgot any)

A/n:  hey, would ya look at that, i updated twice in a month. (I put an asterisk to censor the work p*rn in the story to make sure it wouldn’t get blocked in tumblr safe mode)

Shoutout to the lovely Rev (AKA @prinxietyhell) for helping me out by editing this chapter! Read it on Ao3. Read the other chapters. @soft-pastel-trash @darkness-anon

To avoid the roaches and not get beat up some more, Anxiety promptly turned on his heel and walked all the way across the school to the back exit. Once he left the school, he walked to Logan’s house. Anxiety didn’t even bother knocking on the front door, he just walked around to the side of the house where a window to Logan’s room was located and climbed into the room through the window. Logan had been sitting at a desk and was typing code, occasionally pausing to write things down when he couldn’t figure out what to type next. Anxiety stood behind where Logan was seated with his eyes downcast for a couple minutes. After realizing Logan was too immersed in what he was doing to have noticed Anxiety’s presence, Anxiety walked up to Logan, put a hand on his shoulder, and spoke.

“Hey, whatcha typing?”

“Holy shit!” Logan jumped up from his seat, clearly startled, “Warn me next time! Oh my god…” Anxiety grinned.

“Would ya look at that? You’re picking up some words from me.” Logan rolled his eyes and Anxiety, feigning shock, declared: “The prim Logan, swearing? I am appalled young man.”

“Anyway, what are you typing?”

“Remember this morning how I said I hacked into that roach’s laptop earlier today? I never actually did that, so after I was kicked out of the nurse’s office because apparently, I was ‘crowding you’ and that ‘wouldn’t help you’, which makes no sense, I hacked into the school’s wifi to get the roach’s IP address, and now I’m just double checking my code for sending a p*rn virus to his laptop.” Anxiety high-fived Logan.

“Firstly, you’re amazing and now you’re my hero for going through with that. Secondly, how are you? Are you alright? I heard you had a panic attack.”

“I’m fine now. I should be the one asking you if you’re okay.”

“I’m… I dunno if I'm alright. I might be concussed,” Anxiety said nonchalantly. 

“Anxiety! You’ve got to go to a doctor or go to the hospital!”

“Well, you’re basically a doctor with all the medical stuff you know, so give me a diagnosis.” Logan glared at Anxiety, but decided that Anxiety getting help from Logan was better than Anxiety not getting any help at all, so Logan went along with it. Logan asked Anxiety some questions and Anxiety mentioned his headache. Logan eventually decided that Anxiety was okay, but told Anxiety to not try and fight for a week or two. That was also Logan’s way of protecting Anxiety, for Logan felt immensely guilty after Anxiety got hurt because it was originally Logan’s idea for Anxiety to learn to fight. Logan sent his hack to the roach’s computer, and Anxiety flopped on Logan’s bed.

“Roman’s an ass,” Anxiety said in a defeated tone.

“I know.”

“I don’t want to see a roach ever again,” Anxiety suddenly sat up, “Logan, how can I stomp out the roaches?”

“Well, you would need a giant shoe filled with weights to fall on them.” Anxiety rolled his eyes.

“Hey, that’s actually a good idea! We should totally do it!”

“That would kill them.”

“You need to learn what sarcasm means. And what figures of speech are. Stop taking me literally all the time. You know what I meant.” Now it was Logan’s turn to roll his eyes, but he nevertheless gave Anxiety the answer that he was looking for.

“Well, if we want to ‘stomp on the roaches’ we have to make them lose the power they have over us and others. People don’t want to get hurt by the roaches so they uncomfortably watch as anyone who dares to get in their way gets pummeled and humiliated. We need to dismantle that fear. We also need to give them some payback. Preferably, anonymous payback, so we don’t get suspended or expelled.”

“You know I’m down for this, but what’s your reason for doing the payback? It doesn’t exactly have a… point in the plan, and if I know you, you don’t do things without a reason.” Logan smirked.

“Oh… it’s just for fun.”

A/n:  While I was writing this chapter, I realized how if someone has a concussion, you can't let them sleep, so it would've been pretty irresponsible for that nurse to let him stay passed out and then afterwards tell him to go the hospital, but *sigh* oh well. tbh idk if i wrote the hacking bit right, bc i know how to code but not how to hack

[ex--animo]

boring shit that’s been in my head. 

I’ve been having a lot of thoughts lately. I don’t know why. I thought I was over all this but I’ve been having a lot of feelings and thoughts and stupid shit like that. It has also been a while since I’ve written out my thoughts. Since xanga died years ago I never found another platform like that where I can just write my random thoughts. i don’t know what I’ve been doing with them since then. And I don’t know why I’m feeling this way. I don’t know a lot of things.

I wonder if it’s because of the books I’ve been reading or the movies I’ve been watching. I finished two books recently. That’s more than I’ve read in years. That’s sad. I used to read a few books a month. But life happened and I couldn’t/didn’t want to find time to read anymore.

I think one of the reasons why I’m feeling the way I’m feeling is because in the books, well in any story it seems, the protagonist is struggling through some shit but they always had people or someone to go to or lean on. I don’t think I’ll ever have that. I’ve never had that. And I thought I was okay without it but here I am being emo as fuck over it.

These past few weeks I’ve been surrounded by people and didn’t feel weird, awkward, or uncomfortable…that much. But these weren’t my people.

I just wonder what it’d be like to have people around me where I can be myself…and be around people who like the same stuff I do. I really don’t have any friends…like I don’t think people really believe me or understand what I really mean. It seems like everyone’s definition of ‘friend’ is different.  I say people are my friends, but I don’t really think they are in the way I think a friend should be. The one ‘friend’ i have in this town i’ve know since college and the only thing we really do is go watch a movie together…actually we only did that twice and it was kind of embarrassing because once they started clapping and cheering in the middle of the movie…anyways, they only seem to want to hang out when they have no one else to hang out with. But I still find them very tiring. Are your friends supposed to be tiring? Like, I feel like i have to put in so much effort when I hang out with her. Is that normal? The other friend I have is also from college but I only see her maybe once or twice a year since we live in different states now. But we can usually have pretty long conversations and talk about random shit and I don’t feel like i have to put so much effort in it. But she’s super religious so I have to reserve myself a lot. I swear like a mother fuck and am gay as fuck…well maybe not that gay, but probably too gay from them anyways lol. so i never feel like i can be my dumb ass self.

I like doing simple things. Like maybe heading downtown, getting coffee, and just sit by the water. I feel like everyone is in go mode or they don’t know how to be okay with silence. Like why can’t we just stop and take in our surroundings and if you have something to say,say it. if not, that’s okay too. we can sit in silence.

To whoever is still readying this, why? lol

I really wish I can find another blogging platform like xanga.

All the songs I’ve been listening to have been hella sad. I used to listen to music as I fall sleep. The only way I can do that now is have my bluetooth speak constantly charged and my phone plugged in all night. I don’t want to do that. And the speakers on my old ass laptop is shit. So i’ve been looking for a small boombox type thing that will play mp3s.

oh speaking of music. I’m going to see The Dangerous Summer at the end of the month and Tonight Alive next month and possibly Senses Fail in March. I’m super excited. The last show I went to was in October.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about Tonight Alive’s new album when it came out. But as I’m listening to it, I feel like I’m getting it now. I’m creating my own narrative and it’s making sense to me….probably in the wrong ways since I’m probably not listening to the songs close enough but whatever. So far my favorite songs are Disappear, Just For Now, and The Other. I would link all these but i’m lazy as fuck.

I will link this song though because I’m feeling emo as fuck #foreveremo

You might as well forget me A memory will say more than I ever did I’m nothing more than The paint that covers the room Watching in silence I spread myself thin My absence was more than just an escape I always find that I’m running away If I were to leave I don’t think I’d be anything worth remembering I don’t think I’ll ever shed my own skin I am a house with no keys to get in Disappear Burn away Like the ashes that land in the rain Feel it shake Feel my insides misplace I’ll keep telling myself it’s okay

……

there’s more in my dumb head but it’s getting late